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An anthropomorphic bull named Panic stared up at the proprietor of the occult shop he'd entered. In a deep, suspicious baritone, he asked, "If I come back in a week and say this worked and you tell me, 'The confidence was inside you the whole time!' like on TV, I'll expand on your understanding of 'like a bull in a china shop.'"

The shopkeeper, a purple-eyed ermine man, opened his paws in a mollifying gesture. "I've always heard that bulls can be delicate creatures. The saying is simply about someone with a huge presence moving carefully." His eyes flashed impishly. "Especially around things they don't understand."

Panic snorted. He was very short and very small for a bull, which it seemed no one ever tired of reminding him. In fact, it was why he was here: with a significant other who could do biceps curls with his entire body and had a dominant streak a mile wide, Panic found himself desperately moaning on the receiving end of their sexual encounters a solid one hundred percent of the time. The petite bull didn't mind - not quite - because it was an immutable pleasure to be bloated with cat cum all night and all day. But, that significant other had a birthday tomorrow, and Panic figured if he couldn't physically heft his boyfriend, he'd at least get the mental boost to maybe order him around a bit. Booze didn't seem reliable, psychedelics freaked him out, and he'd seen too many episodes of doctor dramas where someone died of a heart attack from those RED ZONE ALL MALE TESTOSTERONE MEGA DICK pills to even consider them as an option. Besides, most of them were snake oil, anyway. Every review of the Lily Boutique, though, had sworn its products were legit, so here he was, buying an amulet on a simple, fine leather chain, made of wood carved in the shape of a mustard seed. The placard beneath it read, 'Be the bigger man.' It promised to make one feel calm and in control no matter the situation.

Even the idea of it was starting to get him excited. He felt a stirring in his loins. Panic bobbed on his toes a couple times, huffed out another hot breath through his wide nostrils, and said, "I'll take it."

"There are of course limitatio-"

"Gimme the big balls charm. I've got a boyfriend to fuck." He huffed it out quickly. This place gave him the heebie-jeebies and he was way out of his element.

He handed over the cash, took the amulet, and headed home. He shared a small, two-bedroom house with his boyfriend, Caleb. When he walked in, Caleb was sprawled on the couch in just his underwear, gaming. The couch had been extremely expensive, because it had to fit the sabertooth tiger currently occupying it: eight-foot-four and four hundred-eighty pounds, Caleb was a powerfully intimidating figure to behold. Shirtless, his muscle-packed chest and enormous abdominals were on full display. They flexed whenever he flashed his long fangs and yowled in frustration at whomever was on his headset. Panic just watched for a while before Caleb noticed him. He could feel his heart rate shoot upward and his pants get tight just on seeing the man, especially the way Caleb had to "dress left," so his bulbous sheath was pressed along one thigh behind the neon green briefs, while coconuts shoved out against his pouch.

The bull clasped his new necklace behind his neck and hid it under his shirt. What he would give to be able to stuff trunks that big to their limit. Panic was no slouch when it came to physique, himself: His broad chest pushed against a tight tee shirt, and the famously thick thighs of a bull kept his shorts pleasantly stretched so that they hugged up against a perfectly rounded, muscular ass. But he was small fry compared to the man he loved. Maybe tomorrow night...

"Hey, hon, I'm home!" Panic called out to be heard.

Caleb's response was a lazy turn of his head and huge grin. "Hey there, short stack. You're back late - what kept you?"

"Oh, uh." Panic, well, panicked. "Shopping, for... snacks. For tomorrow."

"Oooo whatdja get? Its gonna be wild. Half the freakin' team's coming. Gonna run out my whole stipend on it," he laughed. Then, something flashed on the screen and he roared into the headset, "I said watch my back you two-faced yellow-bellied pile of ropes."

"I, uh... I just forgot something! I'll be right back!" It was an easy escape. Panic slipped out with the sudden distraction. Necklace wasn't doing a damn thing! He had half a mind to give a piece of his mind to that long rat who'd sold him the necklace, but the other half of his mind knew he needed the entirety of his mind to prep for the birthday party, so. That one won out.

--

The next day, the party was a smashing success before it even started. Panic had curated a movie playlist for upstairs, while downstairs, Caleb had a stack of multiplayer video games to run through, including such hits as Super Slash Brothers: Mall, Call of Cutie, HaloooOOOooo, and Knight Forts. Plates of food were set out, Panic had grilled up some black bean burgers, and wine and beer flowed freely.

Parties like this were a kind of heaven and hell situation for Panic. Everyone was bigger than he was. Prime cuts of masculinity were on display in every direction, and for the majority of them, his face was at chest level or lower. Theodore, the quarterback, was a Clydesdale nearly as tall as Caleb. Barricade, the captain, was a black bull as wide as a barn door. Some past squabble had made both of them look up to Caleb with the same fawning adoration all the running backs and tackles looked up to them. And, given that hierarchy, Caleb was at all times the center of attention. The mountain of feline physicality was throwing jokes, getting in loud, melodramatic arguments claiming people cheated when they beat him in games, and occasionally physically ejecting them onto the lawn simply because he could... and then immediately making sure they were okay and escorting them back inside with a slap on the back. To Panic's delight, the team was comfortable with a level of homoeroticism that meant there was a lot of "gay chicken," which Caleb obviously always won, and often ended with him sweeping Panic easily up into his arms for an open kiss. The showmanship embarrassed him, but he doused himself in it nonetheless, because it showed everyone whose he was. He loved being held against those mounded pectorals and feeling them squeeze against his body, being surrounded by hard, hot, affectionate muscle, being caught up in his reassuring scent... and tonight, thinking about how he might rival all of it. If the damn amulet worked.

It wasn't that Panic wasn't a people person. He opened up exuberantly whenever someone spoke to him about his interests: movies, TV, Caleb, food, cooking, sex, Caleb again, all of the above. But, he just didn't have that extroversion that his boyfriend did. He was happy to serve drinks, replace snacks, clean up dropped snack bags or cups, and generally be joyfully, quietly domestic while Caleb held the spotlight. He toyed with the amulet a few times during all this. He wasn't sure whether it was doing anything, but when he thought about it in a quiet moment... huh. He wasn't sure whether he'd ever so freely been that publicly romantic with Caleb before. The cat had zero qualms about their relationship, but Panic was often so anxious - about everything, really - that he found it hard to express the way he felt. But tonight? Tonight he realized he didn't mind.

With a smile on his face, he went to bring out a fresh six-pack to the upstairs crowd. On the last step, he tripped and gasped, started to go down, and suddenly found himself braced by two strong arms from one of the team: a capybara named Nathan. "Hey, watch your step, big guy," Nathan chuckled as he patted Panic's arm to release him and walk by.

"Psh, 'big guy,'" Panic snorted. Nathan was the closest to Panic in height on the team, so he had to be aware of Panic's stature. The giant rodent cocked his head, though, with a placidly perplexed expression. Those huge, black eyes the species had were hard to read. The two stared at one another for a few seconds. Panic started to feel embarrassed, so he coughed out his thanks and headed into the guest bedroom, where Badfellows was playing. He leaned across a much more normal-sized couch to hand out bottles, then overbalanced against the couch's arm and started to topple forward.

Again, hands easily caught him, and there was a round of snickering. The bull huffed, then seized his recent confidence and sprawled out over the laps of three guys to pretend he'd meant to do it. They poked and prodded him until he dismounted. When he did, he caught himself in an easy one-handed plank with the sixpack held up in the other. The trio playfully moved to put their feet up on him like a foot rest, and at first, he didn't react. He was looking at his triceps. They felt tight against his shirt. Painfully tight. Had it shrunk in the wash?

Be the bigger man.

Panic eventually shrugged them all off and stood up, causing a moment of awkwardness with his quietude. On his way out of the room, at the top of the stairs, he met Nathan on his way up again. The capybara tilted his head the other way, this time.

"What's up?" Panic asked.

"Nothing, I, uh." He broke into a charming smile, and said with his soft but encouraging voice, "You look good, dude. Putting in extra workouts?"

"No, just... eating well, I guess."

"Damn! Power of meeting your macros." Those big, dark eyes blinked slowly. "Hell yeah, dude. Keep it up."

"Hah, thanks."

Be the bigger man.

Panic furrowed his brow as Nathan went past. The big rodent hitched his shorts up on the way. "Dang things keep falling off," he muttered under his breath. And watching him walk down the hallway, Panic realized he was still looking down, even though the two were on level footing.

It was at that point that Panic became aware of the new weight resting between his pecs. It was heavier than before, but fell higher on his breastbone. He fished out the amulet. The little wooden mustard seed had cracked open and a thin stalk with twin pairs of lobed leaves - still carved from wood - were growing up from it. "Be the bigger man," he mouthed. And then he whispered, "Holy shit."

And then he grinned, and trotted downstairs.

Panic called out for orders for another round of bean burgers and started grilling in their little back yard. It would give him time to think, which was something he was usually happy to forgo. No wonder he was tripping over himself. He was stealing size from these guys. His body was bigger and he wasn't used to moving around in it. He got excited, quickly. He started thinking about what he was going to do with Caleb when the party ended. He didn't even realize how erect he was getting until

"Whoa-ho, Panic, you smuggle a salami in here?" came Barricade's voice suddenly. The comically wide bull closed a sliding back door - having to edge his way carefully through it, given his horns and breadth - and walked over. Barry made Panic feel... weird. The bull talked more around him, and more to him, than he did even to his other teammates. Both of the two of them were typically quiet individuals, but Barry felt some amount of comfort around his fellow bovine and Panic simply didn't know what to do with that comfort. Usually.

"Wha? Barry! Haha, hey there, thought I was alone out here."

"Thinking about tonight?" teased the other bull, with a brazen gesture at Panic's pitched tent.

"Caught red-handed. Well, red-rocketed, I guess." Panic smirked. He liked this. He was joking with the team captain! About dicks! Despite the thrill of it all, in a way he felt so... relaxed. Was this what serotonin felt like? Was this how Caleb and these other huge dudes felt every day?

"Haha, yeah. Hey, can we set up some beer pong out here?"

Panic blinked. Not, "Clear some space; we want to play beer pong." Not, ignoring him and setting up a table for beer pong. But instead, "Can we set up some beer pong?"

Barricade was much, much larger and heavier than Panic. Panic wondered how it would feel to have a little of that. Just a taste. He smiled and slung an arm up and over Barry's shoulders. "For sure. How're the games going?" Barry smelled heavenly. Panic wouldn't say it out loud, but another boon of stuffing that house full of jocks was that the scent of sweat and man - not stench or BO, just of dudes - permeated the place.

Barry answered, "You know Caleb fucking sucks at HaloooOOOooo?" The two bulls were easily the best at correctly pronouncing the chant-like name, and typically made it clarion clear to everyone who couldn't.

"Tch, better than anyone. I think he'd leave me if I ever let him win, 'cuz he'd hate that, but we keep a mega-sized stress ball for him nearby whenever we play."

"Doesn't even know what a needle-feeder gun does."

"Doesn't. Even. Know." While the two chatted, Panic quietly exulted. This time, he could feel the strength transferring into him. It wasn't fast. From where their bodies touched, energy flowed like a heavy gas, simply and effortlessly from the larger man to the smaller. Panic capped it when the strain from his shoulders against his tee shirt got physically painful. It was hard to make himself stop. He had a mental image of Barry's clothes falling off his body as those dozens of pounds of pure, Grade A beef whelmed Panic's body. Of thick, rowan thighs becoming saplings, and Panic's becoming redwoods. Of each head of his quads straining out against his skin, while Barry's shrank into indeterminate, scrawny connective bits. Of his hamstrings making his loose athletic shorts look more like under-sized briefs, and impressing the thick, powerful, corded fibers through flesh and fabric for everyone to see.

With effort, he pulled the plug on the conversation and sent Barry off to get beer pong supplies with an experimental smack on his much diminished ass. The captain jumped, but instead of his normal reaction - tossing someone who tried that like a bale of hay - he just smirked, lifted a casual middle finger, and readjusted the tee shirt that now hung loose around his neck. He didn't notice that he suddenly fit normally back through the sliding door. His body had gone from Olympian to merely your run-of-the-mill professional athlete. Panic reached up a hand to feel at his own horns. Bigger. Heavier. Better. He smiled.

Panic served up his burgers without a shirt on. People commented, but not unfavorably - he was far from the only shirtless guy there. Besides, they thought the amulet was cool as hell. It continued to grow and transform, with the seedling turning into a sapling backed by a rounded frame that was maybe two inches in diameter, though none of them seemed to be putting together why or how or what it meant. And of course, while it evolved, they seemed to rewind time. Broad, heavy, linebacker physiques became swimmer builds. Hulking tackles gradually looked better suited to basketball or soccer. Bears became wolves became otters, to use the common gay parlance.

The rest of the night, it got easier and easier to drain these guys. And the more aware of it he was, the more he wanted to feel it. He got a kick from seeing how everyone's clothing started to hang off them. He'd sit next to someone on a couch for a few moments and stand up two inches taller and swollen with muscle. He'd go in for a bro hug and come out of it stronger and with a fiercer smile than he went in. He watched shoulders deflate before his eyes while he felt his torso musculature swell around a friend. He watched shirts drape lower over previously powerful chests as his became more deeply scored with muscle and burgeoned outward, such that if he brought his arms from hanging down to raised up - perhaps to grab a new glass or some mixer off a high shelf while pretending to stabilize himself on someone - he could watch and feel the regions of his pectorals from low to high ripple as a new layer fleshed itself out, then feel that growth expanding into pectoralis minor, subclavius, serratus anterior - muscles he had only thought about in diagrams, but could now deeply appreciate within his own body.

Before long, he'd snuck upstairs to steal a pair of Caleb's sweats and briefs. The things hung in his arms like a wind sock and a beach towel. But their fit was only slightly loose, with the sweats hanging low on his hips, where before, they would have fallen off him completely. He lowed quietly at his reflection in a standing mirror and went through a few bodybuilder poses he'd seen Caleb do before, bringing out vasculature and accessory muscles he wasn't use to having: obliques rippling under his skin; the biceps a great mound seated over its bigger triceps brother, which even formed a beautiful horseshoe shape when he flexed right. He frowned a little at how loose the briefs still hung on him, but... the frown dissolved into an impish smile as he looked at himself. That just meant he had more work to do. Back downstairs again.

Getting physical was so much easier when he was this confident. A butt pat here, a shoulder grab there, and of course, plenty of loving taps and strokes and brushes and tickles to Caleb. And with each one: a pump of calves so he could feel them spread behind his knees; a creaking groan of his lats as fibers split and grew and split again to support the power and mass of them; a gradual dimpling of the grid-like organization of obliques and serratus muscles; even tightening against the skin of his palms and the tops and bottoms of his feet. He did have one concern, though: Caleb was starting to give his buddies grief over their size differentials. He plopped down next to an unsuspecting pit bull named Terrence and casually puffed out his chest and curled his biceps. "Hey Theo stand over there," he said. The giant Clydesdale went where he was told, where he would only see Caleb in profile. "Hey can you even see Terrence anymore?"

"What do you mean, Terrence?" Theo asked with a shrug. "I haven't seen Terrence, is he even here?"

Caleb laughed. His hulking profile completely masked the other man from the side. "You hear that? He can't even see you, T! Dude you gotta get bulking again or we'll call you Terry the Terrier again." Panic held his breath. Had Caleb really noticed? Or was he just being his usual brash, arrogant self?

"Hey man, eat a dick!"

"Count on it!" He gave Terrence a jovial slap on the back, which dislodged T's tank top strap - one that had always cut deep into broad shoulders - and that made Panic quietly huff out his nostrils with heat and with a sigh of relief. That gap? That had become his. He smirked as he watched the dog pull it back on. Caleb seemed truly none the wiser.

Next, the saber got up and casually hip-checked Theo. "Theo you're lookin' like you've gone rogue at Loki's temple - too much cardio?" Two in a row might be enough to make him notice...

"Caleb!" He looked offended. "You know I worship Brodin like I worship myself. Loki can suck eggs." These were, of course, references to the gym, where those bulking "prayed to br-Odin, God of Gains" and those doing cardio had been led astray by the trickster Loki.

"Do the bounce?"

Feigning any knowledge of disco at all, the two started hip-checking one another in time with the music playing, only for Theo's gigantic frame to get shaken, rattled, and rolled into another player, who barely caught him. Caleb howled his laughter and yanked Theo back in with his arm. Anyone else - anyone else - and Caleb's antics would have been at best foolishness and at worst brutish and mean. But his genuine encouragements and pure charisma made all the constant jockeying click with the room... and it made Panic keep orbiting back in, stealing tastes, sips, gulps of his power with each touch. During one of those moments, the big cat suddenly stopped the entire party with a window-rattling roar. Even with his enhancements, Panic startled with the sound.

"Barricade," he commanded. The bull hopped up from his seat like he was pneumatic.

"Yeah?"

Caleb crooked a claw at him. "Tell me again what you told me a minute ago." The huge cat hung off his boyfriend with tipsy fluidity.

Instantly Barry bellowed, "BEEF U."

And instantly, the entire team roared back, "MEETS YOU."

"BEEF U?!"

"EATS YOU!"

"BEEF U?!"

"BEATS YOU!!"

"SIT THE FUCK"

"DOWN!!!"

Followed by a round of rowdy howling and pounding and chest-bumps that put at least one major dent in a wall. Their university was Wellington, so it only made sense to have cattle-based battle chants.

"Not THAT you numb-nuts!" Caleb finally clarified once the mayhem had settled. "I want you to tell me what you told me about this slab of man right here." He slapped Panic's shoulder. He didn't clock that he had to shift where his arm was to do so.

Barry didn't miss a beat. "OH you want me to tell you what I told you about the biggest hot rod I've seen making camp in the last hour."

"Tell it again."

"I told you I saw this A-1 cut pitching a tent fit for a three-ring circus at the thought of you."

"That's what I heard, and that sounds like a challenge. Whip 'em out, boys, it's fencing time. But first!" He held up a finger. "Consent?" and went around the room, one by one to get nods, not missing a single person, and a few who knew what was coming backed out without issue to go watch TV upstairs.

And then the bottomless portion of the party started. Now, obviously, at college ages, sizes below the belt aren't exactly in flux... for most people. But when you're the size and animalism and hormonal storm of the anthropomorphic beasts in this crew, the seasonal changes and hard flexing that might grant a normal male a millimeter gave them enough to make it worth the contest.

It was one Caleb always won, and one Panic had never participated in. He simply wasn't all that hung, besides the balls due his species, and the exposure had never been appealing. Now, he happily picked an "opponent" and started playing with himself to get red and hard and ready to measure up. He had to push his erection back down to get it perpendicular, and when he did, victory was fully inches from defeat.

"Damn, Panic!" Terrence said with surprise. "Didn't know you were packing."

"You've never seen me worked up." He stole another swallow of size from where his cock was still in contact with the other male, watched the growth pulse down the length of his cock with a barely concealed smile, then backed off and found a new foe to do the same.

He wasn't the second-biggest there, or the third, because Caleb, Theo, and a roan named Phil medaled in the dick-measuring contest easily. The comfort with one another's nudity was something Panic basked in, and of course... it was nice not to come in last. He was hefty.

At long last, things began to wind down. Clothes came back on for decency's sake. A few folks - specifically Theo and Barry - were sprawled drunkenly across furniture and refused to move. It would be easy enough to roll them out the next morning, and Panic got a deep, warm sensation from being able to provide a bed and a breakfast to people, so he didn't mind even slightly that they'd stayed over. Cabs were called for those without a DD, raucous, sloshy goodbyes were said, and at last, Panic ushered the last one out.

It was Nathan. The capybara looked almost ridiculous by this point, with his athletic shorts folded and awkwardly tied to keep them up around his waist and with his muscle tee draping down well past his elbows. He looked up at the two-foot difference in height between himself and Panic and once again cocked his head to the side.

"You got a ride?" Panic asked. He felt seen.

"Yeah. You, uh." His eyes slide down from Panic's gaze to the amulet where it sat almost like a choker. The enchantment had been keeping everyone else from noticing, but the light of comprehension broke in Nathan's dark eyes. "Oh, shi-"

"Good seein' ya, Nate. Have a night." The door shut in his face, and Panic turned inside to find Caleb.

--

Panic's erection swelled instantaneously on seeing Caleb. Bull musk poured into the room. The big cat's arousal responded in turn when Panic wrapped his arms around the larger male and pulled him into a deep, passionate, romantic kiss. Their cocks pressed against one another between their thighs and beneath their clothes while the two stood entwined for long minutes. It had obviously been exhilarating to host the party, and they had gotten to share a quick kiss here and there, but this was different. Caleb's paws gripped around his boyfriends butt cheeks, lifting on them slightly to help close the gap of a few inches between the two partners. Their heads tilted to deepen the kiss, and their tongues tangled and danced playfully. Caleb's rough, feline textures swirled around and against Panic's broad, thick, muscle. They hummed into one another's lips and moaned into the sudden quiet. The cat's musk, which had built as he horsed around with his buds and laughed and joked and drank, sank into Panic's senses and made him greedy for more. The scent of the prehistoric predator was a weakness of his. It smelled ancient and primal. It smelled deep and powerful. And it smelled like being coated in it, soaked in it, over and over whenever Caleb deigned to cum on him instead of in him, and the thought had him throbbing with need.

Panic felt his heels touch the ground again, though now he was at head level with his boyfriend, when the kiss ended. They gazed at one another, still holding on, until Panic kissed the bridge of Caleb's nose. "Head on upstairs, hon; lemme make sure these two are comfy."

Caleb smiled. "You big softy. I'll get ready," he murmured with another squeeze to Panic's ass.

He turned and went upstairs, and Panic watched his ass and gorgeous back as he ascended. The amulet had to weigh a couple pounds, now, and the wooden seed was now an image with a backdrop, of a young tree with a broad canopy that spread across the front of Panic's neck. He wasn't sure if this meant it was at capacity. There had been some papers that had come with it, he was sure, but those were probably in the car and probably didn't matter.

With a devilish grin, he went over the unconscious Theo and Barry. It was true he wanted them to be comfortable, but it was also true that he wasn't satisfied with just being almost as tall as Caleb. He was gonna fuck that cat and make him feel the way the tiger always made him feel, and for that, he needed more. His sweats felt more like tights. Thighs like cannons showed in stark bas relief against them. He doffed them and the underwear, freeing low-hanging nuts that by now outweighed Caleb's. He adjusted the captain and quarterback so that Theo was on his back on the couch and Barry was slumped in a chair with a pillow. As he did, he grew more - then more. They started to look like they'd reverted to their teen years, while he surged past eight feet tall. He watched the long digit extensors in his forearms deepen, as though size was flowing directly from where his fingers touched his prey to the muscle controlling those fingers. The sense of heat and wash of power rippled up into his biceps, but also into the smaller accessory muscles bundled around them, so that brachialis, brachioradialis, both heads of the triceps, and even the divided pennation of his deltoids throbbed into glorious visibility against his smooth, leathery skin. His cock was already hugely erect, but it and his hefty balls pulsed as they grew even more. He could feel those nuts churning while testosterone surged through his blood and brain. Caleb could cum like a firehose, and this was just a taste of that virility. Panic needed more. That cat was his to breed, now, and breed he would.

He walked upstairs - body weight creaking the wooden boards - and found Caleb on his back, full nude and glistening with oil. His massive, erect member was lying with its weight across one hip. His broad body covered the bed. Panic leaned his bulk against the door frame, with his drooling cock sprouting forth from his loins like a young oak. "Happy birthday," he said, with meaning.

"Yeah, you put on a hell of a show for the squad."

"There's that, but there's also..." The eight-foot-five bull gestured at his body. His horns nearly tapped the ceiling. His cock was better measured in feet than inches. His nuts hung like kettle bells. His thighs could lift industrial fridges. His pecs could challenge boulders.

"... Oh."

"You really didn't notice?" He took the few steps to the bed while Caleb blinked and gazed at him anew. His cock swung with each step and his eyes never left his prize. The scent of his arousal perfused the room, dominated it, coated it.

"How...?"

"Let me lube you up."

Panic crawled over his mate lovingly and knelt behind him. "You always make me squeal and moan. I want to give you that. I want to make you my happy mewling kitten."

"Panic...?"

The bull was only half-listening. He pressed the tip of his shaft under Caleb's nuts and flexed. Warm precum spilled against the big cat's entrance in a miniature fountain. "I'll loosen you up, first," he murmured. One finger reached under and pressed in. Caleb grunted and clenched his teeth as the finger swirled around. It was tight. The cat squirmed, but Panic was indomitable. His will didn't leave room for questioning. "I wanna fuck you more than anything."

"I don't understand." But he wasn't resisting. He spread his thighs and Panic felt him try to relax around his digit.

"You don't have to." Another finger went in alongside the first. Panic flexed again to send another spurt of lubricating precum between his love's cheeks. "Just relax, and let me do this, for once."

Caleb whispered, "Fuck," and his eyes went up to the ceiling as Panic prepared him for the storm to come.

The whole while, Panic continued growing and Caleb kept shrinking. He could feel the size change around his fingers. He didn't want to stop. The only thing in his mind was to be the bigger man for his kitten, and to bloat Caleb with bull jizz until the cat couldn't walk. He ran out of patience rapidly. It wasn't as long as it needed before he lined up his girth and pushed.

Caleb yowled at the invasion. He strained and clenched the bedsheets. "Fuck, fuck, how do you do this when I'm on top?!" he whined.

"Practice, and three times the lube you think you need." Panic smiled and shoved three inches in. "And a fuckload of determination."

"Oh fuck, is that, what is that?" Caleb's eyes flew open and his body started shuddering as though he were already on the edge of climax.

"The prostate, hon." Another shove, another three inches, another yowl. Caleb made as if to grab Panic's wrists, to have something to hold onto, but Panic snatched his wrists instead and pinned them to the bed. "You're gonna feel a lot of that. I'm gonna make you cum in ways you've never heard of. You'll learn to love it and nothing else."

He rocked his hips back and forth a few times, just to feel his own girth inside his lover. He shifted the angle, turned his hips this way and that, and used his size to move Caleb around. The seemingly muscle-bound football star was as flexible as his heritage, so with a few lifts and shoves, Panic had rolled him onto his side and was soon hugging one thigh to his muscular chest while he rolled, rocked, and rammed his hips to keep pounding deeper inside. The necklace felt tight, choking tight, on the enormous growing bull, but Panic couldn't pay attention to that. He kept pulsing bigger, and bigger. Nine feet. Ten. And his cock kept growing, as well, even as he pounded more and more of it into Caleb's ass, and his nuts bloated to the size of Caleb's butt cheeks, which they slapped loudly with each drive inward. One more inch, and one more, and one more, and one more, over and over and over and over again.

"Let's get that tail up," he muttered. He rotated Caleb on his cock again until the big cat - well, smaller now - was having his face mashed into the pillows, and started bucking again. This time, Panic had a goal in mind he couldn't be dissuaded from. The necklace bit into his bulging traps and his throat, but he huffed and snorted his way past it. He pumped, and pumped, and pumped, until he hilted in the cat's ass. "There..." he lowed, the voice from that mammoth chest easily filling the room with its vibrations. He let his body fall over Caleb's, with his hands on the tiger's shoulders, and pushed his broad snout under Caleb's neck to breathe deep of that masculine perfume. "Fuck, you smell good... you feel good... you look good..."

snap

The amulet fell daintily. Caleb was deep in his arousal, but he was a clever cat. His hand snatched it immediately and hid it under his body. Panic, however, was so lost in his pursuit of ultimate dominance and climax that he didn't register it. His hips bucked like a machine in a smithy. His thick lips kissed and worshipped Caleb's neck and shoulders and back. He loved the way that a simple movement of his pelvis could make the tiger's entire body rock on the bed. His pace accelerated as his arousal flared brighter and brighter.

At last, Panic came. It was volcanic. It was a magmatic shift, not just in magnitude, but in the way the bedrock of his mind cracked and changed, from the ever-receiving, ever-submissive, ever-cum-stuffed bottom to a raging mountain of dominant force. Cum exploded from him and into Caleb in an eruption that easily bloated the tiger's abdomen. His jizz was fiercely hot and beautifully fragrant as it quickly started seeping, then squirting from their joining where his nuts kept slamming into Caleb's ass, trying to pound more and more cum within him, trying to treat him to the immeasurable joy Panic got from being filled by his lover. There was nothing but this fiery tumult to Panic, and the incredible man beneath him, containing it.

And so he didn't notice as, moments later, his growth stopped, and Caleb's began.

It was faster, this time, but just as before, the 'donor' didn't notice. He kept cumming while Caleb's shoulders surged under his paws. He kept cumming while that tight, beautiful ass expanded around his pulsating shaft, the glutes swelled up and out, and the thighs were wrinkled deep with individual muscle fibers. He kept cumming while Caleb's pelvies stopped giving way to his and provided a solid, steel-muscle fixture against which he continued to thrust. Only once the climax ended did he finally look up, panting and wheezing, and see the fierce, glimmering grin his mate was giving him over his mortar shell shoulders.

"That was good, babe," Caleb purred. He reached back, hooked an arm under Panic's shoulder, and unceremoniously dismounted the bull while simultaneously pulling him around his body to land on his back on the bed. "Felt you way up high in my ribs, felt like. And yeah, feels good to be a little bloated." His predatory feline eyes, filled with sincere warmth and gratitude, captured Panic's while he used arms like individual anacondas, still bulking up even as Panic was repositioned, to settle the bull under him. "But we both know who's at the top of the food chain, here, love." His voice was low and his breath was hot and passionate as it poured over Panic's features.

The bull shrank back instinctively, even though the way his lover was acting was keeping his recently-spent arousal throbbing with need. "I-I wanted to try something, different. Show you something new." He couldn't believe how quickly he was giving into his usual desires. He arched his hips uncontrollably. Caleb was monstrous. And he wore it so well.

"You did good, my little top sirloin steak. And now's your reward." Caleb slid a cock half the girth and length of Panic's entire torso up his belly and chest. Panic reached down to fawn over it while it drooled precum into his fur. Each heartbeat made it more cramped between them, and Panic could watch as Caleb's pecs steadily throbbed another quarter inch, and another, and another, broader and deeper. He traced the shaft's dense vasculature, worshipped its heat and its sweat, and found his fingers at the base, where there was a simple leather strap, clumsily re-tied, as a cock ornament. The amulet hung against Caleb's swelling nuts: a large circle carved in the shape of a fully fledged mustard tree.

"Oh, f-f-f..."

"That's the plan."

Panic was used to his boyfriend's incredible size, but his boyfriend usually only stood at about eight-four. Such a height was proper enormous, to be sure, but this behemoth atop him was over ten feet tall, and still going. He backed up a foot and a half - farther - to properly position his cock under Panic's nuts. The big cat purred thunderously as he planted hot, wet kisses from Panic's throat to sternum to abdomen, and rumbled low as he dragged his tongue over the bull's cum-coated erection. Like a gentleman, he took a moment to rub Panic's ring with slick precum - but not as much of a moment as Panic had given. Caleb lined up and entered like a steel forge's hammer, and Panic bellowed with pleasure.

The tremendous shaft filled Panic's abdomen and forced his legs to spread wide. Its outline traveled up his belly and into his chest. Caleb was loving - his gaze filled with romantic adoration and his broad paws roaming Panic's body with the possession of a mate the entire time - but he was heedless. He knew his boyfriend could take it. The stretch was glorious, the strain was heavenly, and the thing about the constant growth was this: the stretch never stopped. Each thrust was a new challenge, each swing of Caleb's wrecking balls was heavier. Panic's eyes rolled up into his head in bliss as Caleb powered into his ass with the brutal regularity of an impact crusher. The cat leaned down and covered Panic's entire body with his bulldozer frame and kissed his lips with a tenderness that contrasted and complemented the unrelenting power of his lovemaking. The bull's usual lowing came out as a whimper as the tiger's warm breath flowed over his face. The base boards creaked and the bed groaned with strain from the force of each thrust. And still Caleb grew, now with trapezius framing his neck and stretched taut against his skin; now with deltoids swelling up from volleyballs to medicine balls; now with a pectoral shelf that overhung the shape his cock made in Panic's abdomen. The bull's horns got jammed into the bed frame at some point, where Caleb used the anchor so he could pound even faster. He was now rapidly approaching climax. His nuts slapped Panic's ass with each thrust, and with them came the amulet that had caused all these, spanking Panic as though a reprimand for his theft.

And then, Caleb came. He was more used to a body this size than Panic was: He knew how to wield the hurricane of climax whose force visibly distended Panic's belly with the arc of the cum shot alone, then rapidly hid the shape of Caleb's cock. Panic went bloated, then pot-bellied, then cartoonishly fat with cum, and then Caleb yanked out and kept cumming, with ferociously hot cat jizz audibly slapping flesh and fur and furniture with each seconds-long spray, until at last Caleb filled the room with a bellow, and lowered his lips to Panic's in a kiss that was ownership and romance in a motion - and kept cumming, splash after splash, prodding the outside of his boyfriend's over-full belly.

Minutes later...

Caleb purred, spooned up behind his beautifully bloated partner. The purr rattled the window frames. It sank into Panic's bones. The sabertooth tiger enveloped him in tremendous, naked, magnificent bulk. It kept him squeezed in a protective, possessive cocoon of pectorals and biceps and thighs. "Thank you," murmured Caleb. He kissed the bull's nape and gave it a loving stroke of his tongue. Panic blushed fiercely and started to respond, but got interrupted by a couple claws suddenly gripping his backside and a renewed stiffening of the partially spent cock against his spine. "- for a wonderful round one."