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_ The Story of the Foolish Foot-Licker _

_ Penned at the order of the Grand Perverts Guild _

Banning had been out of High Rock for some time, but he had not shaken his nation's dislike for the lizards from the swamp in the south. They had been seen across Tamriel as a lower race, and though High Rock had always sided against the elves of Summerset Isle, they had picked up some of their views. Despite only being 12 years old, Banning had picked up the worst of the worst views, and viewed most of the lizard property as his own. In his homelands, that hadn't been a problem; people shared his views enough that he could abuse the lizards as much as he wanted.

Of course, when he traveled to the south of the province of Cyrodiil, that protection had disappeared, and the large, dusty foot of an angry Argonian woman had him pinned to the ground just outside Leyawiin.

The only name he knew her by was the one that the city people had given her, "Bears-Much-Malice", and from the way that she glared at him, he knew where it came from. His eyes darted to the small purse of money in hand; it didn't look worth all the rage she was directing him, now.

"What do you think you're doing?" she said, her clothing as dusty and covered in mud as the rest of her. Most of it was in shreds, too, and the young boy's eyes were drawn to her breasts, the large buds - not as large as humans, but large enough to notice - sticking out just enough to be seen through the shreds in her shirt. Of pants there were none, just a loincloth like the savages were always said to wear when they were not in civilized company. It made it...very interesting...to look up at her, Banning thought to himself as his eyes trailed up her thigh.

Before he could look at something more interesting, she shoved her foot against his face, and he gagged at the sudden wave of musk that hit his nose. His lips felt gritty as the sand and dust on her foot blew over them, and he barely managed to get one cough before she shoved one clawed toe into his mouth.

"Well, can't say I didn't give you a chance, human; if you're going to try and steal from me, I should report you to the city guard."

He squirmed under her feet, enough that she actually curled her toe to prick his tongue with one of the toe claws. That froze him in place; he was afraid of the city guards, but he might be able to talk his way out of trouble with them. If he still had a tongue to talk with, that was.

"I said I should, human," Bears-Much-Malice said, glaring down at him. Her lips turned up in a bit of a cruel smirk as she pulled her foot back, the dust on her toes rubbing off on his tongue enough for him to taste the scales beneath. A taste of sweat pressed against his tongue, of musk, of someone that had been working all day, if not into the night, and he had to force himself to suppress his gag reflex. "I should, but I don't think they'd deal with you right. Humans always side with their own.

"So, I'll give you a chance to avoid some time in their prison...and in exchange, you do something for me." She pulled her toes out of his mouth, but kept the claws near his neck, pinning him. "What do you say?"

The Breton boy considered it carefully, looking at her with cautious curiosity. "What do I have to do?"

"You'll spend the rest of the night as my foot rest and my foot licker." She wiggled her toes in front of his face, and despite his best efforts to hold his breath, Banning couldn't avoid smelling the musky sweat coming off of her scales. She smirked at him, curling her toes around his nose. "Heh, take a good sniff, boy; you're not going to be smelling anything else for a while."

Despite his best efforts to squirm back, she had a grip on his face that was like iron; any squirming just felt like he was trying to pull his nose free from his face, and it only shoved the smell of smelly feet further into his nose. It sent shudders down his spine, and not the good kind that he usually got when he was looking at half naked women; then again, this was a lizard, not a woman.

She pulled her toes back after a second, and held her foot in front of his face. "Get licking, boy; I want it nice and clean so it can be dirty after the walk home." When he hesitated, she pressed his face down against the dirt with her foot again. "Or I can call the guards. What do you want to do?"

Despite his thought that the guards might be the better option here, Banning knew that they were already on the watch for him after his run-in with a Khajiit yesterday. Not much better than this, really, but they'd let him off with a warning before. They wouldn't do it again.

So, he stuck out his tongue, slowly dragging it across the scaly underside of the Argonian lady's foot. He could feel the hardness of the scales beneath the muddy and dusty surface covering it. The filth of the dust was quickly taken over by the sweaty, salty taste of the scales beneath, and he groaned in distaste as he sucked down more of it.

And as he licked towards the toes, she laughed. Laughed long, and hard, and loud enough that he would be surprised if they didn't hear her back at the city.

As she started fingering herself - her hand slipped under the loincloth, so that was what he assumed she was doing - he wondered how in the world he had fallen so low as to have this lizard lording it over him.

The end, for now.

_ The Story of the Pussy Potion _

_ Penned at the order of the Alchemist's Guild _

It had been a long time since Denel had been satisfied with the way that the Imperials lived. He hadn't had much choice in the matter, of course; living in the Imperial City left one with little variety in lifestyles to choose, and though he was of age to leave his family and search elsewhere for a different life, he'd never had the resources or ability to do it.

Then, one day, he was given a potion by one of the traveling alchemists going in and out of the market. They said that it would be something that he could use, something that would change his life forever. When he tried to press further, he had only gotten a knowing smile from the traveling Redguard, with the words, "You'll see when you drink it."

He'd kept the potion in his room for a full week, debating whether he should drink it or not. It could be poison, or something worse that would leave him crippled for life, even if it didn't kill him. Was that worth risking, for the chance of having a different life?

At first, he hadn't thought so, but with the knowledge that he now had a chance, everything seemed worse than usual. The blandness of his family, the way that they ate and prayed and exchanged gossip with their neighbors; it just seemed like it never ended. The same thing, day in, and day out. He needed...craved...deserved something different. Denel knew it in his soul.

So, after the week was over, he had taken the potion bottle out of its hiding place. Sneaking out of the house at night, he'd made his way from the Talos Plaza to an isolated area on the waterfront. There were plenty of beggars down there, and a great deal of ships that went all over the empire. If this potion worked, he would want to leave quickly, and that would be the best place to go to make his way to a different place quickly.

The city was dark enough that he was unmolested as he made his way there. Guards walked the street, but they were blinded by the lights of their own torches, and they didn't bother him. Occasionally, he caught sight of a thief that was making their way towards one of the houses, probably making a nightly raid, but none of them approached him, so he didn't stop them.

Still, he was tense when he reached the waterfront, and he crouched behind a crate with his whole body shaking. Looking at the bottle in his hands, seeing the purple liquid sloshing about inside, he almost wondered if it would be better to go home.

No, he thought; this was his chance. He had to take it.

Before his courage could desert him again, he shoved the top of the bottle into his mouth, and threw his head back to swig it down. He barely caught a hint of a berry taste before it slid down his throat, and he swallowed fast to keep it going. It was smooth and thin, and moved down without him needing to swallow much, but he kept gulping anyway, not daring to stop until the bottle was completely empty.

Dropping it into the water beside him, he looked down as he felt a growing heat in his belly. It was spreading through his blood, he felt, and he shook as the fire spread through his arms, and down his legs...everywhere.

The first change he felt was the way that it started pushing him...taller. His body felt like it was being pulled from both ends, his head tugged upwards while his feet were held tight against the ground. It was like hanging from a ledge by a finger, the way that his body was pulled, and he groaned, trying to keep quiet as the potion worked. He had no idea what was happening, but he doubted shouting would stop it...or if he wanted to stop it.

Soon, he had grown nearly two hands taller, though his stomach and chest had grown thinner as a result, more winnowy. Leaning against the railing between him and the water, he could only stare as his arms began to sprout fur. The pattern was familiar, as was the color; he had seen the same color on countless feline travelers over the last few days. A look down at his fingers confirmed his suspicions as he saw that claws were slowly sprouting from his fingertips, pushing out into deadly looking curves and points.

"A...Khajiit?" Denel whispered to himself, his skin rapidly disappearing under the fast growing fur. It covered him from head to toe in seconds, and he yowled as he felt something pushing against his pants. He looked over his shoulder, watching as a bump grew, and grew....before breaking through the skin. A naked tail burst out of his clothes, rapidly covered in the same brown and white fur that covered the rest of his body.

As his fingers and palms grew pads over them, he felt his face start to shift as well. Turning his head over the railing, he looked down at the water. In the reflection, he could see his face pulling out, mutating, shifting. His nose, his lips merged together, as though some invisible hand had grabbed them and shoved them together, and then started pulling them out. He growled and mewled as his face was changed, but at least it was fast, quickly taking on feline Khajiit features.

His teeth sharpened rapidly as he shoved a hand down his pants, checking on...other things. He blushed as he found his cock surrounded by a fleshy tube instead of hanging free as usual, but grinned as he realized how much...bigger it was. That....that was going to be interesting, he thought.

The changes completed themselves shortly after that, and as he leaned against the railing, panting and trying to recover, a sailor walked over to him. An Argonian, he realized, black scaled and with a sword at his waist. "This one looks tired; got coin for a night aboard?"

Denel almost turned him down shyly...but as he looked over the lizard, he figured, well, he was changing some things. Why not try others? "I think...I can pay with something other than coin," he said, licking his lips teasingly.

The End, for now.

_ The Story of the Orc Orgy _

_ Penned at the order of Nataraj, the Orgy's Center _

The two moons were brighter than Nataraj had expected, but he'd thought that he'd be good enough to get to the center of the Orc stronghold anyway; after all, the orcs were supposed to have been tired after a fight with a few giants that evening, and should have been sleeping. In, loot, out; that was how the Argonian had expected it to go.

Of course, it never went the way that he expected. Not in Bleak Falls Barrow, not when he was partying with Sanguine, and sure as hell not here.

Three orcs had been awake, and all three had stopped him as soon as he'd gotten over the walls. They'd thrown ropes and caught him by the neck, arm, and ankles, and trussed him up next to a small firepit. The fire had been lit shortly afterwards, and the three orcs had stood next to it, talking about what they were going to do with him while Nataraj had fiddled with the ropes.

When it was clear that he wasn't going to get free - at least not without outside help - the Argonian had settled for listening to the orcs, wondering what they were planning for him. That listening, when it turned out fruitless - they spoke a different language than the one he was used to - slowly turned into watching. And that, in turn, turned into looking.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn't help but enjoy looking at the three green warriors. Not a one of them had their usual armor on, probably because they'd been relaxing when he was coming over the wall, and without the metal to keep their bodies hidden, well, he had an eyeful of them. They were...well, if Nataraj hadn't been so layered in leather, he would have had quite the embarrassing reaction to seeing the orcs. They were hard, muscled, and BIG, both in height and...well, other things. Their loinclothes didn't do a damn thing, that was for sure, the Argonian thought to himself.

Catching himself licking his lips, Nataraj looked away, but it was too late. The orcs had noticed, and moved from the fire to sit closer to him. They squatted down around him, and one of them squatted right over his head, a big green dick just barely above his nose. Every breath in brought the smell of cock musk into his nose, and he could smell that the orc had enjoyed himself quite a bit lately. A little shudder went down his spine, and his leather trousers just got a little more uncomfortable.

One of the orcs busied themselves with the bindings at his waist, and the one over his face chuckled. "Looks like the lizard gets a good picture of just what's gonna happen to him," the warrior said with a deep chuckle. "Now don't fight, and maybe you'll like it too, but fight, and we'll make you hop back home, huh?"

Nataraj nodded without question, even though his cheek scales burned bright red as his leathers were removed. His cock stood up straight, and he felt one big orc hand grab hold of it, stroking it a few times before letting go.

"You, Udruk; you get his ass. I'll get his tongue for a while," the one above him said. Nataraj started to open his mouth, thinking that he would need to start sucking off the big man, but the orc pulled back before he could do anything.

Instead, two big green feet were lowered on his face. He had just enough time to see that, by firelight, there were sweat droplets along the bottom, and that they were quite warm and musky, and...and needed servicing, a part of him said. He groaned, sucking in a breath through his mouth and nose at the same time as the feet descended towards him.

The musk made his cock jump just before the feet pressed down on his face. His world turned green, completely made up of the big feet on his face, and his tongue pressed past his lips before he could stop it. The lizard blushed worse, but he attacked the feet with his tongue, dragging his tongue over those surprisingly smooth soles and over the toes. Every lick brought the taste of manly flesh to his mouth, and he couldn't stop himself from licking faster and faster, even as his tongue started to sting from it a bit.

One of the other orcs - Urduk, he thought - grabbed him by the hips, lifting him off of the ground a bit. The orc was strong enough to keep him off of the ground, surprisingly, and he suddenly felt a warm, thick, and VERY big cock pressing between his ass cheeks. A rough, thick fingered hand shoved his tail out of the way - not that he was trying all that hard to keep it in place - and he felt gooey orc pre leaking over his ass.

There was no chance to protest before the orc shoved in, and his shout was muffled against the smooth foot flesh above his face. He groaned into those sweaty feet as that dick slid further and further into his hole, and his toes curled in pleasure as he enjoyed the feeling of being filled. Something he'd never known could feel this good...though he'd never had something as big as orc cock in his ass before either.

As the last orc took hold of one of his feet, licking along the scaly underside while apparently jerking off - that's what he thought he heard anyway - Nataraj couldn't help but smile. He would need to get caught in strongholds more often.

The End, for now.

_ The Story of the New Order _

_ Penned at the order of the Melon Man _

Azuk grunted softly as he hefted his heavy pack again, shaking his head as he followed behind the rest of his battle group. The battle leader - a bigger orc than him by three hands at least - stood at the front of their line, while he stood at the middle. The ten of them had entered Skyrim from the south three days ago, and all ten of them had been stared at and watched wherever they stopped.

It was almost a relief to be back on the road again, even if he was having to deal with a pack that had to be three hundred pounds.

The ten orcs all had much the same equipment; they all wore iron armor, and they all had a good bit of weaponry under their belt, as well as several stamina potions amidst their plethora of health potions. The leader had a few more, as well as steel armor instead of iron, but other than that, they were all outfitted pretty much the same.

What they were here for, Azuk didn't know. He was just a grunt, and he followed orders, from the Order back home. They told him to be here? He was going to be here. They told him to kill someone? He was going to kill someone. That was all there was to it.

Sometimes it was a little strange to think of fighting as all there was to do. After all, it seemed that life needed something more than that. Eating, maybe? He didn't remember the last time that he had done that, but it must have been somewhat recently, because he wasn't hungry. Eh, the doubts never lasted long; once he got back in touch with the Order, as they all did every night, he always got back to normal.

Still...it might not hurt to get in touch with it again earlier.

Azuk closed his eyes, letting his mind go blank as the Order touched on him as it always did. The rattling sound of armor went silent, and he realized that the rest of the battle group were all doing the same thing.

The touch came and went as it always did, and Azuk opened his eyes.

Just like before, the battle group was walking down the path without anything but their loincloths on. Not a one of them ever wore clothes, after all; their method of battle was much different than the typical warriors from the mountains and the strongholds. They fought without any swords but ones of flesh; they fought with cock, and with ass, and with muscle.

He looked at his assigned partner ahead of him, a slightly weedier orc - but still bigger than most any human - named Nag. Nag was the one that fought with his ass, while Azuk was the one that fought with his cock. His eyes drifted down towards Nag's rear, smirking a bit to himself at the way that the muscled ass cheeks slipped from side to side, rubbing against each other with each step that the smaller orc took. "Heh, sparring match tonight," Azuk muttered to himself, reaching down and stroking his stiffening 'sword' a few times.

Suddenly, his hand darted forward. His fingers pressed against Nag's ass, and his hand tightened in a grope around one of those fleshy ass cheeks. The slight moment of confusion was erased as the Order pressed on his mind again, and he realized what he needed to do.

Keeping one hand on Nag's ass, he pushed both himself and his partner forward through the battle group. Grabbing the ass of another of his comrades, he pulled them over to the side of the road, holding them almost possessively. Their hands drifted towards his cock, and he groaned as big, green fists wrapped around his cock, so big that both of them were needed to stroke him properly.

A grin slid across his face as he slid a finger into their asses, both of his comrades moaning as he slid a thick digit into their holes. A musical note, disappearing almost as soon as he heard it, confused him for a second, but then he shrugged before getting back to the task at hand.

The other members of the group were splitting off to the other sides of the road as well, breaking off into pairs, though there was another threesome like Azuk's. That was more a sucking game, though, not a dominance game, he thought with a smirk. Not so many points in that.

He blinked. That didn't make sense...Not many points? Not as much point, he meant. Yeah, that's what he meant, Azuk thought as he looked back at his bitches for the day. Continuing to finger one hole, he lined himself up behind the other, slowly pressing his cock against that eager looking hole...

#

A green dragon leaned back from his computer screen, smiling as he watched the scene playing out in front of him. One hand groped at his cock, while the other continued to click at the little icons that he'd hacked into the game. "Heh, wait until the people on the Nexus see this new mod," the dragon muttered under his breath, watching as the orcs on screen continued to obey his commands.

Taking his hand off of the mouse to quickly get a piece of chopped up watermelons nearby, the dragon quickly got back to his fun, bug testing his new mod...extensively.

The end, for now.

_ The Story of the Mystical Cat Horse _

_ Penned at the order of Long Ball Green _

Inija chuckled under her breath as she slipped into the stables, a couple of fingers teasing her whiskers as she'd seen a human tease his mustache one time. "Idiots are so much fun when they're drunk," the Khajiit whispered to herself.

With the brawl going on just outside the inn, she knew that everyone that mattered would be more concerned with dealing with the fight before it got out of hand, or broke something. Nobody would be watching the horses now.

She smiled as she shut the door behind her, looking over the various horses that were half-asleep in their stalls. All of them were on record for a big race in an hour or so, so their owners were letting them rest for a bit. It wasn't a huge event like the ones in the big cities, but for the local lords and minor knights, it was the biggest event, source of entertainment, and source of income for months. And where there was money put on the line, there were those looking to turn a bigger than fair profit.

That was where she came in; one of the sponsors wanted a competitor out of the race, or at least to lose, and wanted it to look natural. Considering that he was riding on a randy stallion that probably hadn't seen a mare in far too long - she knew the man, a miser and one who charged exorbitant fees for studding - that wouldn't be a problem. Those ones were easy to work with.

Inija walked down the stalls with a smile on her face, patting the heads of some of the more awake horses with a paw and helping them get used to her presence. They'd be fine, they were safe, she tried to tell them with the gestures, and it seemed to work.

The horses were of good quality, but the one she eventually stopped at topped them all. His coat was white, and his body was well muscled. Everything about the stallion screamed sleek, shouted speed, and Inija knew from experience that he was just that good.

But she also knew that he had a big weakness.

Smiling as she opened the stall, Inija slipped in. The shirt she wore went off, hanging on top of the stall side, and her skirt followed it shortly after. Without shoes, there was no need for further undressing, and considering what she'd come to do, there was no need to wear anything underneath her skirt.

The stallion whinnied softly as she took his reins, leading him out of the stall, and he snorted as she rubbed his nose lightly. His eyes blinked a few times, and then he huffed sharply, sucking in the air faster through his nose.

Inija knew the signs of a horse reacting to a scent; she'd timed this for her time of the month, when she was putting off a smell not too far off from a horse in heat. She saw the stallion's eyes go wide, and she could see that something quite big was sliding out of the horse's sheath. Oh, he was a big boy, she thought to herself, chuckling slightly at the thought. The Khajiit hadn't had anything this size in some time.

Keeping one hand on his flank as she walked around him, Inija slowly slid underneath the horse. It took her a few fumbling grips to find his cock, but once she had it in her grip, it didn't take long for her to get a handle on it. It throbbed under her fingers, and she gave it a few strokes to encourage it.

There was no time to do more, though, and she was thankful that she was already sopping wet; she had been for days, and was going to be for a few days more. But it would be the one thing that would make taking this horse cock easier.

Turning around, she presented her rear to the horse. Spreading her legs as much as she could, Inija offered her pussy to the horse, knowing that the smell was already having an effect. She heard the huffing, the puffing, and she could feel his cock slapping against her thighs. Suppressing a giggle, she reached back, and guided the almost arm-thick shaft towards her slit.

The moment that it touched her slit, it slipped in, the stallion ramming it in. Inija hit the ground with a grunt, her tail whipping around under the horse as he rammed into her again and again. She could feel that it was never more than half of his cock in her, but even that was massive, drawing grunts past her lips every time he rammed it forward. His heavy balls were hanging low, far low, and slapped against her slightly each time he slid forward.

Just above the sound of the horse fucking her, she heard footsteps. Cursing under her breath, Inija looked towards the door of the stable, just as it opened.

A drunken Nord stepped through, staring at her as he froze in place. He was silent as the stallion continued to ram his way into her pussy, quiet for one, two, three thrusts.

Then he pointed. "Cat horse! Cat horse!" he shouted in a drunken roar.

Any worry about being caught disappeared as the shout was answered with nothing more than laughter, and fear of the Nord disappeared as he fainted dead away. She would have laughed, were it not for the horse finally hitting his climax.

His cock exploded in her pussy, the sheer pressure of the stallion's orgasm almost forcing his cock back out of her. It throbbed, pulsed, and she could feel every spurt of his hot cum sliding deep inside of her body. It made her moan against the ground, and she barely suppressed the urge to ram herself back against him, hoping to fill herself up even more.

He pulled out a second or two later, still drooling cum, and slid towards his stall again. For the moment, he still looked fresh, but Inija had no doubt that he'd be out of it for the race. Her pay was safe.

Getting to her feet with a bit of a wobble in her step, she grabbed her clothes and slung them over her shoulder, walking to a window on the dark side of the inn and leaping out. Cum was falling from her pussy, and she had no doubt someone could follow them if they wanted.

Then again, she doubted anyone would want to follow unless they wanted more fun...and she was still in heat, after all....

The End, for now.

_ The Story of the Khajiit Pearls _

_ Penned at the order of the Board of Proper Magic Use _

It had taken no small amount of courage for Loreziah to make his way to the library after his master disappeared for the week; after all, with all the magic down there, Loreziah was never supposed to go there without permission from the high elf teaching him, and even then, that was only allowed if his teacher went with him. It was too dangerous, he was told, for him to try doing things on his own just yet.

But after several days of being bored, the Khajiit eventually overcame his fear. The need for excitement was always strong in any student, and when combined with the natural curiosity that every member of the Khajiit race carried, it was inevitable that he would find his way into the library. The locks made for poor guardians for the books, and Loreziah soon slipped among the tomes that lined the walls and shelves within the great room.

Torches lit at his approach, and he smiled as he trailed gloved fingers along the spines of the books. His master had given him the gloves to keep him from damaging the books with his claws, and they were much appreciated; they also allowed him to turn the pages a great deal easier, and sped his learning greatly.

There were tomes on daedra summoning, but he left those alone; he saw the books on the theory of magic, but he passed those by; the spellbooks on destructive magic tempted him, but he shook his head before moving on.

Today, he had a different idea of what kind of magic he wanted to try.

While most of the world worked with magic that gave light, hurt enemies, or healed the self, the Altmer had always been experimenting with other kinds of magic. Specifically, they were interested in the modification of living beings through magic. None of the other races tried to follow this sort, because it was so difficult and dangerous, but the Altmer had always been enamored of what magic could do, and could never leave well enough alone.

While they would likely use that magic for some grand purpose - subjugation, liberation, or something else - Loreziah was more interested in other applications. A mage student was often lonely, after all, and they often got...needs. He hoped that he could try to find something that would help him with that.

Eventually, he stopped near some open books deep in the semi-maze that was the library. They were written by hand, and he recognized his master's letters on the page. He sat down at one of the wooden chairs by the desk the books were on, and flipped through some of the pages.

Just a few pages in, and the Khajiit's jaw already dropped. His master had already laid out the theory for a great deal of different spells for modifying one's body, and some of them were...well, very exciting. There were ones for growing any one body part, from one's arm to one's head, and...

Blushing, Loreziah forced himself to read through the spells for growing one's genitalia, both those for females and for males. The latter excited him a great deal more, and he couldn't help but feel like his robes were far too tight for reading this sort of material. The master had even included illustrations for his theories, about how big things might get if done properly.

One spell, for growing ones balls, was amazing. He could see the subject had grown balls twice, even three times normal size, and Loreziah couldn't take his eyes off of them. They looked so...so perfect. So arousing.

He had to try it.

Closing the book, he rushed out of the library, hurrying through the halls back to his chambers. Out of habit, he locked the door behind him before stripping down, throwing his robes into the corner and kneeling down in front of a mirror. His balls dangled the way that most of his species did, an inch, maybe two down, while his sheath pointed up towards his belly. Black and brown fur had different patterns that normally fascinated him, but now, he just wanted to see his balls grow.

Holding the spell book in one hand, he started to read the spell, pronouncing each word carefully before moving on.

When he was only halfway through the spell, he could feel it starting to take effect. A warm, tingling sort of heat began to fill his sac, and he swore he could feel something flowing into it. Panting, he took his eyes from the book to the mirror, taking a quick look at how things were changing.

He almost lost control of the spell while he was looking. Already his balls had swollen to twice their size, hanging down from his crotch about the size of his fist. He had to force himself to look back at the book again, to continue reading.

With each syllable, he felt his balls swell more, some unknown force feeding size and fluid into them; he could feel the extra seed inside sloshing around, dragging his balls lower, and lower. His legs were forced to spread as they got bigger, and bigger, and he had to keep adjusting his weight and position to avoid being tugged down. His sheath let out his cock, and it leaked uncontrollably.

It took seconds for his cock to be at the edge of orgasm, and his legs were spread as wide as they could go from the greater size of his balls. They dragged along the ground, and he panted, squirmed at the slightest touch, knowing that anything could set him off.

Finally, he reached the end of the spell, and the final bit of stretching as his balls added yet another finger-width to their size sent him over the edge. He yowled in pleasure, squirting his seed all over the mirror in front of him, covering it, coating it as he dropped the book and fell onto his back.

He saw stars as he looked up at the ceiling, panting and shaking in pleasure, and already dreaming of doing something else from that book.

But if he'd looked at the book, he'd see an interesting note, penned in the master's handwriting under the spell itself.. "Side effect of spell. Balls will remain at this size unless all fluid expelled within one day." Loreziah hadn't noticed it yet...but eventually he would. And then...

The End, for now.