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Another piece of work I created. It kinda came up after wondering why despite there being some Ash transforming into the other Gym Leaders(TG Erika etc). There wasn't one for the Lightning American. Well...at least a TF story is dedicated to Lt Surge now :3. Now if only I knew how to draw...
But yeah, this is probably the only TF I'll ever do with Ash as the victim X3.
I based this TF on this version (anime) of Lt Surge.
EDIT I tried re-uploading the story with better format but something glitched. So I'll just post the story below.
Thundering Dominace
Written by Zachary Everlust (Sharky)
Normally, Ash wouldn’t be one who frequently visits places in which he already been. However, who wouldn’t love to go back and remember the day he became a man?
Stepping outside of the Vermillion Gym’s gigantic door, he recalled challenging the fierce lieutenant, one on one, his Pikachu against the beastly Raichu. And of course he lost…until he stepped up and with tons of training, and defeated the giant at his own game.It’s true that his first two gym battles are won out of pity, but he managed to overcome that, and look where that’s got him? Conquered over 50 gym leaders, the battle frontier, and his rivals of course.
Sometimes he just wants a change in pace…
Pitch black engulfed the gym similar to the first day he arrived. “Hello? Is anyone here?” No answer. “Hellooooo?” Walking forward with careful steps, he’d wished he retrieved his Pikachu back at the Pokémon centre, then he could venture safely in the never-ending darkness. I guess an emergency lighter is as good enough.
Thankfully, the Gym wasn’t as big as it was 8 years ago. It seemed to have only slight changes with more military trophies being located to his left and well…loads of loads of equipment. “I probably should leave here, Officer Jenny would fine me for trespassing when the Gym Leader’s not here.” Probably busy elsewhere?
Of course, being the adventurer he is, he shook off that thought and decided to stay and explore, as if he felt a connection to this place like something remarkable was going to happen to him here. Drawn to the corner of the room, he noticed a sparkle on the wooden floor.
Picking it up. It was two dog-tags with something engraved on it. Bringing the lighter closer, reading it out “Lt Surge…? The Lightning American?” Vaguely remembering the soldier wearing these tags when he fought him. As his fingers brush against the cold-steel hard material, he felt a sudden urge to wear them, tied across his neck.
Tying them, he felt a sense of satisfaction as he blew a sign of relief as if he ran from a ghost just moments ago. However, heat and exhaustion surrounded him as if there was a torkoal in the room. Sweating ferociously, reaching for the zipper of his jacket as he rolled up his sleeves, he yanked the zipper down, exposing his bare chest in the empty gym.
The Heat didn’t change
“Crap this is so hot…” He wanted to strip down if he could, but besides not wanting someone seeing him weak like this, he felt numb. From head to toe, from muscle to mind. This was almost as intense as war.
War? War is far more gruesome than this…Man up…this aint nothing…Ash squinted as he stood up and bore the everlasting heat pouring down on him. What are you, a baby? Furrowed Eyebrows, standing up tall and high like a soldier would, Ash grasped hold and mustered strength to walk.
However, it was as if the gym which was only metres away from the exit became endless in this desert. As every step was taken, the heat burned his tanned skin and even the clothes he wore. Scorching with age, light and smoothness melted away from Ash, leaving a crispy, rough, tanned but darker coat mixed with durability and toughness.
His clothing was no exception, Aqua blue evaporated from the jacket-trousers combo he always wore, replaced with a dominant army green. His clothes began to mature with age, childish thick clothing losing its youthful sheen, leaving only an-open button-collared silk T-shirt hanging on his bare chest, paired with a similar fabric of plain cargo pants reaching to his sneakers.
Good job Ash…Puffing like a marathon runner satisfied, he pumped his chest as he continued his way to the exit. Little did the recruit know, despite the heat, he walked with his back straight up, shooting up towards the celling every passing second the entire time.
Ugh…why do my legs feel so heavy? For Bricks as shoes, his entire body began to pull down with forceful gravity with every passing step, increasing as the drought continues in the Gym. Come on…Come on…Ash tried to, but he wasn’t able to move a budge, the force reckoning him was far worse than being tied to a machoke.
Fury and anger swirled around Ash as the seconds pass by, with a growing body comes with a growing and maturing mind. Why can’t you do this? What a wimp! Even Nurse Joy could do better than that! Determination sparked within his eye. He was no coward, he was a proud soldier wasn’t he? A soldier…
Recalling the times he trained his beloved Pokémon…especially his Pikachu. He was harsh on them wasn’t he? But he needed to toughen them up so that they would be ready for battle…battle for Pokémon battles…
Slowly beginning to lift his 100 pound feet, the soldier stomped hard onto the sturdy floor beneath him. Stretching his left and right arm slowly and carefully, he combatted against weight as he marched proudly towards the exit, with confidence that he will achieve his goal.
As he marched with greater steps, the stomping of his feet became louder. Sneakers maturing to match the rest of his attire, testosterone filled his new army boots, clutching around his feet. As if it was natural, the weight which moments ago became a fluke with every step causing his feet to become humongous adjusted to his new large army-hood.
Defined pectorals and rock-solid abs sprouted in his newly modelled chest, biceps and triceps giving the new lieutenant a more fierce-look. Shoulder blades were sharpened along with his well-adjusted back, connected to a steadier lower-bottom with larger legs strongly pressing against the silk fabric.
His army uniform becoming more complete as the finishing details popped with a large metallic belt tightening around his waist, muscles lines stretching against his combat pants, and breast-pockets spotting on each side of his lieutenant uniform, resting comfortably on his bulging pecs.
Finally, piercing out of the fabric of his gloves were his large rough fingers as it crushed the flexible material into a completely leathered one, with a leathered arm bracer reflecting his manliness on each wrist.
Oh Yeah Great job Lieutenant! Subconsciously addressing himself as the Gym Leader himself, he almost managed to clear the gym quarters, and only the door was left. Lieutenant Sir! You must always patrol the battlefield once more before leaving! A Reminder the lieutenant always gave himself before he decides to make a new move, he wouldn’t want to miss out anything.
He recalled the Lighter he lost within the darkness of the gym he was trying so desperately to leave. To be honest, who cared if he was trespassing enemy territory? He was sure that he could fight his battles like real men would.
As he marched into the darkness once more, unstoppable against heat and weight. Cursing himself as he realised that he was so careless as to drop his lighter over something so pathetic. What the hell? Crushing the object within his two feet.
Ah shit Lieutenant you did a horrible job! Apologise to your commanding officer! But I could just…APOLOGISE YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I’m Sorry….RESPECT YOUR OFFICER YOU FUCK! I’m sorry sir…! LOUDER OR ARE YOU JUST A FREAKING COWARD? I’M SORRY! SIR!
Saluting to no one in particular, the lieutenant bellowed inside his Gym as he screamed his lungs out, forcing pumps of air in and out of his windpipe. GOOD JOB LIEUTENANT! THANK YOU SIR! Instead of a half-cracked voice, out came a fierce, deep smooth shout from the soldier’s strong jaw, supported by the large Adam’s apple surrounded by his thick neck.
Seconds later, the power came back online. Must be the damn Power Station again. By a stroke of chance, he found his way up in front of the large mirror in the Gym’s quarters. Fuck…The lieutenant winced at his reflection. What the HELL happened to my eyes? If not mistaken, he recalled having eyes…larger, wider, and of deep blue, representing his American nationality.
SHIT SHIT…Oh Thank god, a false alarm. Known for his paranoia, the soldier laughed at his silliness. I thought I was going Japanese for a second there. Which wouldn’t really be a surprise, he was here for 13 years, 10 for officially starting the Gym, though sometimes he felt that he had always lived here since he was born, what a funny assumption it was.
He was an all American soldier, lived in and lived to tell the tale of The Great Pokémon War. With the numerous trainings he had given to his Pokémon, he was always prepared against another disaster.
Thunderbolts…lightning…
Scratching off the black soot off his hair for fixing the electric motor in the Gym half-way before the black-out, not aware of the strands of hair shortening and spiking into his scalp in the process. Sparking brightly was his electric style spiked blonde hair, discharging with his passion for battling strong trainers, both physically and with Pokémon, as well as his fondness of electric Pokémon.
He loved them more than any other type, when an enemy’s wailords almost devoured his life that day, his buddy Raichu saved him. He lived, worked, and toughened electric Pokémon as if it was his life job. And it was…
I am LT SURGE, the LIGHTNING AMERICAN! Vermillion’s GYM LEADER!
Stood there in the mirror, was an eight feet giant with a body of a bodybuilder and the demeanour of a dominant, cocky sergeant reeking of testosterone. It’s probably time to get my buddy out of the Pokémon centre. Proclaiming as he confidently walked out his gym with strength and dominance.
Gone were any traces of a teen wanting to leave and explore the world. Left was a man greater sense of belonging to his nation and strength of an Alpha male.
But yeah, this is probably the only TF I'll ever do with Ash as the victim X3.
I based this TF on this version (anime) of Lt Surge.
EDIT I tried re-uploading the story with better format but something glitched. So I'll just post the story below.
Thundering Dominace
Written by Zachary Everlust (Sharky)
Normally, Ash wouldn’t be one who frequently visits places in which he already been. However, who wouldn’t love to go back and remember the day he became a man?
Stepping outside of the Vermillion Gym’s gigantic door, he recalled challenging the fierce lieutenant, one on one, his Pikachu against the beastly Raichu. And of course he lost…until he stepped up and with tons of training, and defeated the giant at his own game.It’s true that his first two gym battles are won out of pity, but he managed to overcome that, and look where that’s got him? Conquered over 50 gym leaders, the battle frontier, and his rivals of course.
Sometimes he just wants a change in pace…
Pitch black engulfed the gym similar to the first day he arrived. “Hello? Is anyone here?” No answer. “Hellooooo?” Walking forward with careful steps, he’d wished he retrieved his Pikachu back at the Pokémon centre, then he could venture safely in the never-ending darkness. I guess an emergency lighter is as good enough.
Thankfully, the Gym wasn’t as big as it was 8 years ago. It seemed to have only slight changes with more military trophies being located to his left and well…loads of loads of equipment. “I probably should leave here, Officer Jenny would fine me for trespassing when the Gym Leader’s not here.” Probably busy elsewhere?
Of course, being the adventurer he is, he shook off that thought and decided to stay and explore, as if he felt a connection to this place like something remarkable was going to happen to him here. Drawn to the corner of the room, he noticed a sparkle on the wooden floor.
Picking it up. It was two dog-tags with something engraved on it. Bringing the lighter closer, reading it out “Lt Surge…? The Lightning American?” Vaguely remembering the soldier wearing these tags when he fought him. As his fingers brush against the cold-steel hard material, he felt a sudden urge to wear them, tied across his neck.
Tying them, he felt a sense of satisfaction as he blew a sign of relief as if he ran from a ghost just moments ago. However, heat and exhaustion surrounded him as if there was a torkoal in the room. Sweating ferociously, reaching for the zipper of his jacket as he rolled up his sleeves, he yanked the zipper down, exposing his bare chest in the empty gym.
The Heat didn’t change
“Crap this is so hot…” He wanted to strip down if he could, but besides not wanting someone seeing him weak like this, he felt numb. From head to toe, from muscle to mind. This was almost as intense as war.
War? War is far more gruesome than this…Man up…this aint nothing…Ash squinted as he stood up and bore the everlasting heat pouring down on him. What are you, a baby? Furrowed Eyebrows, standing up tall and high like a soldier would, Ash grasped hold and mustered strength to walk.
However, it was as if the gym which was only metres away from the exit became endless in this desert. As every step was taken, the heat burned his tanned skin and even the clothes he wore. Scorching with age, light and smoothness melted away from Ash, leaving a crispy, rough, tanned but darker coat mixed with durability and toughness.
His clothing was no exception, Aqua blue evaporated from the jacket-trousers combo he always wore, replaced with a dominant army green. His clothes began to mature with age, childish thick clothing losing its youthful sheen, leaving only an-open button-collared silk T-shirt hanging on his bare chest, paired with a similar fabric of plain cargo pants reaching to his sneakers.
Good job Ash…Puffing like a marathon runner satisfied, he pumped his chest as he continued his way to the exit. Little did the recruit know, despite the heat, he walked with his back straight up, shooting up towards the celling every passing second the entire time.
Ugh…why do my legs feel so heavy? For Bricks as shoes, his entire body began to pull down with forceful gravity with every passing step, increasing as the drought continues in the Gym. Come on…Come on…Ash tried to, but he wasn’t able to move a budge, the force reckoning him was far worse than being tied to a machoke.
Fury and anger swirled around Ash as the seconds pass by, with a growing body comes with a growing and maturing mind. Why can’t you do this? What a wimp! Even Nurse Joy could do better than that! Determination sparked within his eye. He was no coward, he was a proud soldier wasn’t he? A soldier…
Recalling the times he trained his beloved Pokémon…especially his Pikachu. He was harsh on them wasn’t he? But he needed to toughen them up so that they would be ready for battle…battle for Pokémon battles…
Slowly beginning to lift his 100 pound feet, the soldier stomped hard onto the sturdy floor beneath him. Stretching his left and right arm slowly and carefully, he combatted against weight as he marched proudly towards the exit, with confidence that he will achieve his goal.
As he marched with greater steps, the stomping of his feet became louder. Sneakers maturing to match the rest of his attire, testosterone filled his new army boots, clutching around his feet. As if it was natural, the weight which moments ago became a fluke with every step causing his feet to become humongous adjusted to his new large army-hood.
Defined pectorals and rock-solid abs sprouted in his newly modelled chest, biceps and triceps giving the new lieutenant a more fierce-look. Shoulder blades were sharpened along with his well-adjusted back, connected to a steadier lower-bottom with larger legs strongly pressing against the silk fabric.
His army uniform becoming more complete as the finishing details popped with a large metallic belt tightening around his waist, muscles lines stretching against his combat pants, and breast-pockets spotting on each side of his lieutenant uniform, resting comfortably on his bulging pecs.
Finally, piercing out of the fabric of his gloves were his large rough fingers as it crushed the flexible material into a completely leathered one, with a leathered arm bracer reflecting his manliness on each wrist.
Oh Yeah Great job Lieutenant! Subconsciously addressing himself as the Gym Leader himself, he almost managed to clear the gym quarters, and only the door was left. Lieutenant Sir! You must always patrol the battlefield once more before leaving! A Reminder the lieutenant always gave himself before he decides to make a new move, he wouldn’t want to miss out anything.
He recalled the Lighter he lost within the darkness of the gym he was trying so desperately to leave. To be honest, who cared if he was trespassing enemy territory? He was sure that he could fight his battles like real men would.
As he marched into the darkness once more, unstoppable against heat and weight. Cursing himself as he realised that he was so careless as to drop his lighter over something so pathetic. What the hell? Crushing the object within his two feet.
Ah shit Lieutenant you did a horrible job! Apologise to your commanding officer! But I could just…APOLOGISE YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I’m Sorry….RESPECT YOUR OFFICER YOU FUCK! I’m sorry sir…! LOUDER OR ARE YOU JUST A FREAKING COWARD? I’M SORRY! SIR!
Saluting to no one in particular, the lieutenant bellowed inside his Gym as he screamed his lungs out, forcing pumps of air in and out of his windpipe. GOOD JOB LIEUTENANT! THANK YOU SIR! Instead of a half-cracked voice, out came a fierce, deep smooth shout from the soldier’s strong jaw, supported by the large Adam’s apple surrounded by his thick neck.
Seconds later, the power came back online. Must be the damn Power Station again. By a stroke of chance, he found his way up in front of the large mirror in the Gym’s quarters. Fuck…The lieutenant winced at his reflection. What the HELL happened to my eyes? If not mistaken, he recalled having eyes…larger, wider, and of deep blue, representing his American nationality.
SHIT SHIT…Oh Thank god, a false alarm. Known for his paranoia, the soldier laughed at his silliness. I thought I was going Japanese for a second there. Which wouldn’t really be a surprise, he was here for 13 years, 10 for officially starting the Gym, though sometimes he felt that he had always lived here since he was born, what a funny assumption it was.
He was an all American soldier, lived in and lived to tell the tale of The Great Pokémon War. With the numerous trainings he had given to his Pokémon, he was always prepared against another disaster.
Thunderbolts…lightning…
Scratching off the black soot off his hair for fixing the electric motor in the Gym half-way before the black-out, not aware of the strands of hair shortening and spiking into his scalp in the process. Sparking brightly was his electric style spiked blonde hair, discharging with his passion for battling strong trainers, both physically and with Pokémon, as well as his fondness of electric Pokémon.
He loved them more than any other type, when an enemy’s wailords almost devoured his life that day, his buddy Raichu saved him. He lived, worked, and toughened electric Pokémon as if it was his life job. And it was…
I am LT SURGE, the LIGHTNING AMERICAN! Vermillion’s GYM LEADER!
Stood there in the mirror, was an eight feet giant with a body of a bodybuilder and the demeanour of a dominant, cocky sergeant reeking of testosterone. It’s probably time to get my buddy out of the Pokémon centre. Proclaiming as he confidently walked out his gym with strength and dominance.
Gone were any traces of a teen wanting to leave and explore the world. Left was a man greater sense of belonging to his nation and strength of an Alpha male.
Category Story / Transformation
Species Human
Gender Male
Size 120 x 118px
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