FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Hoard of Big Fluffs 13

by tagenar (https://www.furaffinity.net/user/tagenar | https://tagenar.sofurry.com/)

{Back to the dayjob, and then Garr senses a familiar presence. Time for a reunion with a particular hyperfox.}

He confirmed his flat had not been disturbed the whole time. He barely fit in his bed, and the floor creaked when he walked. He wondered how much he weighed now, and if it would make a difference.

To his relief, his appetite was no bigger than before. Seemed a dragon’s heat was doing most of the work maintaining him. While at the tavern, he looked over the paper Ulrich had given him. The man who had gone missing was named Oskar. Garreth didn’t recall meeting him, and he regretted not asking about him.

Garreth wondered what the harm would be in simply telling people what happened. He might have to soon anyway. That thought led him to wondering where else he couldn’t set foot now. Ethrix had said he was carrying a dragon’s heat, so what did that make him in the eyes of the faithful? Feigning ignorance of what “Pear” had done to heal his fevers would probably answer most questions, but if someone wanted to investigate, what would they find?

Garreth wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

Making swords was almost too easy now. Garreth discovered early on after taking over Oskar’s forge and accounts that he didn’t need to wear protective clothing, as the heat from the fire did not sear his skin. Whereas before he worked up a sweat striking the metal and forming the blade, now he merely needed to tap the metal with a hammer, and it gave.

After a day or so, while he was sure no one was watching, he experimented forming it with his fingers. The red-hot metal gave to his touch, and his skin did not burn. He didn’t need to strike the metal to form it; he could sculpt hot metal like clay now. The only danger was how large and veiny his forearms and hands became in the process. The longer he did it, the further the bulging spread, eventually expanding his biceps and chest and shoulders. After forming three blades this way, he decided to stop so he wouldn’t draw attention to himself.

He could make swords so fast he figured he could catch up on this person’s month of orders in three days, so Garr had to be sure not to produce too much or he would certainly draw suspicion.

Since he didn’t need to work all day to make the same number of blades, he had time to do something he hadn’t done before: see the city.

Really see it.

For years he had worked in the city but hadn’t had much time to experience it, and now he could take in the sights. The gardens. The various districts. The theater. Foods he hadn’t tried because he never had time to visit those districts before now. So long as no one found out he could do more than twice the work of a normal person in a day, he was free to live at last.

Garreth felt content with this arrangement, and he maintained it for months, long after he caught up to Oskar’s orders and took new ones. He did eventually inquire at the Guild about who this man was and what happened to him.

Oskar hailed from the domain of Limeria, in the water-logged forest. He had no wife, no family, and no one knew where he had gone. Other than a few papers regarding his apprenticeship, the Guild had no other information on him, but the Guild didn’t want to lose another foundry, so maintaining it was the least Garr could do to make up for failing to establish one in Apporo.

Garr was in his foundry forming nearly-molten metal with his hands when he felt a strange sensation.

A presence.

He finished shaping the blade and then inserted it into the cooling vat. He still wore his protective clothing in case anyone walked in on him, and now he stepped outside, following the sensation. A few people were out and about, including some small children running.

It reminded Garr of that sense of awareness he had in the cavern. Being able to sense everyone, even see himself from other points of view. Here it was again, but only a flicker. He scanned the people on the street, and his eyes locked with someone. A man dressed in a loose, hooded robe who clearly felt the same regarding Garreth, for as soon as their eyes met, he approached. The closer this man came, the more familiar he seemed.

A few yards away, he smiled.

“Greetings, sir,” said the man. “I believe we’ve met before.”

Garreth’s eyes lit up and he crossed the distance. “Tagenar!”

The other man embraced him, taking a moment to feel the back of Garreth’s arms. Garr gave them a quick flex while he took a similar moment to feel this man’s shoulders. Canyons, well-hidden but noticeable. He pulled away and looked him in the eye.

“You do have a face!”

He laughed. “Yes, yes, I do!”

“I don’t think I saw it once in two years! What are you doing in Perez?”

“Something personal brings me here. I felt someone familiar when I entered the gates. I’ve been following it for hours.”

Garreth slapped him on the back. “Come in, come in. I have a ways to go before I finish up. Tell me everything.”

The former canine led the former vulpine back inside. Once they had entered, Garr shut the door and latched it. He then pulled the shutters closed.

“I didn’t get to see you before you left,” Garr said. “I wanted to tell everyone goodbye, but things happened too quickly.”

He turned around. Tagenar had already disrobed, and just from the back he could tell Ethrix had left him with quite a bit. Garr removed his unnecessary clothing as well as his guest turned around. Garr’s eyes widened.

“That’s—”

The former fox’s mouth dangled upon seeing Garreth. They stepped toward one another, Tagenar immediately reaching out and feeling Garr’s chest. Garr fondled Tagenar, which was half hard and already as long as his own. Less than a minute later, it was all the way up, and it reached Tagenar’s chin.

“Ethrix gave you a bigger cock.”

“He gave you bigger muscles.” Tagenar stepped around Garr, feeling as much of him as he could, smacking and kneading the dense flesh. Garreth was all the way hard, dick scraping his nipples.

“Do yours do this?” Garr clasped his hands and squeezed his whole body.

Veins sprouted. His muscle fibers unfolded, and they rose to twice their usual size. His neck disappeared inside his chest and back, and his chin rested on his chest. Tagenar kneaded the muscles again. They had filled his palms before, and now they had grown beyond his fingertips. His hands wandered down to his thighs, grasping every divide and peak around them.

“How do you live with all of this?”

“You first. Tell me how you live with a tool like that?”

Garr didn’t have to reach down to feel Tagenar’s arm-thick cock, which rested against his shoulder in this position.

Tagenar spoke with both hands on Garr’s thigh. He was tracing the numerous veins. “It only hangs twelve inches soft.”

“Only?”

He nuzzled his thighs, appreciating that they touched no matter how Garr stood. “You should see the looks on people’s faces when they see how much it grows.”

“You’ve shown people?”

He was fondling Garr’s orbs, marveling at how they overfilled his hands. “They can’t believe it’s real. A few want to see it closer. Some even pay.” Tagenar rose and took a few steps back to look Garreth up and down. He rubbed himself, fingers unable to wrap around his weapon. “What about you? You ever use these?”

Now it was Garr’s turn to fondle him. The former fox had gained muscle as well. “They come in handy for the work I do.” His arms were less than half the size of Garreth’s but still bulkier than anything typical out there. “I did carry a horse to a stable once though.”

“A horse?”

“She was injured. I picked her up and walked her half a mile to a barn. Set her down in some hay. She seemed grateful.”

“Found anyone who wants to see them?”

Garr gave his shaft a squeeze. A drop of pre the size of his fist grew at the tip and perched there, precarious as a nesting pigeon. Smiling, Garr licked it. Tagenar smiled and shook it off. It made a loud plap noise on the stone floor, and an even larger stain. Garr had a flashback to the cavern and he expected a Kobold to crawl from beneath a table and collect it.

“I’ve had a few offers,” Garr said. “I’ve been tempted.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Tagenar flexed his bicep. His arm was about the size of his head. He felt himself. His dick throbbed, and more clear fluid oozed out. “Ethrix’s heat is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Garr stepped back and marveled at what a dragon’s heat had done to someone else. He bumped against the cooling pool and remembered he still had a sword to make. He pulled it out and began working the bellows, stoking the fire.

“I don’t know. I liked being admired in the cave, but out here. Doesn’t feel quite right. I prefer to get away from the foundry and the Guild and enjoy being in the city. Been living here most of my life and never really got to see any of it until now.”

Tagenar was feeling himself from stomach to neck, tracing the lines up his body. Was difficult to see with his tool in the way—another flashback to the cave.

“I was so moody before I spent five years in that cave. Sometimes up, sometimes down. I had my heart set on staying forever, but I knew it had to end. Ethrix showed me how it felt to be up all the time, and I never wanted to feel any other way. He gave me that. The dream ended, but I woke up and found out it wasn’t a dream after all. Now I don’t know how I lived without a dragon’s heat. I have something to show off, and I can use it whenever I want.”

The fire was all the way up, and Garreth inserted the sword. He worked the bellows. Tiny cinders flew out, some landing on his skin and not even leaving mark. His dense muscles were still all the way puffed out, making it challenging to move like this. He couldn’t move his arms in any direction without puckering his chest, which pushed against his chin.

“Maybe Ethrix is on to something when he thought magic should be used to balance one another out.”

“He balanced me. I wasted so many years thinking I was supposed to be one thing but I was stuck being something else. He brought me closer to what I wanted.”

“I think Ethrix knew that’s what I really wanted. Using my body to get all my work done early so I can live out there.” Working the bellows made his bicep collide with his forearm. “That’s something I’ve come to see lately. More and more it feels like I’m taking orders from the Guild. That I’m expected to be there for them, doing what they want, rather than being a swordsmith with their support. It wasn’t always like this. Not at all what my father told me it would be. I don’t like where things are going. So long as no one else knows I can do more work in less time, I’m working on my own terms again. It feels as if I have my profession back.”

Tagenar was rubbing his entire length as he watched Garr work. “You seemed to like other people looking up to you, too. Ethrix chose you to be the giant dragons in other people’s memories quite often.”

Garr smiled as he pulled out the red-hot metal. He held it up and demonstrated how he could form the metal with his fingers. His chest wasn’t as much in the way now; his muscles were quickly settling into something less obstructive.

“It was fun,” Garr said, “playing the object of other people’s dreams.”

“You liked being looked up to and admired. Maybe more so than anyone else in that cave.”

“Sometimes it’s difficult to stay soft walking through crowds, catching glimpses of them looking at me. It was fun while it lasted. I think I’m content taking my life back. No one has noticed I’m missing half the day. Maybe I got it out of my system in the cave. Still time to figure out the rest.”

Garr noticed something on Tagenar’s abdomen. A noticeable scar on the skin. Garr had added a curve to the blade, and he paused as he looked at the mark.

“What’s that?” He pointed.

“Oh, someone tried to shove a knife through my belly a few months ago. My muscles stopped the blade. He thought I was wearing mail.”

“Why’d he stab you?”

“I was drunk and I might’ve insulted his wife. I apologized after he stabbed me. She deserved it, but I shouldn’t have said it.”

Garr smirked and clasped the hot metal again, pushing metal up and down, evening out its thickness. “So tell me, what’s with the robes?”

“I worked for a college of histories. Still do, but I’m making more money traveling and showing this off.”

Garr laughed.

Tagenar waved his dick back and forth. He crouched and hid his face behind it for a moment, just like old times. “I thought it was my duty to teach people history. Show how the same things keep happening over and over, regardless of nation or dynasty. Turns out this is all people want to see. So fine. I get to travel and I don’t have to worry.”

“Ever... ever try to step inside any churches?”

Tagenar looked forlorn. “Just once. But I’m here for a wedding, so no worries there.”

“It’s a problem I haven’t dealt with. At some point I must meet with someone of the church to pay respect, at least.”

“I’ve asked how the church views dragons. Haven’t gotten a simple answer. I never heard a priest mention them before, so either the deities are real and they don’t like dragons, or something else is going on.”

His penis and muscles had returned to something less obscene. Garr’s chin no longer rested on his chest, so he, too, had come down. Tagenar waved his limp dick around. He looked almost normal, even his muscles, which looked lithe but still bulky.

“You could, too, Garr. If the Guild is giving orders instead of being there for smiths, you don’t have to be a swordsmith anymore. You can travel. Make a living being admired.”

Garr looked away. “I don’t know. That seems wrong.”

“Possibilities, Garreth. Lots of them are open to you now. Ethrix knew you wanted to be that blood-red dragon, so he let you try it. You adored it. I saw you many times. Could be the part of the dream that doesn’t end for you.”

Garr slid the sword into the cooling vat again. The room filled with steam. Garr looked down at his forearm as the metal cooled. Sometimes he looked at himself in mirrors and got hard.

“Four generations of swordsmiths,” Garr said. “Smithing is useful. It’s something I earned. Showing off and being admired seems like a waste. I want to use this for something. And I am. For now, I’m fine with that.”

“Do both,” Tagenar said. “Doesn’t have to be all or nothing.”

Garr smiled. “So whose wedding brings you to Perez?”

“A relative of mine. They’re—”

Tagenar surged. He gritted his teeth.

Garr felt it, too. Something was flowing into him. Into his legs. His arms. His neck. His groin. For a flash of an instant, he saw himself through Tagenar’s eyes: his chest puffing. His legs filling out. His height rising. His own body scaling upward. It was happening to the former fox as well—his cock hung 12 inches before and now it had clearly put on another inch or so.

The surge only lasted a few breaths before it calmed, leaving them both panting and looking one another over.

Garr crossed the distance and stood over him. Tagenar was indeed taller, his arms thicker, but the most obvious sign that something was different was his cock. It touched his chin before. Now it was all the way up again and reached his eyes.

Garr noted he himself had gained a few inches in height. Maybe half a foot. The room certainly appeared smaller. His chest stuck out farther. His arms felt heavier with mass. He tested them, moved them all around. Muscles bunched up and puckered when they hadn’t before, even while his dense bulk remained in a relaxed state.

“What was that?” Tagenar said, still gasping.

“I don’t know, but you’re bigger.”

“So are you. Oh my.”

Garr walked to the bellows and tested it. The act of working it felt even easier.

Tagenar was flexing his new mass. “Mmmm I like it.”

Garr gulped. “Whatever that was, I hope it doesn’t happen again. I can barely conceal it all before. Do my clothes even fit now?”

Garr picked up his smithing clothes and pulled them on. They were tight. His thighs strained the leather, and as he pulled them over his chest, his pectorals pushed it out so far Garr could barely breathe.

Tagenar grinned. “You look good in those.”

“Shit.”

“I think my robes will still fit, but... what happened?”

“Nothing, I hope. Maybe a side effect. Maybe we’ll go back down.”

“I hope not.” Tagenar was feeling his arms, bigger than his head now.

Garr felt his own biceps. Definite difference. Bulky even while relaxed. He looked over at Tagenar.

“Well, when is the wedding? Do you have time to see the city?”

“Wedding is tomorrow. I have time.”

Garr smiled. “Good. I know some places worth going.”

{This is the end of the first arc. I have not written the rest, though I do have an idea for where the story is going. Real life has interfered, and my mood has crashed. I'll resume the story when I can, and if there is demand for more. If you like what you've read, plz spread the word, leave comments, and buy/review my published work. Thank you.}

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4539730.James\_L\_Steele

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7136003.Tagenar