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The Candy Factory (Prelude)

By Danath

* * *

Slim-bellied and fat-hipped, dressed in a pair of tight neon green booty shorts and a thin white t-shirt crop top, the sultry and confident black panther looked out of place in the bar. That was clear to the ragged assortment of large, brutish bikers, truckers, and hard drinkers. Nobody needed to ask the obvious question - Why would a twinky little morsel showing off so much lean kittyflesh ever dare set foot in a rough-n-tumble biker bar? - because there was only one reason, and a few of the them exchanged knowing glances and smirks.

The feline sauntered in regardless. Each confident step oozed a casualness that set the teeth of various patrons on edge. Dozens of pairs of eyes watched as the black-furred feline, dark as midnight, swung his wide hips side to side, rope-like tail curled daintily above the thick, round cheeks. He leaned forward against the bar, hips sticking out and pulling the short legs of the neon green shorts even higher. The black furred feline smiled at the bartender while his hips swayed behind him.

The ram stared down the bridge of his muzzle at the panther. Black fur coated his head, but his face was white, as were his large, spiraling horns. He flicked his ears and leaned forward, speaking up over the sound of the heavy metal music blaring over the speakers hanging in the corners.

The feline nodded and glanced behind the bartender, surveying the offerings, before sliding a crisp twenty across the counter.

"Cranberry vodka," he purred.

The ram shook his head, greasy hair swirling in air. "No cranberry."

The panther rolled his eyes theatrically. "I'll survive, I suppose," he grumbled. "Vodka soda, in that case."

The bartender clanked a somewhat clean glass down on the counter, swilled a few shots of low-grade vodka over the ice rattling inside, then poured some warm soda over top. He pressed it forward, sliding it distastefully across the bar as though a mixed drink could infect him somehow, then picked up the twenty.

"Keep the change, cutie," the panther said, winking at the bartender. The ram's eyes narrowed, but then he shrugged and pocketed the bill. The bartender glanced behind the feline and decided to make himself scarce at the far end polishing glasses with a dirty rag.

The panther's hips jutted out, taut and plump rump on full display in his pelt-tight pair of stretchy shorts. His t-shirt, by contrast, was oversized and loose despite being cut off at the chest to show off his lithe figure. The neck was especially stretched and hung down over one shoulder, showing off the smooth glimmer of his obsidian pelt even in the dim lights of the smoky, dirty biker bar. The threadbare t-shirt was so worn it appeared gray thanks to the lush coat of svelte, smooth fur beneath, which shifted and rippled across his lean body in the dingy light.

The panther stretched a paw out, narrow fingers reaching for the recently-filled glass, but stopped short when a large shadow reached past him. There was a small hiss, then a cloud of ash in the vodka and ice from the extinguished cigar. The panther cocked an eyebrow and leisurely drew his gaze up the broad, powerful arm, taking note of the dense black fur and thick, powerful cords of muscle running through the biceps and triceps. Eventually he deigned to look up at the large biker's face, a smirk on the panther's own muzzle.

The black bear leaned over, shoulders hunched, stretching the taut leather jacket hugging his beefy torso. Thick rolls of neck fur spilled around the collar, making it hard to tell where his neck ended and his head began. His belly pressed forward as he drew his arm back, bumping suggestively against the panther's backside with the front of his denim jeans.

"I think you wandered into the wrong bar, kitten," the black bear said, his voice a raspy grunt. "You sure this is your scene?"

The panther didn't say anything as he slipped his fingers around his drink and lifted it towards his muzzle, pausing to pull the half-smoked cigar free. His hips worked methodically backwards in time with the music, rubbing and grinding into the grinning bear's belly. The small feline's sharp white teeth flashed as he nipped off the wet tip and spat it on the floor next to the black bear's large boots. He spun the glass in his other paw twice, then tipped it back and drained it, ice cubes and cigar ash and all, in a few easy gulps.

Setting the glass back on the counter, the panther pointed with a finger to motion the bartender back for a refill. The cigar stub appeared between his lips, lit and smoking somehow, as he curled his lithe body backwards, both arms now stretching up and back. The smaller male's shoulders barely reached past the bear's pecs, but it was far enough to dig his fingers and claws into the thick ruff of fur around the larger male's neck. The feline's head twisted, exhaling a cloud of thick cigar smoke upwards, past the bear's long snout, as his lower back curled against the biker's belly while his rump flattened over the crotch.

"Oh, it's very much my scene," the panther said, his voice husky and playful. "I just bought this place an hour ago. Meet your new owner."

The ram's head snapped up, as did most of the heads of the various patrons in the place. More than a few scowls broke out as the black bear's claws descended, lightly settling around the panther's shoulders as the bear's grumbling voice spoke up over the music.

"Wanna say that again?" he asked.

The music cut out just as the panther's high, sweet voice rang out. Trying to speak over the music, he ended up shouting into a silent room.

"Ol' Jack sold the bar to me! I'm the new owner!"

Several chairs scraped across the floor as the bar's residents murmured amongst themselves. Change was not a feature for which the 35th Street Bar was known. Change, in this dingy, dirty, poorly-lit club, was often met with some sort of violence, which several half-drunk patrons were already considering.

"Woops, sorry about that. Anyways, I own this place now, big changes coming! Well, some big, some small," the panther said, still wiggling his backside playfully against the scowling black bear as he pulled out a deed and other paperwork from somewhere on his person. "Good cigar, by the way. Anyways, if you don't want to get caught up in the construction and remodeling, you should probably take a hike!"

The last part was directed at the rest of the bar. The disturbance to the metal-laden peace and quiet several of the customers sought was gone, or at least, would be, once the more aggressive drinkers got their hands around the panther's neck. A stream of people trudged out the door, momentarily allowing the bright afternoon sunlight to shine through and highlight the poor state of the dingy brown linoleum floor.

A few patrons remained after the panther talked loudly about changing the focus of the bar and using the space to its fullest effect, maybe operating as a coffee shop and bakery during the day, with a club house hit parade every night, and on and on. The spiel about go-go dancers drove off another handful of people who figured they'd simply come back once the more active members of the club's membership dealt with the problem. Eventually, it was just Cary, the black bear, the bartending ram, and half a dozen large, upset males, the shortest among them still a full foot taller than the twinky little feline.

The ram minded his own business down at the other end of the bar, wondering only if he'd still have a job for not trying to stop the beatdown - or worse - about to be laid upon the black panther's shoulders. Or at least, he tried to.

"Hey, bartender! How about that drink?" the panther called out. "By the way, if you'd like to stay on, you're hired. I always did have a thing for guys with horns..."

The feline's words trailed off when he felt large claws spin him around on the stool, facing away from the bar. In a semi-circle around him, the seven defenders of the 35th Street Bar stared down at the small, skinny feline, eyes narrowed and claws out. On the far left, a hefty jaguar with a mop of shaggy dark black hair growled and leaned forward, but the feline's voice interrupted him.

"Now, I'm sure you're wondering, what sort of an owner am I?" the panther said, his voice as casual as could be. On the right end of the semi-circle, a tall, muscular spotted leopard nudged his neighbor, a hulking grey-furred rabbit with flopped-over, pinned-back ears full of criss-crossing scars, and made the "crazy" gesture with his finger while grinning wide. "Let me introduce myself properly. I'm Cary. Pleasure to meet you all. Were you employees of the... what was it... the 35th Street Bar? Dreadful name, will have to go... any suggestions?"

A rising chorus of deep-throated growls rose in pitch as the panther rattled off a few ideas, but when he suggested renaming "this ugly dump" to "The Candy Factory" because "we're all gonna be so sweet," the black bear's patience snapped. With a snarl, he reached out and dug his claws into the twink's shirt, dragging him up off the stool until the panther's legs hung in the air. The bear ripped the cigar out of the cat's muzzle and tossed it aside, then leaned in close. The black feline didn't attempt to resist as the bear's lips pulled back, inches from the panther's muzzle, red tongue exposed.

"Oh? You have a suggestion?" Cary asked, a winsome smile on his plump black lips. His hips squirmed against the broad bulk of the bear's belly.

"My suggestion is that you leave!" the bear roared, enough power in his voice to flatten Cary's ears back.

"Now, now," Cary purred, his voice dropping lower. "Is that any way to treat your new owner?"

The black panther's fingers reached up and pinched the bear's thumb, then twisted to the side. The cat landed on his feet with a pert little jiggle as the black bear dropped to his knees, head askew, muzzle clenched tight with pain from where the panther's claws dimpled a pressure point. His fingers stretched outwards, vibrating side to side as his eyes widened, unable to keep a grip on the small male.

"Sigh... I'd really rather not do things the hard way..."

The other six members of the group all took a step back as the bear quivered, trembling in the feline's loose and relaxed grip. Cary turned to the bar, signalling once more for the ram, who quickly rushed up with a lukewarm vodka soda. The feline made a face as he sipped it and twisted the bear's wrist further, eliciting a howl from the massive male that echoed through the room.

"Ugh, I think it was better with the cigar in it. We're definitely going to teach you how to make some better drinks there, uh..."

The feline trailed off expectantly, bright eyes boring into the ram's.

"Uh... it's Spud, uh, sir."

"Spud? Why do they call you Spud?"

"I like potatoes."

The feline blinked twice, slowly, then grinned and twisted the bear's arm further. The watching group made as if to move forward, but the bear's wincing expression as he waved them back made them pause. Cary relaxed his grip just slightly, allowing the huge bear to squirm around and untwist his arm on the floor next to the stool.

"You have a wonderful bartender. I hope you've all tipped Spud well. Now, let's see..."

The panther sipped at his drink, making the occasional odd face as he took a few steps towards the burly gray rabbit on the far end. The black bear cried out again as he twisted to follow, trying to keep his arm and nerve from getting stretched any further. Cary smiled up at the rabbit, who stood at least six and a half feet tall and weighed probably twice what the slinky, thick hipped black panther did. Most of it was muscle, judging by the way the hare's t-shirt pulled taut across his beefy pecs and washboard belly.

"Mmm... nice..." Cary murmured, strolling along to the spotted jaguar next.

"What the fuck is going on?" the jaguar demanded, snarling as the black bear whimpered. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Oh, sassy... I like that," Cary purred. "I'm the owner, and I think you'll be Saturday."

The jaguar scrunched up his muzzle, confused. "Saturday?"

Cary smiled and nodded. "Of course, because if he's Friday-" The panther paused and glanced at the black bear kneeling next to him, wrist still gently held between the feline's fingers. "-and the other one is Monday, that means you're Saturday. It'll be great. Everyone loves Saturday."

The panther left the jaguar in his confused state. There was just nothing any of them could seem to say that made the panther acknowledge them. It was strange. His confidence caught them off guard. No, not just confidence. His blithe disregard for their ability to control him in any manner whatsoever, whether threats or physical force or something else. Saturday glanced around at the faces of his drinking companions and biker buddies, wondering if they were as confused about this as he was. Saturday's tail twitched as he sensed something strange about the bar and he glanced behind himself, eyes wide. The dingy, dirty linoleum flooring, stained from countless cigarettes and spills, was gone. The countless scrapes and gashes, the uneven edges from a shoddy install, the poorly patched sections beneath the tables - all gone. A gleaming, modern, luxurious black hardwood floor ran the length of the bar instead. It fit into every corner, ran beneath all the same furniture, but Saturday couldn't explain its sudden appearance.

"How... how did...".

Cary ignored the jaguar and continued down the line as Saturday and Monday exchanged glances again. Friday, on the floor, whimpered as Cary took turns pointing at the various other males.

"Thursday," he said, grinning at the imposing and bulky stallion, a palomino who kept his long white mane pulled up in short bunches down his broad neck. He was overweight, causing his belly to hang out over his belt and stretch his shirt and leather vest.

"Tuesday," he said to a slouching short-haired bobcat, and "Wednesday" to the similarly sized dragon next to him. The dragon and bobcat glanced at each other, not sure what the significance of the days were. The dragon was a little taller than the bobcat, just over six feet, though he had a large chest and wide stomach, causing him to look larger. A dense, shifting coat of tiny hexagonal scales rippled across his body, dark green on the back and sides fading to a pale emerald blonde across his torso, under his jaw, and around his eyes. The bobcat, Tuesday, wore the same leather jacket as Wednesday featuring the logo and slogan of their biker club. His mangled ears barely resembled ears at all, having been bitten, cut, and scraped across pavement one too many times.

"And you," the panther said, eyes lighting up as he took in the full, heavy figure of the last remaining patron, an enormously thick grayish-brown hippo, "are Sunday."

The seven exchanged confused looks. They weren't used to such casual disregard for their menacing appearances and violent behavior. They were the hardcore regulars at the bar, though, and they nodded at each other as the panther leaned back against the bar, elbow sliding across his ownership documents.

"Sorry, runt," Sunday said, his baritone voice booming out as he leaned forward, broad head and large buck teeth hovering inches from the feline, who kept the bear down on his knees with his fingertip grip on the big male's wrist. "Only thing leaving here is gonna be you. In a body bag, if you ain't careful."

"Oh, Sunday... such a charmer. The customers are going to love you."

The black bear fell backwards, wrist pulling easily out of the panther's grasp as though he weren't holding the male at all. The bear's backside tensed as he flopped across the brand new, spotless hardwood floor. He clutched at his chest, gasping for air, wheezing as the black panther's tail stroked across his open muzzle.

"Oh, shush, it's not that bad," Cary purred over his shoulder, a knowing smirk on his plump muzzle.

The panther stalked forward, straight towards the hippo. Behind him, the stools bolted into the floor changed from old to new as though they'd always been that way. The crumbling, torn, faded red leather seats were gone, replaced by smooth and perfect black leather. Fresh chrome coated the previously dented and dirty posts supporting the stools. They glinted in the soft, pleasant light provided by new fixtures that appeared in the ceiling overhead. A steady, driving, rhythmic dance song crackled to life as bass-heavy speakers boomed from their places set into the walls around the club.

The palomino looked around, eyes wide as he realized the bar was changing by the moment.

"What the fu-"

"Shhhh," the panther purred, reaching out to stroke a claw down the large black t-shirt stretching across the stallion's burly gut. "Such language won't do for my servers."

"Servers? This cat is fuckin' bonkers," Sunday said, a note of fear rising in his otherwise low voice. "I'm out, fellas. This is too fuckin' stra... stra... straaaaaaannnnnggggeee!"

The hippo's heavy body collapsed with a thud, poleaxed. His chest rose and fell as his belly jiggled, wheezing and gasping the same as the black bear, who by now was panting furiously and rubbing at his belly and crotch. Friday's claws dug into his deep fur as the texture of the thick hairs softened, melting together as though he spent half the day conditioning. The biker's head lifted as he stared at his pelt, eyes wide, red tongue hanging over the side of his cream-colored snout.

"Holy shi-"

Cut off in mid-word, the bear's hips jerked upwards of their own accord as Friday's arousal kicked in, spiking his spine and tethering the male's brain directly to his needy and lustful cock. His muzzle clamped shut as he tensed, huge body shuddering and tensing as the intense sensations spread through his body.

"Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday!" Cary said, his voice taking on a gleeful tone as he shoved each of the named bikers and truckers in turn. A steady rhythm of heavy thuds as bodies dropped on the floor around him echoed in time to the pulsing dance music. Cary's hips swung as he danced, playfully stepping around the gasping, burly males around him with dainty movements. His tail kept busy, teasing a muzzle here or poking at a belly there, and sometimes even caressing one of the many nice, thick bulges on display. As the sassy spotted jaguar's muscular shoulders rolled across the new hardwood floor, Cary purred and turned around, once more focusing his attention on the bar.

The panther's plump bottom twitched side to side, opposite his tail, as he sauntered back up to the counter. It too, had changed, and was no longer a scratched and marred piece of wood, but a gleaming and smooth chunk of white granite stretching from one wall to the other, with a small gap for a walkthrough at the corner. The space behind the bar was different too. Gone were the racks of chipped and cracked dirty glasses. Instead, rows of gleaming new wares sat in shelves in front of giant mirrors. Tall shelves stretched towards the ceiling, full of unique and expensive liquors from around the world. The only thing behind the bar that hadn't changed was Spud. The ram stared around in awe, a dirty rag still pinched between his fingers, a chipped glass in the other.

"Wow," was all the ram could say as Cary hefted his broad hips up onto the stool and leaned forward, smiling sweetly.

"Vodka cranberry, please," the black-furred twink said, dark red tongue slipping out to wet his lips as he stared at the ram with a fire in his eyes.

"Co-coming right up, sir!" the ram said, eyes blinking rapidly as he stooped down to open the fridge beneath the bar.

A different Spud stood back up in his place. Or at least, different to Cary. The panther smiled wide as he leaned forward, resting his chin on his paws as the chorus of wheezing, gasping moans echoed up around him from the seven former patrons. He looked his handiwork over and nodded happily, while Spud just giggled as he poured a perfect amount of top-shelf vodka over ice in a shaker, added vodka and a twist of lemon, then poured it for the panther without spilling a drop.

"What do you think of the improvements around here, Spud?" Cary asked, his voice a teasing purr as the ram slid the glass towards him.

"Uh... very good, sir."

Cary studied the dramatically changed ram as he lifted the glass to his lips, savoring the crisp bite of the alcohol as a familiar need stirred between his thighs. Cary liked the results. The ram's horns were just as large as before, but glinted in the light, almost glittering as though sparkling flecks of gold and silver resided inside the enamel. His chest was bare, showing off the narrow, flat belly and fuzzy, smooch chest. A pair of tight, dark red booty shorts hugged the ram's hips, squeezing his thick, pert rump cheeks together beneath the flicking wisp of a tail. In the front, a cute little maleness bulged outwards, outlined perfectly by the too-tight shorts. Across the back, in big white letters to stand out from the red fabric, were the words "Princess Club" on top of each other in a frilly cursive. His most striking feature, however, was the naturally curly, fully-restored, excellently-styled bush of white hair now spread out and around the ram's head, covering his eyes and surrounding much of his horns and all of his neck. The impressively thick and plush-looking wool didn't seem to interfere with Spud's vision based on how he handled the drink shaker.

"Much improved, Spud."

The ram's hooves tapped across the floor as he giggled at the praise. The broad ruffles of deep white fluff surrounding his head and large, curly horns wiggled as he blushed before looking away and finding something else to focus on - a pile of glasses in need of polishing despite being brand new. The panther took another sip of the vodka drink before setting it back down and spinning around, eyes closed.

"Mmmh... almost ready," he purred, cracking open an eye to glance at Sunday, whose enormous bulk jiggled side to side as he tried to resist the feline's invading mind. "Oh, another feisty one... that's it..."

The panther, eyes half-lidded, slid like water from the stool and stalked around the prostrate black bear and gray rabbit towards the hippo. The feline leaned forward, both paws stretching out, claws teasing into the black shirt stretching across the hippo's gut. Cary leaned forward, sliding his palms up until he had the hippo's pecs in his paws. His hips squeezed down, pressing himself warmly into the plush and yielding skin of the overweight male.

"Yes, fight me," Cary groaned. A wet spot formed on the front of his dark shorts as he rolled his thing hips forward, grinding himself eagerly into the hippo. "Fight me... resist me... yessss..."

The panther's voice ended in a devilish hiss, followed moments later by the hippo's body going rigid. The panther's slim belly squeezed forward tighter as he moaned, hard and fast, panting as he took his time with the burly male's mind, taking it apart piece by piece, each element redesigned and rearranged for the panther's own pleasure. Sunday's groans bellowed out as the panther triggered a few idle bursts of pleasure and grinned as he felt the warm, heavy length of maleness squeeze back against his thighs.

"Oh, I love it when you struggle," Cary whispered, pressing his muzzle against the side of the huge hippo's head, under the flicking, round-tipped ears. "It only makes claiming you all the sweeter..."

The hippo's eyes opened, blank and unseeing. His cock lurched in his jeans, throbbing, a growing wet spot signalling the big male's arousal with a few wet splurts. Cary shuddered as he forced his way deeper, fighting through the hippo's spiraling emotions and memories until he found what he was after.

"Got you!" he gasped. Cary's teeth clamped around the hippo's sensitive ear as the muscular, hefty male cried out, his baritone groan drawing little attention from the other six stricken males.

Sunday's cock pulsed, erupting in his dirty jeans, causing a thick trickle of white seed to flood down between his musky balls. The panther's teeth clutched at his ear, tugging on it painfully, but it only made him whine all the more as he came and came, an unrelenting stretch of orgasmic bliss. Cary rode the way, clawing at his new toy, using the bliss to eradicate what was left of his prey's vulnerable mind.

Between Cary's thighs, his dark red arousal throbbed, hard and impatient as it stretched against the fabric, outlined in full from tip to base. The thick cock was too big for the slim bellied feline as it hardened and grew, pushing in an arc as the tip caught the hem of the right leg, lewdly distending as the fat balls accompanying the package pushed the other way. It fattened further, thicker and thicker, until it wider than his own wrist, rivaling the size of the hippo's bulge despite their massive difference in height and weight.

"Mmnnh... that's it, Saturday... be a good boy..."

The hippo's eyes snapped open and locked onto the black panther's. The skinny, small feline held the much larger and physically stronger male completely in his grasp, a smug look of satisfaction on the black panther's devilish muzzle. He sat up and stretched, squirming and squeezing his knees around the broad bulk of the hippo's large stomach, but he kept his gaze on Sunday's the whole time. It was quick to happen, now that he was in control, and Cary didn't waste time. The low grunts and groans changed pitch in an instant.

The hippo didn't shrink all that much in terms of height, but lost a substantial portion of his heavy gut. He wasn't exactly slender, but more of the plump-all-over type. Cary shivered as he felt his sac squeeze into the yielding, smooth belly of the moaning hippo twink wriggling between his thighs. Reaching out, the feline sunk his paws into the hippo's chest, making Sunday gasp and cry out even louder.

"Oh, Cary! Yes!"

Nothing remained of the masculine biker. The shivering femboy's broad backside quivered against the floor as the feline's thickness stretched up his smooth chest and throbbed between his puffy pecs, both currently occupied in Cary's paws. His skin stretched around his plump belly and tush, firm enough to spring back against the black feline, but still supple and yielding. A few shoves and the thrusts later, the hippo's large jaw dripped with rich, musky seed. The slim black panther's thickness delivered one fat spurt after another as he thrust himself against the pudgy, wriggling hippo's soft and smooth chest. Cary enjoyed himself as he shifted his hips, dragging and squeezing his growing sac along the hippo's belly until he heard a yelp from another new member of his waitstaff.

Turning his head, Cary's eyes narrowed on the black bear. He stood up with a smooth and easy motion, as though he weren't hauling a massive sac with bowling ball-sized nuts draping down to his knees. The last remaining evidence of the hippo's former self sloshed in Cary's testicles as he stepped over the dragon and the bobcat to get back to the bear, leaving the blubbery, jiggling hippo to writhe on the floor, both paws wrapped around his plump, fat cock until he could sate his lust.

Friday didn't see them - they dropped across his long snout too quickly - but he smelled them. The powerful, massive ballsac draped over his face, grinding against his nose and lips. The back of his head squeezed into the floor as they shifted side to side, up and down, dragged across his face thanks to Cary's swinging hips. The black panther's taut rump clenched as he stroked his fat arousal with both hands, thrusting into his paws to get his orbs smacking and dragging over the black bear's muzzle. His cock was big, but nowhere near a match for his sloshing, musk-filled balls, though how he could keep his balance with either was a mystery. Cary smiled, moaning, enjoying the feeling of the fuzzy face desperately wriggling and huffing and licking his balls. He kept stroking himself, but was careful not to push too far - the final seal required something special.

The panther dropped to his knees, though they failed to reach the floor, instead pushing into the sides of his swollen testicles, forcing them down into the black bear's snout, smothering him with musk and fur and the overwhelming, blinding carnal lust that made Cary's task all the easier.

"Oh, yes, Friday," the panther growled. His shoulders arched back along with his head as he leaned forward. Dark fingers sank into equally dark fur and flesh, dimpling the smooth, roiling spheres. The panther moaned, crooning, as he massaged his musk-dripping nuts around the black bear's entire head.

The desperate wriggling and pawing continued, but the feeling and power behind it changed considerably. Cary's tongue stretched out of his muzzle as he whipped his tail side to side above his plump, thick rump cheeks, crouching and squeezing into his massively engorged nuts as they sloshed noisily around the black bear's head. When the panther dragged them away a few minutes later, the bear was unrecognizable.

A corset squeezed the male's belly down, amplifying the hourglass shape of his formerly burly, muscular body. The large potbelly was gone, replaced with smooth and supple velveteen fur. Between his legs, a short, thick maleness draped out of a pair of panties so small they barely cupped the ursine's egg-sized sac. His shapely legs and flaring hips feminized him further, and he groaned as he stretched his muzzle upwards, plump lips pursing as he pressed his greedy nostrils back into the panther's sac.

Cary turned his devilish attention next to the dark green dragon and the muscular, short bobcat. The black panther's firm bubble butt flexed as he crouched down, letting his huge sac flatten across the floor between his bent knees.

"Come and have a taste, boys," he purred, motioning for the dragon and the bobcat to approach.

One by one, Cary took his time with each of the groaning, aroused, shuddering males, infecting each of them with a deep and insatiable love for his musk and the taste of his cock. Displaying indomitable stamina, Cary enjoyed himself as he grew and hardened, getting more muscular, more hung, more powerful with each and every drained femboy twink panting on the floor beneath him. The black panther's white fangs shone as he hilted the gray rabbit next, listening to the exotic squealing echoing through the bar while Spud watched on with a jealous expression.

It wasn't until all seven were bimbofied, twinked up and tuned out, nought but bubbly rumps and thick dicks and cocksucking lips, no hints of their former burly and masculine natures, that Cary was satisfied. The black panther's smooth and hard belly rippled with an obvious, deep cut ten pack. His pecs twitched, hard and firm, while a massive cock sprouted from his hips. It was thicker than his arm and stretched to his chest. Cary's broad stance allowed his pendulous testicles to swing freely, hanging down nearly to the floor from his skinny hips. His plump rump cheeks ballooned outwards beneath the overly thick and fluffy black rope-like tail twitching above. The feline's hips swung as he strutted through the bar, daintily stepping over the moaning, spurting femboys rolling around in so much thick seed until they stunk of Cary's musk.

The black panther resumed his seat at the bar and purred at the ram. A long claw tapped at the edge of his glass, signalling for a refill. His tail swung behind him, occasionally brushing up against and caressing one or another of his first seven employees.

"Hmm... The Candy Factory... I think I like the sound of that," the panther said, fangs glinting in the bar light.

CONTINUED IN...

THE CANDY FACTORY

A QUEST INTERACTIVE FICTION GAME