FSE

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"Hey, you want to see something neat?"

Phil, a common grey squirrel man, looked up at his date. He was still trying to process, internally, that he had just watched this anthro wolf eat easily four thousand calories of meat at the Brazilian steakhouse they'd gone to. Thank god it was an all-you-can-eat. It had been clear his date had only stopped to keep from making a scene.

Well.

More of one.

The sheer scale of the wolf made most onlookers balk: at three meters - that's just shy of ten feet - he defied reason. Sure, there was magic in the world, and maybe for the uninitiated, "make it bigger" seems like a pretty simple request, but to nearly double the height dimension of something as complex as a living being wa-

Interrupting the squirrel's train of thought, Caronte the wolf leveled a half a smirk and a whole raised eyebrow across Phil's bedroom at him from where he was threatening to buckle the bedframe, and absorbed the meal that had been bloating him. The massive canid had a chocolate brown coat over most of his body and chestnut-colored fur where it was thickest at his chest scruff and where it peaked out above tight-fitting cargo pants (that struggled to contain a reason-defying bulge). Those pants creaked audibly as muscle filled out Caronte's thighs, pressing the thick sausage and hanging fruits even more obscenely into relief. Pounds of meat spread from Caronte's gut throughout his already enormous frame. The flesh under the wolf's fur bulged and rippled with the absorption. It wasn't much for someone already so huge, but the display of simply packing on muscle, so easily, had Phil's mouth dry and his own blue jeans tight for a different reason.

"H-how," Phil stammered breathlessly.

Caronte shrugged. He spoke in a low baritone that filled the room with its smooth reverberations. "Born with it."

Phil stepped over on unsteady feet. He was an impressive build, himself, but constrained to mortal proportions. At a hundred-eighty centimeters and eighty kilos of lean, judo-conditioned physique, he cut a fine, thick figure. But he looked like a child next to Caronte, especially once he got up close.

"Sucks it doesn't stay on," Caronte grunted. He reached out a paw and cupped Phil's ass to pull him up into his lap. Phil shivered and unconsciously let his paws come out to play across the breadth of the wolf's torso. He could feel the heat radiating off the huge wolf. There was just so much of him. The squirrel was usually crass, competitive, even mean-spirited, but he was made mute by the beast. The only way they'd been able to go on a date was that the steakhouse itself existed partially underground, where behemoths like Caronte and mobsters like Phil could exist in relative freedom.

"What do you mean?" Phil breathed. His voice was hoarse. His thinly furred hands found themselves rapidly working at first his, then Caronte's belt, button, and zipper to relieve some of the building pressure.

"I don't know how it works," rumbled Caronte as his paws encompassed Phil's torso. The smaller man looked up and froze. He saw something in those big, dark, golden eyes. Proper gold - not shiny and yellow. Gold like an eagle or a hawk. Gold, around widening pupils. Over wet lips. Over a thick tongue that rolled out and bathed Phil's muzzle in wet, slick saliva. After seconds of this, the wolf continued, "but it only stays if the source is alive."

"Oh." Phil trembled. Not again, he thought. He'd run into people like Caronte before. He shouldn't have risked this. He should have known better. "Wh-what. What happens then?"

"I get bigger," Caronte said simply. His breath was hot and wet. It poured over Phil's neck and shoulders. That tongue soaked his throat in a long lick. "They get to be something better."

"Fuck," Phil whispered. His cock, now out in the open air, throbbed greedily despite his fear. Ronte was huge. He needed to be huger. Phil was going to be part of that. He just wasn't sure... "But what happens to me?"

"I don't know, little morsel. I've never let anyone out."

Phil gasped so sharply it sounded like an orgasmic cry. Caronte rubbed his thumbs up and down the squirrel's hard front. "H-how many?"

"Stopped counting. I just know I used to look like you. And that at this point, you're... basically empty calories. But hey. Everyone likes a snack now and then."

Phil squirmed fiercely, but a sudden clenching of Caronte's giant paws, paws that could dwarf his head, paws that felt like they ensnared his entire torso, made him freeze again. He watched those massive jaws open, felt the heat of breath again, and felt the tongue welcome him in. Not again, he thought once more, but he couldn't move. His nose entered the wolf's gullet. He felt the throat tug on him, possess him, and pull him inside Ronte's body. Those paws undressed him as he went, and in a few quick gulps, he felt himself fully inverted, being thrown back to get swallowed down. That thick lupine tongue gathered up his ankles and toes and flowed stickily over them before they sank into the thick, wet gullet. He felt Caronte's heat and heartbeat surround him completely, compress his body, and then take it.

Caronte looked down at the little bulge of Phil inside him. He rolled his shoulders back and flexed, then tightened down on his abdomen and torso. The squirrel writhed for just a moment, and then his form rippled like the last bit of an ice cube before it melted and mass flowed through the wolf from his belly. It surged up his arms and swelled out his pecs, tightened his pant legs against his thighs and nearly tore his shirt at the shoulders. He hummed appreciatively, his pleasure low and full as the tribute worked its way into him.

The squirrel hadn't been tiny. He was a perfectly acceptable meal. Good enough of one that Caronte happily extracted his member and began stroking the thick cannon in preparation to properly appreciate his prey's sacrifice. But... he was dissatisfied. It was getting too easy, and as nice as it was to feel these one night stands squirm, they tended to whine, and sob, and all sorts of things that could make it hard to get off afterwards. Phil had at least gone down easy. Ronte would paint this guy's apartment with spunk, and then it was time to leave the city. It was getting boring here.

It was time to go hunt something proper.

--

Torvanskir the dragon surveyed his domain. Out here in the wild forests, where even modern civilization dared not build, boundaries were no better defined than by streams, tree lines, and what someone like himself could easily defend, and that meant occasionally checking to be sure they hadn't been threatened. Normally, he would have been either sailing the air currents to track big game for his meals, resting amidst his piles of collected magical artifacts, or experimenting with new spells. But today, someone had caught his attention by sound alone and entered his lands.

There the intruder was: A mile and a half away, by Tor's estimation, an anthropomorphic wolf was in the midst of a feeding frenzy. He pounced, his enormous bulk closing distance with terrific speed, and trapped a lynx in his paws and under his weight. The feline predator seemed like a newborn kitten in the wolf beast's hands. The wolf's maw gaped, his head lunged forward, he gulped twice, and the lynx was gone.

"Do you see that?" Tor murmured.

A hedge wizard Tor had pretended to forget was trapped under one of the enormous azure dragon's forepaws. He whimpered. "No?"

Tor cocked his head and looked down at the scrawny caster, an anthro raven he had caught snooping around his hoard. "I thought I told you to prove your skills of observation were good for more than thievery."

The raven squirmed again and crushed an ampule. Tor cocked his head the other way and with a snort and wave of his other paw, dispelled whatever magic the raven had summoned. "Is that a recall spell in a bottle?"

The hedge wizard went limp while Tor's head and reptilian, yellow eyes got unpleasantly close. "It was, yes," he muttered.

"I'll have to inspect it more thoroughly later." He opened his jaws around the raven's head and shoulders, then tossed his head up to send the man floating for just a moment, before snapping upwards and swallowing him down in a single gulp. "Mmmmm, assuming you're still around by the time I'm done with this intruder. Practice your barrier spells, little raven."

The dragon smiled to himself as he felt the wizard squirm. Once inside him, a magic-user like this would feed power into Torvanskir until they were completely used up. He turned his head to look at his shoulders. Scales spread to make way for new ones as his snack fed itself to him in terror, spells becoming ethereal mist that simply flowed into Tor the moment they were cast. Under those spreading scales, muscle bulged outward - not much, as this was a neophyte practitioner at best, but the growth accelerated as the caster became increasingly desperate and dumped the reserves that hadn't gone into his initial escape attempts. Enjoying the tantalizing sensations that radiated through his body, the dragon turned his attention back to the hubbub in his territory.

While Tor watched, the wolf sprinted through a clearing and tackled a fully-grown stag to the ground. He wrestled it with obvious glee. Perhaps the man was looking for proper challenges...?

Tor felt down beneath him with one paw to find the bulge of hedge wizard had gone still, spent. The little man should have known better. There was a reason society dared not spread its fingers this far past its own borders. Torvanskir was that reason.

By the same token, Tor had another intruder to deal with. If that ravenous predator was looking for a challenge, Tor could offer him one, certainly...

--

Caronte slapped his own chest with a broad paw and hummed with a deep appreciation. The sound was like beating a bass drum. He was technically sated, he supposed, but having had a taste of what the wildlife out here could do for him, he knew this was a hunger that would last a long, long time. The stag had packed on well over a hundred kilos of pure muscle, and the best part was that Caronte could feel it would stay. Why had he never tried this before? The beasts out here, magically endowed as they were, could make him... His loins stirred at the thought of how huge he could become. He would be unstoppable. He would tower over people and beasts - he would tower over myths.

Gradually, the great wolf became aware of a heavy rushing sound over the wind. He was making his way up a low hill to get a better view of his surroundings and the sound seemed to somehow be coming from within it. Perhaps an underground river, and the hill was hollow? It took a while, but he noticed a timbre to the sound and a rhythm. For a minute, it would build to a peak, and for a little longer than a minute, it would rush out again, as though something were blocking the theoretical flow. It didn't make much sense, but perhaps there was some magical well or dam that was controlling it. He crested the hill enough to see over the edge and fell backwards down it again in shock.

He could have sworn... no. Nothing could be that big. Crawling on his belly, he made his way to the top again and peered down the opposing slope.

That was a lot of dragon. Lying on its side, it was hard to say for certain, but the creature was easily four meters at the shoulder, if not more. Of course, given its quadrupedal arrangement, that meant the rest of its body measured far more - five and a half meters nose to haunches, and that length again of tail that curled loosely beneath its feet. Its sleek body bulged with muscle that seemed to crowd out against the skin holding it, as though physical flesh was a poor container for a being of such power. And the wings... Densely muscled roots anchored the folded, leather canvas between enormous shafts of bony framework. One could teach the anatomy of how each one wrapped around or over or through the rest to even dare to lift the body they attached to, given how they strained out against the scaled skin. And he could not ignore that resting between a wide, relaxed-looking opening just above the waist were two pronounced mounds each nearly as large as Caronte himself - well, before he'd feasted on the stag - which shifted subtly in minute adjustments to the temperature as the wind blew down the hillside.

Caronte was surprised to find himself intimidated. He hadn't felt outclassed in what felt like years. He'd eaten... he tried to count. Was it dozens? Dozens of other men, most of them prime athletes and bodybuilders, to pack their pounds onto his, to prey on men so large they could crowd an elevator by themselves, such that there was no one who made Caronte even begin to feel uncertain or challenged. This beast was... out of his league.

A voice like a mountain sank into Caronte's bones. "The name is Torvanskir. You may shorten it to Tor, as your time here will be short enough as it is." The dragon had spoken.

--

Caronte recovered quickly. His own gravely, baritone voice met the dragon's challenge. "The name is Caronte."

Tor slowly stood, to impress his size upon his visitor. He rose up... and up... and up, until his shoulders were fighting with the greatest branches on nearby trees. "What brings you to my territory, Caronte? Disturbing my forest and hunting my game?"

The wolf raised an eyebrow and frowned. "Were you pretending to be asleep?" he asked, with a hint of teasing in his tone.

Tor went still, then quietly belched. "That is none of your concern."

"You fell asleep after an afternoon snack."

A great many sharp teeth revealed themselves in a grin. "I am found out."

"Well, it's not your game anymore, dragon." Caronte slapped a huge paw on his bare chest and arrogantly grinned right back. "Now, it's just more of me."

"Then I shall take you as payment."

Caronte held up a halting paw as the dragon's tongue flicked out to wet his lips and a toothy maw that looked like it would have no trouble swallowing even someone his size opened. He realized that, much as it pained him to admit, Tor was simply more than he could deal with. If he wanted to challenge this monster, he'd need to be much, much bigger. It was clear, though, that Tor wasn't about to simply let him leave at this point. So he needed a source, and one he could get without going far...

With Torvanskir standing up, the answer became instantly clear. Those enormous assets between his hind legs held one of the most potent sources of magic in the world - at least, according to the black market purveyors he'd known. If Caronte could fill himself with that, well, that was three birds with one stone: He'd tire out the dragon, turn all of that potent seed into more of him, and on top of it, have a hell of a good time.

"What if I instead offered... services?" he offered with a simple shrug. "No one back in town can really afford me a good time anymore. It's part of why I stuff the whole man in my throat instead of just part of him. I'm sure you have the same problem, but you don't know anyone with my talent. I guarantee it." He smiled, dragged his broad, wet tongue around the perimeter of his lips, and swallowed loudly.

Tor narrowed his eyes in thought and tried to ignore the instant stirring he felt between his legs. It had been a dry spell since any real sexual relief, and certainly there had been precious little of what this Caronte was offering. He knew he should turn it down, in the back of his mind. But, something-something supply and demand, and he found himself responding.

"Yes. That will do nicely. An exchange of goods for services - you can keep everything you can catch," he said with a fierce smile, "and I promise not to catch you."

"It's a deal," came Caronte's eager reply.

--

_ _

Caronte knelt under the enormous dragon, grinning a private grin. This was a win-win situation, to him. Torvanskir's cock was already thicker than his head and clearly wasn't done growing, yet. The black flesh throbbed with anticipation. A curious, horizontal ribbing pattern oddly reminiscent of the transverse rings on a throat adorned the belly of the dick. After the spade-shaped head, it grew to a huge girth, well-supplied with dense, pulsating vasculature. It was magnificent to behold.

The size didn't worry Caronte. He was accustomed to accepting meals far thicker than his own throat, and this would be no different. He grabbed the growing cock in both beefy arms and bent his head reverently to some of those swollen veins to lap along their heat while his palms stroked the underbelly. This would all be his, he thought. He needed a taste, and he would easily get big enough to make a proper meal out of this unsuspecting, overgrown lizard.

Tor's voice rumbled out again. "You really intend to fellate something that size unaided?" he asked, amused. There was already a touch of arousal deepening and warming his voice, making it breathier. "You're confident, but perhaps too much so. Take this." One of the huge claws reached under to hand Caronte a metal armlet. Where had it come from...? Caronte hadn't seen a hoard nearby. If the dragon kept these inside him, it might be a pain to cough those up later.

"What does it do?" he asked gruffly, annoyed at being taken from rubbing himself along the cock that had by now grown to almost the same size as him.

"Elasticity. You will need it."

Hm. Well, fine, then. Caronte accepted the armlet, which appeared made of gold and inlaid with emeralds in linear patterns, and slipped it onto his right arm. It gripped around his biceps tightly. He grunted. Hopefully it could grow with him. It would mean he could carry out his plan faster, though. At last, he went back to his work.

The wolf couldn't stand it. He needed that sensation of swallowing something bigger than himself. It had been ages since he'd had a properly challenging meal. He could feel the muscles of his throat and the metabolic fires of his body demanding to be fed. He yawned his jaws around that tapered crown and welcomed the ribbed belly in with his tongue. Tor thrust forward by half a foot, instantly filling Ronte's maw and growling out his amused pleasure. Rather than gagging or being irritated by the invasion, Ronte loosened his jaw even more, gladly accepting the challenge and diving his head forward to press that impossible cock into his throat.

"Oh..." Tor rumbled in delight. "Oh, perhaps you weren't exaggerating your talents after all..."

With his mouth full, it was difficult for Caronte to respond. He instead focused on his goal. Inches of wolf cock had already spilled from his sheath, but now it throbbed outward in excitement, as Tor started slowly bucking his hips to sink himself, inches at a time, deeper into Ronte's powerful body.

With one thrust, six inches went in and spread the wolf's jaws. It should have gotten painful, but the armlet shot a pulse of magic through Caronte's skin and muscles and skeleton, and he stretched wider. An inch or two came back out, but Caronte scooted forward on his knees to prepare for the next thrust, and another half a foot drove into him. The beast's haunches were unspeakably strong. These were clearly not full-force, but they still made the enormously muscular wolf stumble back and forth to follow them. Another half a foot, and he stretched wider, and another, and with his eyes wide, Caronte felt in his abdomen with his fingers were that cock had dived nearly to his waist. The dragon moaned in pleasure when those fingers touched, so the wolf pressed both palms firmly down.

"Mmmmm... that's good. Creative."

You don't know the half of this... Caronte thought. With a torso other men could use as a mattress, made entirely of hot, throbbing musculature, Caronte squeezed. Torvanskir rattled the clearing with a low roar. Meaty pectorals bunched up, compressing down against the belly of the dragon cock within, followed by a rippling, downward application of striated abdominal muscles like pliable, hot marble.

Tor's knees started to go weak. It had been so long. It had been ages. His body shuddered as he edged near to orgasm and his hips bucked once of their own volition before he was able to clamp down on the climax. He covered the momentary loss of control by pretending laziness: almost all at once, he sank down onto his flank, yanking Ronte to the ground with him. The enormous wolf hadn't been yanked anywhere in years. He caught himself on his hands and feet, though, and heard Tor's rumble of surprise at how those powerful limbs anchored Caronte to the ground and kept him from losing balance.

Caronte then climbed onto the dragon's belly - onto sheets of folded musculature that made the wolf wag with anticipation of its soon being his - and, once on his hands and knees, began to rock his entire body back and forth. He could feel the texture of that ribbing, whatever it was for, sliding in and out of his body as he thrust himself, feet at a time, around and over the shaft that filled him end to end. His eyes lit on a forming knot. He wasn't sure if it was at all possible to contain, but what he sought was beyond it: a pair of nuts that rolled slightly each time he drove himself down that length, each of which was the size of his torso. The seed from those would make him huge, and then? They would be his.

The wolf closed his eyes as he got into his rhythm. The scent of arousal filled his nostrils, slightly stronger each time he sank down on that shaft. He knew Tor was close. It didn't feel like it had been long, but getting that cock inside him that gradually had taken minutes, he knew. He felt bright with excitement. Much as he was simply doing this as part of his scheme, it had been years since he'd experienced something truly new like this. He was rock-hard by now, with an excess of thirty inches of fist-thick canid dick leaking copiously over the smooth, hard belly it dragged across with each of Caronte's lunges. He was going to swallow this load, and then eat this dragon, and then find his hoard and claim it, too. He practically shivered with the thought, body clenching and jerking unbidden as he drove his own arousal to a peak.

And that jerking was the final thing it took to drive Tor over the edge and at long last, demonstrate to Caronte what the ribbing was for: the sheer overwhelming volume of dragon cum that cock was used to dispensing. It fired into him like a hot springs geyser. His eyes flew open. The stream of cum stretched out his jaws and throat another three inches just from the expansion of the cock's belly. The first serving took six seconds to spend itself, and the second, ten, long, flowing, forceful streams of cum where smaller men spat seed out in fractions of a second. The wolf would have howled with triumph if anything could make it past the still-swelling blockage in his throat, but instead he satisfied himself by wrapping his two hands beneath Tor's knot and driving the dragon to even greater heights by simulating being tied with those broad, ferociously strong hands.

Tor had no such constraints on his ability to sonically express his pleasure. Entities for miles in every direction heard his orgasmic roar as pleasure burned through his body. He clamped his forepaws onto Caronte's back and shoved his hips forward, base animal instinct begging him to knot until the wolf cinched his hands the way he did. He could feel the wolf's belly bloating with the torrential rush of his climax and he let his tongue loll out of his maw in brainless, ecstatic bliss as every sign of his potency simply drove his climax higher, and higher, minutes passing and barrels of dragon cum pumping into Caronte until the wolf was comically bloated with his seed. He roared again, and again, over and over to let the world know of his explosive pleasure.

At long last, the dragon Torvanskir's hips stopped their unbidden bucking and his flow slowed to a pint-sized occasional spurt. He relaxed his grip, and Caronte immediately backed himself up to release the cock that had gifted him such an incredible volume. The wolf heaved in air, lungs straining against the pressure of all that seed in his abdomen, and laughed low. Great schemes or dealings between powers like himself and the dragon be damned, there was a sheer giddiness to having for one, experienced such a legendary orgasm and for two, having his elastic belly spread across this dragon like a balloon. And for three, of course, there was the deep, primal satisfaction as he felt his supernatural body begin to feast on the bounty he'd been given.

His systems reveled in it. This wasn't the seed of some mere mortal. This wasn't meat from a squirming, puny morsel. This was an essence infused with ancient magic. It shot through Caronte's body like fire, and he began to grow. He held himself still and controlled his breathing. He was still too weighed down by dragon seed to try anything. Patience. Soon, he wouldn't just have the output - he'd have the source, churning away inside him and making him... what would he even become...

_ _

--

_ _

Radiating afterglow and still spilling after-cum like a recently spent volcano, Tor took his time before opening his eyes. It amused him to feel the weight of his own output contained in the impossibly bloated wolf atop his own belly. It really had been a legendary blowjob. The dragon could barely remember the last time he'd been properly given head. There simply weren't all that many beings who could manage such a feat, and often, he grew hungry or bored well before they'd gotten to that stage with him.

After a few minutes of simply breathing and enjoying the beautiful, warm, stretching sensations after climax, Tor noticed something changing. The weight on his belly had redistributed itself. He could feel Caronte's thighs much farther up his chest. The wolf seemed to at last be catching his breath, and while he was, he was growing. Tor opened his eyes. The wolf had been muscular before, but this was something truly marvelous. The ass and thighs were the first things he saw, and as he watched, the plates of muscle defining them shifted and grew, as though they were pooling molten lead being poured. Vasculature throbbed with urgency to supply the rapidly growing flesh, visible even through the coat of fur. The huge feet the wolf splayed out were expanding, as well, with thick tendons wrapping themselves in new layers, fibers splitting and thickening and then splitting and thickening again, preparing to support the enormous new weight of their owner. Tor's gaze traveled up to the wolf's heavily muscled back and the mountainous topography there, which rippled as it grew: bulging upward, then spreading outward, growth into either axis timed with the wolf's labored breathing. And, of course, his nuts, giant orbs growing in throbs timed with Ronte's heartbeat, never slowing.

Tor was impressed. The wolf could clearly take potent meals - like the invaluable seed of a true dragon - and turn them into more of himself. And judging on the size of the belly still squished against Tor's own, there was a lot of growth still to come. Tor smirked. He had always been potent. And copious.

And impatient. He wasn't about to let this morsel have even a chance at consuming him, absurd as the notion was. He snapped down at Caronte's feet, but the wolf snatched them out of the way and rolled off onto the ground. He stumbled with his new weight, then steadied himself and grinned ferociously, looking at himself.

"That's more like it," the wolf growled through an enormous, toothy grin.

"Impertinent," Tor growled. Then, he rolled upright and lunged his jaws forward again. A lot of people didn't understand that big wasn't slow. Big was fast. That reptilian head darted forward so quickly that all the wolf could do was block his own head with his arms.

He surprised both of them by catching the dragon's teeth near the back of his jaws. There was a momentary pause before the wolf grinned anew. His triceps and chest and shoulders bulged first with strain, and then grew more as his body continued to process a belly full of seed. He was easily four meters tall, now, and showed no signs of stopping - not with what looked like a wine barrel stuffed in his gut. Tor, of course, couldn't see his expression, with the head and chest of the wolf caught in his jaws, but he could feel the body swelling inside his maw, and could feel the strength of Ronte's grip on his teeth not diminishing in the slightest, but growing.

Caronte snarled as he felt himself beginning to overpower the dragon's jaws. "I'll show you 'impertinent.'"

Torvanskir felt himself driven backwards. He frowned in concern. No. Had the intruder really gotten so strong, he could...? Impossible. It was unthinkable that something the dragon had produced from merely a single climax could make someone stronger than he was! He snarled and pushed back into the fight. This was primal and fierce. He was a master of deep magics, and the most fearsome predator in miles and miles around. His trunk-like feet and bony claws dug into the ground for purchase, but he started feeling himself driven backwards again. Caronte's arms bulged, swelled, exploded with ferocious power as he started working his way back out of that maw without giving an inch of ground. Impossible! He was... could he get as big as Torvanskir? Could he outgrow his patron? No!

In a desperate bid, Tor lunged forward with everything he had. Caronte howled and met the lunge with his own might. At the same moment, Tor dipped his head, slipped backwards slightly, then anchored his forepaws to the ground, angled his head upwards, and stretched his reptilian jaws one step wider. Caronte wasn't used to his new weight distribution. His hands slipped on the saliva-coated teeth. The sagging pendulum of his gut carried him forward with the momentum Tor had manipulated, then passed a point of balance, then started dragging him down into the dragon's gullet.

It was a much more pleasurable swallowing experience than Torvanskir had anticipated, in no small part because of the relief he would never, ever admit that he felt at having won. His insatiable throat muscles were unstoppable once they had prey trapped within. With Ronte's enhanced size, he made far more of a meal than the dragon was used to. His throat bulged marvelously and, without the ground for friction, Caronte was helpless to the whims of gravity. He slid down, despite being shockingly close to the same size as Tor, and was dragged, titanic physique and all, to hang in Tor's belly like in a hammock. One in close contact with the ground, of course.

And at that point, Tor glowed. Not just physically, either, and that alone was coruscating sapphires and lapis lazuli, skies and seawater, as magic flew across his skin in exultant absorption. No, there was something novel in this Caronte creature, something that took mass and magic and seized it more efficiently than any implement Tor had either won or devised. With Caronte in his belly, Torvanskir could drain him of his size and his power. That draining floored him with its amplitude. He trumpeted out his pleasure, unable to otherwise process what he was feeling. His claws dug trenches in the ground as they shot away from each other with the speed of his growth. Tor's forearms expanded from merely able to threaten hovels to tank-hurling, tree-shattering weapons of muscle mass and destruction. His thighs pulsed, muscle flowing across them like waves on a beach accumulating with the rising tide. He flapped his wings once. Trees that were too young bent at the base and bowed; those that were too old cracked in the summoned wind_._ And even as he grew, he felt the wolf inside him still processing his seed and expanding. The two of them were unstoppable. The two of them together, why, if this was what they could do while they were fighting, if they were to cooperate...!

"Alright, wolf," Torvanskir said at long last, his voice billowing over the area but huffing with exertion, "it's hardly wise to simply end someone so useful. I didn't... I underestimated you."

Caronte snarled from inside him. He was furious that Torvanskir had gotten the best of him, and with a cheap trick! "What would that mean?" he grated through his teeth, unwilling to acknowledge the dragon's victory.

Tor swung his foreleg in a pattern that followed the sweeping design outlined on the armlet he'd given his competitor. In a rush of air, Caronte appeared in front of him. The wolf was almost child-sized compared to the now-titanic dragon, and yet, he was the biggest he had ever been. Conservation of mass had gone to hell. Conservation of energy appeared to have acquired two new custodians. "There are beings - djinni, elder dragons, giants, demigods - beyond my claims that even I cannot challenge. With you... we could swallow them."

Ronte panted, his mind fuzzy with the teleportation, and with a fear he refused to acknowledge. He had nearly been bested. The fear swiftly dissolved under the weight of his ravenous hunger, though, and the temptation of... well, a colossal dragon with nuts that could take down buildings is hot. He wouldn't mind spending more time around Tor. He shook his head to clear it. "I can... yeah." His expression changed to ferocious glee as he processed the offer. "We can do that. Can I hunt here? There are other creatures here besides you, aren't there? Normal meals and normal people are boring, but I'll need to keep growing." His eyes flashed dangerously. "I have to keep growing."

Tor grinned. "As long as you don't collapse my ecosystem, you'll have anything and everything you need. We'll topple nations, you and I." He licked his lips. "And we'll fuck like kings. You kept your word about a legendary orgasm."

Caronte rolled one shoulder with raw pride. "Yeah." He offered a hand. "Deal."

"Always good to strike a profitable bargain," Tor rumbled. He leaned forward and clasped the mighty hand with his own. "Good to meet you, Caronte. Happy hunting."