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The Big Day

by

Dissident Love

copyright 2016

Rennie wandered across campus, periodically pausing poke at the small injection site on his rump. There was no pain, much to his surprise, and there didn't seem to be any obvious side effects appearing just yet.

It's been forty minutes, he chided himself. It's not like you're suddenly going to sprout horns or unexpectedly burst out of your clothes!

That thought struck him with a start and his paw shifted further south, but of course that was even sillier. He had been informed that there was no visible or discernible effect expected for at least a week, and even then he was only to take precise measurements of the important metrics and fill out the online clinical trial form.

He sighed again and smiled. It might be too much to expect there to be any really impressive results, but if the gods weren't going to answer his prayers, then biomedical research associates in sparkly white labcoats were the next best thing!

Rennie resumed walking, unaware of the peculiar looks his probing had attracted. The fennec taur was not an imposing sight, his lean, almost willowy form shrouded by a black hoodie that could have easily fit two of him. With fur the color of pale straw, he drifted like a warm cloud across the quad, oversized paws sinking into the grass and oversized ears twitching with the occasional droplets of rain. Most taurs could be spotted by their sheer height from quite some distance, but Rennie was hardly taller than the average anthro co-ed (excluding, of course, the giraffes).

He thanked his lucky stars once more than his student card was still good and quickened his pace. His lunch hour only had ten minutes left, and he had a lot of ground to cover. A rumble in his stomach also reminded him that he had new and special tissue-building dietary requirements that were going to take some getting used to.

. . . . .

There was one thing to be said for living in the City: anything you needed was probably less than ten blocks away.

Rennie worked at Sluggo & Boyce, one of the City's premiere sexual health and relationship aid purveyors... or, as they were more commonly described, porn peddlers and sex toy manufacturers. They had no storefront, instead serving any of the dozens of garishly decorated adult boutiques in the City as well as select locations nationwide. As amusing as the employer might seem, his position was not what he would call particularly titillating or exciting.

"And exactly what were you doing when it crashed?" he asked politely, angling his head away from the webcam and rolling his eyes. He knew he wasn't broadcasting, but as one of the IT directors he knew that there were ways around such vague concepts as 'on' and 'off'.

"Nothing!" squeaked the indignant female voice in his ear. "Nothing different, I mean! I was spinning a model, trying to get a good view of the suction base, and BLOOSH! Everything goes black!"

"Everything as in the entire operating system, or everything as in just the 3d modelling program?" Rennie inquired, not really caring.

"EVERYTHING everything! What do you think EVERYTHING means?!"

According to the information populating his screen, this current technical support call was from just down the hall, from the desk of one Leonna Tush. He was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt that she was just one of the creative designers for S&B, but the tiny avatar in the corner of her help ticket window showed a very buxom feline straddling, and doing her best to impale herself on, a breathtakingly large equine cock.

Probably a media model AND a media modeller, he thought with a smirk. She's bi-talented!

"All right, can you click the OK in the corner of your screen to give me remote control of your desktop?"

The throaty voice suddenly became cautious, and he could hear frantic clicking. "Remote control? Like, what, you'll take over?"

"Just for a few minutes, yes, so I can diagnose the problem."

"Will you see everything, or just the problem?"

"Well, I'll have to see everything to find out what the problem is."

The clicking increased, and Rennie didn't need any remote control software to know that whatever she had ACTUALLY been doing she was now actively trying to undo. Considering where they worked and what they worked on, he couldn't imagine it to be particularly salacious by anyone's standards, and it hadn't set off the internal network proxy alarms.

"Ma'am?"

"ONE SECOND!"

"Just click the OK in the corner of your screen-"

"YEAH, I JUST... dammit... OK, FINE!"

As usual, it didn't turn out to be anything technically against company policy, but he had to admit that the seventeen interactive browser pages open to wedding dress vendors was unexpected. She had indeed been working on a model for a new sex toy with her work-approved software suite, but she had also been virtually trying on more than a dozen extremely frilly outfits, and her poor computer simply wasn't equipped to satisfy those needs. He cleared her cache, changed her swap file settings, and returned her desktop control with a simple text message of 'congratulations'.

"What was it this time?" Leeroy asked.

Rennie snickered. "You know Leonna?"

The bulky, shaggy pony sharing the IT office whistled. "From down the hall? Yeah. Damn, you always get the hot ones. What was she doing?"

"Wedding dresses."

"No!"

"Yeah!"

"Wow."

"I'll say."

"Think it's Gerry?"

"Who?"

"The hoss in her avatar."

"Oh. I dunno."

"Damn. Some guys get all the luck, I guess."

"What do you mean?"

Leeroy's leer deepened and he made some rather graphic and oversized pantomimes in the area above his lap. Quite a bit above his lap, topping out somewhere above his own head. "You know. He's been in a lot of our VR media lately, and I think they've modelled a whole line of toys on him. Big fella."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"BIG fella."

Rennie grimaced. "Yeah. Thanks."

Their office was generally quite professional: white walls, white furniture, skylights, window view of the city street below. It was only the occasional lewd calendar, loose dildo and rainbow-hued sample size bottle of personal lubricant that reminded Rennie his day job wasn't quite the one he'd planned on getting. On the plus side, the employee discounts were substantial, and every now and then he got to meet some truly remarkable people.

And very, very occasionally, he fell in love with them.

Rennie's desktop bleeped and he glanced over, wondering who forgot which mouse button did what, and his heart leapt when he saw the telltale orange and gold eyeball avatar. His paws exploded across the keyboard, hammering out the traditional response to Keith's greeting.

K-POP: *sprawls with*

RenFen: *flumphs on*

A rumble started deep in his barrel, but he could never really manage a proper canid growl of contentment; it always came out as a series of soft-palate snorts and squeaks. His tail wagged, swishing back and forth between his cushioned divan and Leeroy's wheeled office chair.

K-POP: How's you today?

RenFen: Not bad. People keep breaking shit.

K-POP: We usually do.

RenFen: It's cute when you do it!

"What now?" Leeroy mumbled, flipping through a calendar. Most of his monitor was filled up with various spaceships, but Rennie had learned not to ask... he simply didn't have enough hours in the day to hear about which fictional cinematic fighter craft would win in hypothetical dogfights.

"Oh, nothing. Just Keith."

Leeroy whistled, equine muzzle pulled back wryly. "Speaking of 'some guys get all the luck'..."

"Hush, you," Rennie blushed, hunching his shoulders and leaning forward in an attempt to hide his chat window. It never made much of a difference, and besides, everyone in the office knew the fennec taur was dating one of Sluggo & Boyce's more popular male employees.

RenFen: Where are ya?

K-POP: Studio three. Some sort of latex scene.

RenFen: *giggle* Are you latexy or your victim?

K-POP: HAH! Victim. And the bed. It's squeaky as fuck in here.

RenFen: Have fun!

K-POP: Not too much. Gotta save some fun for you. *winky*

RenFen: You always have extra.

K-POP: Dmn gta go director yelling cya luv u bye!

RenFen: Be good!

K-POP: No!

It took all of a minute, but Rennie's heart was racing and suddenly his day didn't seem so dull and dreary anymore. He still had to avert his eyes whenever there was a screening going on in the main office, whimpers and moans and screams of ecstasy blaring while one or two or seven furres writhed and thrust on the full-wall projection screen; porn had never really been his thing. Even the translucent and jiggly toys on Leeroy's desk made him uncomfortable on some faint, persistently immature level. Many of his friends had expressed jealousy at his place of work, wishing they could immerse themselves into the world of multimedia erotica production, but Rennie would have been happier in a regular, boring technical job.

But for introducing him to Keith, he figured he owed the company more than they owed him.

"You guys hitting the Boiler tonight?"

"Yip?" Rennie yipped, ears twitching. "Sorry, I was... what?"

"Boiler. You guys. Tonight? Hitting? Drinky-drinky?" The pony elaborated, pantomiming several tiny drinks pouring into his mouth.

"Oh... yeah, probably. Friday, right. Who all's coming?"

Leeroy shrugged. "I dunno. Most of the stagecraft nerds will be there-"

"I think they prefer the term 'stagecraft wizards'."

"Whatever. Maybe a few of the sales people. Keith's usually good to bring a couple of the models," he added, almost as an afterthought, voice dripping with forced nonchalance.

Rennie grinned. "Any in... particular, you hope he brings?"

"Hmm? Oh, I dunno. Anyone... cute. Ahem."

"Any particular KIND of cute?"

Leeroy glared at Rennie, but it didn't last. They shared a knowing look, and the burly pony pulled up an S&B profile on his screen. "I'm not holding my breath or anything, but if he could invite Stella here, that would be, like, AMAZING. And I would totally owe him. And you. Both of you. Anything within my mostly-legal abilities."

Rennie had to admire the picture on Leeroy's screen. Mistress Stella was a fairly new acquisition, a fresh-faced college grrl with huge green eyes and endless waves of pink hair. The bovine looked quite unassuming from the neck up, but the full-body spread showed a plump ungulate fairly bursting out of red, lacy lingerie, clearly designed to accentuate hir no doubt extremely heavy curves. "Into the bondage thing?" he asked with an arched eyebrow, noting the handcuffs frozen mid-twirl around one of Mistress Stella's fingers.

"Not, like, exactly, the whole dominant/submissive thing," Leeroy hemmed and hawed. "I just think, you know, shi could, if shi WANTS... like, my bed does have a wrought iron headboard..."

Rennie snickered even louder and waved the poor pony into silence. "Fine, I'll text, I'll text, just... please stop making me imagine you tied-up and spread-eagled on a bed. Yarg."

"I'm face-down in this scene."

"STOP IT!"

. . . . .

The lock clicked, and Rennie fell sideways into the apartment. He lay in their entryway for several seconds while his internal gyros slowly adapted to the new situation. With great care and deliberation he raised a finger on one paw and proclaimed, "Ow."

Keith giggled, kneeling carefully and offering a helping hand. "You ok?"

"The door moved."

"Doors do that."

"Kick it for me."

"Will that make you feel better?" Keith murred, leaning closer.

"Well... it couldn't hurt..."

"It could hurt me! I have very sensitive toes."

Flopped over on his side, Rennie's eyes caressed down Keith's lean form to the aforementioned toes, and he leaned in to give the digits on the fox's left foot a kiss. "I know," he chuckled, his ears twitching vigorously.

Keith giggled again, shaking and jiggling. "Hey, watch it, your ears are tickly!"

"Not my fault..."

"It kind of is..."

Rennie rolled onto his back, staring up adoringly at Keith, or more accurately at the broadside of Keith's pants. The fox was tall and athletic, boyishly handsome but with a rogue's knowing eyes. Anywhere the fennec could imagine he'd have stood out in a crowd, attracting all manner of admiring gaze, but that apparently wasn't good enough for the fox's genes, oh no. Hunched over as he was, Keith's legs were straining around a collection of bulges that would have been at home on a taur several times his size, or perhaps several standard-sized taurs. Blessed with quantity in more ways than one, better than a dozen swollen basketball-sized orbs jostled together just beneath that thin, silky purple fabric, and Rennie knew from experience those soft spheres were far from full.

"Getting an eyeful?"

"Mwuff," Rennie mumbled, pressing his nose to Keith's bulges and closing his eyes.

"Well, if it's not too much trouble, could you roll over?"

"Oh, gods, yes..."

Keith snorted and winked. "I just meant so you weren't blocking the door. I'm still in the corridor."

Rennie's eyes popped open and he hiccupped apologetically. "Erm... sorry," he warbled sheepishly, trying to get his paws under him and half-crawling upright. "I... may have had one drink too many tonight."

"You? Never!" Keith gasped in shock, standing slowly and shutting the door behind him. His pants were a special highly-elastic synthetic that moved with him like a second skin, allowing his peculiar sac to move freely. His legs were powerfully built from years of carrying around all that weight, but it still looked as though the statuesque vulpine was trying to walk with half a ton of watermelons bouncing just below his hips.

"Hush, Officer," Rennie hiccupped again, clinging to the wall for support (although he was fairly sure that if he moved, the wall would fall over). "Yeesh, ok, maybe inviting Stella was a bad idea."

Keith threw back his head and laughed before sauntering over and wrapping his long arms around Rennie's shoulders, pressing an awful lot of mass against the tipsy fennec's barrel. "I told you, shi LOOKS like this innocent farmer's daughter grrl-next-door but shi's got the heart of the devil. In a jar. In hir basement."

"Should I warn Leeroy?"

"I'm pretty sure it's too late for that, and I'm pretty sure he knows what he's in for," Keith winked, leaning in close and smooching Rennie's cheek. "Did you see the look in his eyes?"

"I was more... uh... concerned about... I mean, I'm gonna have to hear all about this on Monday..."

Keith's muzzle pulled back, exposing a great deal of pointy, pearly teeth. "Then don't you want to hear that he had a good weekend rather than a bad one?"

"Not really!" Rennie muttered, knowing all too well that he was going to have to endure a lot of details, and adjectives, and no doubt Leeroy's best reinterpretations of all the sounds he was no doubt making at this very moment. "I'll just keep my headphones on all day."

"That's my boy," the fox murred, stepping sideways to bring himself chest-to-chest with his mate and forcing his gravidly overfilled sac against Rennie's forelegs. "Ever the problem solver."

"That is my specialty," he husked, his forepaws moving out wide to cup and caress those many, many bulges. "For instance, we seem to have a problem here in the apartment."

"Mmm?" Keith smiled, planting little kisses along Rennie's neck. "What's that?"

"You're wearing clothes."

"Oh, heaven's no. Whatever shall we do?"

"Once this wall stops needing me to hold it up, we're going to have to think of something..."

Arms twined around one another and paws roaming everywhere and anywhere, the inebriated couple managed a six-legged stumble to the bedroom. It was a sparse space, with only a handful of doors to the closets and ensuite and a single large, high window with an excellent upwards view of the city skyline. To the casual observer it would seem that the entire floor was strewn lazily with blankets and pillows, but the cunning fennec had managed to use a combination of memory foam and Sintex underlay to transform the entire surface into one comfortable mattress, with the notable exception of the far corner.

Keith bounced once, twice, and tumbled onto his back, limbs akimbo and body almost hidden from sight by the immense mound of his many testes. "Oh, goodness me, I seem to have fallen," he proclaimed dramatically, toes wiggling. "I sure hope nothing terrible happens!"

Rennie tried to stifle his high-pitched giggles, but it was useless. He hunkered down and shuffled towards the supine fox, licking his lips. "Everything looks good on this side," the fennec noted, eyes wide. "I better just get these off, to, uh... make sure..."

It was never an easy process to get Keith's clothes off, but unfortunately even the slightest consideration to modesty required him to at least try and keep his loins covered. They'd both always considered it rather silly, given that there was absolutely no way that anyone could possibly misinterpret what the fabric was covering, but it did mean most nights involved Rennie unwrapping his boyfriend like an especially tightly-packed Crimbo present.

Digging his dextrous fingers into the overstressed but still infinitely durable fabric, he started the long and thoroughly enjoyable task, moving from side to side and allowing his forepaws to stroke and caress. He told himself it was to keep Keith from getting bored of the process and dozing off, but really he was a selfish fennec and just enjoyed groping as much as he could, whenever he could, and every press of his padded toes caused the mound to creak and swell a tiny bit larger.

"Taking your sweet time tonight, aren't you?" Keith drawled, stretching out and twisting, feeling the kinks in his back and hips pop and finally start to unclench. "Had a rough day?"

Rennie fancied he could feel the injection site on his rump heating up, but he knew it had to be his imagination. Someday I'll show you how I really feel, he thought, finally managing to get the waist of Keith's pants beyond the greatest circumference of the fox's bundled seedtanks. Someday I'll give you the sort of love you deserve...

"Not rough, just... tiring," Rennie purred as Keith's pants finally snapped back to a deceptively small pile of fabric around the fox's ankles, which he casually tossed into the corner. Slowly, paws moving in a complicated sideways dance, he circled around until he stood by his mate's side. The taur felt an elastic twinge as he unsheathed, a heavy, foot-long shaft swaying between his hind legs and thumping excitedly against his underbelly.

Of course, next to Keith he wondered why he even bothered. The anthro's sheath was never less than a foot long, and at the moment was straining rapidly towards two, thickening with steady throbs as more and more foxflesh filled it. Keith's legs writhed and spread as all that engorging tissue between his thighs forced everything apart; for better or worse he was rather helpless during sex, at the mercy of whomever he might find himself with, and he nightly thanked his lucky stars he found himself with Rennie at the end of every day.

Rennie hunkered down, sprawling alongside his lover, hands and paws caressing every which way and pressing his lips to Keith's. "What about you? Another... big day?"

"Mmmrrrr, about average."

"Boy? Girl?" Rennie continued, tugging Keith's shirt free.

"Boi... you know, you don't need to ask about-"

"I LIKE to hear about your day," the fennec grinned, dragging his blunted claws down Keith's chest, across his belly and down to the base of his sheath.

"You say you don't want to watch my movies, though..."

"That's different. I get to experience_your movies," Rennie purred. "But I still like to _hear about all the fun, exciting things you get to do. The interesting people you get to meet."

"The sets I get to destroy," Keith growled, but it was a guttural sound of pleasure. "New boi. You probably haven't even met him yet. I wanna say his name is Hammy, but I just don't remember..."

"Well, aren't you professional?" Rennie snickered, smooching his way down Keith's neck even as his hands strayed up that monstrous twitching sheath. Further down, his footpaws and underbelly nestled up to Keith's staggering sac, which only continued to expand. "And what happened?"

"Latex scene... I think I mentioned that earlier. He's a cute little minkboi, fur like velvet. I don't even know how he gets it that short, but I... mmmm... I guess you need to for the latex. I was his... physical therapist."

The fennec snorted. "Physical therapists put people IN traction now?" he giggled into Keith's tummyfluff. "That sounds like a terrible business model."

"He came to me to help solve his... sexual dysfunction. He felt he was under... mmm.... Under-performing. You know how _minks_are." Keith's breathing became more labored, his powerful paws digging into Rennie's shoulders. "He's definitely a hyper, but n... n... not like me..."

Rennie knew that tell-tale stutter well and he turned to rest his cheek against Keith bellybutton, ears ramrod straight, to watch his fox unsheathe, drum-tight tawny fur tugging back to reveal a column of uncharacteristically pink, smooth flesh. Heavenly musk filled his nostrils and his paws reached skywards, padded fingertips just able to caress the swaying, glistening glans.

"I'm sure he's bigger than me," he murmured throatily, pressing his nose to the base of Keith's cock and slowly kissing his way up. Although the fox was immensely well-endowed, four feet from knot to tip if he was an inch, that maleness almost seemed comically small compared to the compounded sac below.

"You know tha-... unnff... that doesn't matter," Keith gasped, propping himself up on his elbows and staring glassy-eyed at his taur. His legs were now completely obscured by his balls, heavy veins twitching violently just below the surface as though directly pumping more seed into each sphere. "I love you, dummy!"

"You always know just what to say," Rennie chuckled, rising back to his footpaws and embracing the fox's member. "Go on... what happened? Did you fix his little problem?"

The anthro leered, reaching out to stroke Rennie's flanks. "Mmmm, first I had to see what his problem was. He claimed he couldn't... mmm... couldn't fill his lovers like he used to."

"Did he have to prove it to you the 'hard' way?" Rennie asked archly, slowly dragging his tongue to the very crest of Keith's cock before nipping with feather-light teeth, eliciting a phenomenal jerk of taut tendons and an extra inch or two of length.

"MMM!! Fuck... n-no, we have a... device for that. He filled up a condom f-for me... it was so hard not to giggle, because his latex pants kept squeaking on the frame..."

Rennie rolled his head around, feeling his neck pop, and worked his jaw soundlessly. It was always a bit of a heroically bad idea to attempt this without proper stretching, but sometimes he just had to follow his passions. "I bet you laughed at how small he was," he guessed, inhaling the fox's scent.

"That was in the script... you know I'd never actually do that..."

"Oh, shut up and get to the good bits," Rennie coaxed playfully, resting one forepaw fully on the rising mountain of swelling orbs to his left and the other on Keith's belly.

"Aren't we bossy tonight!" Keith exclaimed in mock dismay.

"Never argue with someone who's teeth are actually on your dick."

"Mmmmmmmmmff... wise words, Master... anyways, he filled it up, and I'm sure m-most people would say it was huge, but he had to seem super-disappointed."

"Minks... always showoffs..."

"So then I told him that he just need to... to learn how to take his time... and really... b-build it up..."

Rennie glanced lovingly at Keith's sac, which was very nearly as tall as the taur now and emitting very worrying creaks and sloshes. This was far from the biggest he'd seen the fox, but to be fair, they were moving quite fast and they HAD both been drinking. "Then what?"

"Then w-we started to make out, and he h-had to get me hard, but when he asked if I was going to show him with a condom, I said yes, but the condom was going to be himOHMYGODS..."

Jaw yawning as wide as he could manage (and as a fennec with a lot of practice, this was exceptionally wide), Rennie wrapped his arms around Keith's shaft tightly and plunged his maw down. His cheeks filled out, his nostrils flared and his throat bulged as he struggled to swallow more of his lover, but the fox's maleness suddenly hardened still further, locking them together. The taur squeaked once, the only sound he could manage, and he started to stroke more forcefully with his paws, tongue working wherever it could reach.

Keith's grunts and growls slowly faded back into recognizeable words. "B-brave boy," he whimpered, clutching wildly at Rennie's legs, one paw searching blindly for the taur's undercarriage. "It's one of th-those nights, is it?"

Rennie snorted, sounding rather like a horse, and gently kicked his lover's hips, coaxing him further. "R-right, the mink," Keith wheezed, thighs bucking as he strained not to cum too soon. His knot was already blooming, pressed hard against his lower belly, and he could feel his flow of pre increase from a trickle to a steady gush; the taur's upper torso was already starting to swell and soften. "He took his sw-sweet time getting me hard, and when we had him climb into the condom harness, and.... More latex to strap him in. Uunnnfff.... The squeaking was maddening..."

The fennec would have giggled if he could, but between the pounding in his ears and the liquid churning sounds coming from his upper stomach he doubted anyone would have heard. He couldn't even turn his head from side to side, so tightly were they connected, which was just the way he liked it. More, he thought, arms pumping up and down now. Tell me more... give me more...

"He was.... Tight... because he was so small... but I still got m-most of the way in. And j-just to prove that going slow is important for some people," he snickered meaningfully, arching his back and sliding his own paw back and forth along Rennie's steel-hard erection, "we used a rubbery... cock-ring... cargo strap... thing on me to keep me from finishing..."

We need to get one of those!

"I bet you think we need to get one of those..."

And maybe not just for you, Rennie added, wondering when the clinical trials would start to have some noticeable effects.

"Anyways... oh, gods, yes, harder, harder... a-anyways, I couldn't knot him, so the director told me to berate him for being a quitter... not my th-thing, but hey, the fans like what they like..."

He is a quitter, Rennie thought proudly. You tied me on our second date... The taur swayed from side to side, feeling his weight increasing as the fox's back-pressure climbed higher and higher. Even now, Keith's precum was more than a lot of hypers managed at full blast, or at least the hypers he'd managed to meet in person, and working at Sluggo & Boyce he'd met a lot. He and Keith watched most of the movies the studio produced, just not the ones starring Keith himself.

"And... fffffffuck... I thought I was going to blow an eyeball when the ring stopped me the first time... and my balls got big... p-probably bigger than I am now... and then I told him we'd waited long enough..."

Rennie didn't know why he enjoyed hearing about Keith's shoots. He was worried when they'd started dating that he would grow resentful of all of the fox's daily lovers, of all the adventuresome sex he got to have with three-camera setups and a dozen crew watching, but really he found that it intrigued and excited him. And, as Keith so eloquently put it, he wasn't getting paid to make love to Rennie... that was pleasure, not business.

"I unhooked it... and Hammy... I'm going to keep calling him that... and Hammy got really worried, and I am pretty sure that wasn't just acting..."

I know how that goes, Rennie thought, remembering that fateful second date. Looking back over his shoulder, watching that mound of testes swelling larger and larger behind Keith, seemingly without the slightest intent of ever stopping, he'd been worried that he had made a terrible decision. It had turned out to be the best decision of his life.

"And... I tried to hold off... but it was like... ffffffuck... thirty seconds... and then... and then..." The fox was shaking back and forth now, eyes clenched shut, breath coming in shallow gasps. "He got big so FAST... and the latex was making the most scary noises... and there was mink squeezing out of his little halter-top _everywhere..._and I wasn't even halfway done when it started coming out of his mouth..."

That pushed Rennie over the edge. His jaw groaning in protest, his throat already feeling bruised, all of the little aches and pains disappeared in a blossom of ecstasy as he reached his own climax. His legs gave out and he slumped, almost clinging to Keith's cock for support, as he shot over and over again, spraying his underbelly and the fox's sac with his seed. Keith's paws worked with marvelous skill, slick with cum and stroking him vigorously until the fennec didn't think he'd ever recover enough to go again.

But tell... me... more...

"The desk went... and he crushed the couch... and I kept filling him up..." Keith continued, knowing he'd catch hell if he stopped his story. "The cameras had to keep pulling back... one of the set walls almost collapsed... Randall had to come in right over my shoulder for a close-up... faster... faster..."

Rennie's paws worked like pistons now, small and pale compared to the raging fuscia tumescence of Keith's engorged foxhood. "The latex started to rip... and snap... oh, the noise... I might have to play you just the soundtrack when it's done... but he just... kept... growing..."

Keith was a bit of a... specialty act at S&B. Due to his condition, there weren't many other models or actors who would share a scene with him without violating the terms of their health insurance, but those that signed the waivers generally found themselves very popular with a certain size-obsessed corner of the hyper market. Keith himself was a moderate celebrity in that area, and he received no less than a hundred offers a week from fans to be on the receiving end of his passion, many of which were accompanied by substantial cash offers.

And he's mine... all mine... Rennie thought drunkenly, and not a little bit selfishly, bracing himself as the skin of Keith's cock tightened to the point of glossiness, audible crackles of overtensioned tendons filling their bedroom.

"But not like you," Keith managed, squeezing Rennie's footpaw reassuringly as the multi-endowed hyper-fox erupted.

Rennie's anthro-belly was already filled out as though pregnant, but that was nothing compared to the first violent explosion of seed in his throat. His tauric barrel expanded like a bomb had gone off somewhere within, all four of the fennec's feet leaving the ground in a rush of motion. Rennie's fingers dug into Keith's shaft, knowing he couldn't even make a dent in that steel hardness, trying to keep his muzzle clamped on with all of his might.

He felt filled with liquid heat, pressing against his insides in the most improbable, electric way. His footpaws paddled uselessly at the air as he continued to balloon, his barrel and his torso becoming less distinct as he filled with hundreds of gallons of seed, and then countless hundreds more. His belly pressed against his arms, forcing them up and out of the way, and he squeaked again when he felt his rump already touching the ceiling.

Keith was beyond words, yipping and snarling as he writhed, his paws pressing against his lover's seemingly endlessly elastic body, but even Rennie had limits. Bit by bit his skin tightened, until he felt as overfilled as a regulation basketball under his fur. The bedroom was big and the fennec was filling up the vast majority of it, blocking the windows as well as the doors, and still he continued to expand. His arms and legs started to lose definition, disappearing into the living condom that he had become...

Until the fox groaned long and loud, and at last his climax abated.

Rennie, his fur so thinned out that individual freckles now the size of dinner plates were visible, would have slumped if he'd been under any control of his own limbs. As it was, he was barely able to work his jaw enough to free himself from Keith's cock, which was slowly softening but he knew it would remain just as big for many hours to come. White hot cream spilled and flowed out from his cheeks as his body swayed and shifted like the tides, but he hiccupped and snapped his muzzle shut, determined to keep as much within him as possible.

And yet, in the far corner, the drain could already be heard gurgling as Rennie's other openings weren't quite so persistently sealed.

"So... did that... help you... relax...?" Keith slurred through numb lips, wriggling his body sideways to cuddle up to his vastly overinflated mate.

"Mmm... hmmm..." Rennie whimpered in reply, a trickle of white escaping. He knew how he looked; more than once Keith had filmed their own endeavors, just to have some video proof that SOME people were capable of handling all of him, though they had never gone public. Rennie himself had been offered twice his own annual salary just to film one scene, and allow himself to be fwoomped out to catastrophic sizes, but the bashful programmer had always turned them down.

"Next time... cock ring? We can go for... a record?"

"Mmmmph!" Rennie protested, paws flapping against his body. After a moment to think about it though, he made a sound that might have been considered a noncommittal agreement.

Keith chuckled, licking Rennie's tummy and closing his eyes. "My silly little fennec," he purred softly, their tastes mingling on his tongue.

"Mmmfff fnnnnx..." Rennie attempted, nearly pulling a muscle.

Within minutes the pair of them were asleep, gently lulled by the sounds of the taur sloshing with each breath.

. . . . .

Saturday mornings were, generally by necessity, a very lazy affair.

When Rennie awoke from his slumber he found himself propped up against the wall, just below the window. His eyes blearily opened a fraction of an inch, just enough to gauge his elevation, and he was somewhat dismayed to discover he was once again at floor, or at least mattress, level.

He yawned, long and luxuriously, and began to poke and prod at his body, expecting to still be more sloshing seed than fair fennec, but he seemed to have sprung back to normal in the course of the night. He glanced over to the high-capacity floor drain the corner and pouted. "Darn," he muttered, flopping over onto his back and stretching in all directions, feeling his joints popping back into place. "Must've sprung a leak..."

Rennie heard whistling from elsewhere in the apartment and smelled coffee. From the slant of the sun angling in above him he guessed it to be close to ten, maybe ten-thirty. He'd gotten good at judging the time from the angle of the sun, having spent many, many glorious mornings in that room still filled somewhere beyond capacity and quite unable to move under his own power.

He struggled to his feet, sore down to his bones, but it was the soreness that most people associated with an extremely thorough massage; he felt renewed, strengthened. Sticky, but strengthened.

"I hear movement," Keith sing-songed from the direction of the kitchen. "Hop in the shower, I'll bring you something hot and potent."

Rennie grinned, for once hoping it meant coffee. "As you command," he croaked, his jaw still not quite moving right.

He spent a solid thirty seconds moaning ecstatically under the huge twin ceiling-mounted showerheads, steam billowing up around him. He twisted this way and that, wringing himself out like a hand towel before bringing his face up and letting the scalding water wake him up by sheer brute force. When he eventually removed his head from the onslaught, giggling and sputtering, he found the closet door closing and a very naked Keith standing next to him, big mugs of brew in each hand.

"Black for me, extra cream for you," the fox deadpanned, inching into the spray.

"That joke never gets old," Rennie sighed, leaning forward to kiss his mate good morning. "Hey, babe. Sleep well?"

"So great. You?"

The fennec straightened up and nodded, digging at a persistent itch on his underbelly with a footpaw. "Definitely. Kept having these dreams about a mink, squeaking, over and over..."

Keith laughed, fur slicking down as he maneuvered his way beneath one of the overhead fountains. He was considerably smaller this morning, his sac well clear of the ground, sheath hardly bigger around than one of his thighs. "Oh, man, don't remind me. If the latex crossover goes well, there's going to be a series of them. Latex, pleather, Sintex, whatever the producers can come up with. Tactile fetishes are very big."

"Well, I don't want to get in the way of fans and their... big fetishes," Rennie grinned, sliding his hip meaningfully alongside several of Keith's many, many testes. "But I guess that's cool. Same boi?"

"Nah, they gotta mix it up. Some guys, some girls, some grrls, you know the routine."

"Don't say it-"

"Market saturation," Keith finished, blinking innocently and sipping his coffee.

"You're terrible."

"And you're fine! Really, I thought it was going to be dinnertime before you were able to haul yourself out of there, you greedy boy, you."

Rennie just shrugged. "I guess I relaxed a little TOO much in my sleep. I can only blame you for this. And unf, don't mention dinnertime. Damn, I'm hungry..."

"Hungry? After last night?" Keith gawked.

"Quiet, or I'll make you my breakfast," the taur chuckled evilly, wrapping his arms carefully around Keith's shoulders and kissing him once more, forelegs pressed very meaningfully against the fox's woefully overloaded sac.

"Really, you're going to end up seeing Doctor Riviera about your jaw again," Keith leered, nipping at Rennie's neck. "You KNOW he knows how that happened."

"See, THAT'S why you don't get blowjobs in cars anymore!"

Real life eventually intruded, and after several hundred more farewell smooches Keith was out the door, off to a weekend shoot on one of the City's rooftop botanical gardens. It was a simple photoshoot this time, but apparently it was to be a progressive series of the fox swelling bigger and bigger in a white robe that was clearly not up to the task, coaxed by two mischievous wood nymphs. While the movies might not be Rennie's preference, he LOVED his mate's pictures, and was seriously considering getting a second smartphone just to have a device dedicated to holding them all.

But by lunchtime, this meant the fennec was flopped on his back, on the couch, drinking yet another coffee and flicking idly through the television channels. "Boring," he muttered, clicking with a footpaw and scratching with another. "Boring. Boring. Gay, even by my standards. Stupid, even by my standards. Boring. Boring. Pleh."

Rennie had planned on being quite immobile all day, and found himself at a loss when he wasn't. They had plans in the evening to play Cards Against Furres with some of their friends from S&B, but that still left six long, boring, foxless hours to kill.

He glanced over at his computer desk and supposed he should fill out the first day of his clinical trial forms. Many things needed to be tracked, especially sleep and food, and all that information would be dumped into a giant computer and swirled around until the next version of the medication was 2% better, or somesuch nonsense. Rennie had breezed through computer programming, information technology, business management and multimedia financing, but he still found even basic applied chemistry and biology confusing. I mean, what the hell was a mole anyway, if not a subterranean mammal?!

Those forms only killed about fifteen minutes, and before long he was back to wandering vaguely around the apartment. He and Keith had been a couple for a little under a year, and had been living together for the past six months, but still the vast majority of the furnishings and decorations belonged to the popular fox. It wasn't that Rennie didn't have anything to bring to the apartment, but rather that most of his possessions fit neatly into two small boxes, and one of those boxes was nothing but solid state hard drives.

And besides, he thought, sprawling out on the couch again, Keith needed the custom furniture and kitchen hardware a lot more than Rennie needed anything. Keith's favorite chair was a recliner carefully molded to cradle and scoop his colossal assets, set at an oblique angle to the television so he could actually see the screen while horizontal. Rennie had looked them up one day and felt a distinct pain in his wallet at the associated price tags.

Problems I'd like to have. He sighed and closed his eyes, remembering the first time he'd lain eyes on Keith. The taur had been working at Sluggo & Boyce for maybe a month, still wide-eyed and tongue-tied around anyone who worked there in a more graphically visual capacity. He'd been spending two straight maddening days trying to hook up and debug the new camera system, self-calibrating depthless digital video units that could produce high-definition, three-dimensional and VR-compatible footage. Naturally, it arrived broken and only went downhill from there.

He might have been a four-footed tech but he was also remarkably svelte, some might say dainty, so there was no problem with him crawling around the studios, running cable through ducting and wriggling under everyone's desks and behind all of the endless racks of server equipment. In the course of this upgrade he ended up in every office, cubicle and dressing room at least once and got to meet all of the full-time staff, both in front of and behind the camera.

Working in one empty dressing room, running cable through the plenum space, he'd been so concerned with not wrecking the ceiling tiles that he hadn't heard the wide double doors open up behind him. When he eventually settled back down on his haunches, brushing the dust off of his fur, he turned around and very nearly kicked Keith's spectacularly overfilled sweatpants with an errant paw.

"Hello," the fox had said, waggling his fingers pleasantly.

Rennie's eyes widened to the point he almost got a muscle cramp, and he squeaked something wordless in reply, scampering for the safety of the corridor and not stopping until he was tucked underneath the fire escape, quietly having a panic attack.

The second time they'd met, Rennie had to affix a high-def camera to the model's forehead for a series of POV shoots. He'd spent nearly the entire time sweating, palms shaking so much it took three tries just to get the buckles strapped.

The third time, Keith had cornered him in the elevator and asked him out for drinks after work.

"Why me?" Rennie mumbled for the billionth time, flopping around the apartment and wondering which game to play to kill the afternoon. Of course Keith had told him in no uncertain terms that Rennie didn't need to be a hyper to deserve his love, but it was hard to silence that little nagging voice in his head. According to the company grapevine, Keith had dated quite a number of the other actors and models at S&B, but none for more than a few months. He supposed lasting for almost an entire year meant it really was-

Rennie froze, half in the living room and half in the single hallway that connected the remainder of the apartment. He took a step back, all four paws moving with exaggerated care, and twisted his spine in order to more fully catch his reflection in the mirrored closet doors.

He stared.

He wiggled his hips.

He stared some more.

He giggled, and wiggled again.

A hindpaw lifted gently and scratched at that maddening itch that he'd felt all morning, which turned out to be just a scant inch away from the root of his sheath, which if he was any judge (and in this particular circumstance, he felt he was), was at least half again as large as it had been the previous night. It bulged, it actually bulged, seeming to already be stuffed full and weighing in a pleasantly noticeable way, the thin velvety web tugging as it swayed side to side. It wasn't 'huge', as he would consider it, but he was certain where he would consider a well-endowed equine as opposed to an average-sized vulpine.

His leg lifted and he eyed his sac critically, admiring them with unaccustomed pride.

"Well," he murmured, grin spreading. "I think we're starting to see some positive results."

Rennie watched a lot of sci-fi movies.

Rennie read a lot of fantasy books.

Rennie enjoyed a lifetime growing up lost in a haze of imagination.

Suffice it to say, Rennie was more than a little genre-savvy, and it took him all of ten minutes of browsing around the Internet to put the pieces of this puzzle together, or at least find enough pieces to figure out what the picture was supposed to be. The name of the chemicals he was helping to trial was tucked away in the copy of the waiver he'd found, and this clinical trial was being carried out in a dozen colleges and medical facilities across the country. As expected, the additional Non-Disclosure Agreements he'd signed along with every other trial member held almost zero power to the average twenty-something, and there were message board comments aplenty if you knew the right search terms.

He rubbed his tummy, finally understanding why he was so hungry after a night of naughtiness that by all rights should have very nearly ruptured both his bellies.

"So that's why they want you to track your food, drink, and sexual activity," he whispered triumphantly, combing through a campus forum, some arts college in Texas and finding still more corroboration. "The 'effects of this drug have been shown to react unpredictably to irregular spikes of sexual hormones, particularly when they coincide with irregular protein intake.'"

He licked his lips and picked up his phone, thumbing through to text Keith. "Looks like someone is going to be getting some special attention tonight..."

. . . . .

The fennec was immensely grateful that it was still early spring, with a humid crispness to the air blowing in from the ocean; it allowed him to slip into a pair of comfortable flannel taursweats and not draw any particular attention.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a long and fairly pleasant haze. He'd continued to watch television and occasionally flip through social media, but he did so while fairly systematically and quite thoroughly measuring his new dimensions. That Friday morning, he'd been a healthy and robust thirteen inches in length, not big for a taur but not small, either. By Saturday evening he was just a fraction shy of twenty inches, and a smidgen thicker than a pop can (he'd gone out just to buy a six-pack to make sure).

The difficult part had been not pawing himself to completion, but his paperwork from the clinic had been very clear: the compounds worked better when he abstained. The previous night he'd been a little too drunk on Keith's perfection to notice or protest, but considering that he'd still managed more than six inches of growth in one day by breaking the rules, what could he do when he followed them to the letter?

"Well, mostly to the letter," he purred to himself, sashaying into Shiraz, one of their neighborhood's nicer specialty diners. Live music thrice a week, whiskey flights on special, a dozen organic beers hand-written on the ever-changing chalk-board... Keith liked to say that if hipsters were allowed to breed, they'd probably have a daycare just like this.

Keith was perched at their favorite table, a small wine barrel just inside the door that minimized how much walking the bottom-heavy fox had to do; he didn't have the best ability to navigate between closely-packed furniture at the best of times. His pink lycra pants bulged around the barrel to either side, completely obscuring his long legs, and Rennie settled himself down opposite those swells after a quick kiss. "Evening, hot stuff."

"Evening yourself," Keith smiled. "Chilly?"

Rennie looked down at himself, mostly hidden by his favorite purple hoodie and his plaid sweats, only his paws and tail uncovered. "You know me, I don't do well in the cold. I like to be warm, and you weren't home today to keep me nice and toasty," he grinned, toes wiggling surreptitiously against Keith's many balls.

The fox chuckled and shifted his weight. "Easy, easy. I had a long day."

"Tough photo shoot?" Rennie asked casually, picking up the menu. "Too many sexy, sexy wood nymphs?"

"Just two of them!" he laughed in response, rubbing one of his upper swells. "But the producer just kept demanding I be bigger, and bigger, and bigger, so we had to pause like every five damn minutes to fluff me and let me calm down again. It was infuriating."

Rennie's tail wagged thunderously. "So you're saying you're a little pent up?" he asked huskily, leaning to the side. "You seem back to normal!"

"Yeah, the shoot ended with the wood nymphs, who are these twin ottergrrls from Canada, super-cute, crazy accents, anyways, it ended with the wood nymphs tying me to a tree and filling a condom so they could 'steal my essence', I think... I dunno, it all seemed a little silly, but the producer was out of his mind and seemed to think it'll be great. Very artsy."

The fennec's tail drooped at the mention of all that fox going to waste, but he knew that his lover could recharge faster than you could say 'go again'. "I can't wait to see those pictures," he murred, his toes massaging higher.

Keith wriggled and tried to inch backwards, which was a laughable task considering his bulk. "Hey, watch it, we're in a respectable dining establishment! Keep your paws PG-13!"

"Awww..."

They ordered and dined, watching the city life pass them by just beyond the huge windows, with more than a few glances being cast Keith's way. That was an unavoidable part of their lives together, and Rennie always found he rather enjoyed it, the admiring, fearful, disbelieving stares the spectacularly overendowed fox received, some of it spilling over to the lucky taur on his arm. That's right, he'd think smugly. He's with me. He's all mine. You're all just jealous.

"You ok?" Keith asked softly, chewing on a sticky bun.

"Hmmph?" Rennie mumbled around his own meal.

"You seem distracted. More so than usual," the fox winked. "I don't think you've stopped trying to give me a foot-job since we got here, but your eyes are everywhere except me."

"What, I have to stare at you 24/7?" the taur winked. "I've been staring at you non-stop for the last eleven months, hardly even daring to blink; I thought it was time I started looking at things like trees and cars again."

"You hush," Keith grinned. "You just seem a little woozy. Are you sure you're OK from last night?"

"Oh, gods yes..."

"Jeez, tell me how you really feel."

"Heh. No, I'm fine. I just... haven't been able to get you out of my mind all day. I'm so lonely, your bored little housewife, rattling around in that big old empty house all day, with nothing to do but drink red wine and watch my stories..."

Keith gently slapped the taur's paw, but his chuckles belied any consternation. "I know, I promised to work fewer weekends, but this was a pretty good paycheck."

"Oh, I don't mind that in the slightest. Honestly." Rennie leaned forwards, his nose almost touching Keith's, whiskers twitching in the updraft from the candle between them. "I was just thinking about our anniversary coming up. The big oh-one."

"Well, sure, if you're counting in years..."

"Fine, the big three-sixty-five," the taur snickered. "Sunday night. And you still haven't told me what you want to do."

"I didn't want to make a BIG deal out of it," Keith demurred, staring down at the candle. "I just wanted to spend the night in... with you. We don't need to go anywhere or do anything, you know... fancy..."

"It can be fancy if it's just us. I'll put out the good paper plates, and we can order from the second-cheapest Chinese place for once. We can drink beer from champagne flutes..."

"Are you making fun of me?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Good."

Rennie frowned. "What's wrong?"

"What? Nothing!"

"You could have fooled me. Every time I mention our anniversary you act like you got caught with your paws in the cookie jar and you're just trying to get out of punishment."

Keith fidgeted, his immensely buoyant sac swaying and sloshing as his legs fought for a comfortable position. "I just don't like to make a big deal out of special occa-... uhm... special occasions."

"You didn't want to call this occasion 'special', I notice," Rennie said softly, squeezing Keith's paw tighter.

"It is special! ANY time with you is special!" the fox blurted out, seeming surprised by his own words. "I just... look, I'm not good at being 'special' and 'romantic', and I didn't want to put a lot of pressure on our anniversary to be epic and memorable and something we'd tell the pups about later on, because I'd just spend the whole time afraid of fucking it up."

A few other concerned patrons glanced their way empathetically, but Rennie didn't notice. The hairs on the back of his head were standing on end, his tail twitching anxiously, and for the first time since his afternoon discovery he didn't feel the maddening itch between his hind legs.

"Pups?" he echoed, heart pounding.

Keith's visibly reddened, no mean feat for a furre. "Uhm... ok, that may be getting ahead of myself, but... look... I've never HAD a one-year anniversary before. Uhm. Ever."

Rennie's throaty rattle became a steady diesel rumble of affection. "Hey, neither have I, and you don't see me having a heart attack. You know that... it was just a couple of months, tops, and that was back in college."

"Yeah, but... you're practically a pup yourself, and-"

"Hey, we had a deal! You do NOT get to call yourself old around me!"

"But-"

Rennie's paw snaked out and clamped around Keith's muzzle. "I don't care if you just turned thirty and suddenly feel like a cradle-robbing dirty old man. So you never found the right person. WHO CARES?"

"Mmff fmmmmf." Keith sighed, nodding as much as he could in the fennec's surprisingly strong grip.

"Good. Now, I'm going to let go in a second, and then I'm going to kiss you, and THEN you're going to promise me that you'll think of something for us to do and somewhere for us to go on Sunday night, and then we're going to have a MAGICAL EVENING. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

Keith stared, relief and adoration plain on his face, when Rennie removed his paw. He blinked away a tear and nodded again, sniffling. "I promise."

"Good." Rennie said, bobbing his head once as though all had been settled and forgotten. "Now eat your kebab things before I do. I've got to get you home and do enormously filthy things to you while we watch the latest episode of DriveSHAFT."

The fox's own tail swished excitedly and the entire table shifted and wobbled slightly as his sac gurgled and swelled. "But I've had a long da-a-a-ay-y-y-y..." he whined playfully.

"Then we'll have to take our time," Rennie purred evilly, leaning in to smooch his lover exactly as he'd threatened to. "And get confirmation that you're absolutely, positively incapable of getting any more aroused, just to make sure."

The candle burned merrily, unaware of the extremely meaningful glances being exchanged above it.

"Check, please," Keith called, raising one finger.

Despite the thinly-veiled innuendo, vigorous tail-swishing and groin-groping, the pair were in no hurry to get home. The night was young, and while they had nowhere to go and nothing to do (Cards Against Furres being completely forgotten), they decided to do as little as possible together. Being a Saturday night in the City, however, this naturally involved a quick stop at the Booze Barn to stock Rennie's hoodie pouches with small bottles of liqueur. As the taur was fond of saying, it was the least expensive way to travel through time and space, as you could very quickly forget what hour it was and have no idea where you were when you woke up after.

"Mmmm, this one was coffee," Rennie giggled, licking his lips and handing the bottle gently to Keith. "Warm you up?"

"Caffeine? At this hour?" the fox gasped, his left arm thrown around Rennie's shoulders, his sac being rhythmically rubbed by the taur's walking gait. "You're never going to sleep now..."

"Of course not! I mean, not straight away... surely you can find some way to keep me amused, though."

"Did I mention exactly how wrung out I am after today? Two otter grrls! Tiny little paws! For five hours! With FLUFF BREAKS!"

"Awww," Rennie giggled, walking deftly on three paws while the remainder lifted up to stroke the immensely overfull mound of Keith's lap, lingering on the twitching mass of his sheath. "Do I have to go easy on you tonight?"

"Very, very easy," Keith murred, leaning his head on the taur's shoulder. The anthro fox was taller by several inches but he never let that stop him from being the small spoon whenever he could. "You seem very... bouncy tonight."

"What can I say? You put a spring in my step." Rennie punctuated this statement by giving the model's sheath a squeeze, and he was delighted to feel it jerk in response. "Sorry, I don't mean to be so... gropey lately. Maybe I'm just going through a phase."

Keith sighed. "I help a lot of people go through phases..."

"Now you know what I mean! STOP that!"

"I can't help it!"

"Not with that attitude! Think positive!"

"I'm just trying not jinx it!"

"Fuck jinxing it!" Rennie yowled, grabbing his mate's shoulder and spinning him around, prepared to catch him should his momentum prove too much to stop. "Do you think the odometer is going to roll over on our relationship and I'm suddenly going to acquire a taste for that hoss who does all the Studio B movies?"

"Well, you do like taller guys-"

Grunting in exasperation, the lanky taur pushed Keith up against the nearby park fence, wrought iron shaking and rattling, and did his best to smother the protests with his mouth. Keith stiffened, paws flapping for a moment before he gave up, arms twining around Rennie's neck and pulling him closer. Of course, it was difficult to get much closer, given that Keith's sac filled several dozen cubic feet directly in front of him, but the taur was flexible and skilled at working around those curves.

A couple passing by on the street whistled, giggled, kept walking and gone around the corner before their kiss broke.

The pair panted softly, clinging to one another, muzzle to muzzle. Rennie could feel the powerful fox's heart beating, and it never ceased to amaze him how the gorgeous and impossibly virile hyper seemed to have all of the off-camera self-confidence of a twelve-year-old virgin. "I'm not. Going. Anywhere," he whispered, punctuated for emphasis. "I. Love. You. Not your movies, not your junk... YOU."

Keith's muzzle bobbed once. "I know."

"You big dummy," Rennie added helpfully.

"Heh. I know."

"Do you love me?"

"I kn... yes, gods, yes, Rennie, you know I love you."

"Do you want to see our second anniversary?"

"Yes..."

"Do you want me to drink another tiny bottle of coffee liqueur?"

"I think that might be a bad idea."

"Do you want me to keep unzipping?"

Keith's eyes popped open and he glanced down. Hidden between their bodies and shielded from the street lights above, one of Rennie's numble forepaws had hooked the zipper on the fronts of his pants. They might be lycra, but even that fabric couldn't stretch all the way around that much flesh and still make for a comfortable waistband; inch by inch by inch, more and more of the fox's sheath spilled forth, swelling up like a shag-covered water balloon.

"Y-yes..."

Rennie looked around. "Do you want to go-"

Moving with remarkable speed for someone who hadn't seen his toes since puberty, Keith grabbed the taur's paw and dragged him down the sidewalk, through the gates of the little urban park, and into the cool grassy privacy of the night.

. . . . .

Sunday morning dawned way, way too early for Rennie.

"Gmmmpphllb," he groaned, throwing up one arm to shield his eyes from the piercing, accusatory sunrise. "Why's'm feet's're cold?"

Recollection was slow in coming. He remembered hitting the Booze Barn. He remembered giggling like a schoolgirl over the strange flavours that they'd picked out. He remembered regretting mixing mint and peach. Then there was something about... an argument. No, not an argument exactly... just one of Keith's momentary lapses in self-worth. Rennie winced and sighed, feeling a little bad for perhaps countering the fox's insecurities with something as callous as just grabbing him and kissing him, but he wasn't sure what else he could do; Keith just seemed determined to believe that for whatever reason, he wasn't good enough for ANYONE to be in a relationship with. Sex yes, relationship no.

And then... and then...

He opened his eyes and looked up at the underside of a blossoming cherry tree.

"Sex, yes," he chuckled ruefully. "Been a while since we did that in a park..."

His tail wriggled and wagged as he started to take stock through the lumpy, bruised blanket of his hangover. Keith had apparently found a second wind, otter grrls or no, and almost immediately Rennie had found himself clinging desperately to that same cherry tree, an uncharacteristically aggressive fox tearing passionately at their clothes. For a moment Rennie was terrified that his little secret would be found out, but it was Keith's turn to be a little selfish; two pairs of oversized pants tumbled into the darkness and moments later the taur was digging his toes into the ground as the bottom-heavy anthro struggled to hilt himself in the all-too-willing taur.

Oh ye gods, that knot... Rennie felt a warmth spreading through his body just from the memory of his hips creaking, hind legs splaying apart as that beachball-sized mass expanded within him, locking them together And then... and then...

He looked down, and saw only his normal, un-fwoomped body extending behind him. Beside him Keith snoozed peacefully, still wearing his blue polo shirt, nose nestled against Rennie's neck, colossal overstuffed sac rising up between their legs.

Is it still working...?

He craned his neck, dearly wanting to see but also trying his hardest to let his exhausted lover sleep. He shifted his hips, one leg kicking weakly at the air, his underbelly swinging slowly into view.

Oh... hell... yes...!

Laying on the damp, dewey grass, surrounded by one of the City's many urban botanical gardens, Rennie chewed hard on his tongue to keep from laughing maniacally. Yesterday he'd gone from normal-ish to pretty big; today he'd gone from pretty big to a dream-come-true. That had been more than double where he'd started; this was probably more than triple where he'd started! His sheath was a heavy, thick mound larger around than his bicep, pulling with a pleasing weight at his loins, his twin fluffy pupmakers now each roughly the size of his head.

I need to show Keith... oh, I need to do so much more than just SHOW him! I need to...

...

I need to wait.

This was Sunday morning, he mused. Tonight was their anniversary. When he'd started with the clinical trial, he'd simply intended to TELL Keith that he would have a surprise for him, it just might take a few weeks. But now, he had oh-so-much more to simply show him in person. He just had to keep it secret for another twelve hours. That could be done, right? Today was a bit of a lazy day, but he could keep the sweats on and just stick to the snuggling.

His jaw dropped when his nethers stirred, a sheath he'd hardly even fantasized seeing on his own body swaying in time to his heartbeat and filling out bigger, longer, fuller, heavier. It stretched along his underbelly, tightening visibly, and a tiny flash of pink peeking out as the cuff stretched, almost too much soft flesh within to fit through that opening-

"Morning," Keith murmured, licking at Rennie's ear.

"ACK!" Rennie jumped, legs flailing, trying to roll over onto his belly, thinking about baseball statistics, anything to slow his arousal. "I... sorry! You startled me... right in my ear, eh... uhm... morning..."

Keith laughed sleepily, eyes still squeezed shut, arms wrapped around the base of Rennie's torso. "You're too jumpy. You actually need coffee to calm down."

"It's a curse..." Rennie agreed, staring around wildly for his sweats. "I should go get us some coffee. There's a Donut King just around the corner-"

A finger reached up and pressed against the taur's lips. "Ssssshhhh," the fox breathed. "Coffee later. Just... just lay here with me. Please."

The fennec's ears drooped and his heart swelled, and he burrowed down and cuddled up to his mate. "Anything," he whispered. "Anything for you."

"Hold me before I figure out why we're not in our bed."

"Oh. Heh. Uhm... funny story..."

"My feet are cold."

"I know. Mine, too."

"That's ok," Keith yawned, his paws slipping down to where he could just barely reach Rennie's flanks. He pat the taur thoughtfully. "You sprang back."

Rennie's cheeks reddened when he remembered just how big he'd gotten last night. Giving Keith a maw-job was one thing, but when the fox was filling him up from behind even their immense bedroom was sometimes too small. It was hard to tell exactly what had transpired in the darkness of the gardens, but he distinctly remembered seeing the dim outline of his belly expanding as though a water main had burst somewhere inside of him, all four footpaws nearly vanishing and even his sinuses seemingly overflowing with seed. He must have passed out while still tied with Keith; his last memories was being stroked like a kitten, the fertile fox singing nonsense lullabies to his tail.

"Yeah," Rennie purred. "I guess I did."

"I can't tell if I should be worried or not," the sleepy fox noted, but from the tone of his voice it was evident he was leaning towards the former.

"Shhh, it's nothing, trust me. If anything, I feel better... and maybe this means sometimes I can have the coffee ready for YOU in the mornings."

In spite of himself, Keith chuckled, nuzzling closer. "You make a persuasive argument. Just don't think this means you get to lure me into abandoned urban greenspaces to have your wicked, wicked ways with me."

"Hey, as I remember it you dragged ME in here-"

"That was after you pinned me to the fence-"

"And that was after YOU accused me of-"

That same finger came up, shushing the fennec and bringing a smile to his lips. "No more of that. I'm sorry. Really."

"Don't ever be sorry around me," Rennie sighed, pulling Keith tighter. "Just be... YOU."

"Ditto with you."

The taur brushed a hindpaw against his nethers and nodded. Or maybe a little bit better...

After the brief panic of finding his sweats (they were in a rhododendron bush) without Keith noticing (he was quite occupied trying to start the long and involved process of getting his own lycra coverings on), the pair strode confidently out of the underbrush and onto a jogging path, eventually emerging around the corner from the promised land of the Donut King. They received numerous knowing glances from passing joggers and early-morning busybodies, and perhaps a couple disapprovingly clucked tongues from those on their way to church, but neither cared. Hands clasped together, whispering into eachothers ears and tittering like tween lovers, they ordered several large coffees and a box of deep fried pastries and headed for home.

Rennie was preoccupied by keeping his secret for just one more day, but he still glowed with affection for his lover, particularly after the last few conversations. Keith was scared, there was no doubt there, but Rennie was no longer afraid that the incredibly desirable (and sought-after!) fox was going to flee.

That had been a recurring topic early on in their relationship, though Keith hadn't mentioned it much since the previous summer. The big anthro had worked at S&B for many years, and in that time it was rumored that he had dated a significant portion of the employees there, both models and crew; Keith himself had confirmed those rumors as being verifiable fact. Most were just a few weeks, a few had managed to make it more than a month, and it was apparently only Rennie who had seen any particular reason to stay for longer than that.

For his own part, Rennie couldn't imagine how ANYONE could possibly spend a few weeks with Keith and then not want to spend the rest of their lives with him, but he supposed there was no accounting for taste.

"I need a shower," Keith grunted, rolling his shoulders meaningfully. "I'm not twenty-nine anymore... I can't spend all night sleeping on roots and not feel it in the morning."

"Do you need any help soaping up your sore.... Muscles?" Rennie purred into the fox's ear.

The hyper stiffened briefly, an audible gurgle forcing his lycra pants out several inches in all directions, before shaking his head. "Mercy, please," he giggled, half-turning and pressing himself against Rennie's torso. "I know you think us hypers can just go and go and go, but sometimes we just need to cuddle."

I know, Rennie thought, giving his love a kiss before shooing him off to shower alone. I just needed to make us showering separately YOUR idea!

While steam hissed out of the bathroom and Keith's terrible singing threatened to take the paint off the walls, Rennie examined his nude body in the mirror. He dearly wanted to see what he looked like hard, but even with how long his mate liked to spend in the shower it would probably be cutting it close, assuming he could manage to keep his paws off of himself.

His hips wiggled and he watched all that new mass jiggle and sway. I'd be considered considerably well-hung for a horse now, or a mink taur! Good gods, it feels like there's a bowling ball attached down there now... He was certain that fully hard he'd be able to touch his forelegs with his shaft, maybe even peek a few inches past. Just the thought of being able to do that sent a rush of blood to his loins, and he gasped when everything just bloated out half again as large.

And seemed to stay.

"O-oh-h-h," he moaned, eyes twitching. He lifted a hind paw and poked at himself with one toe; his sheath responded by twitching, crisscrossing veins distending so far as to be briefly visible through all the fluff, and pushing forwards another inch. "That's probably... not supposed to happen."

Obviously, the clinical trials were working. Well, only in a very technical sense... realistically, they weren't working at all, as Rennie did not suffer from any of the sexual dysfunctions he had mentioned on the application document, but the effect they were having on a normal body was obviously being compounded by the, ah, circumstantial effects of living with a hyper. His fingers drummed across his palms, tapping out the emergency contact number he'd memorized, but he stopped just long enough to pull on a pair of taurshorts before grabbing the phone.

"Yes," he hissed into the receiver, one huge ear aimed directly at the bathroom. "I need to talk to Doctor Schottenheimer right away! He said he could be reached at this number, day or night!"

"Yes, sir," a bored voice drawled from the other end of the line. "As I've said, this is just the City U Biomed Campus switchboard. Doctor Schottenheimer is currently running three trials out of this campus, but he is not actually here, sir. His name is just on the paperwork."

"Then who the hell did I talk to?" Rennie growled.

"I don't know, sir. If you could tell me which of the trials you are currently involved in, I can try to forward you to the appropriate Campus Liaison."

"S-..." he stammered, a little appalled to be saying it out loud. "Young Adult Sexual Dysfunction."

"Pardon, sir?"

"Oh, for fuck's..."

"Oh, wait, here it is. Hmmmm, there's no phone number, but the schedule indicates that they have lecture hall EM12 booked for the entire day. If you like, I can try to page-"

The shower squeaked off and Keith's off-key and off-color singing reached a crescendo. "Nevermind. All day? I'll be there," the frustrated taur grunted, thumbing the phone off and wondering which department that operator must have flunked out of to end up with such a job.

When the damp, tousled and thoroughly over-fluffed fox eventually wandered out of the bathroom, Rennie was busying himself putting together a couple snacks and a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen. He was used to doing most of the cooking in the evening, so it was a little strange to be trying to figure out where everything was at such an early hour.

"You next?" Keith grinned, rubbing a small towel across his chest and completely unconcerned with being otherwise quite naked.

Rennie's tail flagged and he whimpered in spite of himself, seeing a brightly-lit and wonderfully moist Keith standing nude in their living room. He'd seen thousands of pictures, of course, with professional lighting and even the computer-aided touch-ups, but they could never hold a candle to the real thing, more than a dozen heavy orbs straining at the seemingly too-thin velvet of his sac. The itch returned like a lightning bolt and suddenly the taurshorts felt very cramped. "I wish," he sighed grandly, pinching his hip to try and distract himself from the delicious sight. "Office called. Wifi went down in half the building, and apparently one of the backup e-mail servers doesn't seem to be there anymore. I swear, if they were filming another 'sexy intern' scene in the server room I'm going to smack a bitch."

Keith giggled, swaying carefully around the counter and reaching out to squeeze Rennie's paw. "You gotta go in?"

"I gotta go in. Just for a little bit." He felt bad lying to his beloved, but he told himself that he would reveal everything, everything, that night. This whole mess would be a hilarious story, he knew, one they'd chuckle over for years to come. He just had to get to the University and clear a few things up.

"Wouldn't dream of it," the fox whispered, pressing in very close, almost pinning Rennie to the cupboards with his sac and giving the taur a kiss on the tip of his muzzle. "Because, you know... I feel a _lot_better after that shower..."

A steady thumping filled the kitchen, both of their tails tick-tocking vigorously against the woodwork.

"You're making it very... hard... to pour my coffee," Rennie laughed, a little bit of panic in his voice.

"I can do a lot more than that..."

"I thought you needed to recharge?"

"What can I say? Something about you in tiny pants sets me off."

"We're together for a year and now you tell me this? I could have abused this knowledge so many times!"

"Just be glad there's still so much for us to learn about one another..."

Rennie nodded, slowly tracing his paw down Keith's slick ruff, heedless of the hidden motion against his underbelly. "We've got all the time in the world," he whispered thickly, nuzzling the taller fox.

"But the Wifi probably doesn't."

"Yeah, the... what?"

In a flash Keith was gone, bouncing and sloshing his way back to the bedroom. "Don't be gone too late, all right? If I start napping, I might never get my groove back."

Rennie stood alone in the kitchen, a cup of coffee jittering in one paw, so full of love and anxiety he thought he might just curl up into a ball and weep for one or both of them. Unfortunately weeping didn't fit anywhere into his schedule so he ground his teeth together, downed the coffee in a single pull, and grabbed his omnipresent messenger bag. "I won't be THAT late," he called as he disappeared through the door.

Keith called something muffled but undoubtedly X-rated from the bedroom, and laughed.

. . . . .

"And you're positive this is larger than you were on Friday?"

"YES!"

Lecture Hall EM12 was indeed booked for the operators of the clinical trial, although the very small print on the placard indicated that all corporate and private sponsorships were to remain anonymous under the purview of the trial director, Doctor Schottenheimer. The person that Rennie had presumed was the good doctor himself turned out to be only a third-year medical student, despite his clearly advanced age. The greying boar was currently locked with Rennie in one of the small offices between lecture halls, and the taur was sprawled out on his side on a heavy oak desk, shorts hanging from the expensive ornate hat rack in the corner.

The boar, wearing a white smock and looking for all the world like a prototypical gruff professor, leaned in a little bit closer. Rennie wasn't positive, not having taken measurements before rushing out that morning, but he would have bet good money that he'd grown since waking up in the park; the itch seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere, far too deep in his flesh to ever actually scratch to his satisfaction.

"You're su-"

"YES!" Rennie snapped for the third time. "Bloody bushels, you people took PICTURES of me down there on Friday! You can check for yourself!"

The boar blinked and pulled a phone out of his smock pocket. "Right, right," he said absently, thumbing it to life. "Sorry, I wasn't here for Friday's admissions."

"My confidence is being shaken," Rennie muttered, bringing one hindleg across his nethers for as much modesty as he could muster. There were half a dozen white smocks in the lecture hall, and another twenty well-dressed furres in expensive suits. Whatever was being discussed, it involved a lot of money. Rennie had only been able to attract the attention of the one medical student by clearing his throat loudly seven or eight times. "Is Doctor Schottenheimer in that room?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, he's... I'm not sure where he is. We met him a couple weeks ago when we signed on to run the trial for him. You wouldn't believe how big the textbooks we had to read were-

"I really don't care how hard your job is right now," Rennie rumbled. "Right now I just need to know that whatever you people did to my body has an off switch!"

"It's not so much an off switch as it is a synthetic polypeptide that bonds with the free valent molecules that are imitating the naturally-produced pubescent hormones that-"

"Still don't care."

"Ah. Well." The boar sniffed. "I realize this must be stressful, but you did sign the... ah, here we are! Callum, Renninald, Fennec, Taur, age twenty-two. Let's see, uhm... oh, wow." He looked up at Rennie's underbelly, eyeing the extremely substantial sheath and sac, then back at his phone. Then back to Rennie, then the phone again. "Yes, there seems to have been some... growth."

"No shit," Rennie growled, trying to sound threatening but not really sure if he'd succeeded. He'd never done it before. "So, do I qualify for the polypepticons now?"

"This kind of growth is really remarkable. I mean, other trials have encountered some nascent reactivation of gonad development, but this is something the literature most definitely did not cover! If you could stay here for a moment, I need to go get a sample kit-"

"Sample of what?"

"Oh, blood, spinal fluid, semen. Do you have half an hour? Forty five minutes?"

Rennie was off the desk in the blink of an eye, drawing himself up to his not-very-imposing full height and wishing he'd worn one of his manlier hoodies. Right now, a soft pink flannel number with the Panthera logo emblazoned across his chest was probably not helping his machismo. "I didn't come here to get further testing done, I came here to get the current testing finished."

"Yes, but this is a spectacular result! Unexpected, unforeseen, unpredicted, with unknown circumstances! Do you know how important this is to the trial and our sponsors? I could get my entire thesis out of this!" The boar's eyes were bright now, his speech rapid but clipped and professional. Ironically, this was the first time Rennie actually felt that he was dealing with someone halfway competent. "The clinical release forms do stipulate in no uncertain terms that in the case of unforeseen consequences we have at our discretion the right to perform any and all required testing to ensure the health and safety of all other trial participants, past present and future, so long as it doesn't threaten the health and safety of the clinical trial participant in question, which in this case is you, and you don't seem to be in any immediate health or unsafe circumstances. In fact, considering you lied on your forms, you're actually in markedly BETTER health than expected."

The taur smacked his forehead with a paw, muttering obscenities under his breath. "So you're telling me you're not going to fix this?"

"What? Oh, of course we are! Sir, we're doctors and medical students, NOT mad scientists," the boar said with just a hint of shock. "That's why we need to get the testing done NOW, before we administer any of the blocking agents!"

In the end, after having his signed release forms trotted out and explained to him once more, Rennie was forced to agree, and he even found himself a little proud to be a part of an exciting moment in medical history. The boar's energy was infectious, suddenly all professionalism, and when he returned with a small black bag full of needles and vials he was followed by two other besmocked students and a tall, dangerous-looking panther in a gunmetal grey pinstripe suit. The small office was not intended for that kind of audience, but Rennie absolutely refused to use the lecture hall platform for any of the tests, particularly the last one.

"Pull up a chair, make yourselves comfortable," Rennie grumped sourly, though no-one was paying any attention to his words or expression. All eyes were on the boar as he worked. One white coat was taking pictures, the other was taking notes, and the well-dressed feline just seemed to be taking it all in. Rennie winced at the needles, of which there seemed to be far too many, and sat stoically when a tiny square at the base of his tail was shaved to allow for better access. "Just make it so I can comb it over after," he snarked, to no acknowledgement.

Eventually, with the small bag full of clinking vials of every imaginable substance Rennie's body could apparently produce, everyone stood back, paws clasped together and staring at the taur as though he were an insect under glass.

He cleared his throat. "So, is that all of them?"

The smocks looked at eachother, but the younger medical students each took a step back, leaving the boar front and center. The tusked clinician glared at his colleagues but knew there was nothing else for it, not with one of the trial sponsors literally breathing down the back of his neck. "Ah, no, we still need the one final sample." He reached into the bag and produced a small package wrapped in clear plastic, handing it to the taur.

Rennie grabbed it with a crinkle, observing the biohazard symbols all over it. "Which is..." he started to say before suddenly recognizing the shape beneath the plastic. "Oh, you can't be serious."

"Just the one!" the boar said, palms up.

"You are NOT watching!" Rennie snapped, gripping the medical-grade septuple-XL condom tightly. "NO-ONE is watching!"

"Sir, we are medical doctors. Er, at least, we will be, and-"

"NO. ONE. IS. WATCHING."

"Then let us at least set up the video camera-"

"OUT!"

Unfortunately, that was where Rennie's resolve ran up against the collective impartial curiosity of the medical profession, and as affronted as he was there seemed to be no two ways around it. More forms were brought out and Rennie read these very carefully, ensuring that his name truly never would be associated with any video footage, and furthermore the footage would be sealed and only accessible by the directors of the clinical trials and any change to these conditions would require notarized approval of Rennie himself.

The office was generally undecorated, and the students helpfully removed all the chairs and wastebaskets and random little piles of books until it was just Rennie, the heavy desk, and a digital camera blinking merrily away on a tripod. He tried to lock the doors from the inside, but the doors had no such features; even the translucent panes of glass seemed like too little privacy, even though there was absolutely no way to make out anything even approaching details through the wavy, smoked little squares.

"Take your time!" the boar called helpfully through the door. "And please remember to tie it off carefully!"

"FU-" Rennie started, but caught himself. Steadying his nerves and breathing deep, he instead managed a stifled but polite, "All right."

He stared down at the crinkly package. It was about the size of a still-wrapped CD, and he blushed when he realized that this would actually fit him properly; in the past he'd always been able to buy just off-the-shelf at the pharmacy, and not even towards the end of the shelf. These ones were generally kept in the back, or had to be ordered online. Wow, he mused with a little smile, I'm a specialty size!

He carefully laid himself out on his side, underbelly aimed at the camera, and was instantly catching himself trying to keep his face turned away or at least shielded with his shoulder. He wondered if that would even matter... this was clinical trial data. It was sealed and anonymized. It wasn't like anyone was going to see it and judge him, criticize him, mock him, were they?

In that instant he thought of Keith, so tall and strong and confident, shaking like a leaf in the taur's arms, eyes wide with fear that Rennie might soon come to the perfectly natural conclusion that the hyper model was just a commodity, something to be enjoyed, consumed and discarded as so many others had. His media was created explicitly for that reason, tens of thousands of professional photographs and easily hundreds of scenes ranging from three minutes to over an hour; he was more of a public figure in terms of sheer representation than almost anyone on television or in the movies.

Rennie stared at the camera, glared,challenged it to somehow make him feel unworthy.

This is what Keith does for a living...

He took another deep breath, chest and barrel fluffing up, and flashed what he hoped was a winning smile, even winking at the camera.

"Here goes nothing," he chuckled, no longer afraid.

He pictured Keith in his mind, starting with his toes and working his way up. Of course, with Keith, a few inches above the toes you ran into the very lowest curves of his sac, but he supposed that was unavoidable. Shapely calves, impressively sturdy thighs for a fox, and the wide hips needed to carry and anchor an impossibly vast amount of production capacity. Many long, enjoyable, dimly-lit nights were spent in the vicinity of those hips...

Rennie gasped, feeling an immense pressure building at the base if his sheath and working its way forwards. His head swivelled slowly, almost afraid to look, as the heavy fuzzy mound strained against his soft underbelly, curving outwards from the sheer amount of flesh it struggled to contain. There's no way that's all me, he thought wildly as his cuff tightened almost to the point of pain before retracting, a heavy thump rattling the camera stand as two feet of bright pink cock spilled forth, easily six inches thick and still worryingly soft.

His hindleg slipped forwards, brushing the tips of his toes against himself and still a little startled to feel that everything was, in fact, all his. Ye gods, am I bigger than Keith now? He's about this big soft... though he might be a bit thicker...

The thought of being more endowed than the physical embodiment of everything Rennie had surreptitiously lusted after for most of his life sent a shiver through his body, and the new curves that science hath wrought responded immediately. Veins plumped up all across the surface and it practically leapt forwards, stiffening and thumping once against his barrel's sternum.

That's three feet now!

His gasp became a soft moan as the pale, silky fur of his undersides caressed his new flesh, more sensitive than he could ever recall. His heart pounded, and every lub-dub in his chest added another inch, a fraction more girth, and at least a pint to each of his balls which were now weighing very heavily against his hind legs. He might only have two to Keith's twenty-whatever seedmakers, but this was still the very definition of an unqualified success!

The tapered tip of his canid cock passed the little patch of grey fluff speckling his brisket (or at least they would be grey had he not discovered the right shade of fur dye), and he relaxed more fully onto his side and allowed all four footpaws at once to grip himself. "That's four feet, definitely," he mumbled, feeling drunk from the sensation. "That's bigger than..."

He glanced at the camera and caught himself before putting anyone else's names on the permanent record.

Slowly, all four footpaws (all four, he thought, at once!) began to stroke up and down, and he had to literally bite his tongue to keep from moaning loud enough for everyone in the department to hear. This is what it feels like for him? No wonder he does this for a living! He continued to harden, continued to swell outwards in tiny jerks, but he knew he was nearing his peak, the very tip almost level with his forelegs. So close! But this is still more than I even dreamed of...

So close...

So close...?

SO CLOSE!

His hands grasped for the condom as his knot bloomed, a tense sphere of rapidly-tightening skin the size of a basketball making him whimper in ecstasy. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck," he muttered, tearing at the packaging and pulling the little (hah!) latex disc free. Rennie had done this a hundred times, but never quite in this way, and he fumbled and somehow missed twice before successfully managing to roll it down the nearest foot of quivering maleness, already glistening and dripping like a faucet.

Well, you wanted a sample, he thought, smiling once more for the camera as his hindpaws dragged the condom as far down as it would go, shy of his knot by a few inches and still rather uncomfortably snug. Let's hope your lab techs can do something with... with... oh, fuck me...

His eyes widened as his sac began to swell anew, the twin velvety pupmakers shuddering as the delicate skin struggled to keep up. Each one was definitely bigger than any of Keith's now, but with each passing second that mound rose, now pressing against his tailhole as they tightened. Is that supposed to happen?! he thought madly, eyes rolling back white as the burning hot climax broke down whatever final barriers had been in his way.

Rennie's paws clenched around himself, especially around the base of the condom, as he erupted. Almost instantly his forelegs were hugging a surging white beachball, paws sinking into it as it wobbled and swayed. His hips pumped and ground forwards and the beachball became a beanbag, far too large for him to ever get his paws around. Again and again he came, and bigger and bigger that latex orb grew until it obscured his view of the camera completely and he was forced to scoot backwards lest it start to overtake his body.

He lost track of time, but when his senses finally came down from outer space his hips were still twitching and pumping uselessly against the condom, filled so obscenely full that it hardly seemed to sag under it's own weight at all.

"Where do you buy these?" he moaned through thick lips, trying to uncross his eyes. "I'm definitely... definitely going to need some. I bet Keith knows where to get 'em..."

When his paws began to respond once more he wriggled his way backwards, sliding himself free from the tortured prophylactic and hastily tying it with a dexterity he didn't even know he possessed. Managing to get upright on his third try he really wasn't surprised to see that it was slightly taller than he was and probably seven feet across, taking up more floor space than even the giant oak desk.

"Uhm," he cleared his throat, feeling the air conditioning playing across his still-tumescent four feet of shaft, the very tip bobbing wetly against the linoleum. "Could someone please get me a couple towels?"

. . . . .

It was another hour before he was able to get away from the slightly too-interested doctors-to-be, and he wasn't exactly thrilled about all the attention he was getting from the older folks in the suits (particularly when they refused to divulge their names or affiliations). Rennie had to sit through another couple interviews, with two separate labcoats asking many of the same questions twice, and many more photographs were taken with the boar holding up a tape measure helpfully. The taur eventually had to threaten to call campus security to get them to administer the polypepsin... polypepto... the whatever injection that would clear the offending substances out of his system.

Walking home he still felt as though he were trotting through a dream. Monday morning he'd gotten wind of the clinical trial. Wednesday morning he'd been pre-approved online. Friday at lunch he filled out a patient history and got a simple jab in his hindquarters, and he'd expected weeks, maybe months, of potentially nonexistent progress.

Now it was forty-eight hours later and he was actually having to walk with his hind legs splayed apart just to cope with the extra weight and sway. Even when he and Keith had gone camping and he'd been heavily laden with saddlebags of gear and wine it hadn't been this bad. His taurshorts had been loose when he bought them but now they were almost clinging to his immense endowments.

Hardly immense... he thought, thinking of Keith. At best Rennie had just levelled the playing field, so to speak. But still... it was impossible, it was intense, and it was all his.

"And soon it can be all yours," he murmured thoughtfully, feeling another twinge in his nethers as all that new mass yearned to rise once more. He giggled, imagining the sorts of 'ask your doctor if this drug is right for you' commercials that this medication might create. "Damn, this stuff sure works! They could call it 'Viagrow'..."

He was blind to most of the looks that he was now getting, but he would have recognized the expressions since he was generally the one making them. His stomach grumbled angrily when he finally got near his building, realizing that the donuts and crullers he'd consumed before calling the trial runners had apparently had zero effect, and the sheer amount of coffee was making his nerves sing. He desperately needed a shower, still rather sticky from his sample-giving, and he was craving orange juice to replenish all those electrolytes, but more than anything he needed to see what was in their refrigerator and then consume all of it.

"Yellow?" he called, stepping into their apartment. "Sweetie?"

The apartment felt empty, and sure enough there was a note stuck to the fridge with a rather X-rated Sluggo & Boyce magnet. "Dear that guy I sleep with," Rennie read, blushing at Keith's particular brand of dry humor. "Sale at Bulk Barn. Need to go make many terrible decisions. Certainly not doing sneaky sneaky anniversary stuff. Heart heart heart heart and... what appears to be a doodle of me fwoomped up as big as a house and kind of heart shaped. D'awww."

His fingers traced down the obscene but still incredibly touching sketch, admiring the way it captured how all four of his hindpaws all tended to go off in different directions when he was on the receiving end of Keith's affections and wondering if he was going to have to get good at sketching just so he could return the favor. The big fox was rarely the one getting filled on-camera, and never by anyone even approaching his own size, but he had said it definitely helped him understand why some people liked to be spectacularly inflated.

"Now you can find out more for yourself," he whispered, shedding his garments while rummaging through the kitchen. When he eventually managed to trundle into the bathroom his arms were filled with all manner of foods, which he carefully piled up against one of the high shelves in the huge double shower before turning both faucets on.

The shower had been one of Rennie's revelations upon moving in with Keith. Growing up and in college he'd always just stuffed himself into the standard sized models, and he wasn't even a particularly large taur. He knew there were showers designed for extra large folk such as himself, but he'd never really gotten the chance to enjoy them. Keith might only be a two-footed fox, but his sheer circumference required quite a bit of room to maneuver, especially during cleaning, and now Rennie couldn't imagine ever going back.

Once the steam started to really close in on him he fumbled through the groceries on the shelf, normally reserved for fancy soaps and the occasional waterproof lubricant, slowly devouring a fairly balanced mountain of fruits, vegetables and deep-fried 'healthy' snack foods. Keith was on screen professionally, and therefore had to watch his diet like a hawk, as well as spending better than a dozen hours a week in the S&B gym. Still, there were ways to cheat the system...

"Nacho Bacon Chick Peas," Rennie chuckled, reading the bag through the mist while he chewed. "High in protein, high in fibre, and not actually completely like spicy sawdust. Allrighty then."

His heart seemed to be trying to rise out of his chest. His paws tapped to music he couldn't hear. His tail swished this way and that, a sodden wrecking ball of wet fur. He twirled while he ate, luxuriating in the way all of his new flesh danced and bounced against his legs and underbelly. Despite the awkwardness of his morning, he didn't think it was possible for anything to ruin his mood.

I did it, he thought. A whole year. With the most perfect fox in the world. A year that he never thought would happen. And I can finally show him how I REALLY feel about him...

He scratched at the itch just above and behind his sheath, which had only grown more frustrating since the second injection, but the clinicians had assured him that was probably perfectly natural and was just indicative of his chemical balances returning to normal. After twenty minutes in the shower and finally starting to feel like his old self once more he hoped that was true, because he wasn't sure if the mood swings and crazy appetite were going to make him enjoyable company for the fox of his dreams!

He reached up blindly for something else to eat, but found only wrappers, empty boxes of juice and a few sad apple cores. He frowned, but his belly did seem to be considerably less grumbly so he just shrugged and decided it was probably time to start the long and very involved process of drying off. The faucets squeaked, the double sprays from overhead faded to a scalding drip drip drip and he reluctantly left the warm, foggy womb of the shower, grabbing at the mountain of towels that always stood sentry.

As soon as the first wave of colder outside air touched his fur he winced, wrapping his arms around himself as his footpaws nimbly started to rub his underbelly down with still more terrycloth towels while he flicked his tail behind him, trying to dislodge as much water as possible while it was still within the confines of the shower. Sometimes he pondered changing up his furstyle just to make this whole ritual easier, but he just couldn't imagine not being Keith's 'big fluffy Renniebear'.

His footpaws stopped waxing on and waxing off, and his torso swivelled around. The memories of the campus office were still incredibly fresh in his mind, from the way his sac framed his hindlegs to the way his sheath had seemed to curve outwards just before dropping, how everything had looked and felt and even smelled. It was going to be playing when he closed his eyes for quite some time.

So with that intense, visceral imagery to draw upon, it was easy enough to compare himself to the morning's exertions and notice some definite differences.

"Uhm," he said, eyeing a shower-slicked sheath that was significantly larger and thicker than he'd shown the lab-coated boar. He squeezed it once and it bulged rather comically, soft to the touch. "That's... huh."

A little further back, apparently masked during his shower by the weight of his tail, his balls swayed and gurgled contentedly, each one now definitely larger than watermelons and from the way the velvety white fur tugged and bunched he knew they were far, far from full. Many long nights with Keith had taught him that.

The itch seemed to dig at him from inside, and everything down there responded by filling out just a little bit more.

"Oh... kay..."

The front door slammed shut. "Hey, babe!" Keith called. "You home? I... oooooh, in the shower, eh?"

I really need to get to the phone, Rennie thought wildly. I have a lot of yelling to do at a lot of wanna-be labcoat doctors fuck fuckitty fuck fuck fuck...

And yet, a small and somewhat repressed part of his mind was delirious with joy and seemed to be eagerly awaiting the return of that ominous itch. How many nights had he fantasized about this very thing while growing up? Feeling everything down there expand, growing to match his lusts, forcing his legs apart, heavier by the second...

His chest heaved and his ears flipped around, frozen in place by the twisted and tangled emotions. This was more than he'd ever really truly EXPECTED, even when he considered plastic surgery after maybe someday winning the lottery. Keith had always scoffed at that, insisting that there was absolutely nothing wrong with the body that Rennie had been given, but there were strange little quirks that even Keith's love couldn't entirely erase.

Well, he thought, hearing the door handle rattle. No time like the present...

Keith's nose appeared around the corner of the door, whiskers swishing, but there was a heavy thumping and sliding as his colossal sac kept him from actually peeking his eyes around. "Need any help drying off?" he murred, a common ritual.

"Uhm... sure," Rennie almost whispered, tail drooping.

"You ok? You seem down. Did you choke a bitch?"

In spite of his anxiety, Rennie giggled. "Didn't have to. Lucky me."

The door inched open and Keith sauntered in, already shirtless and twirling a small plastic baggie of what Rennie instantly recognized as his favorite rainbow-colored gummi foxes. "In that case I have the sure thing to perk you up! Now don't eat the whole bag in one day this time, OK? I know they're fat free, but all that sugar will just go right... to... your... uhm..." The heavily-laden fox stopped a few paces into the enormous, steamy space, baggie drooping. "I thought that was just an expression..."

Rennie snorted, a high-pitched whistling grunt of every half-formed explanation trying to rush out all at once. He angled a fraction more to the side, bringing more of his body into view, but Keith's eyes weren't on his broad, sandy-brown flanks. "I was... see, I had... there was this... I didn't really plan on this being an anniversary present, but... well, things sort of... surprise?" he hazarded, his huge grin not doing much to disguise the worry in his eyes.

Keith was carefully expressionless, one paw tapping the baggie of gummies against his hidden thigh, the other gently petting his right uppermost teste, a habit that Rennie had often observed and secretly found adorable. "You didn't have to go in to the office this morning, did you?"

"Not as such, no..."

"This is why you've been wearing shorts and sweats for the last week?"

"Just the last two days, actually."

"Hmm. Is this temporary?"

"I, uhm... no, not as far as I know."

"I see."

The shower drip-drip-dripped as the two vulpines spoke, and Rennie's heart began to sink. "It was supposed to take a LOT longer than this," he explained quickly, inching towards his beloved but not trying to rush him or frighten him off. "Seriously, they said it was going to take weeks for noticeable effects, but there was apparently some sort of unforeseen conflict with the chemicals considering I didn't perhaps have quite the level of sexual dysfunction as I claimed on the form, AND they think it might have something to do with you fwomping me on Friday night, and then again on Saturday night, because that was thousands of times more hormones suddenly flooding my system..." The lab coats had seemed very intrigued at the possibility that an outside factor as improbable as a genetically compatible hyper might have produced such staggering results, and some of the suits had begun immediately making phone calls after that fact was revealed.

"I... see," Keith mused, brows furrowed. He leaned to the side, openly eying up Rennie's new sac, heavy swaying orbs that he could probably only barely get his arms around. "Trying to get a different job at Sluggo & Boyce?"

"What? No!" Rennie blinked, having never even considered that. "I did this for you!"

"For me."

"Yes!" Keith's expression didn't budge, and Rennie was starting to realize that he'd made a huge miscalculation. "I... look, I know I can't compare with anyone else that you work with. You spend all day with people a billion times hotter than me, doing all of these incredible things on film, and then you come home to-"

"Don't you dare say that."

The taur froze, ears back and tail drooping from the ice in Keith's voice. "I like your job," he murmured, "I _like_that you get to be so open about those things, it just-"

"You were going to say something like 'and then I come home to someone as plain as you', weren't you?"

"I... well, I mean, yeah, of course, I don't-"

Keith dropped the baggie of gummies, turned with a steam-swirling whoosh of his ponderous sac and walked out of the washroom, leaving Rennie alone with his towel. Moving with elaborate care, he moved to pick it up, focusing all of his confusion on the tiny rainbow foxes swirled through with white, mouth already watering at the thought of their mysteriously random flavors.

They were my favorite, he thought sadly. I mentioned it on our second date, and on our third date he bought he a one-pound bag of them, and I ate them all, and he laughed at my tummy ache and we kissed...

"Keith," he called, standing in the hallway. "I... look, I don't know what to say-"

"You just wanted our life together to be just like one of my movies?" the fox replied from the kitchen, where he was roughly making himself a sandwich. "I mean, more so than it already was."

"Well... kind of... I just wanted to give you something I couldn't! You know I'd always dreamed of being a hyper, just like you all, from the first time I heard about them as a pup! I was counting down the days until puberty kicked in and I'd get to find out if that was in my genes or not, but I just ended up a runt! Fuck, I'm a taur and you're taller than me!"

"And size is everything?"

"Now that's not fair and you know it!" Rennie snapped, clapping both of his paws to his muzzle in shock. I've never raised my voice to him before, ever! Not in anger, at least... what am I doing?!

It was Keith's turn to droop, shoulders sagging as the spreading peanut butter tore at the bread. "I know that's not you," he murmured. "I know you're better than that, I'm sorry. I just... you think that what I wanted out of our relationship was for you to be carrying around a deadly weapon like that all the time? Because people don't look funny at us enough already?"

"I don't care what other people think, I care what YOU think!"

"Obviously not-" Keith finished making his sandwich, but he made no attempt to eat it. "Look, this just isn't quite what I expected this morning."

"Me either," Rennie whimpered. "I thought maybe an extra couple inches, maybe a little more, and I'd stop feeling like the punchline to a bad joke when people see us, and maybe I'd get to make you feel how you make me feel."

"I thought you didn't care what people think?"

"I don't, but I know you do." Rennie moved around the kitchen counter, slipping his arms across Keith's broad chest and around his shoulders. "I know that you hear the giggles on the street and you want to pull away when we're holding hands. I know that you try to get more speaking roles in the S&B features and they keep shooting you down, and you always have an extra glass of wine when that happens. I know that you put off meeting my parents until Crimbo and even then you didn't even want to sleep in the same bed as me, and we were staying at a hotel! I know that YOU are harder on yourself than anyone else and nothing I seem to do ever convinces you that maybe people can like you for something other than all THIS!"

Rennie punctuated his point by dropping his paw to Keith's lap, black cycle-style shorts stretched around several hundred pounds of ridiculously responsive flesh, and giving it a tender squeeze.

Keith inhaled slowly, one arm creeping around Rennie's waist, and sighed. "And you thought the best way to do that was to join me in the hyper club?"

Rennie thumped his forehead gently against Keith's muzzle. "Like I said, it was just supposed to be a little bit extra, to help me feel better about myself and maybe help me help you feel better... but then things got a little out of hand and about a thousand wishes I made when I was younger all came true at once."

"Even though you know that every relationship I've ever had with anyone who had... endowments of unusual size," Keith said, lips twitching up slightly, "ended like half a season of a Fox sitcom."

"And you think that'll happen just because now I've got a little extra girth."

"A little extra...!?"

"Just answer the question!"

Keith turned his head but Rennie stopped him with his own. "I... well... that's the whole point of a porn movie, right? It makes you feel good... then it ends, and you go back to your real life."

"So everyone you dated knows that your toes wiggle during fight scenes in action movies," Rennie purred, squeezing Keith a little tighter.

"Uhm... I dunno, maybe?"

"Everyone else you dated knows that you keep the peanut butter above the toaster and you keep the honey above the coffee machine even though you only ever use them at the same time?"

"Well, I sometimes have honey in my coffee, and-"

"Everyone else you dated knows that you own eleven copies of The Bachman Books and every time you find another copy in a thrift store or at a garage sale you have to buy it?"

"I only own ten-"

"It's eleven. Trust me." Keith's lips trembled silently as he performed his own mental count, and the blush rising in his ears was all the confirmation Rennie needed. "And everyone else you dated knows that even though you spend your days, nights and weekends doing unspeakably naughty things to strangers on film for obscene amounts of money, you also secretly moonlight as Keisha's assistant in the costume department and help hir out with all of the period pieces?"

For the first time since he'd gotten home, Keith genuinely smiled, pressing his own forehead to the side of Rennie's muzzle. "A couple of them knew, but they laughed at me and told me that it was funny..." he murred, the black lycra shorts creaking and rustling as the tremendous mass beneath shifted and swelled.

"I think we can admit that maybe I should have talked to you about this first, and I'm probably going to be sleeping on the couch for a couple nights until I can find a boombox and blast Careless Whisper through our bedroom window from the parking lot, but... I love you," Rennie breathed, voice cracking. "And if you can learn to love the new me, I promise I will talk to Dr. Schottenheimer and see what we can do about bringing things back down to a more... manageable sizemmpphh!"

Keith's spine was marvellously flexible; the statuesque fox twisted in Rennie's arms and smothered the taur's words with his lips, digging his fingers into the back of the fennec's head. Rennie squeaked in surprise, paws flapping before he melted against the taller anthro, clinging to his shirtless mate and slowly pushing him back against the kitchen counter. Just on the periphery of his senses he could feel that maddening itch return to his underbelly, a tingling warmth spreading through and making him feel damp all over again.

"I just want you to know..." Keith gasped between kisses, "that I loved you... no matter what your size was... because you were really... really... good... at using... what you had..."

Rennie's ears perked up. I sense a 'but' in there...

"But... I don't think I want you... to sleep on the couch... until we see just what... you can do... with the new... you..."

Keith's sac gurgled and expanded all at once, pushing the pair of them away from the long-forgotten sandwich, and Rennie found enough strength to pull away from the stronger fox's embrace. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" he leered, eyes flicking over to the bedroom.

"Hey, I just want to know what it feels like to be you for once," Keith giggled. "And to be honest, I don't think I've ever seen a fennec carrying around that much... gods, you look like you've got a little baby-belly down there!"

"'Little'?"

"Oh, shut up and help me get my shorts off... and just so you know we're going to argue about this more later!"

"Awww...!"

"I'm still angry! I'm just... other stuff, too..."

It was a bit of a process to get out of the kitchen and into the specially-designed safety of their bedroom, with the vast padded floors and high-capacity emergency drainage, but they both knew that was the only way they were going to keep the damage deposit on the apartment. With Rennie walking backwards and helping Keith wriggle one leg out at a time, the pair eventually collapsed in a giggling, fondling pile of golden fur amidst their collection of random mismatched blankets and throw pillows.

"I'm sorry," Rennie breathed, nibbling at Keith's neck as his heavy footpaws began to roam the familiar but exciting territory of Keith's many, many balls.

"I'm sorry, too," Keith moaned, arching his back and stretching now that his body was no longer supporting that quarter ton of extra flesh.

"We're both sorry..."

"You should be more sorry, though..."

"You just have to win, don't you?"

"Of course," the fox grinned, pressing his nose against Rennie's and staring into his huge, dark eyes. "That was bad, and you should feel bad."

"I dunno, it feels pretty good..."

Both of them turned and twisted to stare down at Rennie's underbelly, the lanky taur rolling over onto his back to put his new gifts on display. "Damn," Keith swore, slipping a paw between the fennec's forelegs. "You were NOT that big this morning!"

"No, there was some... last-minute growth," Rennie laughed nervously. "They needed me to provide a, uhm... sample. And since I wouldn't let them watch, they had to... film it. And I'll swear I grew during that!"

Keith froze, his fingers just touching the twitching cuff of Rennie's enormous new sheath. "You had to paw off on film? And you got bigger DURING it?!"

"Yeah..." Three sets of paws fiddled nervously. "I just... thought of you. You do it for a living, so how could I not see what it was like to be you?"

"Are you going to grow this time?"

"No! They gave me the polydactyl... uhm.. polypotent... whatever it was stuff that counteracts the chemicals in my system."

"Oh," Keith breathed. "Good..."

"Is that 'good' as in 'thank goodness' or 'good' as in 'darn'?"

"Just... shut up," the fox grinned, tracing his fingers along one of the few sheaths he'd ever seen that came close to rivaling his own. "This is not thinky time."

"Now you sound like me!"

Rennie wriggled around on his back until the sprawled-out Keith was able to reach all of his new endowments. The fox rest his cheek against the taur's sheath, able to hear as well as feel the flesh within swelling and pushing forward, that fuzzy mound expanding like a colossal loaf of bread rising in the oven. His paws played across Rennie's balls, veins thickening and pulsing furiously just below the surface, churning sounds rising and falling as they filled out bigger with each passing moment.

"Oh... boy..." Keith quivered, watching all of that maleness develop. His own legs were being forced slowly apart as his own arousal became more obvious, but he was determined to make this as much about his stupid beloved taur as possible. "I'm suddenly feeling very... nervous."

"Now you know how I feel?" Rennie giggled, leaning up in one elbow and running his fingers through Keith's hair while the anthro explored his new dimensions. "And everyone else you've ever pressure-tested?"

"Y-yeah..." Rennie's sheath continued to engorge, now well past his sternum and rapidly closing in on his forelegs, and he hadn't even begun to peek out yet. "How big were you when they filmed you?"

"A little over... mmmm, four feet, I think..."

"I think you're going to be a little bit more than that. Uhm... professional opinion..."

Rennie seemed to notice his own anatomy for the first time and gasped. "Oh, fuck... that's a lot more than I was this morning! Uhm... do you need me to call them again and-"

"NO!"

"Are... what? Are you sure?"

When Keith looked up at him there was a new, wild fury in his eyes. "How fair is it for me to turn tail and run away the first time you find out what it's really like to be a hyper?"

"Well, I... uhm... I guess-"

"Guessing nothing. I've kind of always wanted to try this," Keith tittered, kissing along a sheath that was rapidly becoming every inch as big as Rennie's entire barrel, fur stretched so tight the faint outlines of bunched tendons was just barely visible. "Remember 'Magic Mink III: Big Top Mink'?"

Rennie's brows furrowed. "The... porn movie? Yeah, you bought that for me for Hallowe'en. It... oh, gods, you mean-"

"Yes."

"You want me to-"

"Yes."

"And you-"

"YES!"

"But you-"

"DON'T CARE!"

Paws flailing frantically, Rennie tried to roll over onto his stomach, or at least where his stomach would have been had he not grown so ponderously over-endowed that his sheath was starting to push out between his forelegs and his hindlegs simultaneously. He gasped, spying several inches of fuscia flesh just beginning to emerge, leaking more pre in a steady stream than he'd ever managed during his wildest orgasms. With Keith's help they eventually managed to get him on all fours, but his body was resting entirely on his sheath and he was merely using his tippy-toes for balance. "This can't be happening!" he moaned, his wildest fantasies soon being left by the wayside.

"It can and it is and I don't know whether to yell at you or propose right now," Keith laughed manically, years of practice allowing him to get to his feet without assistance. In one hand he held one of the thin silky top sheets that he preferred to use when the weather was hot and muggy. "It's no magic lasso, but I guess it will have to do?"

"Are you sure? I mean, this is all very new-"

Keith stared at Rennie, the slim and slender taur now actually having a hard time keeping all four paws on the ground while straddling a sheath that had to be better than six feet long, while just beyond his twin pupmakers continued to gurgle and swell, their combined mass probably greater than the fox's own many multiple pairs.

"YES."

With one final tender kiss and embrace, Keith spun around and slammed his hips against Rennie's waist, twisting the silky sheet up into a ropey length and wrapping it around their bodies. He knotted it hastily, keeping it low on his hips, and then added several more knots after a moment's thought.

Rennie wrapped his arms around Keith's body, fingers playing across his belly and chest, before whispering into his ear, "Whatever happens... I love you."

"I love you, too," Keith breathed, rolling his hips expertly and bending his knees until his rump was massaging the badly-straining front of the taur's sheath. His ears flipped nervously when he felt just how much fennec there was, but he supposed after the hundreds of times he'd bloated his sweet Rennie to ridiculous sizes, fair was fair. "Ankles!"

"Mmmmf... what?" Rennie was having a hard time focusing his eyes, parts of his body going numb while others became far, far too sensitive.

"Ankles!" Keith yowled, feeling the heat against his backside growing alarmingly. "ANKLES!"

Rennie remembered the final scene in the movie and quickly grasped Keith's ankles with his powerful forepaws, just in time for his sheath to reach its ultimate capacity. He threw back his head and howled, though it was a weak, breathless, half-dazed yowl as his cuff retracted and several feet of soft, impossibly thick canid shaft had nowhere to go except forwards.

Keith, just for a moment, feared that he'd made a terrible decision. His legs felt like they were going to be yanked out of their sockets, Rennie's surprisingly strong grip not loosening in the slightest, the silk sheet digging into his hips. He'd always assumed that some sorts of special effects had been used for the ending of the Magic Mink movies, but after meeting the Magic Mink himself at an adult video trade show the month before he'd realized that where there was a hyper and a will, there was always a way.

Rennie's colossal but still only semi-soft shaft surged forwards, the taur arching his back to ease the pressure and Keith curving like a compound bow, but biology would not be denied. Keith's already ample hips and eager tailhole parted and the fox's belly stretched in ways he'd never before dared, clearly outlining the taur's tapered cock. In moments he was more fuzzy condom than anything else as Rennie's shaft continued to pump into him, foot after foot with nowhere else to go.

"Oh... fuck..." they gasped together, seeing the poor anthro's body so distended by more than ten feet of aroused fennec, then eleven feet, then twelve. With every beat of his heart he hardened still further, until with a squeal of mixed delight and terror the very tip made contact with the far wall.

Keith's tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth, his paws caressing his lover's cock through his own drum-tight bellyfur. His own shaft was hidden from view, rubbing against the underside of Rennie's, but for perhaps the first time in his life he felt small, even though his body had never before been so swollen.

As though waiting to be jinxed, Rennie's hyperness jerked within him and the first heavy splashes of pre flowed into the trapped fox, dozens of gallons of seed softening his outline considerably.

"Are... are you ok...?" Rennie wheezed, clinging to his lover. Four feet long at the clinic this morning, and now THIS?! "Keith?"

"N-never... better..." he moaned, wriggling in disbelief. He'd been with some big furres before, some of them even more endowed than he himself was, but this was an order of magnitude more than anything he'd ever experienced. "J-just... one... problem..."

"What?!"

"I m-made... reservations... for an early... supper..."

Rennie blinked, and started to chuckle. Soon the both of them were laughing, Keith's staggeringly distorted figure bouncing and jiggling. "I don't think we're going to make it, sweetie," Rennie purred, pumping his hips slowly until he realized that it was having absolutely no effect. All four of his footpaws paddled at the air, his entire body now supported by the base of his cock.

"F-fuck it..." the fox moaned. "Next week..."

"Fuck you into next week? If you insist..."

"NO! Well... yes..."

"Unff... honey, you might need to do most of the work, though. I am a little high-centered."

Keith glanced back and down, eyes huge and adoring. "No no, there's a trick to this. Lean back, way back... try to sit on your haunches..."

Paws pushing at the bunched collar of his sheath and the all-too-turgid sides of his shaft, Rennie wriggled backwards until he seemed to overbalance. He gasped as his cock angled up, thumping against the ceiling and taking Keith along with it, and his hindlegs came to rest once more on solid ground, his vast and still-filling balls weighing heavily against his backside. "Ohh, wow," he moaned, eyes crossing. "S-so that's how they do it..."

Realizing that a good deal more of his body was accessible now, he gripped Keith's hips with his forelegs and began to rock back and forth, slowly tugging the hyper fox back and filling him up with still more tumescent flesh. Keith was trying to say something, but all that came out were a series of breathy, hysterical yips.

Tomorrow I'm going to have to call Dr. Schottenheimer. Tomorrow I'm going to have to call in sick. Tomorrow I'm going to have to spend a lot of time talking to Keith about all of my hangups, and all of his hangups, and see if we can make them mesh. Tomorrow I'm going to have a lot to do to prepare for the future.

"But today, I'm just grateful to be able to experience this... with you... my love," he crooned soothingly into Keith's ear, caressing the fox's muscular chest as they embraced before moving on to explore the titanic outline of his own foxhood.

"What do we do... if the room... isn't big... enough...?" Keith whimpered, writhing in ecstasy.

"Shhh... we'll figure that out tomorrow."

"But-"

"Tomorrow..."

Keith nodded, slumping back against the taur's body, rubbing his muzzle alongside his mate's neck. "I never knew... this was what it felt like..."

"Oh, but sweetie... the best is yet to come..."

"I hoped you'd say that..."

Rennie's rhythmic grinding became halting, erratic. His forelegs still gripped desperately at Keith's cartoonishly spread hips, as though he might still somehow slip out, but when his knot bloomed the pair cried out as one. Keith's body bloated out almost spherical now, completely obscuring the normally staggering size of his own sac, but the towering outline of Rennie's shaft somehow found the strength to push forward a little more.

"H-how do you... not pass out... from this...?" Rennie wailed, sweat dripping from his whiskers. "I feel like I'm about to explode!"

"YOU feel like that...!" Keith chortled in disbelief. "I'm as big as... as..."

"No wonder you decided to get _paid_to do this..."

"No wonder you're always trying to get your maw on me..."

"I don't think I'm ever getting a muzzle job again, that's for sure..." Rennie pouted, finally seeing one downside to the accidental growth.

"Mmmm, no, but... there are a few of my movies that... I think we can try to recreate now... only with you playing me..."

"Oh, gods, yes! The one with the jackalboi...?"

"You beast!" Keith howled, rubbing his paws as hard as he could across his belly, feeling Rennie's steel-cord tendons pulsing just below the surface. "He almost didn't survive that!"

"But he sure looked like he was having fun!"

"We're not going to do it in a real restaurant, are we?"

"Maybe..."

"This is a new side of you!"

"No, this is just the side of me that grew up wanting to be hyper..."

"He and I are going to have a talk about boundaries."

"La la la, he's not listening! He's... oh... oh fuck... fuck fuck fuck!"

Keith hiccuped, wondering how much more abuse his insides could handle, when he suddenly felt the hidden undersides of Rennie's cock bulge alarmingly. "Ohhhh, I know what that means," he winced, reaching back and twining his fingers behind Rennie's neck. "This is... this is it, sweetie... d-don't hold back... I can take it..."

"H-hope so... not sure I could... hold back if I tried... ohhhhh, gods, it feels like this for you every time?!"

"Well, scaled down a few yards, yeah..."

Keith's body, especially the skintight outline of Rennie's dick, began to soften and plump up once more as the taur's flow increased from spurts to a steady firehose flow. Both vulpines tried to buck their hips, but they were locked together so tight that any actual motion could hardly be measured by the finest equipment available. Keith's paws sank into his own bellyfur now, ripples and sloshes putting him in mind of a waterbed he'd once owned, and the waterbed he so often turned Rennie into.

"We'll both call in sick tomorrow..."

"Yeah..."

"I'm going to need to buy new clothes..."

"Hehe, yeah..."

"Will you marry me?"

Keith swallowed, leaning back as far as his tortured physique would allow, and kissed his beloved and now betrothed fennec. "I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to ask that..."

"I j-just wanted to get it out now in case... in case I black out..."

"When you wake up, the answer will still be yes," Keith giggled.

The response was immediate and electric. Rennie's entire body stiffened and the poor taur snarled as his new and untested anatomy struggled to cope with his inflamed passions. Keith could feel his hips spread even further as the first enormous wave of Rennie's orgasm surged through both of their bodies, the distant tip of his belly ballooning outwards with comic vigor. In that one single burst he seemed to double in size, arms sinking into his torso and the pressure against his insides skyrocketing.

Rennie thrust hard, actually managing to drive himself deeper into his inflating over, as he geysered again and again and again. Keith just had time to wish he'd installed a video camera somewhere before his burgeoning belly rose up to meet his face, feeling like little more than a little pup stuck to the side of a bouncy castle that was being wildly misused. Slowly his arms and legs were forced back by the ridiculously overfilled mound that was his torso, more and more delicious weight pressing down on his obscured nethers.

"One wall... two walls... oh, gods, three walls..." he moaned, nuzzling the vertical curve of gurgling fluff that had so recently been his sternum, feeling his distant anatomy filling every nook and cranny of the huge master bedroom. "R-Rennie... how... how much..."

They tied pair yipped in surprise as Keith's ever-growing figure began to push back, pressing the anthro against Rennie's chest and forcing them both against the fourth remaining wall. "That much!" Rennie wheezed, body twitching and shuddering as he continued to come. "S-sorry..."

"Never be sorry..." Keith gurgled, wondering how much more his body could stand before it started coming out of his ears. "Just... keep going..."

"Oh, that's definitely happening!"

Alarming sounds began to emanate from the floor and ceiling, joining the creaks and rumbles that Keith's body had been making for several moments now. Despite Rennie's knot being nearly the size of most major household appliances, seed was starting to leak and spray back against the taur's underbelly as the fox reached his ultimate limits, limbs splayed in all directions and starting to disappear into the quivering mountain of hyper-tensed flesh.

When it seemed as though the building simply couldn't take any more, Rennie finally felt the rising waves of hormonal lust begin to ebb and flow away, leaving him drenched with sweat and feeling for all the world like a wilted flower. Arms shaking weakly he caressed the impossible curves of his lover, nuzzling Keith's ears and licking at the back of his neck. "Oh... my... gods..." he panted, unable to see much beyond the horizon-filling golden haze of Keith's belly. He smiled, remembering the first words he'd heard after the first time the hyper fox had given him such a filling. "Any survivors?"

Keith stirred, not sure where any of his extremities were anymore. "Send help," he whispered, yawning and feeling a spurt of fennec seed against his tongue. "It's... it's a mess down here..."

"Ssshhh," Rennie purred, kissing his fiancee and tasting his own spunk on his lips. "You always wondered why I fell asleep after you finished?"

"I could sleep... forever... it's so warm..."

Rennie hugged what part of Keith he could reach, amazed at just how little space was left in their room. "Sleep as long as you need. I'm not going anywhere." He bucked his hips once and giggled at the ripples that spread out from Keith's hips. "I'm never going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Then shut up and hold me."

"Anytime," he murmured, closing his own eyes and letting the exhaustion wash over him. "Anytime."

. . . . .

"And exactly what were you doing when it crashed?" he asked politely, adjusting the headset and wondering if he should just produce a hardcopy manual for distribution through the Sluggo & Boyce offices. Not that anyone would read it...

"I don't know!" the deep-voiced hoss on the other end of the line protested. "I was trying to batch process a bunch of video clips for mobile size and everything just froze!"

"What software were you using to batch process?"

"FoxFires! That's what you told me to use last time!"

"Right, good, ok. And how many files were you batch processing?"

"Seventeen!"

"Well, it should be able to handle that. How... wait, did you say FoxFires? As in, plural?"

"Yes!"

Rennie took a deep, steadying breath. Don't call him an idiot, don't call him an idiot, don't call him- "Did you have seventeen different instances of FoxFire open? One for each video?"

"Of course!"

Idiot. "Do you know what the word 'batch' means?"

It was another rough Friday at S&B. It sometimes seemed as though the end of the week brought about a sudden lack of common sense, as everyone put in that last burst of energy before the weekend and somehow brains got in the way of that. Leeroy snickered from his side of the office. "F-Day strikes again?"

Rennie talked Gerry through the process of loading seventeen files into ONE instance of FoxFire and then set his intranet portal to Busy. His forehead thumped against the edge of his new desk and he groaned into the folds of his purple hoodie. "I need to call in sick for more Fridays. Apparently I didn't miss ANYTHING on Monday."

"You missed me and Stella walking through the front doors together!"

"Shi was dragging you on a leash."

"THAT COUNTS!"

Pony and fennec shared a laugh, their tails swishing past eachother. "Some week, eh?"

Leeroy glanced down at Rennie's seat and nodded, still blushing slightly. "Yeah, some week. You know, if you wanted a job downstairs, you probably only just had to ask Keith nicely."

"No, I like my job! Well, ok, I guess I kind of hate this part of my job," Rennie admitted, gesturing to where Gerry's avatar was still blinking on his screen. "But I don't want to do that full-time. That's not me."

A reminder alarm started beeping, and the taur perked right up. "But that doesn't mean I can't do it part time! Hold down the fort for me, Leeroy, I'm wanted on set."

"What?! Again? You're going to leave me here alone for the rest of F-Day?"

Gingerly Rennie stood up. His former divan-style chair was less than useless now, but at least now he didn't have to keep putting in request tickets for a more comfortable seat. With his legs fully extended he only had a few inches of space between the linoleum and the undersides of his sac and sheath, but he had to admit it was an exceptionally comfortable way to spend the day. "I think they're just eager to get as many different styles as possible for my portfolio," Rennie smiled, moving carefully towards the door. He hadn't grown since the morning after waking up next to a still-colossal Keith, but the last vestiges of the clinical medication had left him so ponderously hung that he hard a hard time using stairs anymore. "And it's not like I'm doing anything X-rated! These are all clothed photo shoots."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, just... seriously, the next time that Doctor Shootenhauser calls you, mentioned my name, OK?"

"It's Schottenheimer, and... we'll see," Rennie winked. Probably a dozen people at S&B had heard the story of how the taur had achieved his staggering growth, and most of them had wanted in. "They closed down the trial for now, until the effects can be properly studied in laboratory conditions."

"I'll be their lab rat! Pony. Lab pony."

"Just be patient... besides, I'm not sure Stella would like you competing with hir in the size department."

"I dunno... maybe it would drive HIR to get bigger..."

Rennie just shook his head and left his lovelorn and size-obsessed co-worker to daydream by himself. Monday had been a sick day, and Tuesday had been as well after Keith had insisted on testing whether or not Rennie was done growing. When they both finally returned to work on Wednesday, Rennie hadn't even made it to the IT department before being cornered by one of the S&B talent scouts and offered a temporary modelling contract.

The elevator down to the studios was full, and more than one person seemed to be trying to crowd close to the fennec, smiling their widest smiles and asking how his day was going. Everyone sure is eager to be my pal this week, he thought wryly. I'm sure it's just a coincidence...

When he finally trotted into Studio B he was already five minutes late. He expected the shoot producer to snap at him, as so often happened when new talent started acting like prima donnas, but the room was all but empty. A tall mink was slouched over a desk, fiddling with a camera the size of a food processor, and the three different theatrical bedroom sets were all clean and ready for the afternoon's activities.

"Hello?" Rennie called, heading over to the photographer. "Anyone here?"

"Just me," the mink replied, snapping accessories onto the camera like a sniper preparing for war. "Wardrobe will be here in a few minutes."

"Oh," Rennie said, drooping slightly. "I guess that makes sense. I'm used to seeing these places bustling, but I'm just getting some portfolio shots done."

"Wardrobe thought it would be better if it was a closed set. Just you, me and him."

"'Him'?"

"Wardrobe guy."

"Oh. Uhm... where do you want me to start?"

The mink gestured towards the different bedroom sets. "Whichever is good. We got two hours. Just relax."

"Oh. OK."

Rennie settled on the central bedroom, which was a fantasy-tinged number with fake gold and purple satin everywhere, all focused around a gargantuan four-poster bed. This might be a big enough bed for us, he mused, eyeing the high ceilings and distant warehouse walls of the studio. Through the far double doors he could just see a costume trolley wheeling towards them, outfits swaying. I wonder what they're going to have me wearing today?

His eyes widened when he realized who was pushing the wardrobe trolley. "Keith?"

The fox grinned as he drew closer to the brightly-lit bedroom sets, walking sideways in order to push the trolley but not actually knock it over with his sac. "Hey. Check it out... I'm the official new wardrobe intern."

Rennie goggled. "You... but you... I mean... that's AWESOME!" he cried, galumphing towards his husband-to-be and enveloping him in a hug. "I knew you could do it!"

"Eight hours a week to start, and I have to keep up my regular shoot schedule, but yeah, the producers seemed to think maybe I was due for a little bit of consideration." The fox started pulling outfits off of the rack, holding them up to Rennie's collar. "Let's see, what's a good look for you today... you're on the purple set, so we want to set that off with warm summer hues. How do you feel about canary and crimson?"

The taur giggled, stepping back, heavy sheath swaying beneath him. "You don't mind being known as the wardrobe fox who's sleeping with the models?"

"You didn't seem to be known as the IT nerd who was banging the talent," Keith winked. "I just see this as a way for us to work together without us, you know... WORKING together."

"I dunno," Rennie mused. "That bed is pretty big. We MIGHT be able to-"

"No."

"But the ceilings are-"

"No."

"I saw a ten-gallon hose-pack of MacroGlide in the hallway-"

"NO." Keith grinned, thumping Rennie's shoulder. "You and me... that's private. But if you happen to have a portfolio video scheduled for next week with a certain jackalboi, well... that's none of my business."

Rennie gasped. "You can't be serious."

"Never been more serious. I think you'll like working for Sluggo & Boyce. It's a hell of an experience. But just remember, what happens on screen, stays on screen."

Rennie swivelled his butt around, proudly displaying the band of gold around the base of his tail. "Everyone knows I'm yours, love."

Keith giggled and twisted to shon his own rump, a smaller band of gold around his own tail. "And I'm yours. But right now, we need to get you into an eighteenth century viscount's vestments. Strip."

"Yes, sir, sweetie."