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Zataan and Theo's "Bigger is Better" Growth Drive - Round 3
Two goals in as many rounds? Holy cow, you guys, you're unbelievable! Your prize? Have some eye candy with Conner and Renard in singlets! Who knows what hitting another goal will do~
For their second episode, Zataan and Theo remembered that TV shows usually work better with a crowd. Now their strange, cavernous stage was packed with raucous, cheering fans in bleachers. Why were they cheering and who were these two strange, technicolored cats under the spotlight? No idea, but they were having a grand time.
The Cheshire Theo bowed low, his smile sparkling in the light. “Esteemed Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome back to Bigger Is Better. Tonight we have an exhilarating contest, as our two colleagues--”
Zataan shoved his Cheshire co-host out of the spotlight, blowing a kiss to the audience. “--Will be facing down each other at a nail-biting, suspense-filled game of chance and luck! Yes, folks, we hope to shake things up a bit. And we already have, backstage; we stole all our contestants clothes!” Zataan paused for the audience’s laughter. “Let’s see how they’re doing, now that they’ve found out…”
A large screen switched first to Renard. The lolf, after suffering through a sudden amount of weight packed on to his frame, was binging. His dressing room had been packed with all his favorite comfort foods; strawberry ice cream, popcorn, and a small mountain of strawberry-frosted donuts, and the temptation had proven too much for the hybrid, as he had made steady progress into all three piles of food. Polishing off a donut, he was beside himself; his shirt was riding up his burgeoning pot belly, while his pants were actively being pushed down by augmented thighs.
“Where the hell are my spare clothes? They’ve got to fit…” he muttered to himself. “Oh… oh no…” The lolf had moved out of the range of the hidden camera, and when he shuffled back into view, he was clutching a cherry red singlet in one hand as he shovelled a fistful of popcorn into his mouth. “No, no, no. No! Absolutely not, I--” He stopped, staring into the camera. “You cats are sick!” He grabbed the camera, quickly unplugging it.
“Oh, dear,” Theo purred. “It looks like Mr. De Fleureaux has been stress eating… well, let’s see how our other contestant, Mr. Coon, is handling the situation.”
The large screen flickered, and then showed Conner in his break room. The raccoon, probably at the behest of Theo and Jose, had converted his space into a weight room; he was already bursting out of his clothes, his shirt practically painted on as his enlarged chest surged while he raised the barbell over his head. As the weight reached its apex, it finally happened; his shirt tore with a loud rip, giving his pecs some much-needed breathing space.
“Aw…” Conner set the barbell down, looking at his shirt. “Now what am I supposed to wear?” Just like Renard, the raccoon spotted something off screen, and shuffled around before coming back with a royal blue singlet. “What…? How do I… how do I even put this on?”
The screen turned black as the Cheshires clapped. “Well, I think we’re all excited to see our contestants fill out their new uniforms… aren’t we, Mr. C?” Theo bowed his head to Zataan.
“Absolutely, Theo. And, to help us in our next fun-filled activity, we’ve managed to snag a willing volunteer… Ladies and Gentlemen, please put your hands together for Wolfie Randolf!”
The werewolf that stepped out on stage towered over either of the cats. He was a tremendously oversized specimen, with concrete, rippling muscles all across his body, from titanic arms matched with a pair of slab-like pecs jutting out from his torso to legs thick as tree trunks to support his weight. He was covered almost completely in black fur, save for a white patch going from his strong jaw down his thick bullneck. He waved at the audience, his green eyes flashing while he sported a toothy smile.
“Mr. Randolf, are you looking forward to aiding us… expand our contestants horizons?” Theo asked, holding a microphone up to the looming wolf.
He let out a gruff chuckle. “You bet!” he declared, his voice rich and deep even as he spoke out of excitement. “These two need way more meat on their bones, and I’m just the wolf to help get them there!”
“I’m sure we’re all very excited to see that happen, Mr. Randolf… now, shall, we, Mr. C?”
“I think we shall, Mr. T.” Zataan snapped his fingers, and spotlights flashed on center stage. There was a large, round table lined with felt, but it was partitioned off into six sections with checkered red and black borders running along the curves of the table. “Now, Wolfie, here’s where you come in… we can’t have Renard and Conner winning too easily. We’re going to play a little game of poker, but you, my dear sir, are going to be the dealer… do feel free to stack the deck however you please, and, as an added bonus…” Zataan grasped the side of the table and gave it a good shove, making the surface of the table spin around. “We’re going to rely on you to make sure there’s no way of them keeping track of their hands. Think you can handle that?”
Wolfie scratched his chin, frowning. “I’m confused, how are they supposed to get big by playing poker? They are going to get big, right?”
Theo chuckled. “Let us worry about that, Mr. Randolf. Now! On with the show!”
Renard and Conner were just behind a curtain, both of them grimacing and fidgeting in their singlets. They were snug, to say the least, and left little to the imagination. “This is ridiculous. Can you believe they’re doing this to us?” Renard muttered, munching through another donut.
“Well… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you weren’t always eating donuts…?” Conner suggested, earning a sharp look from Renard.
“I am stress eating! I lifted cars just a week ago, I can work this off!” Renard snapped.
“Well, maybe now you can eat a car instead…”
That earned another withering look. “Wait… are you…?” Renard realized he had to look slightly up. Was Conner taller?
The raccoon blinked, rubbing the back of his head. “Am I…?”
Renard shook his head. “Never mind. Look, we need to stay one step ahead of Theo and Zataan. They’re betting on us trying to beat each other at these games--”
“But you won, and you got fat.”
The lolf nodded. “Right. The loser’s the one who puts on muscle. So I need to lose.”
“You? Why? I already got a head start on muscle.” Conner flexed his arm for emphasis. It wasn’t much, but it was more than Renard had.
“I know how to handle muscle, I’ve got experience with it. Besides… aren’t you going to get crap from Winter for being so… not fat?” Renard reasoned.
The raccoon nodded slowly. “Okay… so you throw this round and let me win.”
“It won’t be hard. I’m horrible at cards.”
They didn’t have any more time to strategize, as the curtains were pulled back, revealing the two in their singlets, and showing off an embarrassing amount of enlarged flesh. The audience cheered as they were ushered towards the table, but Renard in particular couldn’t stop fidgeting; he was desperate to try to pull up his singlet to cover more of his body, but his belly was proving too much of an obstacle.
“Well, you’re looking healthy, Renard,” Zataan chortled, slapping the lolf on the back as he led him to his side of the table. “Here… we wouldn’t want you to get hungry.” The Cheshire laid a plate piled with more donuts next to him. “Good luck!”
“If I have to lose weight after this, I’m going to do it by jumping rope with his tail,” Renard grumbled to himself… though the donuts did look good.
“Ready to strut your stuff, as they say, Mr. Coon?” Theo purred, rubbing the raccoon’s shoulder.
“I… guess so?”
“Well, you certainly have reason to… after all, in your particular circle of friends, you’re the strong one now…” Theo gave a lingering look at Renard, who was already eating one of the donuts.
“Alright! Let’s do this!” Wolfie clapped and rubbed his hands together. He was wearing a card dealer’s visor, a vest far too small for his bulging chest, and two armbands stretched to their limit as they wrapped around his swollen biceps, and nothing else. “You two boys ready to punch up to a man’s size?”
“Go I but with the grace of God…” Renard muttered. “Wait.” He took in the huge werewolf, eyes lingering on his muscle. “...Isn’t this,” he used his fingers for air quotes, “‘show’ supposed to be for a big, general audience?”
“Yeah, I think so. Why?”
“You’re not even wearing pants!”
Wolfie smirked, flexing his thighs until they smashed against each other. “Thanks for noticing, Tubbs. I’m not wearing a lot of things, anyways. You’re not wearing pants, either.” He winked. “But, we can talk about that later.” The werewolf produced a deck of cards and shuffled, flicking out six hands. “Pick your poison, guys.”
The two pulled up their hands, and Renard frowned. He didn’t even have the right cards to make a single pair. Canting his head to get Conner’s attention, he made an exaggerated motion of looking disappointed, even eating his donut in a nervous fashion.
Conner blinked and then gasped. “Oh! Right.” He pushed his hand back on to the table. “I, uh, fold.”
“What?”
“Winner, Renard!” Wolfie shouted.
The lolf’s belly surged forward, slowly bubbling like a pot of water coming to a boil. His cheeks bloated up slightly, and he could feel his chunkier thighs pressing closer together. “Oh, come on! Conner!”
The raccoon shrugged. “I’m sorry, man, I don’t know how to play poker!”
Wolfie grabbed the table, and gave it a hard spin, smirking at Renard. “You’ll be as round as this table by the end of this, Big Red.”
When the table came to a stop, Renard was careful in choosing his hand, but luck was not with him. Three rounds, and each time, the lolf had the dubious honor of winning. One time, it didn’t even make sense. Renard only had two pairs, and Conner had three of a kind, but the Cheshires still declared the lolf winner when he laid out his pair of fives and pair of sevens. The reason?
“Five is my favorite number of the day.” Theo shrugged, smiling serenely.
“And seven ate nine!” Zataan added, waggling his eyebrows. “It’s fitting, right Renard?”
The lolf’s eye twitched as he felt that warm, almost too comfortable feeling of more soft, doughy weight being piled on to his frame. His belly was quickly brushing against the table, spilling out of his singlet. His legs rolled off one another, squeezed into the embarrassingly short leggins like sausage casings.
Conner, on the other hand, almost seemed to be enjoying himself. The raccoon’s body now matched, and was quickly surpassing, the well built Cheshires. His arms were roped with heavy muscle, and while he learned to keep a straight face, his meaty pecs bounced like a super ball on a trampoline whenever he got a good hand.
When the commercial break mercifully came, Renard was beside himself. Wolfie was eyeing up the growing raccoon, and snapped the strap of his singlet. “You’re filling out nicely, you know. Ever thought of competing?”
“Competing…?”
“Yeah, bodybuilding. You look like you could do pretty well, ‘coon.” The werewolf winked, bumping his flexed tricep against Conner’s arm.
“Oh, well, you know… it’s just hard work. I get a really great pump in the gym!” Conner grinned.
“Excuse. Me.” Renard prodded Conner in the side with gritted teeth.
“Oh, hey Renard! Heh, congrats on the game so far!” the raccoon grinned. “Hey, check this out, Wolfie showed me this. Maybe if you get back in shape, you can do it too. Have you seen my beachball?”
“Your… what?”
“It’s about… this round…” Conner pulled into a crab pose, flexing his arms until his boulder shoulders and biceps squeezed into his thick chest. “This wide…” He brought up his arms in a double bicep flex, letting them swell as his meaty flanks flared out like wings. “And it went that way!” He brought one arm down, and then hesitated, pulling it back. “Wait-- that way!” He switched arms, pulling off a victory pose and leaving one arm tensed and flexed as he let his tricep stretch and bulge on his out-stretched arm.
Renard pulled on his arm. “Yeah. Great. Can we talk?”
Conner and Renard stepped to the side, and the lolf groaned as he saw he had to look up to look the raccoon in the eye. He had to be a couple inches taller. “You’ve got to be kidding…” he muttered.
“What’s up?”
“Conner. Do you remember what we talked about?” Renard asked.
The raccoon held up his hands in defense. “Well, I’m trying! It’s not my fault you’re better at poker than me!”
Renard slapped his forehead, causing his new double chin and chubby cheeks to wobble. “I’m not! I can barely keep the suits straight, but every time he spins that table, I always get a good hand! Look, you need to let me know if you get a good hand. Just… keep doing that thing with your chest. We’re getting new poker chips after the break, so I’ll bet and put all in. I can’t win with that.”
“Well… maybe I don’t want to get fat.”
Renard stared. “What.”
“You’ve always been the strong guy. Maybe you could let someone else in our circle of friends be the muscle.” Conner flexed his arm for emphasis. “I could get used to it…”
The lolf sighed. “Conner. What about your boyfriend?”
“Well, I’ll still be big!”
Renard gave Conner a long look.
The raccoon sighed, dropping his wide shoulders. “Oh, fine.”
There was a sharp ring, calling everyone back to the set. Renard tugged on Conner’s arm. “Promise?”
“Yeah, I promise, I’ll let you lose.”
The two took up their places, and both noticed Wolfie was enjoying the view from both ends. “Alright, we’ve had a productive game so far, but we’re raising the stakes.” He placed two piles of poker chips on the table, spinning them out for Renard and Conner. “You have the potential to make two hundred pounds, so pick your cards right!”
Renard took a deep breath and picked up a deck as the table spun. He took a deep sigh of relief. He didn’t even have a pair. “Oh, thank God,” he murmured as he grabbed another donut.
Conner picked up his hand, and saw he had a straight flush. Saying a silent goodbye to his toned body, he looked up at Renard and bounced his pecs.
“All in!” Renard declared with his mouth full, spewing out crumbs as he shoved out all his chips faster than he could swallow part of his donut.
The two showed their cards, and Renard held back a smile as he saw Conner’s straight flush. He held his breath, anticipating the growth… and immediately exhaled, his belly pressing up against the table even more. He craned his neck; he had a third chin. “...What?”
He looked up at Conner, and his jaw dropped. The raccoon exploded with growth, every part of his body surging forward with rock hard, sinewy muscle. His chest expanded by leaps and bounds, threatening to snap the straps of his singlet. His arms and legs doubled in size, and his neck was all but swallowed by his Appalachian shoulders. He leaned in on the table, letting his monumental arm rest and threaten the structural integrity of the table. “So, uh, guess I won then, right Renard?”
“You have indeed, Mr. Coon!” Theo hoisted up the raccoon’s free arm. “Our contestants are tied for now everyone, so tune in next time--”
Zataan ran at a sprint, bumping Theo behind Conner’s sprawling back to get him out of the shot. “--for Bigger is Better!”
A- A brain-bending Quiz Show
B- A challenging Obstacle Course
C- An extremely innocent and totally not suspicious Board Game
GROWTH DRIVE RULES
-Two characters will be growing for the drive. CONNER the raccoon will gain ONLY MUSCLE, while RENARD the lolf will gain ONLY FAT.
- As with most Growth Drives, things started out slow, but are ramping up as time goes on and donations increase! For the third round, $1 = 5 lbs!
- To donate, follow this link to the Google Docs Form: http://goo.gl/forms/C0dRnPPujt
Your donation can go to one character or the other, or be split between the two however you like.
- Once you fill out the form, you will be directed to a Paypal link where you can then finalize your donation. Be sure you submit the donation in USD WHOLE DOLLAR AMOUNTS ONLY, please.
- The top donor for every round will be contacted the next day and be offered a FREE CAMEO in the following round's picture and story. If you are contacted, please respond with the needed references or descriptions of your character within 36 hours or your cameo will have to be forfeit.
- The top donor for the entire Growth Drive will also be contacted at its conclusion, and be offered a FREE PICTURE AND STORY COMMISSION COMBO of their character with either Renard and Conner, or Theo and Zataan at whatever size/shape they prefer!
- Don't have the funds to donate? No worries! As with prior Growth Drives, you can still FREE-VOTE IN THE COMMENTS SECTION on how the story goes by choosing Conner and Renard's next challenge. The choice with the most votes wins, of course.
- There are also DONATION GOALPOSTS that, if met, will unlock fun extras for the Growth Drive, such as cameos, side-story interviews, and even new outfits! The next donation goal is $450.
- Donations and voting for Round One end Sunday, April 17th, 11:59 PM CST. Donations sent after this time will be submitted for the following round.
- As always, thanks for your support!
Art and Conner by Yours Truly
Story and Renard provided by 
Renard_DeFleureax
Wolfie Randolf belongs to 
Inmate001
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Renard_DeFleureax
Inmate001For their second episode, Zataan and Theo remembered that TV shows usually work better with a crowd. Now their strange, cavernous stage was packed with raucous, cheering fans in bleachers. Why were they cheering and who were these two strange, technicolored cats under the spotlight? No idea, but they were having a grand time.
The Cheshire Theo bowed low, his smile sparkling in the light. “Esteemed Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome back to Bigger Is Better. Tonight we have an exhilarating contest, as our two colleagues--”
Zataan shoved his Cheshire co-host out of the spotlight, blowing a kiss to the audience. “--Will be facing down each other at a nail-biting, suspense-filled game of chance and luck! Yes, folks, we hope to shake things up a bit. And we already have, backstage; we stole all our contestants clothes!” Zataan paused for the audience’s laughter. “Let’s see how they’re doing, now that they’ve found out…”
A large screen switched first to Renard. The lolf, after suffering through a sudden amount of weight packed on to his frame, was binging. His dressing room had been packed with all his favorite comfort foods; strawberry ice cream, popcorn, and a small mountain of strawberry-frosted donuts, and the temptation had proven too much for the hybrid, as he had made steady progress into all three piles of food. Polishing off a donut, he was beside himself; his shirt was riding up his burgeoning pot belly, while his pants were actively being pushed down by augmented thighs.
“Where the hell are my spare clothes? They’ve got to fit…” he muttered to himself. “Oh… oh no…” The lolf had moved out of the range of the hidden camera, and when he shuffled back into view, he was clutching a cherry red singlet in one hand as he shovelled a fistful of popcorn into his mouth. “No, no, no. No! Absolutely not, I--” He stopped, staring into the camera. “You cats are sick!” He grabbed the camera, quickly unplugging it.
“Oh, dear,” Theo purred. “It looks like Mr. De Fleureaux has been stress eating… well, let’s see how our other contestant, Mr. Coon, is handling the situation.”
The large screen flickered, and then showed Conner in his break room. The raccoon, probably at the behest of Theo and Jose, had converted his space into a weight room; he was already bursting out of his clothes, his shirt practically painted on as his enlarged chest surged while he raised the barbell over his head. As the weight reached its apex, it finally happened; his shirt tore with a loud rip, giving his pecs some much-needed breathing space.
“Aw…” Conner set the barbell down, looking at his shirt. “Now what am I supposed to wear?” Just like Renard, the raccoon spotted something off screen, and shuffled around before coming back with a royal blue singlet. “What…? How do I… how do I even put this on?”
The screen turned black as the Cheshires clapped. “Well, I think we’re all excited to see our contestants fill out their new uniforms… aren’t we, Mr. C?” Theo bowed his head to Zataan.
“Absolutely, Theo. And, to help us in our next fun-filled activity, we’ve managed to snag a willing volunteer… Ladies and Gentlemen, please put your hands together for Wolfie Randolf!”
The werewolf that stepped out on stage towered over either of the cats. He was a tremendously oversized specimen, with concrete, rippling muscles all across his body, from titanic arms matched with a pair of slab-like pecs jutting out from his torso to legs thick as tree trunks to support his weight. He was covered almost completely in black fur, save for a white patch going from his strong jaw down his thick bullneck. He waved at the audience, his green eyes flashing while he sported a toothy smile.
“Mr. Randolf, are you looking forward to aiding us… expand our contestants horizons?” Theo asked, holding a microphone up to the looming wolf.
He let out a gruff chuckle. “You bet!” he declared, his voice rich and deep even as he spoke out of excitement. “These two need way more meat on their bones, and I’m just the wolf to help get them there!”
“I’m sure we’re all very excited to see that happen, Mr. Randolf… now, shall, we, Mr. C?”
“I think we shall, Mr. T.” Zataan snapped his fingers, and spotlights flashed on center stage. There was a large, round table lined with felt, but it was partitioned off into six sections with checkered red and black borders running along the curves of the table. “Now, Wolfie, here’s where you come in… we can’t have Renard and Conner winning too easily. We’re going to play a little game of poker, but you, my dear sir, are going to be the dealer… do feel free to stack the deck however you please, and, as an added bonus…” Zataan grasped the side of the table and gave it a good shove, making the surface of the table spin around. “We’re going to rely on you to make sure there’s no way of them keeping track of their hands. Think you can handle that?”
Wolfie scratched his chin, frowning. “I’m confused, how are they supposed to get big by playing poker? They are going to get big, right?”
Theo chuckled. “Let us worry about that, Mr. Randolf. Now! On with the show!”
Renard and Conner were just behind a curtain, both of them grimacing and fidgeting in their singlets. They were snug, to say the least, and left little to the imagination. “This is ridiculous. Can you believe they’re doing this to us?” Renard muttered, munching through another donut.
“Well… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you weren’t always eating donuts…?” Conner suggested, earning a sharp look from Renard.
“I am stress eating! I lifted cars just a week ago, I can work this off!” Renard snapped.
“Well, maybe now you can eat a car instead…”
That earned another withering look. “Wait… are you…?” Renard realized he had to look slightly up. Was Conner taller?
The raccoon blinked, rubbing the back of his head. “Am I…?”
Renard shook his head. “Never mind. Look, we need to stay one step ahead of Theo and Zataan. They’re betting on us trying to beat each other at these games--”
“But you won, and you got fat.”
The lolf nodded. “Right. The loser’s the one who puts on muscle. So I need to lose.”
“You? Why? I already got a head start on muscle.” Conner flexed his arm for emphasis. It wasn’t much, but it was more than Renard had.
“I know how to handle muscle, I’ve got experience with it. Besides… aren’t you going to get crap from Winter for being so… not fat?” Renard reasoned.
The raccoon nodded slowly. “Okay… so you throw this round and let me win.”
“It won’t be hard. I’m horrible at cards.”
They didn’t have any more time to strategize, as the curtains were pulled back, revealing the two in their singlets, and showing off an embarrassing amount of enlarged flesh. The audience cheered as they were ushered towards the table, but Renard in particular couldn’t stop fidgeting; he was desperate to try to pull up his singlet to cover more of his body, but his belly was proving too much of an obstacle.
“Well, you’re looking healthy, Renard,” Zataan chortled, slapping the lolf on the back as he led him to his side of the table. “Here… we wouldn’t want you to get hungry.” The Cheshire laid a plate piled with more donuts next to him. “Good luck!”
“If I have to lose weight after this, I’m going to do it by jumping rope with his tail,” Renard grumbled to himself… though the donuts did look good.
“Ready to strut your stuff, as they say, Mr. Coon?” Theo purred, rubbing the raccoon’s shoulder.
“I… guess so?”
“Well, you certainly have reason to… after all, in your particular circle of friends, you’re the strong one now…” Theo gave a lingering look at Renard, who was already eating one of the donuts.
“Alright! Let’s do this!” Wolfie clapped and rubbed his hands together. He was wearing a card dealer’s visor, a vest far too small for his bulging chest, and two armbands stretched to their limit as they wrapped around his swollen biceps, and nothing else. “You two boys ready to punch up to a man’s size?”
“Go I but with the grace of God…” Renard muttered. “Wait.” He took in the huge werewolf, eyes lingering on his muscle. “...Isn’t this,” he used his fingers for air quotes, “‘show’ supposed to be for a big, general audience?”
“Yeah, I think so. Why?”
“You’re not even wearing pants!”
Wolfie smirked, flexing his thighs until they smashed against each other. “Thanks for noticing, Tubbs. I’m not wearing a lot of things, anyways. You’re not wearing pants, either.” He winked. “But, we can talk about that later.” The werewolf produced a deck of cards and shuffled, flicking out six hands. “Pick your poison, guys.”
The two pulled up their hands, and Renard frowned. He didn’t even have the right cards to make a single pair. Canting his head to get Conner’s attention, he made an exaggerated motion of looking disappointed, even eating his donut in a nervous fashion.
Conner blinked and then gasped. “Oh! Right.” He pushed his hand back on to the table. “I, uh, fold.”
“What?”
“Winner, Renard!” Wolfie shouted.
The lolf’s belly surged forward, slowly bubbling like a pot of water coming to a boil. His cheeks bloated up slightly, and he could feel his chunkier thighs pressing closer together. “Oh, come on! Conner!”
The raccoon shrugged. “I’m sorry, man, I don’t know how to play poker!”
Wolfie grabbed the table, and gave it a hard spin, smirking at Renard. “You’ll be as round as this table by the end of this, Big Red.”
When the table came to a stop, Renard was careful in choosing his hand, but luck was not with him. Three rounds, and each time, the lolf had the dubious honor of winning. One time, it didn’t even make sense. Renard only had two pairs, and Conner had three of a kind, but the Cheshires still declared the lolf winner when he laid out his pair of fives and pair of sevens. The reason?
“Five is my favorite number of the day.” Theo shrugged, smiling serenely.
“And seven ate nine!” Zataan added, waggling his eyebrows. “It’s fitting, right Renard?”
The lolf’s eye twitched as he felt that warm, almost too comfortable feeling of more soft, doughy weight being piled on to his frame. His belly was quickly brushing against the table, spilling out of his singlet. His legs rolled off one another, squeezed into the embarrassingly short leggins like sausage casings.
Conner, on the other hand, almost seemed to be enjoying himself. The raccoon’s body now matched, and was quickly surpassing, the well built Cheshires. His arms were roped with heavy muscle, and while he learned to keep a straight face, his meaty pecs bounced like a super ball on a trampoline whenever he got a good hand.
When the commercial break mercifully came, Renard was beside himself. Wolfie was eyeing up the growing raccoon, and snapped the strap of his singlet. “You’re filling out nicely, you know. Ever thought of competing?”
“Competing…?”
“Yeah, bodybuilding. You look like you could do pretty well, ‘coon.” The werewolf winked, bumping his flexed tricep against Conner’s arm.
“Oh, well, you know… it’s just hard work. I get a really great pump in the gym!” Conner grinned.
“Excuse. Me.” Renard prodded Conner in the side with gritted teeth.
“Oh, hey Renard! Heh, congrats on the game so far!” the raccoon grinned. “Hey, check this out, Wolfie showed me this. Maybe if you get back in shape, you can do it too. Have you seen my beachball?”
“Your… what?”
“It’s about… this round…” Conner pulled into a crab pose, flexing his arms until his boulder shoulders and biceps squeezed into his thick chest. “This wide…” He brought up his arms in a double bicep flex, letting them swell as his meaty flanks flared out like wings. “And it went that way!” He brought one arm down, and then hesitated, pulling it back. “Wait-- that way!” He switched arms, pulling off a victory pose and leaving one arm tensed and flexed as he let his tricep stretch and bulge on his out-stretched arm.
Renard pulled on his arm. “Yeah. Great. Can we talk?”
Conner and Renard stepped to the side, and the lolf groaned as he saw he had to look up to look the raccoon in the eye. He had to be a couple inches taller. “You’ve got to be kidding…” he muttered.
“What’s up?”
“Conner. Do you remember what we talked about?” Renard asked.
The raccoon held up his hands in defense. “Well, I’m trying! It’s not my fault you’re better at poker than me!”
Renard slapped his forehead, causing his new double chin and chubby cheeks to wobble. “I’m not! I can barely keep the suits straight, but every time he spins that table, I always get a good hand! Look, you need to let me know if you get a good hand. Just… keep doing that thing with your chest. We’re getting new poker chips after the break, so I’ll bet and put all in. I can’t win with that.”
“Well… maybe I don’t want to get fat.”
Renard stared. “What.”
“You’ve always been the strong guy. Maybe you could let someone else in our circle of friends be the muscle.” Conner flexed his arm for emphasis. “I could get used to it…”
The lolf sighed. “Conner. What about your boyfriend?”
“Well, I’ll still be big!”
Renard gave Conner a long look.
The raccoon sighed, dropping his wide shoulders. “Oh, fine.”
There was a sharp ring, calling everyone back to the set. Renard tugged on Conner’s arm. “Promise?”
“Yeah, I promise, I’ll let you lose.”
The two took up their places, and both noticed Wolfie was enjoying the view from both ends. “Alright, we’ve had a productive game so far, but we’re raising the stakes.” He placed two piles of poker chips on the table, spinning them out for Renard and Conner. “You have the potential to make two hundred pounds, so pick your cards right!”
Renard took a deep breath and picked up a deck as the table spun. He took a deep sigh of relief. He didn’t even have a pair. “Oh, thank God,” he murmured as he grabbed another donut.
Conner picked up his hand, and saw he had a straight flush. Saying a silent goodbye to his toned body, he looked up at Renard and bounced his pecs.
“All in!” Renard declared with his mouth full, spewing out crumbs as he shoved out all his chips faster than he could swallow part of his donut.
The two showed their cards, and Renard held back a smile as he saw Conner’s straight flush. He held his breath, anticipating the growth… and immediately exhaled, his belly pressing up against the table even more. He craned his neck; he had a third chin. “...What?”
He looked up at Conner, and his jaw dropped. The raccoon exploded with growth, every part of his body surging forward with rock hard, sinewy muscle. His chest expanded by leaps and bounds, threatening to snap the straps of his singlet. His arms and legs doubled in size, and his neck was all but swallowed by his Appalachian shoulders. He leaned in on the table, letting his monumental arm rest and threaten the structural integrity of the table. “So, uh, guess I won then, right Renard?”
“You have indeed, Mr. Coon!” Theo hoisted up the raccoon’s free arm. “Our contestants are tied for now everyone, so tune in next time--”
Zataan ran at a sprint, bumping Theo behind Conner’s sprawling back to get him out of the shot. “--for Bigger is Better!”
What mad challenge will our growing contestants face next time?A- A brain-bending Quiz Show
B- A challenging Obstacle Course
C- An extremely innocent and totally not suspicious Board Game
Category All / Fat Furs
Species Mammal (Other)
Size 980 x 700px
File Size 683.1 kB
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