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Caleb is © FloofNinja, all others © SiberDrac 2021

"Try it on me. It works."

"You got ripped off, dude. Told you those shops are shitty."

"Naw, this is the real deal! I tested it. Just try it."

"Ugh. Fine."

"Go easy..."

"... Oh. Oh that feels good..."

Caleb's voice simmered down into a guttural purr as he grew. In a few seconds, he could already feel his shoulders tightening against his shirt sleeves. His roommate and teammate shook him off and grinned. "Alright, now give it back."

"Yeah. Yeah, right. How do we go back to normal?"

"You just put them together." The two anthropomorphic sabertooth tigers each extended a gloved hand. The reversible, fingerless gloves looked like ordinary, black weightlifting gloves with a little iridescent decorative stripe on each knuckle. When they touched, the iridescence produced light of its own and the two roommates each shifted back to their original sizes.

"Holy..." Caleb looked down at the glove on his hand. At six-foot-eight and brimming with the athleticism due a running back, Caleb would have looked huge next to most other anthro people, but you wouldn't know it looking at the two of them together. His friend Van was a touch shorter, maybe half an inch or so. Both had the coarse, tawny fur of their ancestry and the twin teeth that gave them their names. "Wait, so who made these? Why?"

"I dunno, couples stuff? I think they're for like, size play sex."

"Seems dangerous." Caleb smirked, though. He'd worked hard, growing up, to get huge. He still worked hard every day to get huger. A cheat that didn't require a needle and turning your nuts into raisins? Sign me up.

"Hell yeah. Wanna go see how dangerous? Test these at the gym?"

"You bet your ass."

"Hmmm..." Van rubbed his chin with his fingers impishly. "How about you bet your ass, but actually?"

"Huh?"

"Whoever gets biggest, the other's gotta bottom for him. Game on?"

"Hope you bought a whole bucket of lube." Caleb snarled through a predatory grin. "Game fuckin' on."

--

The two made it to their campus gym (The Anthropo-scene) around nine at night, when they knew the main weightlifting room would only have the novice nerds and introverts so they wouldn't cause a ruckus. They wore the loosest clothing they could find - Caleb in gray sweatpants and a red tank top and his buddy Van in purple athletic shorts down past his knees and a zip-up hoodie that read "BITE ME" in jagged graffiti script. They'd grabbed their own grip gloves, too, to look less like pop stars in the weight room, and slipped those on after checking in with a bored security guard.

The building as a whole sprawled its way through a wide open floor plan that had clearly evolved through additions as new generations of students brought new needs. Caleb usually didn't pay much attention to other acolytes at the temple, but today, he couldn't stop himself. With the glove in hand, everyone was potential gains. He rolled his broad, cannonball shoulders through a pleasant ripple of sensation as he recalled even those few moments of it from earlier in the day.

First, though, the two made their way across the various floors to a back corner, where a door with a keypad led to the athletic teams' personal training area. This was where the most expensive equipment was jealously hoarded, where the most raucous roars of effort sounded, and where the omnipresent musk was seen as part and parcel of piety to the gods of gains. And thus, where they were most likely to find a proper helping of meat.

Through the doors and into bright lighting and thudding gangster rap, then. Van immediately nudged Caleb in the ribs and pointed. Only two other people were there with them, which by itself was perfect for what they'd planned to do, but there was more to it: these two were the captain and quarterback of their team. The captain, a black bull named Barricade (Barry for short) was finishing up a set of squats and bellowing while he did. Barricade was, besides his effortful lowing, a quiet giant. A thin sheen of sweat coated his bared, protruding pectorals and barrel of an abdomen. His chest was almost comically large, but there was no laughing at his enormous horns and dark, deep-set eyes. He was captain because of that very unsettling quietude and the fact that underneath was both a calculating, strategic mind and a colossal rage that sent opponents literally flying through the air when he had a chance to charge. Or, teammates who got too rowdy, and with Van's smarmy attitude, he'd messed with the bull and gotten the horns enough times that these days, there was a constant tension between the two of them. He gave the pair of cats a gaze that said he didn't want any shit from them, locked eyes with Van for a brief moment, snorted out hot air, and started putting away weight plates.

A few feet away on a bench lay the quarterback, an enormous blond Clydesdale horse name of Theo. Normally, no one needed an eight-foot-one behemoth of an equine to be quarterback, but if you never needed to shoot a pass because you could mow down the defensive tackles yourself, then you got to be an eight-foot-one quarterback. With thighs like two rowans galvanized and an ass to match, Theo could and would run it any chance he got and saw himself as a gracious hero for doing so. Some of the younger crowd and folk outside the team fawned over him, but Caleb had seen the way he tread on people he saw as his lessers turn cruel again and again, and personally only wanted to see the stallion gelded and put to pasture. He looked up, too, as Caleb and Van stepped in.

The sight of them sparked a twinge of envy. Sabers were big, but the ungulates were titans. No one else forced the world to crane their necks just to have a conversation like these two. Even growing up, Caleb had known it was impossible for him to outgrow his genetics, but he'd wanted to, and badly. Today. Today, he'd do it. He felt his pulse quicken and a thrill of excitement dissolve the envy and spite.

"Perfect timing, boys," Theo called out. "Get over here and spot me." The specialized bar made to support the weights people his size could lift gleamed between plates Caleb quickly added up to six hundred pounds. An amount he couldn't dream of benching. Well. Until today. Caleb and Van exchanged a wink and a nod.

"I gotcha, hoss," Caleb answered as he started moving over.

"I meant both of you kitty cats. I trust just one of you on this, I'll fuckin' die."

And that was why Caleb didn't get along with upper management. Theo took his own name to heart and treated the gym so many people called a temple like it had been built in his honor. It would feel good, to take a god down a peg. Or ten.

"I'm hittin' the showers," Barry huffed out. "Enjoy your threesome, lads." No one talked normal in here.

Van growled under the heavy vibrations of the blasting music and joined Caleb as the bull stripped off a soggy workout shirt and disappeared into the showers. The two cats took up positions flanking their quarterback as he settled into position.

"You boys better be fuckin' ready."

"We've done it before; get your rocks off already so we can get started," Van shot back.

Caleb hated this bullshit. He had more respect for the stick-thin math majors curling fivers than he did for four hundred pounds of pure asshole. He looked down at Theo with a smile, though. That tiny spark of thrill he'd felt was growing into outright glee with each asinine thing Theo said. "Your grip's off, hoss." He used his gloved right hand to slide the Clydesdale's own hand half an inch farther out from center. He watched a brief look of confusion go over Theo's face as a wave of sudden weakness rippled through his body. It wasn't enough to change much, but it was enough to feel.

"Good man," Theo snorted through flaring nostrils. He huffed in and out a few breaths to prep for the lift and then, "One. Two. THREE." Veins throbbed across triceps and forearms. The bar came up over the rests and lowered down to a chest with pecs broader than either of the cats' faces. It paused just briefly and another look of concern flashed over the horse's face. He chuffed out air, sucked it back in, then heaved and pressed the bar back up over him. Caleb and Van watched carefully, legs braced, for any wavering. Theo finished the lift, but after holding it at the top for a second, grunted, "Catch it catch it fuck." The cats snatched under the bar and helped Theo ease it back into the rack. He dropped his arms to his sides and sat up, panting for breath in loud equine snorts.

Caleb noticed Van's gaze was riveted on the showers, which could just now be heard turning on. The smaller roommate had always felt like the captain had it out for him even though half the time he got dressed down, he'd earned it. Still, he tended to get the short end of the stick more than his attitude warranted. More than that, Barry had pressed their coach hard to keep Van second-string well after he by rights should have been starting each game. Right now, Van was practically drooling with his fantasy about what he'd do with the bull. So, in an effort to give Van an opening to start the hunt, Caleb gave Theo a friendly slap on the shoulder - with his right hand - and suppressed a pleased growl as he felt another pulse of size go into him.

"Holy shit dude, that was a lift. Lemme spot you for cooldown sets so Van can do his thing."

"Fuckin' hell yeah," Theo responded. "Thought you'd know godhood when you saw it, kitty cat." He shoved himself off the bench and didn't meet either of their eyes. "You finally doing squats today?" He acted like Van wasn't even there. Just started racking weights as he worked his way down to something more manageable to keep the muscles from getting stiff.

"Fuck squats," Caleb smirked.

"That's why you get flattened by dogs. Our games are the only place people can come watch an apex pred lose to a lapdog."

While Caleb bit back a snarl, Van made himself scarce by grabbing a jump rope to pretend he was warming up. Caleb and the quarterback finished cinching the safety pins back in place and Caleb took his position standing over Theo's face. The moment the set started, Caleb heard the jumprope stop and looked up to see Van slipping his way into the shower.

Party time.

After the first set, Caleb helped rack the bar with his hands flush next to Theo's. He stifled a purr as, over the course of a few quick seconds of stabilizing the bar, power flowed into him. While Theo caught his breath, the saber looked down at his arms. There was less slack in his pants and around his chest. His shoes felt tight. His bulge stood out faintly against the loose cloth of his sweatpants. In contrast, the horse's bright blue shorts and matching tank top fit a little more loosely.

A loud moan rumbled out of the showers.

"Must be rubbin' one out in there," Theo muttered.

"You jealous? Looking a little distracted with these. Sure you can finish?"

"The fuck did spotting get color commentary?" Theo met his eyes upside-down as he got back into position with a glare. "Shut up and spot or I'll have Barry drop you to second string."

Caleb curled his lip as his brow darkened slightly, but closed his mouth and got ready for the next set. This time, the horse struggled with the weights. He stopped short of his final rep. For the third time, Caleb gripped the bar to help him settle it, but this time, he grabbed under Theo's hands. It was awkward, but the big cat felt that by this point, discretion was no longer advised. Theo snorted and looked up at him, angry confusion in his eyes.

"The fuck're you doing," he sneered. "You'll break my hand, asshole."

"Not like you could ever throw a pass, anyway, jackass," Caleb fired back. He didn't let go. He pulled in a huge breath, feeling his chest expand and a sensation of soaring as Theo's mass poured into him from the prolonged contact. Features swelled all across his body. He felt power surge through his quads and start to push against his pants. The tank top finally began growing taut against his torso. His strong, predatory neck swelled. He felt more masculine. More... everything.

"Watch your mouth, pussycat." Theo's heart wasn't in it, though. He was starting to feel what was happening to him, even if he didn't comprehend it.

"Watch yours, pony boy," Caleb answered, "'cuz you're right - I should do a couple squats now and then. Check my form?" To demonstrate, he bent his knees and dunked his newly oversized bulge onto the Clydesdale's snout. Theo gave a muffled shout of surprise and Caleb responded by laying his palm flat on the horse's chest to hold him down. "Holy shit," he muttered while he grew. His voice came out lower, deeper, broader. It started to turn him on. He could smell his own musk intensifying and knew it had to be stifling for the man shoving his muzzle around in Caleb's ever-increasing bulge.

He watched the bench and bar and Theo drift steadily away from him as he put on new height, as well. It hadn't been thirty seconds before the two athletes had swapped size completely and Caleb was towering over his prey. He felt his predator instincts brighten the room around him and narrow his focus. This... belonged to him. And they worked fast, but so much sensation filled his body that each second was a glorious wave of growth. Another ten seconds, and he stood easily nine feet tall, with an erection jutting out against and sliding up along his inner thigh that was better suited to the species he was stealing from. He figured this was the point where couples who had bought the gloves would stop and get their groove on, but this hadn't slaked his thirst - it had only primed it. His clothes started pinching against his fur and skin, so he stripped off his tank top while holding the squat, then finally relented and let Theo catch his breath while he peeled off his sweats and kicked off his shoes, as well.

"What the actual fuck, you sicko," Theo whinnied as he sat up. He looked comical in a tent-like workout shirt.

"Might have to rename you, Theo," Caleb said, ignoring him. "What's a word for 'shuts up and gets in line'?" His voice came out in an ever deepening rumble that made Theo flinch and turn his ears back. He picked up the pony under his arms and carried him to a painted brick wall. His broad, feline pads added an extra line to the thudding bass from the speakers. He pinned Theo's left wrist against the wall with his right, and just grinned down at the terror-stricken, smaller man while he and his saber teeth and his perfectly defined nuts and his raging cock grew against the former bully. The volume to mass ratio took its toll soon enough, and when Caleb was cresting ten feet tall, Theo was a puny five. Caleb ripped off his underwear finally to let his previously contained scent pour over the trapped horse and his bare balls roll and churn against Theo's face.

"Maybe something that means 'suckles and serves'," he heard himself say. More. There was more of him. And there could be even more of him after that. He wanted the whole room to smell like him. He took his cock - thick as his thighs used to be and, having gained more than just the horse's mass, hanging to his knees - in his paw and slapped it across Theo's long face. The horse grit his teeth and clenched his eyes. It seemed like he was changing, too. While Caleb's scent of male and depth of voice and dominating demeanor only grew and grew, Theo's whinnies and huffs got higher pitched and steadily lost their willfulness. "Lick it and I'll let you go." The horse kept shrinking. By now, he was being held up against the wall by Caleb's hand. The glove had grown with it - a convenient feature. The other, regular glove had long since been shredded by enormous claws and wrist. "Better do it soon. Not sure how far this thing can go. Might end up putting you on a shelf at a toy store."

All of Theo's egomania leeched out of him in an instant at the thought. The previously boorish, arrogant, overbearing, asinine quarterback lapped the presented cock like a man in a desert looking for water. Caleb groaned in pleasure and flexed, to send a thick glob of precum dripping across Theo's muzzle. True to his word, though, the saber released with his gloved hand and used the other to set Theo back on the bench. Theo couldn't keep his clothes from falling off him and gathered them around him in a piteous heap.

They stared at one another. Well. They both stared at Caleb. His gaze swept over his new body. He tensed each muscle in turn to watch them flare and see the dense vasculature visible where the fur was thinnest pulse with life and strength. He rolled his shoulder and dragged his tongue along it, down to a swollen mound of biceps, down to clenching, striated digit flexors. The broad hands of his species could each easily clutch Theo's head and pick him up, if he'd wanted to. He clenched each pectoral to watch it swell, crunched his abs different ways to watch them ripple and tighten like a professional bodybuilder, and all the while, his knee-length cock throbbed mightily out in front of him and drooled precum onto the floor. He found a wall mirror to check out his ass and turned his thigh this way and that to observe the way the corded steel slid around with each motion.

"Guess I don't need squats when you can do them for me, huh, Ted?" He widened his eyes as he heard his own voice. Theo thought he was a god? Caleb could have sworn he heard the floor vibrate when he spoke.

"What's happening. This can't be real. M-my name's not Ted."

Caleb wheeled on him. "It's what I say it is!"

"Yessir!" jumped out of the horse's throat before he could even think.

Caleb smiled, all teeth. "Good boy. You stay right there. I've got a bet to collect on." The enormous, nude saber turned his back. He was a mountain of muscle and golden fur. His back was creased with valleys where his new meat bunched and folded beautifully against itself. His growl could be felt under the heavy music still blasting into the room. He ducked into the showers to check on Van's success. Immediately on entering, he felt a blow to the side of his head that sent him off balance. Weight slammed into him to flatten him against a wall. Someone twisted his wrist to pin it efficiently behind his back.

He snarled and writhed, but the joint lock held. He heard under and behind his right ear, "And you said cross-training jujitsu was dumb." A pair of long, smooth fangs pressed against Caleb's shoulder blade. He noticed with a start that the hand holding his wrist was gloved. Immediately, his precious strength started being siphoned from his body.

"You haven't won 'til you've won, Caleb. Lucky I've got your lube right here for you." A hot, throbbing cock pressed up against Caleb's bare ass cheeks. "This makes me horny as fuck." Precum practically shot out of Van's dick to wet the fuzzy, powerful glutes it was about to penetrate. "I'm gonna make you beg me for more, and then I'm gonna take all three of you back as my own little harem. How's that sound?"

Red rage filled Caleb's vision, but he couldn't move. He felt himself sliding against the slick tile walls of the room as he shrank. If it had been a row of lockers, he was sure he could have just thrown it over and freed himself. His left hand was caught in the vise of Van's grip and his right was locked so that any movement made his shoulder scream with pain. It didn't feel like he was just shrinking, though. It felt like he was flowing into his roommate. What he was, what he had just taken, was now being taken from him. "Fuck you, Van, let go of me."

The storm of arousal and primal rage made it come out as a garbled snarl and Van's only response was to push his ever-growing cock more firmly against Caleb's ass and start hot-dogging the muscular mounds. Precum dripped along them, making the way slick as the massive dong radiated heat and gradually thickened against his cheeks. Low-hanging nuts stolen from Barry rocked against the backs of his thighs. Caleb couldn't deny that he was turned on by the growing, hulking cat behind him, but he also had exactly one priority: winning.

Once they were two feet different in height, Van pushed forward harder, pinning the smaller saber against the wall with his body weight as he transferred the locked hand over to his left. Van rumbled, "Y'know these seem to take features, too? I've got some heavy nuts from Barry. Bet you've got one hell of a horse cock from Theo. And these..." He reached up the gloved hand to Caleb's near fang and grabbed around it. "I'd use it as an anchor to fuck you, but I'd rather see you looking like a kitten when you start mewling."

Caleb slurred through his caught jaw, "That's two good ideas from a dumb motherfucker."

"Huh?"

Caleb acted instantly. He wrenched his head up, then down to hook the fang into Van's glove. The other cat yowled in pain. In the moment of surprise, Caleb shoved mightily off the wall with his left hand, finally gaining some freedom for his right. In trading hands, Van had opted for a shittier grip, so Caleb whipped his head down and turned his body hard. His fang snagged on the glove and yanked it off, then he wrenched his arm free in his roommate's confusion and shoulder-checked him backwards over a bench.

The decision came simply and smoothly. The other glove slipped onto his left hand and through some trickery with how it had been fashioned, fit easily in reverse and quickly changed size to fit snugly. Caleb gave it a fascinated look, but his appreciation was rapidly overwhelmed by his need not just to dominate, but to grind his dominion into the minds of everyone present - permanently. He stalked over to his supine roommate, who was struggling to stand back up in the cramped space, grabbed his leg, and dragged him, caveman-like, out to the floor of the gym. As he went, he felt size flooding back into him from his grip around Van's ankle. He wondered faintly if both of them were being made to feel like they owned everything they saw. The bigger cat - who wouldn't be bigger for long - snarled and roared in protest and dug furrows in the rubber matting of the floor, but the thudding music covered it up for anyone who was still around.

Caleb released the leg and pounced with feline ferocity as Van tried to crawl away. The mass of the two giants slamming onto the ground shook the equipment in the room.

"You're fucking mine."

"Get off! Give it back!"

"Oh nooooo, kitten, no. All of this..." He planted his hands hard on Van's middle back and shoved him to the ground while grinding his once again growing cock into his hips. "All of it belongs to me. You'll see. BARRY," he roared, and the sound was deafening. A small, naked bull, conspicuously dripping with viscous fluid, trotted out of the showers. His cool, collected mien had been replaced by servile obedience. Good. "And Teddy. Time for you all to learn your places. Watch."

Power and glory surged through Caleb's body as he spread out across the floor and rapidly encompassed his teammate with his weight and breadth. "I fuckin' hate cheaters," he snarled. Arousal suffused his brain. His scent was the only one here, the only one that mattered. Precum poured out of him in anticipation and rapidly wet Van's perfectly formed asscheeks. In no time, he was working his cock between those cheeks. "Pucker up or don't; I'm comin' in."

Van's yowl, this time, carried through the entire gym and beyond. Thrusting himself progressively deeper, three, seven, twelve, fifteen inches of glistening, throbbing cat cock rammed between Van's cheeks, and he didn't stop at halfway. He felt something change in the gloves, felt something change in the texture of the ass he was pounding, and the last vestige of anything like concern slipped away. He started to piston well over two feet of hybride horse and cat cock in and out like a machine. "What do you think? How far do you think this goes? Should I make you into a wearable?" Caleb grunted through the intoxicating haze of triumph, of being the best, the biggest, the_winner._

To his immeasurably pleasant surprise, he heard in response, "Breed me," whimpered out of Van's mouth. His indomitable will and size had already embedded itself in Van's brain. And so, breed he did. As promised, he snagged each of the saber teeth as handles and reared up over his new submissive. With each thrust, he could go deeper. With each roll of his hips, his body stretched broader. His swelling nuts had less room to slap against Van's ass, so he widened his stance and bucked in longer strokes. Thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two inches of wrist-thick cock drove a needy whimper out of Van with each driving thrust. The saber teeth in his hands kept shrinking as he kept growing and he felt his own curving and thickening, until his pesky roommate was like a proper house cat. Something about that act of consuming, completely assimilating one of the most precious signs of power on the smaller man sent a fiery pulse through Caleb's system. He pushed Van's head to the floor, sheathed himself to the hilt in hot, needy tiger ass, and came with a deafening roar that drowned out any other sound. He was eleven feet tall. He was still growing, even while he pumped Van's belly full of cum like a burst hydrant. He felt like he was almost propelling himself out of that ass, just to pound back in again and fill it further.

After more than a minute of climactic jerks of hips that could powder cement blocks, he rolled them over. "Y'know what? I can feel... something..."

"Wh, what?" Van mewled. He didn't look like a fierce predator anymore. He was still seven feet tall, but the hunt was leaving his eyes and voice.

"I am going to make you into a toy."

"H, how?"

Caleb was above answering questions from the things he owned. He grasped the smaller male in a seatbelt grip and closed his fangs down over one shoulder like a prison, all so he could watch the form of his incredible cock bulging out Van's belly. It slid under his abdominals and ribs. That feeling again that Van was changing, was somehow being shaped to serve him and pleasure him, swept in again. And with each passing moment, he was wrapped tighter on that cock, and felt hotter. His ribs added an exquisite texture to each stroke against them, yet Van seemed unharmed.

"Look," he ordered Van. He lifted his biceps up in front of his mount. "Whose was this before?"

"M-mine." The rocking thrusts never stopped and Van was forced to stutter as he endured them.

"Wrong." He hooked a finger in Van's mouth and yanked. "It was you, but it's always been mine." He jerked his hips particularly hard as punishment, getting a yowl in return, then leaned back on both hands, confident his cock sleeve wouldn't try to get away from him, and bounced Van on his hips to let gravity do the work. He still watched for minutes, entranced, until the sight and the sensation of the unbelievably tight ass wrapped around his cock crested the threshold to orgasm and he erupted again into his roommate, flooding him and spilling out of his ass over Caleb's balls and onto the floor. The shape of Caleb's cock in that tight abdomen softened under the deluge of cum, but something that size couldn't possibly fully vanish, and still, it slid under his skin, visible with every climactic thrust. Van mewled in excruciating, agonizing lust as he felt himself warmed inside and out, owned, bred, used, defeated.

The victor slowly lowered himself to a seated position. Van looked almost like a toy in his lap and didn't seem like he could sit fully on it. Caleb still wasn't finished. He commanded, "Theo. Barry. Get over here. Worship me."

Overwhelmed by the perfusing scent of imposing masculinity that awoke primal instincts, the diminutive captain and quarterback walked over. He grinned down at the little cat stuck on his cock and grabbed him under his ribs with one hand. "You, too."

By no stretch of the imagination should Van's insides have been intact, but he seemed unfazed. He seemed raptured, even, to be able to serve. Any vestige of resistance had fled. Caleb leaned back on one hand and used the other to use Van as a sleeve. Slowly but in rough, heavy strokes, he worked his roommate up and down his extensive shaft, and his two other subjects put tongues and lips and fingers to his massive nuts. The gloved hand on Van kept shrinking him and letting Caleb grow. He heard the steadily smaller cat gurgle and gag and opened his eyes to watch as, impossibly, the tip of his cock pushed up, then out of Van's throat, to dribble precum over his lips. "Fuck... fuck that's hot."

Van could only nod in blissful agreement while his body became a tool for Caleb's pleasure. The titan of a man accelerated. Whenever he adjusted a foot or hand to change his stance, it thudded in the room and rattled the machines. His growls of pleasure, those feline reverberations renowned for their effortless ability to fill a space, over and over cascaded through the room. There was a throbbing maelstrom of need. His dutiful worshippers fulfilled it while he shrank Van down to the same four-foot size as the others, then more, until he was a toy who couldn't contain all of Caleb's manhood at once. Caleb gorged himself to just barely topping twelve feet. Twelve feet of him. Twelve feet of muscle, of man, of virile, essential might. He reveled in the tongues bathing him just as he was due, and finally, volcanically, threw himself off the edge of orgasm, gripping his cock through Van with both hands to force the small cat's jaws to gape open around it, then pushed on his back to aim it at each of the other men in turn. The blasts of gyzym sent them stumbling back, only to crawl forward again to drink the thick, creamy spunk that coated them each through and through. It sprayed out across equipment and matting. It drenched Van's chest as his tongue lolled out desperate to taste it, to experience it, to get claimed and have that essence soaked into his fur and his skin and throughout his body. The room was filled with Caleb, coated in Caleb, owned by Caleb.

Eventually... eventually, it did stop. As his mighty cock throbbed in his lap - shaking Van with each throb of his heartbeat - against his left pectoral on its way from ferocious turgidity to manageable half-mast, the serenity of being at the top seeped through his being. Aftershocks of cum flowed over Van's lower jaw to drip messily down his throat and front and drench his now diminutive loins, which themselves looked spent from an orgasm that had been lost in the sea of Caleb's.

"Y'know... you made me do this," he muttered to Van while brainlessly stroking the man who had become a toy. "Coulda just been... normal-ass bet. Some fun and some fuckin'."

"I don't - hic! - mind," Van mewled. He hugged at his chest, which was bloated with the shape and size of Caleb's shaft. He'd been fully transformed from an apex predator to an obsequious, domestic cat, living only to serve his master.

"Clean me up, then clean this up." They nodded. The master stood. His subjects followed. With a pleased grunt, he pulled Van off of him and stooped to enter the showers. His pets followed. He sat. They turned on the streams, lathered him, and bathed him. Exactly as they should.

Before leaving, he ordered Theo to stand by the bench where he'd spotted minutes earlier while the other two found mops and rags to awkwardly start cleaning up the flood of cum Caleb had left. He stacked the bar up to the exact immense weight that Theo had nearly lost control of. For so long, he'd felt like he would never perform at such a level, never exist at such a level as to do that one-rep max Theo had powered through.

He laid back,

gripped the bar,

and without effort, pumped his way through a set of fifteen. Once done, he sat up and set his eyes on the tiny horse. Theo averted his gaze as his ears flushed deep red. Caleb felt as though he hadn't made his point. He stood up, walked behind the bar, drew in an enormous breath, and arms like living engine blocks throbbed with effort as he flexed the bar up to his chest once, twice, three times, before setting it down. That felt like power.

Caleb considered himself largely sane, kind, and generous, but a point needed to be made. He had Van, Theo, and Barry escort his magnificently nude, awe-inspiring self from the gym back to the dorms, under the gaze of any they happened across. They carried his clothes. He wore only his gloves. He smiled, untouchable, unassailable. He stretched wide as he walked. He let out a casual roar that bounced across campus walls. Maybe he'd return this power. Maybe not. It didn't matter, though.

Right now, he was king.