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Star of the Evening

By Luther

Boris was a wolfhound, an inventor and budget scientist of sorts who, one day in the not-too-distant past, thought he held in his paws the keys to curing the eternal strife of hunger throughout the world.

He didn't.

Instead he wound up creating a machine that was supposed to focus energy into foodstuffs to make them larger and thus food more plentiful. What it actually did was malfunction and spread its effects to himself instead. It was one hell of a night, but the short version of it was that it forced him to grow enormously well-endowed and experience what was likely one of the best orgasms of his lifetime.

Well this obviously warranted further study.

In a way it still worked as intended. The ray would function on only a select few fruits and vegetables, for whatever reason, expanding them to larger, plumper, juicer, and far more delicious versions of themselves. The most amazing thing about the enhanced delectables however, was the effect it had on those who consumed them. They would pass along to the devourer a weaker version of what Boris experienced upon that fateful test run: an almost immediate and most satisfying swelling of that male pride and a rush of sexual energy that could only be described as turning one's self into a dynamo.

So he decided to tell some of his friends about it. They'd come over to sample the wonder-foods which led to a number of messy, fun-filled nights. The gains in size never lasted past the next morning, a thankful thing if one wanted to keep walking. Then others became curious and Boris knew how he could both put a lid on this and fund himself for ages to come.

He rented an old out-of-the-way nightclub and set up a watering hole of sorts that catered to those who enjoyed things on the larger side. It advertised by word of mouth to trusted folks (for he didn't want anyone trying to take his hard work away) and functioned by invitation only. What he got was a sort of growth-based modern day speakeasy. All he had to do was incorporate the ambrosial foods into dishes he'd serve and the entertainment would take care of itself by result. Whatever happened after that was all up to them and some nights it was almost impossible to resist joining in. There was a reason he had plenty of drains put in.

And of course he always gave his immediate friends enormous discounts.

It was amazing what having access to proper money could do. Eventually he was able to make a lesser version of the ray machine that he could wheel across the floor that he would frequently use to give any patrons he took a liking to a little boost in size. He still had yet to develop a version that expanded the female anatomy, though he was working on it. The aphrodisiac effect still remained, and the girls who made their way to his club could still enjoy the show -as well as enjoying the guys who didn't get too carried away.

Sure, every once in a while he would take another crack at solving world hunger with his machine. But this model would not work for that. The ray-grown food, while incredible, seemed to wither or spoil in a matter of hours if not consumed, no matter what he tried to do to preserve them. This machine wouldn't feed the world and until he got lucky and figured it out, he'd need another way to pay the bills. The club was perfect for this. Someone else could worry about world hunger.

Though in the meantime, he enjoyed himself well enough seeing to the needs and desires of his friends and the friends of those friends and so on. But this little story is not about Boris. It is about his club and a particular visitor that came, curious to see what it was about on one Friday night.

Kyle was a jerboa. He would be what a lot of people would call "cute" but to him it just meant "small". At five feet and four inches, he sure wasn't going to win any awards for height and his frame could be described as petite or lithe at best. The enormous ears indicative of his species made everything else on him look even more diminutive by comparison and certainly didn't help the matter. Still, he didn't complain when it got him a free drink or the occasional bout of attention but there were times where he wished he could be more than his size allowed. But it was exactly for this reason that a friend of his suggested he come to this place that Boris ran. He had heard a number of stories and though perhaps it would help him in that respect.

Many people say that food and sex often go hand in hand and here that seemed to be so, mostly because the food was what often caused the sex but whatever. Throughout their meals, people would often grope or give foot jobs to one another under the tables or, when desire finally defeated the last vestiges of modesty, they would move to the "dance" floor and rut like animals to the pounding rhythm. Of course there were always quieter back rooms to retire to, separated with drawn red curtains, if privacy was ever an issue, not that anyone seemed to mind either way.

Yeah, it was that kind of place.

Kyle had some idea what to expect so the nudity wasn't what phased him, it was how much the guys here seemed to be packing, well and truly visible since clothes were expressly forbidden. There were so many monsters here lurking between legs, just within foreskins, or bobbing free of their sheaths in the open for everyone to see. Yes, he heard the stories but one always tends to assume people exaggerate. That didn't seem to be the case here.

Just about everyone present who had meat to sport had somewhere between one to three feet of it bouncing, hanging, throbbing, and pulsating between their legs, sometimes more. And everyone would slowly expand further over the course of the night -and there was still plenty of night left. From time to time Boris would make sure the smallest in the room was given a complimentary something or other from the menu to help them catch up. The cost of food mattered less when you could stretch it out by growing it so much.

It was by this fashion that Kyle found a sampler plate of various appetizers placed in front of him along with the mojito he ordered. "Compliments of the house," the waiter said with a wink. Kyle, not wanting to be rude, picked at them at first before finding their taste positively delicious and digging in earnestly. He kept expecting someone to come by and offer some pill or salve to make him grow like the others. He could have sworn that horse at the next table over was longer and thicker than he was when Kyle first entered. He had no idea that the food was in fact the vehicle for it.

Of course he would eventually discover this but, bite by bite, the morsels were able to sneakily enlarge him. Inch by inch stretched and filled his sheath with an upswell of size and heat that went unnoticed until his shaft slid free into the open air, refusing to be contained. It filled itself to rigidity but that still was not enough as it swelled longer and longer.

The jerboa was unable to ignore himself any longer, feeling the extra pull that the added weight of his manhood brought. He freed a hand to explore below the table and wrap around his increasingly needy shaft. What he found surprised him, definitely heavier than he was used to, far more to encompass, a length that just seemed to keep going. The jerboa wasn't exactly the smallest in that particular department but he was nowhere this big, a solid nine inches as he dared a look under the table. Once the stun of it all wore off his grin might as well have been a mile wide.

Maybe this place wasn't so bad after all!

Boris's private little club did have a singularly interesting feature, an event that happened once a week on Friday nights. Those who experienced or bore witness to it were sworn not to tell new arrivals and spoil the surprise. There was a lottery of sorts. Sometime during the night, a special coaster with a red star printing on the underside would appear. Whoever's drink got the coaster was in for a special treat that night.

You could probably guess who might have gotten the red star on this night.

When Kyle finally reached for his drink, his coaster came up with it, stuck to the bottom as they sometimes do. He moved to peel it off and that was when he spied the little star. He wouldn't have thought anything of it had the person next to him not spotted it as well, who snatched up the coaster and held it into the air, standing up for all to see and pointing down towards Kyle to single him out.

"Looks like someone's got the star!" he said.

Kyle felt his cheeks blush red, wondering why attention was being brought to him. The announcement was soon greeting with a round of clapping. Somewhere, someone even rang a bell amid the cheering and hollering, as if it were needed. Kyle had absolutely no idea what was going on around him as the various waiters and waitresses converged upon him in that similar way they do when someone has a birthday. They coaxed him from his seat and he stood shyly and to the further cheer of those around him. Peer pressure can be a tremendous force to reckon with and the little jerboa just couldn't stand up against it. One of the staff that led him along could see his confusion and spoke near him in raised voice, as to be heard over the din.

"You got the star, honey! That means you get to be -our- star for tonight!" he heard a feminine voice say.

That didn't help him understand much at all. He felt a lot of eyes on him but he had come this far, he wasn't about to disappoint. Across the room, someone was wheeling out what looked to be a cartoonishly over-stylized throne on a mobile platform to meet him somewhere in the middle.

"Have a seat!" he heard someone say.

And so he did, plopping himself down on the bright red velvet of the royal chair that looked like it belonged in a fairy tale. He looked around nervously, wondering what people expected of him.

"Did -did I win something?" Kyle asked timidly.

"Of course! You get desert!" he was told. "Though I'm sure we'll all enjoy it." That second part was more said under the breath, just on the edge of Kyle's hearing, and lost to him in the face of his distraction.

In a flurry of motion, a small table was placed in front of him, then set with silverware, followed by a plate bearing a piece of pie. For some reason everyone was really intent on watching him eat this pie so he just smiled, picked up his fork, and took a sheepish bite. It was a fruit pie most definitely and most sweet as well but the taste was hard to place.

An onrush of flavor greeted him and flowed from the tip of his tongue throughout his body and, somewhat predictably, going straight to his crotch which twitched with a new life and surged larger in concerted effort to redouble in size once more. His fattening nuts spilled over the front of his chair to freedom under the table and more space to slowly fill, his cock hung lower and heavier as it burgeoned with blood, now pulsing at nearly the size of his forearm. He took joy in shifting his hips back and forth just to feel how it would tug and pull at his groin as it lolled from side to side.

It seemed to attract the attention of another. With a bit of a shock, he felt something soft and wet affix to the head of it. He looked under the table to find a most lovely panther girl who had snuck under the table, intent on getting a taste for herself. Her heavy breasts swayed back and forth as repositioned herself on her knees.

"Oh don't mind me," she said, just barely able to pry herself from him long enough. "You just looked so lonely under here."

He certainly did not mind her at all and giggled to himself at the scene of decadence this had become. At another time his modesty might have objected to such a display but this was special and that pie was damn good. In fact it was so delicious that he found it difficult to stop, one bite so effortlessly flowed into the next that the entire thing was reduced to crumbs before he knew it. The pressure he felt on the head of his cock was mounting, the gal's mouth becoming tighter as she could take less and less of his inexorably growing shaft. The time came where she had to surrender to its girth entirely with a little cough and an apologetic smile.

Nobody could fault her though, the head of his manhood was bigger than his fist now. While she alone might not have been enough to handle him, by the way the rest of the room was slowly drawing in around the jerboa, she wouldn't be on her own for long.

As he licked his lips of the last sweet traces, he came to realize that he was expanding even faster now. He could feel it from the incredible pressure and when something cool and flat touched the undersides of his orbs. Was that- was that the sensation of his balls touching the floor?

Good lord, just how big had he gotten?

Kyle gulped at the thought and was about to check under the table when it in fact practically jumped an inch. Now he felt the top of his cock pressing against the underside of what had to be the table. The wild-eyed faces of everyone around him confirmed that he wasn't crazy, the sheer size of his combined endowment had wedged itself between the table and the floor and, as it rose in its continued escalation, was not only lifting the table but threatening to tip it over. A quick-witted patron thought to grab it and pull it out of the way before it was toppled and everything upon it scattered across the floor.

What stood between his legs shocked him. Now liberated from its oppressive confines, his proud pillar of meat catapulted upward to rise at an angle and profile not unlike heavy artillery at a size that rivaled his leg. He watched as the tip glistened with bubbling precum, the first of much, much more beyond ready to escape. Resting below it, spread out across the floor at his feet, and obscuring his legs entirely were the fleshy watermelons that were his balls.

And he sat there in awe of himself, held helpless and captivated by his own enormity and, above all else, absolutely horny. He tried to reach out, no longer heedful of the eyes on him, to stroke himself but could only grasp so far along the base and soon it was clear that he would scarcely be able to properly please himself.

"Have none of you any courtesy?" a collie dog spoke up. "Can't you see he's in dire need? Someone help this poor boy!" he said in a most jovial manner, on the verge of laughter.

As if anyone needed any further prompting. They dove on him as one and crowded around his massive maleness, hands outstretched in reverence as they slid along his length, bathing them in his slippery pre to better glide across the almost rubbery flesh of that truly engorged head and explore the thrumming veins that stood in relief. It was as though their attention itself was intensifying everything. Their touch amplifying every blessed signal to his brain that screamed for more and more from a crowd all too happy to obey.

In a way, Kyle felt like some kind of king lording an obscene scepter over them, all entranced by its apparent power. He could see how their muscles strained to lift or even move his boulder-like balls at this point, they have to genuinely heave now to find any purchase with them. Some worked their entire arms around his pounding meat as it grew along with his pride, unwilling and unable to stop.

He didn't just start an orgy, he was the damn center of it.

Nobody talked now, they all either had their faces buried into his sack or were licking and kissing along his massive, pulsing length. Those who couldn't reach him busied themselves by sucking each other off or stuffing themselves into one other and, even then, only moans and gasping escaped them. But even over the sounds of heated, mindless fucking, one noise rose above them all: the inescapable roiling and churning of his nuts as they produced. They had tripled in size since their revelation, having swollen to monstrous scale and the whole room could hear them gurgling.

A large bull and the panthress from before came alongside him, their hands placed gently on the little jerboa's shoulders and insisting that he lean back. He twitched his whiskers as he looked up innocently at them, eyes big and huge ears folding back a little. He didn't fight them. Kyle was as much under their spell as they were under his. So he found himself reclining and that beast of his was now towering over everyone, including him.

Kyle bit his lower lip as he felt an uprising begin in the depths of his quivering orbs so lavished with attention. His cock wobbled in the air, dripping the fruit of his virility onto them. They sensed he was close and redoubled their efforts. As one, they pumped along it, and it rose and fell above their heads as they worked their entire arms around and along the shaft.

As if they were priming a great pump, up came the backflow and Kyle twisted and shuddered in his seat as he felt sweet orgasm wrack through his body and thick ivory cream erupted from him to fly with such force as to even strike the ceiling. They didn't stop, not when they saw how the wondrous pleasure made his legs shake, not caring when the stuff glopped onto their hair and faces. They simply licked it up and kept going and so did he, pumping and pumping bucketfuls of it, enough to drown those not careful and coat everyone around him within the splash zone to the chorus of orgasms and climaxes around him as the crowd gave in to their needs as well.

One thing was certain, if Boris planned on operating this place like he was then he'd need to put in a call to his contractor about widening the drainpipes. But as far as Kyle was concerned, he would love to become a regular. As his mind drifted in afterglow he dimly thought of the coaster with the star on it, how he hoped in the future he might get it again but certainly hoped that he would be around for when others were so lucky as well.

Here in this place, in this moment, he felt anything but small.