Clydeborg: The Six Million Dollar Ladies’ Man

BY : GeorgeGlass
Category: +G through L > The Loud House
Dragon prints: 1948
Disclaimer: I do not own The Loud House or its characters. I received no money for writing this story. The real Steve Austin was bionic and not a pro wrestler.

Clydeborg: The Six Million Dollar Ladies’ Man

by George Glass

Summary: Clyde’s hopeless crush on Lori becomes a lot less hopeless when he accidentally ingests Lisa’s experimental “adaptation chip.”

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Part 1 of 2

It was a gray, drizzly Saturday, but Clyde McBride felt nothing but good cheer as he strolled down the street in his yellow rain slicker. He was headed to Lincoln’s house, and not only was Clyde looking forward to playing some video games with his best friend, but it was also nice to get out of his perpetually orderly home—and out from under the watchful eyes of his overprotective dads—for a while and instead experience the delightful chaos of the Loud house. There would be even less supervision than usual today, as Lincoln had said that his parents were taking Lily to a play date.

On top of all that, there was the chance that Clyde might catch a glimpse of Mother Nature’s magnum opus and Clyde’s future bride, Lori Loud. One day, Clyde thought as he walked up the door and rang the doorbell, he would come up with the perfect gesture to sweep Lori off her feet and make her forget all about her weaksauce long-distance boyfriend, Bobby, so that she could live happily ever after with Clyde.

The door opened, and there she was, the doorway framing her like a Vermeer portrait of a radiant blonde goddess.

“Oh, hi, Clyde,” Lori said. “Lincoln’s up in his room.”

“L- L- Lori?” Clyde stammered. His body froze as he spoke in a monotone. “System…overload…All…circuits…failing…” 

“Oh, brother,” Lori said, taking a big step backward—just in time to avoid the spray of blood from Clyde’s nose. Then Clyde slumped against the doorframe.

“Lincoln, Clyde’s here!” Lori shouted in the direction of the upstairs. “Better bring a mop!” Glancing at the volume of blood on the floor, she added, “And maybe some sports drink or something! I think he needs fluids!”


Minutes later, Lincoln and Clyde were just finishing cleaning the floor by the front door.

“I’m sorry, Lincoln,” Clyde said. “Every time I get close to Lori, it’s like my whole body just goes haywire. It’s going to make our wedding pretty awkward.”

“Kind of like this conversation,” Lincoln replied with a feeble chuckle. Then, obviously trying to change the subject, Lincoln said, “So, what game do you want to play?”

“How about Extreme Anglers 4?” Clyde suggested. “I read some tips online about how to catch the Great White Sockeye on level three.”

“All right,” Lincoln replied, “let’s go bag him.”


As the boys gamed in the living room, Lisa Loud, upstairs in her bedroom, rubbed her palms together eagerly. Her shiny new 3D printer was making humming and grinding noises as it worked to produce the item she had been designing. With a *ding*, the machine finished its task, and a drawer at its base opened to reveal a tiny microprocessor.

“At last!” Lisa shouted triumphantly, snatching up the chip and holding it in the air. “My Phase Two prototype is ready for teshting!”

“Prototype what?” Lana asked, stopping in the bedroom doorway. She had the family’s pet bulldog, Charles, with her—Lisa had been trying to ignore the crashing sounds that resulted from their playing fetch in the upstairs hallway—and her pet snake, El Diablo, was wrapped lovingly around Lana’s midsection. 

“Having obtained a six-million-dollar grant from the Wildlife Society for research into technological advancements to preserve endangered species, I have developed a self-implanting microprocessor programmed to help animals adapt more readily to their environment. Now that the chip has been successfully teshted in Rodentia, I am ready to move on to larger animal species.”

Eying the two pets with Lana, Lisa added, “I was going to have Isabel’s Laboratory Animals and Party Supplies overnight me some rhesus monkeys, but testing in both a mammalian and a reptilian subject would make for a more thorough evaluation of my adaptation chip.”

“No way!” Lana shouted. “These are our pets! You keep your weird chip away from them!”

With lightning quickness, Lana snatched the chip out of Lisa’s hand, then bolted out the door and down the hall—where she barreled straight into Lynn, who was running the other way with a football under her arm. The chip flew out of Lana’s hand, sailed over the railing next to the stairs, and fell down into the living room, where it landed in the bowl of Cheezy Chipz that sat between the boys on the sofa.

Clyde was absorbed in his and Lincoln’s game and barely heard any of the commotion upstairs. Nor did he look at the bowl of chips before reaching in, grabbing a handful, and shoving it in his mouth even as he and his bestie battled gamefish on screen. Eating junk food—and in the living room, no less, where crumbs could easily land on the carpet or between the couch cushions—was one of the many illicit delights of visiting Lincoln’s house. 

Clyde quickly returned his hand to his game controller, where he was carefully reeling in the massive Great White Sockeye. Whereas Lincoln was going nuts gaffing the daylights out of the huge fish, Clyde had to pace himself; if he tried to reel in the Great White too fast, he could snap his line, and then it would literally be game over.

“C’mon, Betsy,” Clyde murmured to his virtual fishing rod. “Easy does it…”

The adaptation chip, having narrowly escaped being crushed by Clyde’s teeth, proceeded down the boy’s esophagus and into his stomach. The tiny chip was made of nonreactive materials that were impervious to stomach acids, so it continued unblemished through Clyde’s digestive tract before rooting itself in his small intestine. The chip then extruded a series of almost invisibly thin wires through the intestinal wall and into Clyde’s spinal column, where the metal filaments variously extended upward and downward to begin their work.

“Oooh,” Clyde said, feeling a twinge in his stomach. “Guess I better slow down on the chips.”

“Boysh,” Lisa said as she descended the stairs, “have you perchance seen my prototype adaptation chip? It is gray and has a surface area of approximately forty-nine shquare millimeters.”

“Nope,” Lincoln replied absently as he battled the huge fish on the screen. “Haven’t seen anything like that.”

“Me neither,” added Clyde, who was leaning to one side as though body English could somehow help him ease the struggling fish into the boat.

Lisa sighed. Absorbed as the boys were in their game, they probably wouldn’t notice a Smilodon fatalis (street name: sabertooth tiger) padding through the room unless it blocked their view of the television screen.

Clyde, meanwhile, was encountering an unexpected problem. Although the high-test fishing line he’d bought with his experience points from the previous rounds was holding up, stress fractures were forming on his fishing rod.

“Lincoln,” Clyde said nervously, “Betsy’s starting to crack…”

“Just reel him in a few more feet!” Lincoln replied. “We’ve almost got him in the boat!”

Clyde accelerated his reeling only slightly, but the effects were catastrophic: The stress fractures rapidly ran up and down the length of his fishing rod.

“Lincoln, I can’t hold it!” he shouted. As the rod started cracking audibly, Clyde cried. “She’s breaking up, she’s breaking up, she’s breaking-!”

With a loud snap, Clyde’s virtual fishing rod shattered. The line went slack, and the Great White swam rapidly away. The words YOU’RE SUNK! appeared on the screen.

“Oh, man,” Clyde whined. “We almost had him!”

“No big,” Lincoln replied, standing up. “We’ve got all afternoon to beat the Great White.” He picked up the chip bowl and added, “We needed a refill on Cheezy Chipz, anyway.”

“Yeah” Clyde said, “and I need to go to the little fisherman’s room. Be right back.”

Clyde went upstairs and was pleased to see that there was no wait for the bathroom. Much as he loved hanging out at Lincoln’s house, the queue at the bathroom door sometimes rivaled that at the ticket window at a Smooch concert.

The boy had finished peeing and was in the middle of washing his hands when he felt a strange sensation—or rather, several of them. All over his body, Clyde felt tautness in his muscles. And when he lifted one arm to look at it in the mirror, it appeared as though his bicep and upper arm were actually growing larger. Yet both looked blurry. But when Clyde took off his glasses thinking that they needed a cleaning, he realized that he was seeing perfectly well without them.

Oh my gosh, he thought, this is exactly what happened to Lemming Boy in the comics! Does this mean I have lemming powers now? I should try jumping off a cliff.

But before he could give that idea any further thought, Clyde felt another strange sensation, this time in his pants. Not only did they feel tighter in the back because of his newly enhanced butt muscles, they felt tighter in the front, too, as though there were now a lot less space in his tighty-whities. What was that about?

Glancing at himself in the mirror again, Clyde briefly wondered what people—especially Lori—would think of his new body. And the thought of Lori brought up another new feeling: a powerful urge, stronger than any he’d ever felt, to go and see her. To touch her. To do more than touch her.

So he went back out into the hallway. He’d been planning to see if she was in her room, but as it happened, she was just emerging from it and heading for the stairs. Clyde reached her right at the top of the stairway.

And then he froze. As always.

“L- L-” Clyde stammered.

On her laptop’s screen, Lisa was watching this scene through Clyde’s eyes. She hadn’t planned to move to large-animal testing quite so soon—or to human testing at all—but at least now she knew where her prototype chip had gone. What was more, the sensory interface seemed to be working perfectly, as Lisa could both hear Lori’s yelp of panic and see her take a step back to protect her shoes from the imminent arterial spray. Then words appeared in the bottom-right corner of Lisa’s laptop screen.


Suddenly, Clyde felt much calmer, even though Lori was still directly in front of him. A moment later, more words appeared on Lisa’s screen:


Now, Clyde didn’t just feel calm; he felt strangely confident, too. What was more, being able to take a good, long look at Lori without losing either his sanity or consciousness was confirming for him that she was every bit as attractive in the flesh as she was in his many photos, drawings, and fantasies.

“Hey, Lori,” he said. “Doing all right today?”

Now it was Lori’s turn to stammer. “C- Clyde? You’re acting so…normal.”

“I’m never normal around you,” Clyde said smoothly. “You keep taking my breath away.”

“Intriguing,” Lisa murmured to herself. “If the chip functions as designed, opposite-shex members of the same species will recognize the chip’s recipient as an ideal partner for procreation. Thush, they should participate enthusiastically in courtship rituals and shubsequent mating.”

Lori found herself blushing. “Oh, well, Clyde, you’re- you’re very sweet.”

Clyde smiled and looked at her—not up and down, in a lecherous way, but in a way that made it clear that he was taking in the entirety of her, from the crown of her blonde head to her perfect face to her slightly rounded chest to her flat stomach to her slim legs to her painted toenails. To Lori, he seemed to be appreciating her, as though she were a fine work of art. Which Lori was finding weirdly and powerfully appealing.

“So,” Clyde said, “what are you up to today?”

Whatever Lori had been planning to do for the day had gone right out of her head. All she wanted was for Clyde to keep looking at her that way.

“You know, Clyde,” Lori managed, “I, um, I just bought a new tankini, but I’m not sure if it really looks good on me. Would you mind…giving me your opinion?”

“I’m happy to look at you in anything,” Clyde replied.


Lincoln grabbed what would be his fifth handful of Cheezy Chipz in the ten minutes since he had returned to the sofa. He had a new game of Extreme Anglers 4 all queued up; he just needed his teammate.

“Where the heck is Clyde?” he asked no one.

He got up from the sofa and went upstairs. Given how long Clyde had been gone, the boy was either having a serious bathroom emergency or had been roped into whatever Lincoln’s sisters were doing. Lincoln half expected to find his BFF tied to a chair in front of Lola’s dressing-table mirror, his face covered in makeup.

“Hey, Lisa,” Lincoln called, approaching the girl’s bedroom door. “Have you seen Clyde?”

The door slammed shut, and Lisa shouted through it, “Not from an exterior pershpective!” 

Lincoln didn’t know what that meant, so he just continued down the hall.


When Clyde had envisioned a tankini, he had expected something rather more modest. Something a few notches down from a bikini—certainly not a few notches up. Because although the baby-blue top covered all of Lori’s chest and upper back, it left her belly exposed. What was more, the top was so tight that even the parts it did cover might as well have been left bare, as it outlined not only her breasts but also her nipples in perfect detail. And the bottom was little more than a narrow triangle that covered only as much of Lori’s petite, perfect backside as was strictly required by law.

“So…do you like it?” Lori said, turning around slowly as she modeled her new tankini for Clyde. “It’s from the new Mistress Minimalista summer collection.”

“Oh, I like it very much,” Clyde answered. “It really brings out your eyes.”

Clyde’s pants and underwear had already been feeling rather tight on him, and now they were becoming uncomfortably so. In fact, as Clyde looked at Lori’s perfect, minimally clothed body, the problem seemed to be getting worse by the second.

Under any other circumstances, Clyde would have excused himself and fled the room. Except he saw that Lori was looking down at his expanding crotch with utter entrancement.

At that moment, more words appeared on Lisa’s computer screen:


The swelling was going from uncomfortable to painful; Clyde really needed to get out of his pants. And, much to his own surprise, he felt a powerful desire to do it before Lori’s eyes.

He undid his belt and shoved his black pants and white jockeys down to his knees. Out of them sprang an erection whose length and girth were as affecting to Lori as they were astonishing to Clyde.

“OMG,” Lori breathed, staring. “Clyde, you…you’ve got…wow…”


“Huh, the door’s locked,” Leni said to Lincoln as she let go of the knob. “Lori only locks this door when Bobby’s over, or when she’s ‘flicking the bean.’ I don’t know exactly what that means, but since Lori and beans are a bad combination, I always stay away until she’s done.”

Lincoln couldn’t imagine a circumstance under which Clyde would be behind Lori’s locked bedroom door. And whatever else was going on in there, Lincoln didn’t need to know about it.

“Thanks, Leni, I’ll keep looking. Maybe he went outside.”


“This should be faschinating,” Lisa murmured to herself as she stared at Clyde’s substantial shlong as seen through the boy’s own eyes. 

Clyde looked back up at Lori, and Lisa could see several signs that her eldest sister was sexually aroused: increased respiratory rate, pupil dilation, and dermal flushing, among others. And then there was what she did next, which was to move close to Clyde and kiss him passionately.

Clyde could scarcely believe that this was happening. Not only was he kissing the girl of his dreams—not merely being kissed by her, but kissing her back—but he wasn’t even close to losing consciousness. What was more, the powerful urges that drove him were backed up by a degree of confidence he had never before experienced. He now knew without a doubt that he was the perfect man for Lori, and that Lori would be his, now and forever.

Which was why, as they kissed, his hand went to one of her small breasts while the other went around her to cup her petite ass. These actions didn’t discourage Lori in the slightest; instead, she pressed her body to his and opened her mouth wider to invite Clyde’s tongue inside. More significantly, as far as Lisa was concerned, at the same time that Lori was doing these things, she was grasping the hem of her tankini top. As soon as she and Clyde broke off their kiss, she pulled the top up and off, showing Clyde her bare breasts in her most transparent sign yet that she was ready for mating. While the boy gazed at Lori’s little boobs, a huge smile on his face, Lori pushed down her tankini bottom, revealing her petite blonde bush. Clyde’s smile widened.

“Lori,” the boy said earnestly as he gazed at her naked body, “if they ever find the Venus de Milo’s arms and glue them back on, she still won’t hold a candle to you.”

“Oh, Clyde,” Lori sighed. “Come get on my bed with me.”

They lay down on Lori’s bed, and Lori pulled Clyde on top of her. Between rounds of passionate kisses, Lori helped Clyde out of his clothes, gazing with wonder, awe, and lust at his now-muscular body. By the time Clyde was fully naked, Lori couldn’t wait another moment; she wrapped one hand around the base of his substantial cock and spread her legs.

“Put it inside me, Clyde,” she gasped.

This was officially the most amazing moment of Clyde’s life. In fact, he wasn’t even sure that the collective amazingness of his next five most amazing moments would add up to this. But despite his feral need to plunge his cock into the open, willing pussy of the girl of his dreams, he still had enough presence of mind to be sensible and respectful of her.

“Should we,” he asked, “you know, use a condom?” 

If Lisa had been staring at the screen with rapt attention before, she was glued to it now.

“Now,” she murmured to herself, “is the true tesht of whether the chip enhances the reproductive receptivity of a prospective mate.”

She zoomed in on Lori’s hands as the blonde teenager, with slowness perhaps born of reluctance, let go of Clyde’s cock, turned on her side facing away from Clyde, and took a pack of condoms out of her nightstand. She fished a foil-wrapped condom out of the pack and turned back toward Clyde. But just as Lori was about to tear the foil packet open, her fingers moved slightly, from the edge of the packet to the middle, before she tore through the foil.

“Oh, no,” Lori said, her insincerity perceptible even to Lisa’s limited social skills. “I tore the condom. Accidentally. Sorry, Clyde.”

“Got another one?” Clyde asked.

“Um, that, that was my only one,” Lori replied, quickly putting her hand behind her back and dropping the rest of the condoms down between the headboard and the mattress.

“Let’s not worry about condoms, Clyde.” She again took hold of his substantial erection and added, “I need you inside me.”

Clyde wasn’t about to refuse Lori anything she needed, especially this. So when the tall blonde girl again turned onto her back and spread her legs, Clyde climbed on top of her. Lori guided his thick cock-knob to her so-very-wet entrance. Then, eagerly but patiently, Clyde pushed in.

“Ohhhhhhhhh,” he and Lori moaned.

Nothing in Clyde’s experience or even his fantasies could have prepared him for the incredible sensation of slowly sliding his cock—especially a cock as girthy as his now was—into Lori’s Perfect Place. To be with Lori was great, and to be close to Lori was amazing, but to be inside Lori was beyond compare. Her hot, tight love-tunnel held him intimately, and Clyde felt like he could feel her desire for him with every inch of his length.

“Oh, Clyde,” Lori breathed, stroking his curly hair. “This is perfect…”

Because of the difference in their heights, Clyde’s face was hovering just above Lori’s beautifully perky little breasts. He raised his head to look into the teenager’s gorgeous eyes.

“More than perfect,” Clyde replied.

Clyde began moving his cock slowly forward and back inside Lori’s tight channel. His head being where it was, he also took one of Lori’s stiff, pale-pink nipples into his mouth and teased it with the tip of his tongue. Clyde had no idea how he knew to do any of these things, but at the moment, he was just happy to be doing them.

Lisa, still watching with utter fascination, blindly typed, “Having achieved intromission, the subject should now attempt to inseminate the female, and then to continue mating with her for an extended period, ejaculating inside her as many times as is physiologically possible. Which, with the aid of the chip, should be quite a few.”

Lori, meanwhile, was in heaven. Clyde’s voluminous cock was stretching her love-tunnel wider and deeper than Bobby’s ever had. Not only did this feel good in and of itself, but as Clyde moved in and out of her, the tautly stretched tissue around her pussy moved with him, putting indirect, rhythmic pressure on her clit. During sex with Bobby, Lori had to rub her love button if she wanted to reach orgasm, but right now, she was getting all the clitoral stimulation she wanted just by keeping her legs spread wide and moving her hips in slow synchrony with Clyde’s.

“Mmm, Clyde…” she moaned. “Don’t stop…Don’t stop…”

Clyde wasn’t about to stop. But he was taking his time, because even though he felt an urge to go faster, he also felt an urge to ensure that Lori would enjoy this as much as possible—and would therefore want to do it again, and again.

So only when Lori herself began to move her hips faster did Clyde do the same. He also switched to sucking Lori’s other nipple.

“Yes, please, Clyde, more,” Lori whined. “Fuck me more, fuck me more…” 

He pumped her steadily, only increasing his pace when she increased hers. Even though his endurance was significantly better now than it had been a mere twenty minutes ago, he eventually had to stop sucking Lori’s nipples because of the increasingly heavy breathing that the effort of fucking her required.

Lori didn’t mind this; her entire consciousness was now focused on the incredible sensations that Clyde’s cock was producing deep inside her. She wrapped her long legs around Clyde’s waist and fucked her hips even harder against his, desperate for release.

“Fuck me hard, Clyde!” she gasped. “Pound my pussy!”

Clyde couldn’t help but oblige her. He thrust hard, fast, and deep, and Lori bucked wildly beneath him.

“Oh Clyde!” Lori cried. “I’m going to- AAAAAAH!”

“Lori!” Clyde shouted. “Lori, I- I- AAAAAAAHHH!”

Although Clyde had recently figured out how to masturbate, this was the first time that his orgasm had resulted in ejaculation. So he was astonished by the sensation of what felt like a pint of thick liquid shooting from his cock into Lori’s body. It made his orgasm that much more intense, and his hands clutched Lori’s perfect midriff as he came.

Lisa grinned as she continued typing notes. Inadvertent as this test may have been, the chip was performing flawlessly.

“Let’s see that poser Dr. Ludmilla Van Hauser beat this with her so-called neuromodulator implant,” she muttered gleefully. “That woman puts the ‘dope’ in ‘dopaminergic neurotransmission.’”

She kept watching, and soon, Clyde was fucking Lori for the second time and then the third, pumping her little blonde pussy with his outsized cock.

“Faschinating. Utterly faschinating,” Lisa murmured to herself.

The bedroom door suddenly opened, and then Luna was standing in the doorway. Lisa rapidly turned off the sound turned her laptop so that Luna couldn’t see the screen.

“What’s fascinating?” Luna asked.

Lisa sighed. “I really musht remember to secure my room’s point of access.”

Despite Luna’s disregard for Lisa’s privacy, Lisa couldn’t deny the appeal of having someone to whom she could relate what appeared to be the colossal success of her experiment. So she continued, “It would sheem that, among other things, my adaptation chip has enhanced Clyde’s genital size. This is consistent with the chip’s adaptive function: Because vision is the primary sensory modality for homo sapiens, human males have disproportionately large genitals so as to be visually appealing to females. Had a human female ingested the chip instead, it would no doubt have enlarged her mammary glands in a similar fashion so as to attract male attention.”

“Wait, are you saying your chip can make a girl’s boobs bigger?” Luna exclaimed. “How do I get one of those chips?”

Lisa frowned at her. “Why would you be intereshted in becoming a cybernetic organism?”

“Because I’m fifteen years old, and I’m still as flat as a vinyl LP. Sam should wanna lay her hands on me, you know?”

“To my recollection,” Lisa replied, “your romantic partner also possesses mammary glands that do not protrude visibly.”

“Yeah, but Sam’s perfect the way she is,” Luna sighed.

“And you do not believe that she harbors a similar sentiment regarding your appearance?”

“Maybe, but if I can be hot stuff for her, then I wanna be.” 

“Regardlesh of all argument,” Lisa replied, “I cannot ethically manufacture another chip and allow you to ingest it. My research funding would most likely be revoked. This impromptu experiment with Clyde has placed it in considerable jeopardy already.”

Just then, snow-like static appeared on the screen of Lisa’s laptop. A message appeared at the bottom of the screen: SIGNAL INTERFERENCE.

“It seems that local transmissions are disrupting my computer’s connection to the chip.” Her eyes flicked toward the window as she added, “In all likelihood, Mr. Grouse is toying with his ancient ham radio again. In any case, I must move closer to the source. So if you will excuse me…”

Lisa shut her laptop and pressed a button on the underside of her lab table. The air vent in the ceiling opened, and a rope ladder dropped down from it. With her laptop under her arm, Lisa climbed up the ladder, then pulled it up behind her and shut the vent. She didn’t love the idea of leaving Luna alone with her 3D printer, but it seemed unlikely that the teenage rocker or any of the other hairless apes in the household would actually be able to operate it. So Lisa began to scuttle down the ventilation duct toward Lori’s room.

“Soooo,” Luna said, walking casually over to the keyboard and screen that were integrated into the 3D printer, “looks like this baby’s got a classic command-line interface. Let’s see…”

Using the keyboard, Luna was able to pull up a list of commands—including one that would cause the machine to produce another of the last thing it had made.

“Printer, time for your encore,” she said, and pressed Enter. 

The machine whirred to life. Luna waited in suspense for almost two minutes, and then there was a *tink* as something fell into the machine’s dispenser tray. Luna picked up the chip, then smiled at the printer and said, “Domo arigato, Mister Roboto.”

She held up the chip to examine it. It had rounded corners and looked easy enough to swallow.

“Time to switch from vinyl to digital,” Luna said, and gulped the chip down.

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