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Mike grumbled the whole way to the theater, but that was nothing new. He’d grumbled about them choosing Las Vegas for the trip, grumbled about it being just a guy’s weekend and grumbled about how lame stage magic was. Rodney wasn’t going to let it get to him, though. This was supposed to be the most awe-inducing live magic act around, and anything was better than the hunting trip they’d have taken if Mike had gotten his way. Daryl wasn’t saying much, but Rodney could tell from how tight his friend gripped the wheel as he navigated the traffic snarl of the Vegas Strip that he was excited.

Fennec was supposed to have the best stage makeup, and while Daryl and Rodney hadn’t told Mike about it, they were both very much closeted furries. Getting to see the anthro magician up close would be incredible and totally worth the ball-busting fee the tickets had cost. It wasn’t like Mike wasn’t going to get completely trashed anyway.

The boys joined the throng of people heading to the entryway under the banner: Fennec the Mystic! Hypnotism with Bite! The suave fox smiling demurely in his three-piece suit and beckoning them in, a hint of mischievous glee in his eye. The three skinny men took their places in the front row and ordered their drinks, getting them just before the stage lights began to dim. Mike chugged his quickly, a bored expression cemented on his face. “Well, fuck you then. I’m going to have fun,” Rodney though.

A low synthesizer soundscape burbled from the sound system as Fennec strolled nonchalantly on stage. Tall, wearing a sharp blue three-piece pinstripe and a playful grin. They were right beneath him when he came to a stop at the edge center stage. Rodney and Daryl stared transfixed. The hypnotist was razor-thin, his long black hair slicked back and shining like oil. They were close enough to see every hair of his fur, and Rodney marveled. There was no way it could be a costume, just no way. This wasn’t the faux fur his fursuit was made of. This man had real fur. This man was a living anthro animal. Maybe he was a trickster god?

Fennec looked down directly into Rodney’s eyes when the thought flashed in his head, and he felt a chill run down his spine. And he liked it.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and all the assorted members of the varied and beautiful human race!” Fennec said in a voice impossibly deep and resonant for a man (a fox?) so thin. “The mind is the greatest enigma in the universe. It generates our consciousness and creates identities independent from our physical reality. With imagination it can take us to places and allow us to experience sensations that are beyond the understanding of technical study. And tonight, you are in the presence of a master of the human mind. Rise!”

The magician swept his arms upward with great enthusiasm, and the three friends felt themselves jump up out of their seats along with every audience member in the crowded theater. “Excellent!” Fennec boomed. “Life is short, so let’s dance!” He began to wave his hands in the delicate motions of a symphony conductor, and Rodney found himself popping and locking like one of the professionals he’d seen on stage at the shows around town. He gracefully bent and shimmied, and when he looked over at Mike he could see his friend smiling broadly. Probably partly due to the drink, but he hoped his friend was having fun.

Finally, Fennec brought them to a stop and waved them into their seats. He fixed his gaze directly on Rodney before saying “the loss of control can be terrifying, but I assure you fine people it is all in the spirit of fun. And you signed the waivers, so the real villains here are the lawyers!” The audience laughed long enough for Daryl to finish the rest of his drink. “Now, I am not merely a cheap manipulator of the mind. I enjoy freeing the body as well. The human form is beautiful, but with so many other wonderful styles to choose from why limit yourself? Who among you would like to live on the wild side?”

Rodney would have unashamedly leapt to the stage, but he felt himself rising of his own accord. He turned his head and saw his friends rise to either side as well, and they filed in orderly silence onto the stage to stand before the tall, lanky fox. “My my, what specimens!” Fennec said, and winked at the audience. “But these fine young men look so thin, so… fragile in their human forms. Let me liberate you of your burden, my boys!”

He strode to Daryl, shortest of the group, and ruffled his hair. He stepped up immediately behind Rodney and as he reached to place his hand on the thin, quivering man’s head Rodney got a whiff of Fennec’s scent. He smelled like rye whiskey and roses. It was wonderful, earthy and sweet. He felt the magician’s touch rub his gelled hair to a mess, but he turned when he heard Daryl panting.

His friend was getting harrier. Furrier. His arm and leg hair was sprouting wildly, growing blonde in color and becoming a thick carpet over his skin. His fingernails were darkening and growing to points, and his fingers, while still opposable enough to do any ask required of them, were becoming stouter and were developing thick black pads on their underside. His nose was growing longer and longer, becoming dark and wet at the end. His ears lengthened and began to grow to a point, and slid up the sides of his head toward the top of his skull. He seemed to be in no pain, but his wild-eyed surprise spoke volumes. And there was no way to put it but that his skinny friend was becoming fatter. His gut pushed out and strained the tight fabric of his polo. His now-furry legs were thickening until they looked shaped by inactivity and a passion for snacking.

And then Rodney felt warmth crawling under his own skin, and felt himself being pulled toward the floor as though gravity had been turned up. He looked at his arms, and lo: he was sprouting a thick layer of brown fur like his friend. His muscles were beginning to bulge, but a layer of fat was blooming atop his new physique. His fingernails grew, but they were wicked sharp and long as knives; they looked like they could shred a car door. And he was growing taller! He could now look down authoritatively on Daryl.

His jaw popped as it lengthened and his teeth grew to points that could rend flesh from the stoutest of bodies. And he was getting downright fat. The buttons on his shirt were straining as his belly surged as though fed by years of pies and bacon condensed into a single, warm moment. He must have gown an extra hundred pounds on top of all the muscle.

Daryl had finished his transformation and was removing his tight clothes to reveal a chubby, anthro Shiba Inu. He was grinning and lolling his tongue, checking out his plump new body all around.

Rodney heard his clothes rip and felt the pressure release from his body. Fur-covered fat sagged loose, free from its prison, and Rodney stood before the audience a great fat anthro bear, his belly hanging out over his pelvis a good five inches and love handles drooping from his sides. Fat had pillowed his face, and he licked his sharp new teeth. He felt good. Big, powerful and heavy. Then he heard Mike scream.

He wasn’t thickening, he was swelling. Bloating. Surging with fat at an alarming rate as it filled out his cheeks and his top lip pushed out and out, his nose widening and flattening and growing down to sit just atop his lip. His hips spread and spread and his ass swelled, blowing through his pants in seconds. His belly distended and shredded his t-shirt, rolling forward so far it rested just above his knees. His skin was turning an ashen grey and his body hair was becoming stout and bristly. His fingers shortened and fattened, and his middle swelled and grew out with his hips. He was so fat his flabby arms were pushed out to his sides by his bulky rolls. His eyes slid closer together and sunk into his face, beady points of blue that Rodney couldn’t help chuckle as they were so befitting his surly friend.

On stage were a chubby Shiba Inu, a fat grizzly bear and an immensely obese hippo. Though they were now tipping the scales considerably above their former weights, Daryl and Rodney eyed one another with glee. They were real flesh and blood furries! Mike was making distressed noises not unlike a malfunctioning car, but he was at least holding it all together for the time being. Fennec’s voice boomed out to the crowd from the side of the stage.

“And it’s not merely the hair or the snout that is magical, but the ability to give in to those powerful, ancient desires as the wild world around us does. To sate our hunger!” He waved his hand casually at Rodney, and he felt his gut burble. Long, low rumbles and gurgles emanated from his belly. Suddenly, the chunky Shiba Inu looked… delectable.

“I assure you, fine spectators, they will all be unharmed by what you are about to witness,” Fennec said demurely. “But it’s not a show without a little thrill!”

Rodney clasped his short friend firmly by the shoulders and lofted him above his head. “Sorry man, but I’ve got a weird feeling this’ll all work out.” Daryl’s expression didn’t betray confidence at this notion, but before he could reply Rodney had stuffed his face into his ursine mouth. He felt his jaw stretch and stretch and tried not to think about what his bones might be going through as he walked his hands up the Shiba’s sides, forcing him deeper and deeper down his throat. His friend wasn’t exactly fat, but he was pudgy enough that Rodney’s throat distended and his lips flared trying to accommodate his meal. He felt Daryl folding himself into a curling position as he slid into his belly, and his gut stretched magnificently to accommodate his friend. Daryl’s flabby middle slipped between his lips and his esophagus strained as though he was a boa swallowing a pig.

He finally forced his friend’s feet down, running his rough tongue over the dog’s rough foot pads as he did so, and hearing his friend giggle from the tickling deep in his stomach. With a final gulp his friend was deep inside, curled safe and warm within him. His already fat belly distended beautifully, glorping and sloshing as Daryl adjusted himself inside to be more comfortable.

“But this is not the natural world, good people,” Fennec announced, waving now at Rodney. “And sometimes the predator becomes the prey.

“Dude, don’t take this personally,” Mike said as he grabbed Rodney by the arms, “but all the sudden I’m fucking starving.”

With an impossible strength Mike, all 900 pounds of him, lifted the fat distended bear and began cramming him face first into his maw. Rodney could feel his friend’s two giant buck teeth scraping his fur as he began to slide into the long, wet tunnel of Mike’s esophagus. It felt kind of like a slow, slimy water slide.

“Actually not too unpleasant,” Rodney though as the walls of Mike’s throat squeezed him gently on the way down.

Mike pushed and pushed, forcing his friend gently but surely into his gut. His enormous hippo mouth stretched and stretched to admit the bear’s broad shoulders and his neck stretched almost as wide as his own chest. He sucked and slurped on Rodney’s vore-stuffed belly, pushing with all his might to force him in. He could feel Rodney curling up into the fetal position as he inched inside of the hippo’s massive gut, and the great rolls of rolling doughy flab already encasing his middle strained and stretched as the great, fat, stuffed meal slid within him one bit as a time. Soon he was at the feet and then, with one forceful swallow Rodney disappeared fully inside him.

Mike flopped heavily onto his ass on stage, and the building shook with his seating. He was enormous, flabby and swollen with both his friends inside him. His groaning grey belly pushed out to the size of a small car before him, churning and jiggling with his mates inside enjoying being nestled in the warm damp. Mike let loose a massive belch and his head lolled weakly, too stunned from fullness to notice the magician sneaking up behind him.

“And what would a show be without a finale, good people of the audience?” Fennec boomed as he placed his slim hands gently on Mike’s shoulders. “One last impossibility to boggle your minds. Behold!”

Mike heard the fox’s jaw snap slightly as it opened. He felt the tongue on the back of his head. His only clear impression at that moment was that it felt rather nice.

Fennec lifted himself into a gymnast’s hand stand on Mike’s shoulders and began to lower himself, taking in the hippo head-first. His bones crackled as they shifted to accommodate the several-ton turducken of the three friends and his cheeks strained to wrap around the bristle-haired crown of Mike’s skull. Like a circus showman hand-walking a set of parallel bars he walked his way down Mike’s shoulders, then his arms. His face and throat stretched like a soft rubber casting of a fox. His suit shredded, leaving his ruddy fur shining under the stage lights. The magician’s entire skinny form seemed to be wrapping around the hippo as much as swallowing him, and though his skin creaked and groaned with the strain of fitting in his meal he held together. His skinny arms hung absurdly from his stretched-out frame, his trunk quickly becoming gigantic as he worked in Mike’s shoulders, then his flabby pecs, and finally on to the belly. Fennec was now crawling forward, scrabbling his claws against the stage in an attempt to pull himself forward over the massive three-fur gut. He sucked loudly, using air pressure and dedication to push the jiggling grey mass inside himself one inch at a time. Slowly, slowly, he forced the massive belly along with Mike’s fat trunk-like legs inside his mouth.

The audience sat in rapt silence, unsure if they should run or protest or clap. His gaze swept the crowd, and everyone felt an odd, certain calm that he would correct their fears in the end. Finally he swallowed the hippo’s pudgy feet and the last of the absurdly huge bulge traveled down his distended throat and into his gurgling, immense belly.

He was a great reddish wine sack with three beings nestled happily inside him. He bulged in odd places around his stretched-taught frame indicating rather clearly where his thin fox physique was inadequate to fully contain the massive beings inside him.

“Rest assured, ladies and gentlemen, they will all be released unharmed shortly, but let’s let them take a moment to enjoy the soft confines of the inside of a body. It is, after all, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And also, to be honest, I’m rather drained after such a display.”

For a brief moment there was silence punctuated only with the gurgles of bellies within bellies, but eventually a balding man in the second row spoke up.

“So, are you actually some kind of dog, or what?”

“Who wants to see a man strip down and perform The Electric Slide for us?” Fennec asked, waving his hand absently as the audience roared with applause.