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The Resort

Part II (and a half)

by

Dissident Love

Copyright

December 2013

This story is dedicated to the

awesomeness and glory of

Mister Doug Winger, and

the tremendous influence he's

had not just on the entirety of

the genre, but myself as well.

I probably wouldn't be here

if it wasn't for him.

Not sure whether or not to

thank him or blame him. :)

- - - - -

Author's Note

Author's Profile: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/dissidentlove/

Author's Gallery: http://www.furaffinity.net/gallery/dissidentlove/

The Resort: Part 1: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/9411911/

The Resort: Part 2: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/10401296/

---

It is said that any civilization is three meals away from the end. Deprive a population of food for three meals, and you have anarchy.

Loreli decided the opposite was also likely true. Three meals on Ilsa Calamata, and shi felt like not just a different person, but like shi was, perhaps for the first time, home.

Sally poked at the gazelle's trim tummy and grumbled. "I hate your metabolism," the stocky otter muttered. "You've actually damaged the Island's sushi supply, possibly beyond recovery, and you're still a freakin' model."

Loreli de Seuss and hir Island guide, the vivacious and slightly terrifying Sally, were walking along the downtown boardwalk, enjoying the almost impossibly tropical late-afternoon sun. The slender, delicately-featured gazelle was carrying a black, rectangular plate piled high with assorted maki rolls, periodically popping another one into hir slender muzzle like popcorn. "Just lucky, I guess," shi blushed. "You want one?"

"Urf... no," Sally replied, patting his own belly. "I... urf. I definitely overdosed back there."

"I can't believe they let me leave with a plate!"

"Eh, you're one of the Resort grrls, they know they'll get it back. Or they'll charge your account. Or something. Seriously, where are you putting it all?" Sally glared good-naturedly at his new friend, eyes slowly moving down until they settled on Loreli's tremendous hermness. "Silly question, I guess..."

Sally was far from average, in any regard. One of the primary unofficial rules on the Island was 'don't get too caught up in pronouns', so Sally would respond to he, she, shi, sie, or whatever else you cared to call him. Born a male, he finally found his true self on the Island, and some cunning artifice with silicone turned the sturdily-built hyper into a plush, firm-bodied herm.

Loreli, on the other hand, with hir tiny gymnast's body, was even more disproportionate, fully half of hir body's mass currently stuffed into badly overstretched purple bikini bottoms. Hir golden velvet-like fur contrasted starkly with the dark walnut fluff peeking around the edges of the violet synthetic material, heavy swaying sac easily visible from behind. "What can I say?" shi giggled, munching on another piece. "I need a lot of protein."

"I could make _so_many bad jokes right now," Sally said warningly, adjusting his own well-filled crimson two-piece swimsuit. "You're just lucky I'm so damn ladylike."

"Mmm hmm, that's the first thing I think of when I look at you. Ladylike."

"I will bitch-slap you!"

"Not until we can sell tickets," Loreli winked, observing the amused glances from the crowd around them. "Do you know where we can get a vat of pudding?"

"As a matter of fact..."

Ilsa Calamata was the largest Island in the small mid-oceanic chain, currently claimed by more than a dozen sovereign nations but essentially owned and operated by a reclusive billionaire. Other than tourism they had no real industry, and the indigenous locals were more than happy with their benevolent corporate overlords. The Island's official motto translated roughly to 'Don't Worry, Be Happy', although the copyright infringements were still being settled, both sides claiming prior art.

Synonymous with the name Ilsa Calamata was the Island's primary locale of note, simply referred to as The Resort. Loreli had arrived there the previous morning, leaving behind the mid-winter trappings of hir tiny little mountain town, and was still a little jet-lagged and shell- shocked. The Resort, and indeed Ilsa Calamata itself, was world-famous as being the most liberal and accepting culture, a place where herms, taurs, hypers (and any combinations of those) could live a normal life and find love, in peace.

The tourism, naturally, was heavily related to the oversized inpatriate population.

Eventually Loreli finished off hir take-out sushi. Sally seemed to pull someone off the boardwalk at random and instructed them to bring the plate back to the Wild Scallion; the young raccoonboy seemed almost overjoyed at being selected. They watched him scamper off, glancing back over his shoulder and waving.

"I feel like I'm in some sort of weird hot-body mafia," the gazelle said wonderingly, wishing shi hadn't grown quite so much after purchasing the bikini. Shi found hirself plucking at the fabric, trying to tug it back to cover up hir exposed bits. "Can I, like, commandeer someone's car and say 'Resort business'?"

"Not sure," Sally mused. "I wanna try that now."

Ilsa Calamata had a population in excess of thirty thousand, and only a small portion of that was concentrated at the Resort, but there were definitely some advantages to being employed there. Loreli was discovering that hir keycard worked at virtually every establishment on the Island, and true to their promise shi had three months pay already at hir disposal, which would be hirs to keep no matter hir decision. Shi could choose to work somewhere in the city, get hir own apartment, go to college... but for the time being, shi had a room at the Resort, and an open invitation to work there full-time, just like Sally.

A couple passed by them, arm in arm, and it was pretty obvious even to a newcomer like Loreli that the woman was also a Resort employee. The tall, svelte canine grrl was wearing a floral bikini top and a loose, flowing wrap around hir waist, a popular fashion on the Island for herms. Shi couldn't imagine how many yards of fabric were needed to keep the lady at a PG-13 rating, snugly hugging a collection of bulges that could be comfortably described as beachballs. The older fellow on hir arm, a shaggy goatkin with a goofy grin plastered on his face, was all but being led around by the elbow, unable to take his eyes off of his escort.

"They do look happy," Loreli said softly, watching them pass. "I gotta get me some of those wraps."

"We'll hit that boutique later," Sally said reassuringly, giving the gazelle a friendly pat on the rump. "Seems a shame to cover up legs like yours, though. A lot of the grrls in your, ah, size range are generally built like... like..."

"You?" Loreli grinned, punching the sturdy trans-otter on the shoulder and nearly knocking hirself over.

"Hah, they wish! But yeah, definitely a lot more reinforcing. We've got, like, eight_billion_ dance classes here on the Island, we gotta get you in... uh... all of them."

The gazelle blushed prettily, tugging again at hir bottoms. "Should I shrink down a bit? I'm feeling a little self-conscious right now... and I think people keep pointing at me."

Sally glanced around. "Eh, you're not getting a HUGE amount of staring for a new girl. Nah, you're fine. If anything, I'd say a couple extra gallons might help break the ice."

"I don't need to break any ice yet! No ice breaking!" Loreli laughed, holding up hir hands protectively. "Not interested in... meeting anyone, just yet. I just wanna, you know, settle into life on the Island first."

"Sure, sure! Settle, settle!" Sally said quickly. "But that doesn't mean you can't be friendly."

Friendly, Loreli thought, remembering the offer from The Resort. Not sure how friendly I'm prepared to be...

The otter started to beep, and he fished a surprisingly small cell phone out of his overly ample cleavage. "Awwww, crap, grrl, I gotta go," he said with a pained expression. "I got an appointment with a new arrival."

"Employee, or 'client'?" Loreli asked, trying to keep hir voice purely conversational.

Sally's grin became decidedly naughty. "Client. He's requested me for his last two visits, and I think this might be the time I convince him to stay for good. I think he'd be a lot happier here, as a local... and a girl."

Loreli allowed hir gaze to wander down and up the strange and abundantly dual-gendered otter. "If anyone can make a good case for it, it's you," shi chuckled. "Well, I'll let you go, then. Probably best if I just wander around for a while on my own, all independent and whatnot."

The escort looked doubtful, chewing on the corner of his phone. "You sure? You seem a little zoned out, still. I wouldn't feel right leaving you all alone."

"You can't make the case that this Island paradise is perfection for people like me, and then turn around and tell me I'm not safe without a bodyguard," Loreli pointed out, hands on hir slender hips.

"I'm more worried about everyone else," Sally smirked, poking at the gazelle's wildly disproportionate hermness.

"Ohhh, you hush. Go! Meet your man. Woman. Whatever." Loreli and Sally grinned and hugged, bikini-clad bulges snuggled comfortable together, and waved their goodbyes. Shi watched the overly-loud, overly-friendly otter toddle off, no doubt headed back up the hill to the Resort. "See you soon!"

Shi stood there on the boardwalk for a moment, not really focused on anything. To one side, the busy but not especially crowded beach hummed with laughter and activity, underscored by the steady droning of gentle waves lapping at the shore. On the other, the quaint and tourist-friendly downtown core provided an endless source of goods, services and scantily-clad flesh.

The hypers were still a minority population on the Island, but they were a far larger minority here than anywhere else in the world. Back home, Loreli knew of maybe half a dozen in hir town, most of whom shared the same doctor. Just on this block, however, shi could spot half a dozen hypers sipping iced coffees, window shopping, rollerblading or just leaning against palm trees and yakking with their friends, and shi knew there would be more on the next block, and the block after that, and the block after that...

And the Resort itself, shi thought wonderingly. There had been at least three hundred Resort employees at the commissary that morning, enjoying breakfast. Guys, girls and those peculiar genders in between like hirself, all shapes and sizes. And what sizes...!

Shi patted hirself reassuringly, a small smile spreading on hir lips. So when do I show them what I can really do?

"The sooner, the better," chirped a pleasant voice in hir ear.

"AUGH!" shi cried, spinning around and accidentally smacking a tall, looming figure with hir shopping bag. Shi clutched at hir chest with hir free hand, heart pounding so hard shi feared shi would slip the bonds of hir bikini top.

The towering feline backed up hastily, shielding his head from further assaults of consumerism, but the sparkle in his eye and the easy smile on his stubby muzzle showed no hard feelings. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Sorry, I was just trying to be cute!"

Hir eyes narrowed, and the hugged the bag protectively to hir very modest bosom. "By reading my mind?"

"What?" the caracal blinked, ears twitching. "No, you said 'see you soon' to your grrlfriend there, and I just thought you looked sad to see hir go, and... uh... don't hit me?"

Loreli replayed the last minute back in hir head, and quickly smothered the instinctive urge to kick him in the shins. Instead, shi coaxed the friendly gazelle that shi knew lurked somewhere inside out into the open, and lowered the shopping bag. "And that's why I hit you," shi said primly. "That was a private conversation."

"In your head, apparently," the young man chuckled. "Sorry, I'll leave you three alone."

Despite his tremendous height, Loreli realized he was nearly as proportionally slender as shi was. A sufficiently large green hat high atop his head, and he could have passed for a palm tree. He wore only a pair of baggy red swim trunks, and from the lack of structural reinforcing, and the way he squinted in the bright sunshine, shi assumed he was a tourist and not a local. He turned to go, shrugging apologetically, and shi surprised hirself by reaching out to snag his wrist. "Wait!"

They stood that way for several seconds, amusement spreading on his face. "For...?" he prompted.

"Oh! Uhm... just, wait. You don't need to go, I'm just..." Stop getting flustered, you stupid grrl! You're supposed to be all revered and shit around here! "Can we try that again? Maybe without you whispering in my ear?"

The caracal laughed, his straw-yellow fur almost perfectly matching the nearby beaches. "I'd love to! I'm sure what I meant to say was, 'howdy, my name is Weeks, and I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance'." He stuck out his paw stiffly, straightening his back and rising still higher above hir.

Shi shook the paw that was nearly at hir chin level, blushing slightly. "Acquaintance made," shi said robotically. "Commence shaking."

They laughed together, and strangely enough that seemed to fade them into the collective background; Loreli was almost positive that people were no longer staring strangely at hir. "Well, now that that's out of the way... I don't really know how to follow that up," he snickered, scratching at his long, lanky bleached-blond hair. "I was just trying to be dashing, and... sort of dashed into a brick wall."

"I have that effect on dashing boys," shi smiled, patting his wrist. "And shi isn't... he isn't my grrlfriend. Or boyfriend, technically. He was just showing me around."

Weeks mouthed the word 'he' once or twice, thought about it and nodded. "Gotcha. Pronouns. Go figure, right?"

"I'll get the hang of it eventually," shi agreed. "This is my first day."

"Oh! Are you up at the..." He pointed up the hill, in the general direction of the Resort.

"Just staying there for now," Loreli said hastily. "Until I figure out, you know, what I want to do. I might get a little place down here by the beach. It's a little weird, the thought of living in a hotel. Lacks... uhm..."

"Personality?"

"YES! Thank you!" shi laughed triumphantly. "That's the word I was going for! If I'm going to be living on a tropical Island, I want to soak in all the local flavor."

"First day, but you live here? Wow. I'd say 'let me be the first to welcome you to the Island', but you've probably gotten a couple thousand of those by now, no doubt."

"Eh, not really," shi shrugged, leaning against a nearby palm tree. "Been shopping, looked around a little bit... haven't really spoken to anyone except Sally. I think he scares people off."

"There's a certain intimidation factor there, no doubt," he winked. "But it's a damn shame, if you ask me."

Loreli glanced up, way up, at the friendly giant. "I'm guessing this isn't your first day here, but you probably DON'T live here. Seem pretty young to be here on your own, so either you're damn hell ass rich, or you're here with your parents."

Weeks blinked and nodded. "Clever grrl," he sighed. "Yeah, my folks are... I dunno, they were on the beach when I left to grab some ice cream, and they're not there now. I'll probably meet up with them all for dinner."

The look on his face made plain his opinion of their behaviour, and shi patted his forearm once more. "Old people, eh?" Then shi paused. "Them all?"

"Yeah, they, uhm... are spending their time here with someone," he said, muzzle twisting.

Loreli glanced up the distant hill. "Ah! Well, that's... kind of awesome. I've kinda come around on the whole local business model," shi said, twirling hir hand in the air between them. "It's kind of... sweet. In a way."

"Meh," Weeks shrugged again, shoving his paws in his pockets. "I'm still not used to it. Not the whole Resort thing," he added hastily, "just... my parents doing it. Not 'it', but... oh, cripes..."

Loreli clamped hir tapered muzzle shut as hard as shi could, but a brief trill of snorts and giggles still snuck out. "You look like someone who needs a drink," shi said, struggling to keep hir voice level. "Come on. Let's see how much I can stretch my credit."

Hir credit seemed perfectly acceptable, though shi wasn't sure shi could wipe it out in just one day. As they walked out of the Bean Scene, iced lattes cooling their nerves, Loreli had to marvel that the time between saying goodbye to Sally and making a new friend could be measured in seconds, counting on one hand. Shi knew that the Island was friendly, and shi would never truly be wanting for company, but that seemed a little ridiculous.

Still, shi thought, staring up at hir new companion, things could certainly have turned out worse. Shi was hardly five-foot-six, not counting hir dainty horns, but Weeks was somewhere in excess of seven feet, and shi was pretty sure if he actually ever stopped slouching he'd be damn near eight.

"Ok," shi continued once they were back out in the blazing sunshine, "my turn. Uhm... favorite color."

He gestured to his bathing suit. "Red."

"Damn, waste of a question."

Weeks sipped thoughtfully, eyeing hir up and down, though not in the blatantly sexual way that shi kept expecting. He was strangely polite about it. "Guessing yours is purple, so I won't go for the obvious. Favorite book."

"The Half-Made World," shi said without thinking.

"Really," came the expected dubious reply.

"Yes," shi said defiantly, daring him to question further.

Weeks just shrugged. "Cool," he winked, and Loreli would swear he was trying to hide a grin. "I'll have to look that one up."

They started heading east, keeping the afternoon sun at their backs. Shi had to hustle slightly to keep up with the long-legged feline, and the vast weight snuggled up to hir hips and thighs started to sway dangerously, but shi managed to find a safe rhythm. Hir eyes darted about nervously, but the only people looking hir way were doing so with frank approval and appreciation.

"Your turn," Weeks prompted, glancing down at hir.

"Sorry, just trying not to get left behind," Loreli said, sipping from hir drink and cooling hir throat. "I want to make some point about you playing basketball, or maybe track and field, but that also seems like a waste."

"Call it a freebie: yeah. Both."

"Figures. Ok, need a good one... uhm... who are your parents seeing while they're here?"

That caused the caracal to slow down enough that Loreli could severely reduce the pendulous motions of hir loins. "I think hir name is Absinthe," he said. "You know hir?"

Shi wracked hir brains, thinking back to the Resort Directory television channel that shi had spent several fascinated hours watching that morning. "Oh, oh, oh, I know that name, uhm... fox, green hair?" shi asked, waving hir hands in the air to indicate a very, very improbable figure.

"That's the one."

"Hmmm. Nice," Loreli chuckled, patting the morose cat on the back. "Adventurous! I'm still meeting everyone up there. I'm going to need to carry around a binder to keep track of them all."

"Are they nice?" he asked, suddenly worried. "Like, they're not going to try and rip them off, right?"

"Another waste of a question," shi giggled. "And no. Look... I had that sort of perception when I got here yesterday. Heck, I was still thinking that way at breakfast, but I want you to do what I did."

"What's that?" he asked, suspicious.

"Look around. Look at the couples and triples, and you can probably tell which ones work at the Resort. There's a couple down there on the beach, there's a few on the corner. Here, right here, look into the donut shop. See the lady in line, and the guy just hanging off of hir arm?"

Weeks followed hir directions, taking in the visual feast of flesh and fur. "Yeah..."

"Look at their faces."

"Yeah."

"REALLY look at their faces."

Loreli finished off hir iced latte, and watched the parade of expressions crossing Weeks' face. Aaaaaand... there we go, shi thought triumphantly, seeing the stern muzzle soften. "They all just want to be happy," shi said quietly, nudging his elbow. "That's why people like your parents come here... and that's why people like _me_come here."

Weeks looked at his drink. He looked at the sky. He looked at Loreli's open, earnest face, and then at hir wildly oversized hermness, and then back to the sky.

"Good answer," he said at last, to the gazelle's victorious laughter.

The sky slowly deepened from an impossible azure to a rich scarlet, ringed by a haze of syrupy golden orange as the sun neared the horizon. Loreli and Weeks, loosening up bit by bit, continued to wander around the seemingly endless boardwalks. Every now and then, one of the Resort employees would say hello to hir, either remembering hir from breakfast or just word of mouth. More than half of them were accompanying guests from the Resort, and there was a great deal of good-natured hand-shaking all around.

"You seem awfully well-known," Weeks said after another round of introductions. "And they keep looking at me... funny."

Loreli shrugged, wondering if Sally had managed to keep the gazelle's little secret for longer than three minutes. "Probably just because you're so tall. And I don't think well-known, but they're a tight-knit bunch, and I seem to have been knit into the bunch."

He pointed to the departing figure. "Did shi have-"

"Yeah, four of them."

"Gosh."

"Yup."

"But they were so big..."

Loreli glanced back to where the outrageously-endowed afghan-grrl was wobbling away on the arm of hir goofily-grinning elk partner. The hound's breasts were certainly large, but shi was one of the most bottom-heavy herms shi'd yet seen on the Island, four beachball-sized bulges bouncing softly beneath hir skirts. "Not that big," shi said with a little smile.

"What?"

"Nothing! Nothing. Ok, whose turn was it?"

"Mine," Weeks said slowly, looking back at the ungainly escort one final time. "Ok, this one should be an easy one: favorite Winger grrl."

Loreli frowned, knitting hir brows. "Uhm... Winger. Like, soccer?"

The towering caracal brayed in a very un-feline manner. "No, not quite!" They were halfway down the huge, ornamental driftwood stairway, leading them from a rocky cafe-topped outcropping down to the beach, when he realized that hir pause was meaningfully long. "You're not serious, are you?"

Loreli shrugged and nodded. "Yeah. Is he a writer?"

Weeks just stared. "Winger. Doug Winger. The artist. Fuck, he's probably the reason this place even exists."

Shi shook hir head. "No idea. Name seems familiar, though..."

"Have you heard of the internet, at least?"

Shi backhanded him playfully on the chest, the motion swinging hir body around and accidentally thumping his legs with hir purple-clad sac, dark chestnut fur peeking out around the fringes. "Er... sorry," shi said, adjusting the fabric and smoothing down the long, thick bulge up front. "And yes, smartass, I just don't know this Winger guy."

"You... but you... I mean, you can't... you're so..." For the first time since they met, Weeks actually seemed flustered, bordering on outraged. "Look at you!"

Fists on hips, shi blazed defiantly up at him. The other pedestrians on the stairs, either above them and heading down or below and heading up, noticed the tiny gazelle's posture and wisely retreated. "Look at me_why?_"

Infuriatingly, he didn't even seem to notice hir fury. "Look, we're near Rue d'Onze, right? Come on." He started trotting back up the steps, tail swishing. "No, seriously, come on."

"This better be good," shi grunted, following a safe distance behind him.

"You know, considering your reaction, this is actually really hilariously ironic."

"Oh, I'm feeling the hilarity. I'm feeling it."

Trailing the indignant little herm like a furious meteor, Weeks wound his way through the crowds, only to stop almost immediately at a small, square, unremarkably whitewashed adobe building nestled in between a flower shop and, to Loreli's incredulity, a boutique that seemed to sell only condoms. There pictures in the boutique's window were so eye-catching, advertising quite literally all shapes and sizes, that shi didn't initially notice the little bronze plaque before them until Weeks elbowed hir.

"Ilsa Calamata Museum Of... Acceptance?" shi read quizzically.

"Surprised this wasn't the first place your little otter friend brought you. This was the second place I had to go to."

Loreli paused. "What was the first?"

"Donut shop. It was really early. Here, come on in." He pulled open the heavy wooden door, set with large brass fixtures. It was an oddly parochial style, considering the very laid-back aesthetic the Island seemed to exude. With one final peek at the Prophylactic Emporium, shi followed him into the dark interior of the museum.

"Huh. I guess museums are the same everywhere," shi mused, thankful that there wasn't too much air conditioning. The museum was dimly lit, and the front desk was vacant, save for a box with a note listing the suggested donations. Shi pulled hir keycard out of hir bikini bottoms, causing Weeks' eyebrows to rise, and shi swiped it experimentally through the card reader. It beeped, green lights flashing, and shi shrugged. "I think I donated?"

"Probably. Come on in. It's open twenty-four seven, apparently, and I don't think anyone actually WORKS here. It's just... well, come on, see for yourself."

Passing out of the little lobby and into the first hall, Loreli was startled anew. Shi wasn't sure what shi had been expecting, but it was oddly like the Sports Hall Of Fame shi remembered seeing as a child, only instead of posters and displays featuring star athletes, they featured hypers. Most were fully clothed, posing and smiling for whomever was behind the camera lens, but a notable few were either lifted from medical literature or pornographic websites.

The sign above their heads read 'Hypers Of Modern History'.

"Huh," shi said dully, eyes wide. There was another couple in this hall, a young giggling mink and her orcan boyfriend, but they were heading into the next area, leaving Loreli and Weeks alone. "Very... educational."

"Are you a tough cookie," Weeks chuckled, patting hir shoulder reassuringly. "Ok, yeah, so maybe half the grrls in this room aren't as impressive as you..."

You have no idea, Loreli thought, eyeing up the poster-sized images. "I'm not nearly as photogenic, though."

The caracal scoffed, but said nothing. "Can you believe they tried 'curing' this in the 1800's?" he said instead, gesturing to a black-and-white photograph of a smiling, bright-eyed horsegrrl in an old-fashioned hospital bed, absolutely dwarfed by a picture-filling mound covered with a tarp-like sheet. Two other doctors were in the picture, and shi was positive they seemed to be smirking. "Nina Small. Ever heard of hir?"

"No," shi said wonderingly. "Wish I had." Shi might have given me some ideas... "Which one is Winger?"

"We'll get to him." They walked along, taking in more displays. There were hyper adult models, there were men and women and herms who had suddenly blossomed late in their teens or early twenties, and a few instances of hyperism triggering in young, almost toddler-aged individuals.

"Hey, there's one I know!" Loreli said happily, pointing to a poster of a plump pandagirl wearing a gorgeously formal white dress. It was cut to accommodate her breasts, which were so phenomenally large and full that only the panda's ears were visible above them. She was arm-in-arm with a tall, well-built figure in a tuxedo, though his face was blurred out. "She was voted her school's prom queen last year. Wow, this place is pretty up to date."

"I wonder if she's pretty," Weeks mused, blushing slightly.

"I'm sure the boy thinks so."

"Mmm."

The next room was a look into the much more distant past of hyperism, with several dramatic scale model displays. "The Dr. Royston Charmichael Exhibit," shi read, peeking at a tiny scene where a shockingly well-endowed huskytaur was involved in a pitched battle with an entire village of comparatively tiny coyotes. "Who's that?"

"Some scientist, educator on the mainland. He's big in the scene. Metaphorically," Weeks added. "Did you know any of this stuff?"

"Some of it," shi said softly, walking along, tracing hir fingertips across the glass cases. "I got a couple books out of the library, but they only had little chapters on this sort of thing, and weren't quite so... graphic."

"His book is in the gift shop. You should definitely grab a copy."

"Is Winger in this room?"

"Patience, grasshopper."

The second room was darker, recessed spotlights illuminating the scale models and the densely-worded plaques. Gazelle and caracal drifted closer, walking into the third hall with fur brushing against fur. Once again everything was bright and welcoming, and there was a great deal more variety in the displays, a veritable flea market of exhibitions. Loreli immediately noticed one name printed in large letters on the wall to hir right.

"In Appreciation Of Doug Winger, Artist," shi said a little too loudly, drawing the gaze of the half-dozen other tourists in the room. "Ok, so he's a cartoonist?"

"Well, sort of. That doesn't really do him justice. Here, let me show you some of these."

Shi expected to see vaguely silly pornographic images, and the first few certainly fit the bill. "He's got a bit of a thing for hyper herms, doesn't he?" shi said wryly, giggling at a picture of a very unusually-equipped squirrel-grrl situated near a teacher's desk. "Oh, very classy. I... oh, wow..."

Weeks smiled. "Yeah, I'm definitely a fan of those ones."

"Phase?"

"Phrase."

"Odd name..."

"You're talking to a guy named 'Weeks'..."

"Good point." The skunkette in the pictures was inconsistently sized, varying from between Loreli's current size and... well, some of the images were framed as aerial photos. "Good gods. This guy has a hell of an imagination."

"He's been very influential," Weeks said, sounding like a teacher himself. "He started in the 90's, and his art reached a lot of people. People who might otherwise have never even thought of it."

Shi stared, slack-jawed, at a picture of the inimitable Phrase, who was only partially visible behind the frame-filling, obscenely-swollen rondure of some unnamed and very, very full human female. Shi read the text inserted alongside the image and felt hir bikini bottoms tightening in response. That sparks some memories, shi thought, recalling hir ex-boyfriend from the month before. "And you like this sort of stuff?"

"Are you kidding? Like I said, he's probably half the reason this Island exists. Millions of impressionable people, hitting the internet for the first time, unsure what they liked... and finding this. I mean, look at the Recent History display. As near as the eighties, these people were being treated, like there was something wrong. 'Shi' and 'sie' gained a lot of traction from his work, too. Big step forward for non-binary and hyper rights."

There were more pictures, always more pictures. Dragons, mice, unicorns, canines, felines, bunnies, demons, even humans, and some things Loreli couldn't even identify. There were a great many herms of sizes ranging from fairly typical, to low-grade hypers, to the sorts of dimensions that Loreli both hoped and feared shi could someday reach.

What shi noticed next, more than just the achingly sexual nature of the imagery, was the underlying sense of playfulness. Most pictures involved humorous text bubbles, sarcastic quotations and puns in the bottom corner, or just goofily cartoonish postures and situations. Shi even recognized a few actual cartoon characters from hir childhood, admittedly in slightly more... adult circumstances.

"Oh my," shi murmured, covering hir muzzle in muted shock, enjoying a framed scene of a naughty nurse filling a blue male bunny well beyond the point of ridiculousness.

"I can't believe you haven't heard of him," Weeks said wonderingly, sidling up behind hir but keeping a respectful distance between them. "A, no offense, herm like you... seems like the sort of thing you'd have been exposed to early."

Most of the time I'm probably smaller than you, shi thought, chewing hir lip. Sally knew hir little secret, a few of the other Resort grrls had to by now. What would it hurt telling someone else?

"Why is Phrase a different size in each picture?" shi asked, finding another collection of skunkette pictures, snuggled up between some science-fiction-themed hyper shots.

"That's hir magic," Weeks explained, sounding all too happy to educate the little gazelle. "Shi can just sort of... decide to grow, if shi wants to. Usually just to tease and arouse whoever shi's with."

"You make hir sound real," shi breathed, one hand straying to hir lap, smoothing out another imaginary wrinkle in the fabric.

"Well, to a lot of us fans... they are real. The same characters have been in so many pictures, you get a feel for their personalities. They're playful, they're quirky, and... yeah, maybe a little horny..."

Loreli rubbed hir horns, taking in a series of pictures where a hyper-horse herm as tall as a house was flirting very bluntly to a series of cowboy-themed characters. "Sounds like," shi licked hir lips, trying to resist the urge to give Weeks a show. "So... I guess it's my turn."

"Uhm... what?"

Shi glanced back and up at him, eyes sparkling. "You asked your question, and now we're here. So now it's my turn, and I can toss it right back: who's YOUR favorite Winger girl?"

He inhaled, glancing around nervously, as though fearing the response from the two-dimensional pictures. "Ah, hah. Uhm... that's a tricky one," he said, blushing slightly. "I mean, there's... an awful lot of them, and, you know, you can love different ones for different_reasons..."_

Shi glanced over at the display on the wall behind them, a smaller but no less impressive display of someone named Gideon. "Oh, come on," shi goaded, nudging his bellyfur. "When you're alone in the midnight hour, while your parents are off doing goodness-knows-what with a dye-job vixen, you've gotta be thinking of one of them..."

The look on his face was almost anguished. "I... uh... well..."

"What, are you worried you're going to offend the delicate sensibilities of a Resort grrl?" shi grinned, actually enjoying not being the nervous, tongue-tied victim for once! "I can see the little hearts floating around your head... they've gotta be for someone."

"Can I narrow it down to two?" he begged.

"Fi-i-i-i-ine."

He walked back a few steps, pointing out two pictures in particular. "I don't remember exactly which of his girls I saw first," he said slowly, and Loreli could see the years flashing past in his eyes. "It was a long time ago, but I know the ones that made me stop, and... consider some things."

Shi smiled at the pictures. "And made you wish you were made out of something stretchy, I'm guessing..."

"Ah, hah. Uhm. Yeah," he blushed.

"And this guy is popular, you're saying?"

Weeks nodded vigorously. "You have no idea! Like I said..."

"Yeah, yeah. He's probably half the reason this place exists," shi finished with a wink. "And, yeah, you might be right. The looks on their faces sort of remind me of the people up at the Resort. Well, except for the ones that look terrified..."

"It's a good terror, trust me," the caracal laughed.

"I hope you're right."

"What?"

"Nothing. Come on, I wanna see about getting that book."

It was nearly an hour later when they finally exited through the gift shop, Loreli's mind whirling with images and possibilities. Clutched under one arm was Dr. Carmichael's history text and the Doug Winger biography, and under the other a few poster-sized representations of his artwork. "These are definitely going up in my room," shi was saying, squinting into the sunset.

"I've got that Phrase one at home."

"You told me. Three times."

"Oh, right." Weeks scratched at his sandy mane. "I guess I come off as a bit of a fanboy at times."

"Perfectly understandable, don't worry," Loreli laughed, patting him with the bundle of rolled-up posters. "There's worse things to be fanboyish about."

He nodded. "World Of Warcraft."

"Doctor Who."

"Game Of Thrones."

"Star Trek."

"Firefly."

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa," Loreli growled. "Now you're just being rude."

Weeks laughed, putting a long, lanky arm around hir shoulders, fingertips brushing hir elbow, and starting to walk back down the hill towards the beachfront boardwalk. "I was just testing you," he said. "Browncoat for life."

"Good," shi glared. "I wouldn't want to have to thump you."

The tropical breezes coming off of the horizon carried with them more than just the salty scents of the sea, but also of the hundred restaurants that speckles the entirety of the downtown core. Hir stomach rumbled, and shi sighed. "I swear, all this fancy living is going to be the end of me."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing. Want to get a bite to eat? My treat?"

"Uhm, I guess..."

The gazelle giggled. "I won't twist your arm, don't worry. If you're eager to track down your folks and hang out with them..."

"No no! I'm good! Dinner! Lovely!"

Shi slipped hir own arm around his waist, nestling hirself against the much taller feline. "You seem tense all of a sudden. Are you sure? I think I remember Absinthe's number. I can give hir a call, and we can double-date with your parents.."

"NO!"

"Fi-i-i-ine," shi said again, snorting with the effort of not laughing out loud. "A dinner date, just you and me. If you insist."

"Yeah," Weeks nodded, then blinked. "Wait, what just happened-"

"Nothing! You agreed!"

Slowly, his muzzle spread to mimic the smile already plastered on his new friend's face. "I guess I did, hey? All right, then, little Miss Bossypants, where do you want to eat?"

"Someplace that serves food? I dunno, I've only been here for one day, and all I've eaten is donuts and sushi."

"Ahh, a college grrl," he chuckled.

Eventually they settled on a lovely little italian restaurant, and Loreli was surprised to discover that nearly every menu on the Island was available for picnic-basket takeout. Unable to resist the temptations of the equatorial paradise surrounding them, an hour later caracal and gazelle were hiking breathlessly up one of the many grassy hills around the western curve of the Island. The sky was pure molten ruby on all sides, streaked by ribbons of fuschia and indigo.

The heavily-endowed grrl dropped onto the heavenly little meadow with a grunt, legs forced wide by hir sac, breathing heavily. "Whew," shi gasped. "I need... I need to jog more... out of shape... whoo..."

Weeks, who was clearly in a much better natural shape, had already recovered and was busy unpacking the picnic basket, spreading out a checkered sheet and setting out lightweight dinnerware. "Not sure where you came from, but no-one will mind you going for a jog here."

"Yeah, I've seen some... some bigger grrls here... just bouncing around... whew, I'm good. Pass me a ginger ale..."

The huge feline grinned, handing hir an icy can. "No worries. You'll be a natural here in no time. Oyster Primavera?"

"Yes, please, and don't skimp on the garlic bread."

They sprawled out and picked through the impressive spread, soaking up the last few rays of the day's sunlight. Loreli had to sit somewhat broadside to the horizon in order to see past the beachball-like rise of hir purple bikini bottoms, and was starting to appreciate some of the day-to-day difficulties most hypers had, and how, in many ways, shi was quite lucky.

"You know, you're really lucky," Weeks mumbled, nibbling on a crust.

"You're doing that mind-reading thing again," shi said warily.

"Hmm? Why, what were you thinking of?"

Growing. "Not growing anymore," shi said, which was, from a certain point of view, also the truth. "Why, what were you talking about?"

"Eh, kinda the same thing, I suppose," he mused. "I... I'm sorry, it's probably not polite to be so forward. This place sort of gets to you after a while. I didn't mean to be rude."

Loreli reached up and carefully balanced hir can of pop on one taut, faintly-gurgling teste. "Normally I suppose it would be, but here, and considering the places you've shown me today? Out with it, boy, lest ye feel the back of me hand."

"Ooo, forceful," he leered, moving ever so slightly closer in that slinky manner felines often employed. "Well, yeah, sort of what you were thinking of. Just... well, looking how you do, all slender and delicate and, uhm, you know, dainty-"

"I don't know if I should be offended or not," shi mumbled.

"-which is really, really very fetching," he continued hastily, "it's just probably really easy to be, you know, overshadowed by... all that."

Shi glanced down at hirself and noted the sun's obscured rays. "One might say that I already am pretty well overshadowed," shi pointed out.

"You're too literal," he chided, poking hir with a retractable claw. "No, I just mean, you seem to really suit your size. Not too big, not too small, still able to run and jump and dance and... stuff."

"Hmm? Pardon?" shi giggled, tilting hir head slightly. "You sort of trailed off at the end there. What sort of stuff?"

"Stuff stuff," he said, paying excruciatingly close attention to the ingredients on his own soda.

Oh, how little you know, shi sighed, grabbing at hir own can before hir giggles threatened to send it tumbling down. "Yeah, I guess this is a pretty good size," shi agreed. "Hardly a worthy Winger girl, but I suppose we can't all be so awe-inspiring."

"Hah, he's have drawn you in a heartbeat," Weeks protested. "You saw his girls! There's always something... mischievous about them. Sneaky. That's you in a nutshell."

"I'm sneaky?"

"Ok, not sneaky, but... I dunno. You seem like you've got your secrets. You seem mysterious. And, to be honest, you really don't seem like you're used to your size as it is, so I'm guessing it was a bit of a crazy couple years."

Loreli nodded slowly. "What tipped you off?"

"I watch people. A lot of the grrls here, even the biggest ones, are really good about not, you know, bumping into stuff. They can get through a crowded coffee shop without one X-rated rustle. But you? You thumped into me four or five times just in the museum, and you keep losing your balance whenever you turn around. You ate about three quarters of a picnic basket that should have provided more than enough leftovers, so your metabolism is in crazy batshit high gear. That, and from the way you keep plucking at your bikini you act like you've never worn one before."

Hir eyes narrowed. "You're a pretty good little detective there," shi said softly. "I'm going to have to be a lot more careful around you."

"I didn't mean to offend," he said quietly. "I don't want to pry, I just figured, well... if you want to talk about anything, I'd like to listen."

Loreli stirred hir fork around the paper plate that had recently held dinner. Shi didn't feel hollow anymore, after hir five or six meals of the day. Shi felt recharged... energized. "You didn't offend," shi said at length. "It's just, not many people have known me well enough, or long enough, to figure that sort of stuff out. I guess you could say there's a secret, yeah."

"And that's why you're here at the Island. Apparently staying at the Resort, but not sure if you want to stay there for good, so... invitation?"

Shi nodded. "Sort of. My parents contacted them, explained the situation..."

His eyes widened. "You didn't... like... uhm... do you know what a nunnery is?"

Loreli blinked, and burst out laughing. "No," shi managed when shi cleared the tears from hir eyes, "I didn't get anyone knocked up. Good guess, though! Heh. No, just... small town in the mountains, not the most liberal place in the world, and a grrl like me... well, word gets around."

Weeks gestured to where the volcanic nebula of the sunset was deepening visibly into the realm of indigos, violets and the midnight spectrum that was more felt than seen. "How does this place compare to Podunk?"

The caracal twitched as Loreli's fingers slid lightly down his arm, tracing the curve of one lean but toned bicep. "It has certain advantages," shi purred carefully. "Definitely better scenery."

"Uh. Heh. Ah? Wow. Cool," Weeks stammered, once again excluding hir from his field of vision through sheer willpower. "So. Uhm."

"My goodness," shi said with mock coquettishness, "have I rendered you speechless?"

He shrugged, raking his fingers back through his unruly mop of sandy hair, blazing like ultraviolet glass fibres in the strange twilight. "I dunno about 'speechless', I'm just not sure I can get anything around the foot I've got wedged in there."

Loreli raised one finger, opened hir mouth, and paused. "I could make a _really_awful joke right now," shi said meaningfully.

"I'll bet you could," he grinned, extending his own arm to tousle hir hair, a jaunty bob of tawny orange fringed with black. "You're allowed to, though. Er... allowed to make jokes like that, I mean, not, like... uhm... well, I guess you ARE allowed to do that, too, just... uhm..."

"You," shi husked, leaning closer, "really need to learn when to shut up."

"I know," he mumbled. "I was just trying tommmph!"

Loreli was not the most experienced kisser in the world. Shi had gotten to first-and-a-half base with one of hir oldest friends back home, plump and big-eyed Kitrina, and several memorable nights in the embrace of hir sort-of boyfriend Jay, but nowhere near the amount of practice that shi'd have preferred. Inside, shi was just happy that hir aim was true, hir petite muzzle coming to rest against Weeks' lips. Shi could feel his whiskers twitching with... what? Terror? Arousal? Both?

The breeze changed direction around them, flowing back down the mountainside, through the lush jungles and out to sea. The scents of countless exotic flowers filled the grassy meadow, and the young gazelle would swear shi could feel the sunset's impossible spectrum on hir skin. Can I just stay like this forever? Can it always be like this?

"Yeah," he breathed, not pulling away, tilting his head to press his forehead against hirs.

Shi blinked. "Ok, no more mind-reading. I mean it this time."

"I just meant, the whole shutting up thing," he smiled, petting the back of hir head and tugging hir slightly closer. "That's always been my problem, I tend to motormouth when I should be mmmph!"

"Sorry," shi gasped some time later, staring down at him with evil delight in hir eyes. "That was terribly rude of me. You were saying?"

Weeks blinked repeatedly, trying to uncross his eyes. "N... nothing," he managed, resting his paws easily on hir hips. "I guess you can move fast, when you want to."

"Cat-like grace, that's me," shi giggled. "That's me."

Hir long legs straddled his waist, hir lean body curved over the vast bulk of hir nethers. Shi gripped his shoulders, pulling hirself closer and hoisting hir rump into the air, almost balancing atop hir faintly sloshing sac. "Let me know if this is uncomfortable," shi purred, smooching at his jaw. "I know you're probably not used to the weight."

"I'm good," he wheezed, the fluttering of his abs gently shaking Loreli up and down. "No problems here!"

"Think this is ever a problem the Winger girls have?" shi mused, nuzzling his throat. "Accidentally smooshing their lovers?"

"I'm sure with them, it's no accident," he said, hesitantly moving his hands from hir hips to the considerably wider swells of hir balls, fur separated only by an increasingly-thin layer of purple fabric. "I don't think you're in any danger of smooshing me, though."

"Oh, you shouldn't have said that," shi spoke into his ear in a low, intimate voice.

"Why?" he asked, possibly foolishly. His heart leapt and plummeted, feeling Loreli's bikini becoming ever so slightly tighter. "You're not a grower, are you?"

"Not the way you're probably thinking," shi winked, leaning back slightly and settling hir rump onto his hips. "I'm probably not sultry enough to be a Winger girl, but I can certainly give it my best shot."

"What do you mean?" Weeks asked, eyes widening in alarm. "Are you ok? Why are you holding your breath? Loreli? What are... oh... oh.... oh my gods..."

Tiny fists clenched, Loreli was lost in hir imagination, picturing hirself in hir mind's eye, changing bit by bit. Control, shi thought to hirself, over and over. Control. Control. Know when to stop. Know when to stop.

Loreli had learned the hard way that hir peculiar gift was far easier to turn on than it was to turn off. There was always that little voice in the back of hir mind saying "Mmmm, doesn't that feel good? Come on, you can go a little longer... a little bigger... a little fuller... you don't want to stop now, do you? You can keep going..."

Weeks stared up at the precious, gorgeous gazelle perched on his hips, wondering if perhaps he'd died somewhere in the museum and was experiencing some peculiar antechamber of the afterlife. The look of furious concentration on hir face had been briefly alarming, hir lips curled in a strained grimace, but the little pants and mewls that escaped hir muzzle bespoke the sorts of pleasures he'd only dreamed about.

As the weight against his belly started to increase well beyond the levels he'd expect even from such a well-proportioned hyper, several other things he'd only dreamed about filled his vision.

The purple bikini bottoms made tortured noises as they reached their ultimate limits, little holes appearing and stretching into long, jagged streaks of walnut-brown fur. His paws sank into hir swelling flesh, pumpkin-sized balls doubling in size in mere seconds, and with a high, tinny 'twang' the last remnants of the bikini bottoms vanished, leaving hir hermness fully exposed to the warm, moist early evening air.

"L-Loreli?" he mumbled through numb lips, watching those swelling orbs rolling forwards, pressing against his ribcage now. He saw shi was sheathless, a heavy and noticeably equine shaft draped artfully over hir sac, the twitching flare hanging mere inches above his sternum. It was as big around as his thigh, and moment by moment it grew longer and thicker and ever so slightly fuller. Reverently he caressed the chocolatey-brown, glossy flesh, feeling the veins just below the surface bulging with desire. "Hello?"

He winced, the weight really starting to make it difficult to breathe. He could only see hir delightfully modest bust above the rising landscape of hir maleness, face still locked in a mixture of effort and ecstasy. Shi was easily as big as any grrl he'd seen on the Island so far, possibly barring some of the larger taurs, and considering hir elfin figure shi was now certainly the most dramatically endowed.

His arms were now completely filled with hir dense, velvety balls, twin spheres larger than most major household appliances, hir shaft now beginning to angle out slightly as it plumped and strained with blood. He inhaled as deeply as he could, knowing that if shi kept growing he was going to have to make that lungful last.

"Loreli!" he gasped, shifting his hips beneath hir, tail flailing frantically behind hir.

It took him a moment to realize that the weight had stopped, or at least slowed considerably, and Loreli was now panting and purring. Hir tiny hooves squeezed his hips, and hir hands soon joined them, as that was now the only portion of his anatomy that shi could reach. "Weeks?" shi called weakly. "Are you ok?"

His jaw moved, but no sound came out. His entire world had been replaced by the wildly improbable splendor of the hyper-herm pinning his body to the soft, warm grass, utterly captivated by the vision of hir growing arousal. Staring up with puppyish adoration at the underside of hir shaft, he watched it twitch and harden, inch by inch beyond the tops of his tufted ears.

"Weeks?" Shi sounded nearly alarmed now.

He reached up, reverently stroking the silken flesh of hir cock, and hir entire body spasmed at the touch, hir equine column pushing forwards another foot in one great surge. "Oh, you are still down there!" shi snickered, slumping forwards against hirself, insides quivering with the effort of stopping. "I guess I taught you to shut up a little too well..."

"I'm good," he winced, wriggling his toes to stave off the spreading tingling. "I'm... sweet merciful angels, is this really you?"

"Big as life," she cooed. "Your very own Winger grrl."

His fingertips couldn't reach the flared tip of hir shaft anymore, and against all physical logic shi still seemed to be growing harder, veins standing out in stark relief beneath tense, overstretched flesh. "The Resort is lucky to have you," he murmured. "And... so am I..."

"You don't have me yet, big boy." He couldn't see hir anymore, his vision utterly filled by hir nethers, but he could feel hir body shifting and swaying as shi changed positions. "Hold on, I just need to... unf... save you from myself... unf..."

His eyes widened and he squeaked in alarm as shi seemed to press forwards, fuzzy and gurgling seed-tanks rolling over his chest and nearly up to his neck, but as quickly as the tidal wave of flesh advanced, it retreated. Heavy thumps shook the ground, rattling the forgotten picnicware, as Loreli stood up on hir deceptively delicate hooves and took a small step to the side. Hir balls flattened the grass like a steamroller as shi dragged hirself back, freeing Weeks from his heavenly prison.

The dainty gazelle chewed a fingertip, hir other hand stroking the base of a cock that was easily thicker through than hir torso. "I should have taken off my bikini bottoms," shi pouted. "Oh well, I guess I still have my skirt in the shopping bag... wherever it went."

Weeks sat up, mind still reeling from the last few minutes. "Yeah, there's a definite... resemblance now between you and some of Winger's favorites," he said, awestruck. "Holy hell, I... hmmm, I think you crushed the picnic basket."

Loreli winced. "Yeah, I think it's under lefty," shi giggled, patting one slowly-expanding orb. "Sorry. I don't think I'll get my deposit back."

He stood unsteadily, towering over hir once again and far more able to appreciate the phenomenal scale shi had acquired. His jaw dropped once again, and Loreli blushed. "You keep staring at me like that," shi demurred, "I'm going to start thinking you like me."

"Fwuh," he nodded in agreement. He took a hesitant step forwards, but even with his legs pressing luxuriantly against hir sac he couldn't quite get close enough to embrace hir. He rest his paws against hir medial ring, feeling it throb potently, as though yearning to swell larger still and only being restrained by the barest of denials.

Shi stretched hir arms high overhead, twisting once. "Mmmm, that's a workout for the ol' back, let me tell you," shi winked, leaning forwards over hir shaft like a starlet sprawled out on the hood of a sportscar. "I wonder how many people can see us right now."

They both looked around, and sure enough the lights of Ilsa Calamata lit up the Island like a million brilliant jewels. The hilly meadow was one of a dozen at this end of the landmass, and the beaches below were just as busy now that the sun had gone down, if not busier. "Anyone with a zoom lens," Weeks laughed. "If that was your secret, I think the secret's out."

"Fuck it," Loreli said dismissively. "It's been a secret for too long. Mmmmm, rub right there..."

He knelt slightly, slipping one hand beneath while his other massaged the top, stroking as best as he could manage. It was difficult to properly stroke something as big around as a hot water tank and twice as long, but he was certainly going to give it his best try. "I definitely have to send Winger a thank-you card in the morning," he purred, pressing his muzzle to hir drum-tight skin, nuzzling lovingly at a vein nearly as big as his wrist.

"I can't help but feel a little miffed that you're thinking about another man at a time like this," Loreli snickered, hir tiny hands moving over hir sac, feeling that velvety fur tightening as shi filled with seed.

"Well, if it wasn't for him, I'd probably be running away right now," he pointed out.

"Good point," shi conceded. Shi shifted hir weight again, the sheer volume of hir balls bringing tremendous pressure against hir legs. "Mmmm, I need to... erf, get a little more comfortable..."

"Oh! Of course!" Weeks said, springing to his feet. "Can I help?"

"No, I got it, I got it... uhm... damn, I think I got too big to do this myself. Actually, grab my hands..."

Weeks obliged, twining his fingers in hirs and planting his feet. "Like this?"

"Yeah, perfect. Unf... hold on..."

With surprising grace considering the vast dimensions of hir hermness, shi swung one leg forwards over hir sac, and then the other, almost sliding down the fuzzy slope on the other side. Shi wobbled unsteadily, hir balls now tucked behind hir legs and snuggled up to hir rump, thighs spread wide to straddle the horselike girth of hir shaft. "Do you mind if I... uhm... get a little bigger?" shi asked, leaning against Weeks for support.

"You can get bigger?" he said in a strangled voice, wrapping his arms around hir body, hugging hir tight. Shi was maybe five and a half feet tall to the tops of hir little horns, and he guessed hir to be nearly twice that long already!

Shi nodded. "Yeah, it's just kinda hard to balance like this. Come closer," shi said softly, tugging him towards hir. "Snuggle up behind me."

Weeks felt like a distant observer, no longer in control of his own body. He allowed himself to be guided, sidling up to Loreli's side and mimicking hir own recent motions, lifting his leg and swinging it around behind hir. With excruciating slowness he lowered himself, knowing just how tender and sensitive these portions of hir body could be. "Like this?" he asked hoarsely.

"Oh, get down here," shi chuckled, wriggling hir hips and pulling his arms around hir waist. "I'm not going to break like some sort of china doll..."

His hips were pressed between hir colossal foalmakers and hir tight little rump, his own legs parted wide alongside hirs. He hugged hir from behind, gingerly at first, and then more passionately when he realized that shi was more than capable of handling his weight. His tail was pinned to his back by hir balls, and he found that each time he twitched it they churned in response. "Wow," he moaned, kissing the top of hir head between hir horns before looking between them and seeing hir shaft stretching out before them. "You're just... perfect..."

A petite hand stole between his lower belly and hir lower back, slipping easily down the front of his surf shorts. His body stiffened, certain parts much more than others, as hir fingers encircled him and squeezed. "You're not so bad yourself," shi said, leaning slightly to the side and tilting hir head, kissing his chin. "Are you ready?"

"Re... ready... ready for...?"

"All righty, then," shi giggled, taking a deep breath.

His ears filled with the faint sound of rumbling and the rippling squawk of stretching latex. Hir body tensed in his arms, one of hir hands digging into his wrist as hir other clamped down hard on his own modest erection. He gasped, nearly finishing then and there, and for years he considered it a miracle that he lasted as long as he did.

Hir balls rose magnificently behind him, filling out as though hooked up to a firehose, pressing the hapless caracal tighter against the svelte gazelle. He couldn't begin to guess how much they held, but from the way their surface gradually became less pillowy and more taut, he knew they weren't even remotely close to full.

"Are you-" he started to ask, kissing hir ear, when he realized shi was slowly rising up in his embrace. Hir legs pressed outwards, pushing his own legs to either side as hir cock swelled. A low but all-encompassing rustling sound reached him, the sound of hir flesh pushing forwards against the silky grass, so thick now that hir hooves were only barely touching the ground.

And a moment later, they weren't.

Shi really is a Winger grrl, he thought, losing himself in the avalanche of almost unimaginable sensations surrounding him. His hands slipped from hir waist down to the broad, steel-hard base of hir shaft, kneading the resilient flesh. He had lost count of how many nights he'd drifted off to sleep, wishing he had someone this exquisite to share his bed, and now he was all but trapped by one that put so many of them to shame.

He mewled in surprise when the rising mound of hir cock pressed urgently against his tail, starting to lift his own toes off of the meadow.

"Loreli," he purred into hir ear, clutching at the absurdly hyper, and still growing, herm. "I think you can stop now."

The only response was a straining, churning sound from hir balls, walnut-brown fur thinning as they ballooned ever larger.

"Loreli?"

Throbbing in time with hir heartbeat, shi continued to expand. His hips twinged as his thighs were forced apart, hir sac pressing against his upper back and now rising higher than his head. A noise like a sail unfurling reverberated through the clearing, and he could see over hir shoulder the thick, twisting veins of hir cock bloating alarmingly.

"Loreli!"

Unnoticed over the fleshy chorus of hir growth, the dainty gazelle mumbled under hir breath. "Mmmm, doesn't that feel good? Come on, you can go a little longer... a little bigger... a little fuller... you don't want to stop now, do you? You can keep going..."

---

Epilogue

Weeks let himself into the Resort unit that he and his family had reserved for the duration of their star. It was very early in the morning, and he'd not passed many other guests on his way back up to the Resort, and almost none once he was safely inside its walls.

His eyes were dark and droopy. His tail hung limp behind him. His surf shorts were ripped down the front, and it took one carefully-arranged paw to keep them closed. More than one person spotted him on his long trek back down to the boardwalks, and then back up to the Resort, and recognized the blissfully shell-shocked expression on his face.

Word was spreading quickly around the Island, though. Weeks dropped bonelessly onto the immense, overstuffed couch that dominated the centre of the rented living room, endlessly replaying the nights events in his mind.

"Next time," he mumbled, scratching at his whiskers and stifling a yawn. "Next time... we're gonna see if'm stretchy..."

There was a polite beeping from one of the unit's two bedrooms, and moments later a staggeringly well-built vixen stepped through, tugging a yellow silk bathrobe around hir body. Shi was incredibly top-heavy as well as bottom-heavy, but in the ranks of the Resort's hyper-herms, shi was only slightly above average.

Absinthe stared at hir little smartphone, rubbing sleep out of one eye and accidentally letting the bathrobe fall open. "Wow," shi whispered, flicking through the flurry of messages shi'd received the night before. "That's intense!"

"Morning," Weeks called weakly, flopping sideways onto the cushions and stretching out.

Absinthe squeaked, but recovered almost instantly and waved back. "Morning, Weeks!" shi chirped, tugging the door shut behind hir, so as not to scar the poor boy with the sight of his parents recovering in their bed. As pleased as shi was to see him, hir eyes remained locked on hir phone. "You're up early!"

"Up late, actually," he muttered, not bothering to try and stop the next bout of yawns. "Long... long night."

The green-haired fox's eyes widened, and hir bathrobe plumped out and began to tent slightly up front, when shi scrolled down to some attached images. "Oh, holy hell," shi breathed. "Someone had a longer night than you!"

Shi peered closer at the image, and the tawny figure situated just behind the fantastically- endowed, and still growing, gazelle. "Wait... Weeks... where were you last night?"

The only response was a contented snore from the couch.

Shi zoomed in closer on the image, and sure enough, just barely visible in some of the shots, were the caracal's red shorts. Towards the end of the messages, some of the more recent pictures snapped only an hour before showed a progressively less-hung grrl, soon hardly more than normal-sized, and the much-taller feeline snuggling up to hir from behind.

In the final photo, Weeks and Loreli were posing, and actually signing autographs.

"Wow," Abstine purred as shi let hirself back into the married couple's suite, suddenly in the mood for some friskiness. "Welcome to the Resort."