A new series of adventures involving the Dragon’s Horde club, as anthro folks of all sorts and situations—judges, cops, mechanics, and more—find their way to the club and its transforming drinks.
Sun shined brightly on the eyes of Red, as he groggily stirred into consciousness. He yawned; not once, not twice, but three times at the same time.
The trip to a new bar yesterday and the day before left him changed. Instead of laying straight out, he found it more comfortable to curl around the top of the bed, filling it out with his stretched torso. But that wasn’t the end of it.
He rubbed his eyes, all six of them with six hands. It took a try to reach them all at once, but he felt around with the eight fingers on each hand and found an arrangement. That visit on Friday gave him that. The follow visit made him three headed.
Slowly he shifted, planting his big paws on the queen sized bed around his massive sets of equipment, before slowly stretching the kinks out along his elongated spine. Some more shifting and curling… and Red decided to stay this long this Sunday. Something appealed to him, and he found himself stretching his necks, doubling, tripling… out to reach past his triple-stacked chest as he stood up… and snaked his body back down, reaching his hands onto the ground and keeping his necks up.
This feels good, he thought as he moved on all eights into the bathroom, once again availing himself of the toilet, but coiling around and planting his lower hands on the sink counter to look at himself as well. The upstairs bathroom was smaller than the downstairs, and the bathtub replaced with a walk-in shower, but it still was physically smaller.
There, he looked at the changes: one stretched out decently muscled three-headed cougar, sporting six equally muscled arms, each pair connected to a pair of pectorals, all three stacked on top of each other, yet with a set of leg-thick cocks laying on top six beach ball-sized testicles in one scrotum. He finished relieving himself… and ached for some release.
Downstairs, he said to himself. The bathroom downstairs was just refinished, the drop ceiling redone into full plastic, the tub extended, and supplies redistributed in various cabinets over and next to the toilet. It was perfect for letting go, and so he snaked his way down to it.
Once there he planted his butt on the toilet seat, and noticed his tail was longer than he remembered. Then he remembered the interface his friend Sam told him about. In the corner of his vision he found the interface, and he grinned. The dragon bartender, Dan, slipped him a few drinks when he wasn’t looking. No wonders why he was longer… and his tail tip twitched as he purred.
Situated across the tub, he snaked his upper body around to his members, and started to stroke through his sheathes, exciting them and getting the blood going. Six hands and pent-up demand made light work of this, as his three foot shafts started to stiffen and grow. Within minutes, they doubled in length, their slick forms starting to ooze pre all into the bath tub.
Yes, Red thought, cleanup will be simple, and he continued to rub and massage the last foot and a half of growth out, his shafts thickening just a bit as they reached the other side of the tub.
More massaging later, the cougar growled in triplicate as he orgasmed harder than he ever had. A leakage of pre turned into a river of cum, spewing out of all three pipes in thick streams of sticky white goo. He clenched his jaws as his testicles pushed out more and more.
Ten minutes felt like an eternity, but it was the best Red ever had. He panted heavily as his members relaxed and deflated, the bathtub nearly overflowing with cum. He took five to recover, before standing up again, curling around his stretched torso and necks so that he could start diluting the slowly draining seed.
Red sighed, and slowly readjusted himself. His shafts hanging back over his ball sac, he shrank his torso down to only expose a 18-pack of abdominals. He adjusted his tail and necks longer… and then thought better, stretching his necks down for a paws-eye view, looping behind himself. Man, I got a good sized butt, he thought, and look at the view between my legs. Lets get some brunch done. I gotta call my bud Alex, see if he still has that Thor dildo for sale.
With a nice view of himself, he proceeded upstairs to finish out the rest of his day.
A workweek had passed since four lives were changed by the Dragon’s Horde Club.
Sam, a plumber and HVAC tech by trade, got a bit more business. His mephit body stretched out along his spine, he was able to sit down while getting under kitchens and reach places others would have trouble with. It gained him some word of mouth advertising among the older and odder places he worked.
Joe too got more business. A carpenter and handyman of a hound, he was able to get a housing inspector license at the insistence of one of his clients. He too was stretched out and in many cases saved his clients money by locating problems in odd, previously inaccessible places.
Those paled in comparison to Red, who found himself with extras that caused an upheaval. The computer programmer had returned to work, only to find a VPN token and a demand to work at home. He took it, and finished up projects so fast he had time to expand upon a new paying hobby, designing and selling clothes for the over-endowed. It was a second income he didn’t mind at all, given he himself was hauling heavy from his crotch now.
It also could hold muster back at the bar. Terry was fired from his chef position at a restaurant, but found work at the Dragon’s Horde. He impressed the owner, Cyren, so much that Terry was twice besides himself when he was hired as the new chef.
All of these where the product of the club’s mixmaster, Dan, a dragon with a knack of creating magical drinks… and he was experimenting.
Red walked up to the new bar his friends had introduced him to the week before. It was turning out to be a regular dive for him, and the parking wasn’t horrendous. “The Dragon’s Horde,” he noticed over the doors of the bar, in in-laid gold leaf, followed by “Pub and Club” under in silver.
He hadn’t noticed it before. But then, he didn’t have three heads before last week. Now, the stretched out cerberus cougar noticed not only the sign, the age-old architecture of the building, and that both Sam and Joe were coming up, side by side and intertwined.
“Hey Red!” Joe, the stretched hound called. He and Sam, a stretched skunk, caught up to Red. “What’s shaking?”
“Nothing much,” Red replied with a head. “Actually got a reprieve from the work environment due to my junk.” With one of his six hands, he patted his oversized equipment: Three leg-thick cocks that stretched to his paws, laying on six beach ball sized testicles, contained in a pair of custom-made shorts. “They handed me a VPN token and told me to stay home. I then got work done, and you know how idle hands are…”
“And you got six of ‘em.” Sam added. “So whatcha going to do?”
Red hands over two cards, one for Sam and Joe each. “Clothing for us and anyone else. I got the material and skills, I might as well. I already got a few clients that I’ve delivered on, and they’ve been very happy.”
“You made the pants yourself?” Joe asked.
“Everything.” Red replied as a head looked over in the distance. “I’m going to hit a fabric store later on so I can round out my wardrobe.”
As three other furs came up, Red said, “Oh hey! I invited a few others over. Real transformation hounds.” He waved to a red wolf, a femme vixen, and a rather oddly equipped snow leopard.
“Hey Red!” the wolf said, hugging the stretched multi-cougar. “Man you’ve changed! You weren’t kidding.”
“Hey Alex.” Red said. “Got into the latex, I see.”
“It’s shiny!” Alex added. “So I’m neck-down coated. Oh, let me introduce you. Alex, this lovely coated vixen is Vicki, and the coated herm snow leopard is Kathy.”
“Hello there.” Vicki purred.
“Why hello!” Kathy added. “You’re looking cute, Red.”
“Why thank you!” Red’s middle head said.
“Hmmm… makes me wonder…” Alex added.
“Maybe later, Alex,” Red’s right head purred. His left head resumed with “Everyone, this is Sam, the stretched skunk, and his stretched hound partner Joe.”
“Is it that obvious?” Joe asked… before Sam kissed him. He had gotten intertwined again, a position they found rather appealing when going out and about together.
Red multi-purred “Quite. I called ‘ya about this place, the Dragon’s Horde, because this is how we got this way. You should try the drinks.”
Alex, Vicki, and Kathy all perked up. “Oh really! Is the drinks?”
Sam broke the kiss and nuzzled Joe’s muzzle, saying “We had the Draconic Ferrinters.”
Red added with a head “Regular Ferrinter, three Mirrose, and two Hydrabus chasers one day. A depth-charged Cerya, and I think the bartender slipped in a Draconic Ferrinter in another depth-charged beer.”
“Whoa,” Alex woofed, “you really went all the way.”
“True, true, but then I’m also doing some work for them.”
“You heard from Terry?”
“He works here now… and is quite besides himself.”
“IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE!” a dragon called out from the door. “Come on in! We’re opening up.”
Red howled “Terry! Hey!” in surround sound.
“Terry?” Alex said, as the group started towards the door.
“Yeah,” Red replied. “Terry landed the job of head chefs. Impressed the owner, Cyren, so much that he was transformed into three identical dragons.”
“Oh, hey Alex,” Terry said. “I owe you money. Come on in. I’ll cover your tab if you want, and I’ll write you a check.”
“Errr…” Alex hesitated.
“He’s paid me back already.” Joe said as the intertwined pair duck through the doors. Sam added “Same here. Terry’s checks clear.”
“This is that lounge lizard were talking about, right?” Alex said. Red nodded all three heads as they crossed into the bar area.
“Hey hey!” a dragon with a mane called out. “Look at what the cats drug back. How ‘ya doing, Red?”
“Hey Dan.” Red said, smacking three hands against the dragon’s own three. “You gained a pair, I see.”
“Yeah, Terry’s cooking makes me busier than ever, so Cyren got me the extra pair. I also got temporary versions of the drinks that last 24 hours now.”
“Like we’re going to need ‘em now.” Joe commented as everyone started sitting at the bar.
“Oh, I think I got something for all to try. But first…”
Terry went behind the counter, with all the other Terries joining him from a stock room and the kitchen. “Hey Dan, whatever the crew here have, put it on my tab?”
“What ta…” Dan started before a triplicated look convinced him otherwise. “OOooooohhh, another one?”
Terry all nodded while Kathy snuggled up to Red, who nuzzled with his right head.
“Well then,” Dan grinned, “Who do we have here?”
Red’s middle head spoke up, purring “Well, given how we’ve been changed for the better, I thought I’d ring up Alex here.” He patted the red wolf.
“Oh! Yes!” Alex said. “Me and Vikki are a bit of transformation hounds, and Kathy wants to try it out.”
“Kathy’s taken a shining to you, Red.” Vikki said.
“That she has,” Red’s left head purred. “But then the lovebirds over there…”
“I saw.” Dan said. “Hey Joe! Sam! How would you two like to be even closer?”
“Closer?” Sam asked. “How?”
Dan presented them with two shots of liquor. “This is my Conjuka shot. Take it with our Double Bock, and for 24 hours you’re be sharing a body. You have to drink it together, but you’re already got that part pat.”
“Shall we?” Joe asked. “It’s only 24 hours, and we’re getting good with walking side by side.”
“Oh yes.” Sam giggled, and Dan poured two Double Bocks as well.
“So if I wanted to be permanently rubberized?” Vicki asked.
“You sure you want to try a Shiny Squeaker?” Dan said. “No going back, and there’s no 24 hour version of it.”
“Makes things exciting, doesn’t it?” Alex responded. “Up to you.”
“Yes, I’ll have…” Vicki said before a mug is mixed and poured. She looked at it wondering why it was more than the shots.
Dan said, “You have to drink it down in one go, no spilling.”
Vicki grinned, and downed the concoction without breathing. She put it down and purred “Tastes a bit like rubber…”
“Yeah, it’s fast acting. It’ll spread for a while, so sit back and enjoy.” The dragon turned to Alex and said, “How about you?”
“Maybe a Mirrose,” Alex said, “but do you have something for just extra limbs in general? I mean… maybe something spider like?” The red wolf looked at the slowly transforming rubbervixen, and grinned.
“OOOoooh! Kitty wants a DriderNone! And maybe some extra arms to boot?”
“A Drider? With another pair? Sure!”
Dan nodded and started mixing while Red purred “Going all in with the kink site, eh?”
“I’m actually making a living doing the site and hosting as well.” Alex said. “Gives me more time to play with the mate here.”
“Wish we could do the same.” Joe added. He and Sam had taken the drink… and the resulting dual-headed skunk-hound mix sporting four arms, three legs, and thankfully some modesty. “Although I think we’d have to get some clothing from you, Red.”
“I’m squeaky!” a shinier Vikki chirped as Dan finished with a much larger mug with a good head on it.
“Same deal?” Dan said as Red nodded and handed over a biz card to the conjoined furs.
“All in one shot. You need more for more changes.”
Red’s middle head asked “So how many drinks did I have last Friday, after the shots?”
“The four of you that day emptied a full keg.” Dan said. “Although… how long is your tail?”
“Quite, but you know… how about some splitting up? Would there be a Sune of Kit?”
“If I can steal that name from ‘ya. How many?”
“Eight shots. Call it the Nine of Katta.”
“Easy enough. And you my dear?”
Kathy looked to Alex, even though shi was still snuggled up to Red. Alex looked as he finished his drink… and nodded. “Go ahead hon, ask. It’s… hehe… tingly.”
Red’s right head purred “Wondering about something?”
Kathy mewed “Can I have three breasts? Three big breasts?”
Dan hmmmsss… “I think I have something… but how big?”
Kathy looked at Alex again, this time Red noticing. Red asked “Are you slaved to Alex?” Kathy nodded.
All of Red’s heads turned to Alex, who was growing out arms and legs while his tail was inflating. Alex was just enjoying it until Red all yeowled “ALEX!”
“WHA?!?” Alex jolted back to his senses.
“How much for Kathy?”
“I…” Alex looked around… and noticed Kathy looking at him like shi was asking for permission. “…owwww, I haven’t been paying attention to her at all since she agreed… But since she’s been very obedient… you can have her IF you get into latex.”
“And thus I take hir off your hands.” Red murrred. “Besides… I’d like to fill my hands with hir, and I can use the practice making latex clothing.” He fuzzled Kathy’s head with a few hands. “Your choice, hon.”
Kathy purred. “How about lap filling? Enough that I can still get a shirt on? I can fill the rest up with below.”
Red nuzzled each ear of Kathy, and purrred “More?” into them.
Kathy murrrped quizzingly, “Uh… three heads and nine tails like Red here?”
Dan chuckled, and purred. “Oh that makes things too easy. Terry, can you…”
“On it,” Terry all said as one of his bodies headed back to the kitchen, the other to the storeroom, and the third ducked down to check supplies. Meanwhile, Dan mixed up another mug for Red, and a big mug for Kathy.
“Hey Dan,” Sam piped up, “While you’re at it, a round of beer for all.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Dan said, finishing up the drinks for Red and Kathy as Alex’s arms finished up and his legs started lengthening and reconfiguring. Vicki just squeaked in delight.
Three rounds in, Dan got everyone’s attention.
“Okay, folks.” Dan started. “By now you’ve gotten all your magical elixirs’ full potency applied. The follow-up drinks helped fuel them. But time for the rest of the spiel.
“Joe, Sam… you’re conjoined like that until about 3pm tomorrow, then you’ll slowly split back into the intertwined bodies. Just let it happen, else it’ll be painful.
“Vicki, you’re now living rubber latex. You’ll still need to eat but you don’t need to breathe as long as you’re not fully encased. And don’t worry about the bathroom anymore… or procreating. But then, given you and Alex… that’s not a bad thing. Oh, and you’ll very flexible as well.
“Alex! You’re looking like a proper rubber driderwolf. You can still procreate, but they’ll spawn regular wolves. Your changes don’t hit the DNA level. You’ll also be able to spin latex given a heavy addition of veggies to your diet, which given how big you are won’t be much of an issue.
“Kathy, you are lookin’ marvelous. The perfect fit for Red. And don’t worry about work or anything, it’s all changed in advance. Everyone knows you’re this huge and numerous, but…”
Kathy murmured, “Yeah, abusive work place. Heavy on the religious bent, but it pays the bills…”
Red landed the case of business cards on the bar as he purred “Hon, quit your job and move in with me. I got plenty of room and given how popular this place is going to get with Alex…”
“It would be a change of pace,” Kathy purred back. “Sure! But the contract I’m under…”
Dan handed a different card over. “Here’s the card of our lawyer. Just say I sent you.”
Red looked at the card with a head as Kathy took it. “I know him. He’s a client of the company my primary job is with. He’s very good. We’ll call him up tomorrow if you’d wish.”
“That’ll be nice,” Kathy purred. “Maybe we can get to know each other better…”
And they chatted through the night.
The next week, the crew came back up to the Dragon’s Horde. Red brought Kathy, both decked in tight, tight latex and both wearing collars on all six heads. Sam and Joe were still intertwined. Alex scurried, leading a leashed-and-bound Vicki in a hobble-style gown.
But they also brought friends. Alex was a member of a Transformation club, and with his and Vicki’s changes was able to fund an outing. That outing was going to have many people have a life-changing event (or three).
Not only did Kathy quit hir job and join Red, shi sued for the toxic environment. The lawyer, a dragon by the name of SmaugLiftr, found the company riddled with issues, and offered to drop any fees due to Kathy. But that didn’t make hir happy; instead, it was Red.
The Dragon’s Horde added a vital set of items to its namesake: regulars.
A judge flopped down in his easy chair at home, lamenting the case he was presented. The arguments dense with thick legal maneuvering, involving a discriminatory firing with religious undertones. It could give any judge twice the headache as any dispute on the books combined.
And so, on a Friday, the judge recessed and tried to cut through the paperwork and case law in his chambers. It became late at night when a friendly janitor came in and checked on him. Most of the restaurants and fast food places were closing up, but the janitor, an East-Asian dragon, suggested calling ahead to the Dragon’s Horde.
The coyote judge took the janitor’s suggestion. He called down for a pair of steaks, medium rare, and a growler of their best brew—whatever would fit best. The waitress who answered threw in a few sauces for free, and told him it would be ready by the time he got there.
Thus, the coyote, in his easy chair, watching reruns of the 11 o’clock news, opened the container and dived in. Two steaks, which he smothered in A1 and wolfed down, were pronounced good, washed down with their IPA which had a shot of what they called a Cyera, an Octopod, and a Mirrose.
The growler drained, the judge settled back into his easy chair, and quickly dozed off.
The next morning, he awoke to the TV blaring “educational” kids shows. He yawned in stereo and grabbed the remote, turning it off in one smooth motion. Planting his hands on the chair, he stood up and headed to the bathroom.
There he started really waking up. He remembers having to haul out his now two cocks, each as thick as a soda can and stretching down his legs to his knees, and to wait for them to fully drain. He sets both up… and notices he’s gained another two pairs of hands, matching his existing pair. Hmmm, he says as checks each hand out, giving his cocks the time needed, wondering what else was changed.
He looks with a head at a mirror on the bathtub, stowing his cocks as he turns to face his reflection. There he strips down to his underwear, black boxer briefs that were tailored to be more like biker pants. Two heads, with a neck each, going down to a slightly-wider chest sporting three pectoral muscles and a similar 12-pack with a middle column of muscle. Two tails swished behind a looker of a doubled-up coyote…
…who decided to get a shower before breakfast.
The judge wrapped a towel around his waist as he strode out of the bathroom. He snatched up a tablet computer with the case documents and proceedings transcripts on it, and headed into the kitchen to make breakfast. He grabbed some eggs, bacon, sausage, and scrapple from the refrigerator as the tablet stirred to life.
“I got to get a better tablet,” he said with his right head while another concentrated on the food cooking. With his middle right hand holding the tablet and the upper right tapping, the rest dedicated to cooking, he reviewed the case one last time… when something struck him as odd.
The case was an equal opportunity employment complaint, essentially a female who was being mistreated. She claimed that she was basically forced out, with vastly unequal pay. She strangely retained one of the best lawyers, a dragon with a winning streak and aggressive negotiation style… who found a pattern of abuse. But that wasn’t what struck the judge as odd.
The defendants got a equally aggressive firebrand of a lawyer, who had a habit of bringing in irrelevant testimony and proof. Two-thirds of the time in the case was spend denying motions to the point of incurring sanctions. They raised a religious defense which demanded such treatment, and offered the Bible as proof… and it was the only thing the case stood on.
The judge thought he couldn’t accept it. The plaintiffs had shown that the Bible was considered hearsay from even religious scholars—it could be true, but there wasn’t much of a way to verify it. Too much time had passed between the tellings and the writings by a span of hundreds of years. In addition, a good chunk of the text was considered fake.
But yet, the defense gave it as proof, that it was the definite guide to treating women and others outside their culture, and all laws didn’t apply. Even his old childhood priest would cringe on that!
The judge thus cringed on his right head, while his left concentrated on moving the now cooked food from the frying pan to two plates. He didn’t want to go down a slippery path of ruling what a religious text would say. He checked the docket, the list of all filings in the case, and found an “out”: some vital filings were missing. No official representation filing by the defense, for instance. This made the judge suspicious about the defense’s lawyer.
As he carried his food over to a kitchen table, the judge pondered what to do. While the case would be an easy finding of law over religion, the trial was effectively done without representation. It would be a mistrial—anything else would be overturned on appeal.
And then, an evil thought passed through his mind. The judge grinned twice, and ate.
The judge finished up breakfast, deciding not to be vindictive and quick, but to be thoroughly evil. Several issues were here that could cause problems and he decided to exercise due diligence.
The first was the docket. It was missing something. With his clerk off for the day he dialed up the court’s on-call tech support.
“City Court IT,” the voice at the other end responded. “Trey speaking.”
“Trey!” the judge said. “It’s Janus. How ‘ya doing, bro?”
“Janus! Hey, not too bad. Earning a bit of overtime pay because the usual tech is out sick. They agreed to let a programmer fill in.”
“Oh good. Are you up on your certificates? I need to check on a case here, and you know how our case tracker system is.”
“Yeah, ol’ Bessie. I just got my renewed, and I see you’re on the secured line. What’s the case? Is it your most recent one?”
“The only one I’m active in. Finished up the trial but I need to make sure everything was done by the book before I rule.”
“Not a prob, let me… there we go… ugh, who forgot to give you a magistrate judge? Some of this stuff shouldn’t of been able to be filed without one!”
“So the docket list is correct, we just had a trial with an unqualified lawyer.”
“Disbarred, actually. All 50 states stripped his licenses away, and the feds denied his application.”
“Figures. Guess it’s a mistrial. Send me and my clerk the details. I’m going to issue a ruling on that Monday if I can raise him.”
“Need to get the word out to them?”
“Respond back to the email ordering me to send it out. We do it all the time for the clerks who don’t know the system too well and haven’t thought of getting trained.”
“Very well. Thanks.”
“Send me a pic of what you look like! I hear you hit the Dragon’s Horde yesterday.”
“Yeah, the janitor told me about it. Got carry-out and a growler of beer. I’ll tell ‘ya more later.”
“All right then. Lates.”
click Janus hung up the phone and moved into his walk-in closet. He grabbed a fresh pair of biking shorts, slipping them on over his members and smoothing out his fur underneath. A few good twists and stretches, he then put on some jeans and a t-shirt, which stretched over his chest. “Looking good,” he said in stereo before a full-length mirror, and he exited out to his home office and his PC.
From there, he began to write. He started with an order to force the defense “lawyer” to explain his conduct, before prepping a contempt of court order, an arrest warrant, and as a filing from the plaintiff came in, a mistrial declaration.
Janus then opened up the filing… yep, the dragon of a lawyer for the plaintiff had noticed the defense lawyer’s problems and filed for a mistrial. It was a shame that the plaintiff’s lawyer was putting in that time and effort in… so a quick invitation to file for reasonable reimbursement of fees was dispatched.
One last note for all parties to appear in court on Monday, and he finished up a bit parched. Going back to the kitchen to grab two cans of soda, he looked at the back yard… and said, “Yep, time to clean it out.”
On Monday, court gathered into session. Janus entered in with the customary flowing robes of a judge, sitting down at his bench. Before him the plaintiff and hir lawyer were present, but the defense’s lawyer was missing. Two other people were in the gallery behind the plaintiff.
“Okay, take your seats, let’s begin.” Janus said in stereo. His right head then commented “Did the defense council get my order?”
“Your honor,” the plaintiff’s rather shapely lawyer spoke up, “The defense’s council was arrested at the Dragon’s Horde brewpub on Saturday for disorderly conduct. I had asked the district attorney’s office to send a representative to provide further details.”
“Is the representative in the courtroom at this time?”
A stocky bear stood up and moved to the center. “Your honor, I’m Thad Winston of the DA’s office. The defense’s lawyer is under arrest and is going through a psychiatric evaluation. We do ask for any orders pending to be copied to our office while he is in state custody.”
“Unfortunate.” Janus replied. “I guess some motions can be dispensed with. I’m mooting my order to him to explain himself, and ordering him held in concept of court for not following standard court procedures. That order is stayed for the duration of his custody.
“This also means the defense effectively is unrepresented. Thus, in the interests of justice I am declaring a mistrial. This court will allow the defense two weeks to find capable representation.”
“Your honor,” a human lawyer spoke up. “I’m Noah Whalenorth, chief lawyer for the Ark Group. Our charity just noticed the issues the defense is having and wish to intercede.”
“Go ahead,” Janus said.
“As the defense’s company is a non-for-profit religious charity run now only by two people who are running rather ragged yet doing good work, we would like to take over for them in a non-partisan way. The Ark Group is a non-profit charity which holds no ties to religion in order to serve all religions. And since the staff are here, we’d like to offer a retirement.”
“Interesting…” Janus commented. “It’s been a while since I did any negotiations. Mister and Madam Holly, I do see that some company filings were in the mix. I am to assume any financial penalty that this court would impose would come from your retirement savings?”
The defense, a married human pair, said, “Yes, your honor. We dispersed funds as much as possible, with little waste. But as you know, we are getting rather long in our age, in our late 70’s.”
“True to the word,” Janus added. “Does the plaintiff have any objections?”
“This may actually be more advantageous for both parties.” the plaintiff’s lawyer said. “I have no objection to the Ark Group’s proposal.”
“Mr. Whalenorth, will the Ark Group take over the defense’s side?” Janus asked.
“I’ve been instructed to do so, your honor, should the defense agree to it.” Noah replied. “And we will be able to quickly settle this case with our resources in hand.”
Janus grinned. “Submit a full statement of resources and detailed proposal to the court. I’m staying proceedings of the civil lawsuit, to protect all parties involved, pending review of said proposal.
“Mr. and Miss Holly, I think you need someone a bit more aged for a lawyer…”
The court returned to order on Thursday, this time with three parties. The plaintiff was there, fully represented. The defense was there, with a new lawyer, a terrapin who looked well-traveled. And the Arc Group’s lawyer, for the interceding party.
Janus entered in, once again in the robes, and started proceedings. “Take your seats everyone. Mr. Sebastian Tully, I see you are in my court.”
The terrapin kept standing, remarking “Yes, your honor. Glad to see you as well. It’s not every day I get to help out a fine family with fine traditions.”
“Nice, nice.” Janus said as he pulled up the docket. “A bit of administrata here, as I have not been afforded a magistrate judge. Lets see if everything is in order. Defense… Plaintiff… Interested parties… all proper filings… Ahh yes, good good. All is in order, and this court does recognize all the attorneys here.
“Mr. Tully, have you reviewed Mr. Whalenorth’s proposal?”
Sebastian replied “Yes, your honor, we have. We are in the position to agree to the terms within, as it is very advantageous to all parties involved.”
“Does the plaintiff have an objection?”
The draconic lawyer for the plaintiff responds, “No your honor, we find it actually refreshing.”
“Very well then.” Janus summarizes. “The motion of the Arc Group was reviewed and this court finds no issue with it. If you want to sign and file the agreement here, you may.”
“Five minutes, your honor?” Noah asked.
Noah pulled out a set of papers for the agreement, to which it was signed by all parties, and given to a four-armed racoon clerk. The clerk looked it over, checked things, and nodded to the judge.
Janus smiled twice over. “Very well then, as this agreement is now in force, the court shall allow the Arc Group to intercede on the defense’s part. Mr. Tully, will you be staying on board?”
“Nay, your honor.” Sebastion replied. “My involvement has ended. Given the charity’s good work, I have waived any fee.”
“Quite kind of you! But do remit your regular bill to the court. Services should not be left unrewarded.”
“Yes, your honor.”
“Mr. Whalenorth, are you prepared for trial?”
“Yes your honor,” Noah said, “I do move for a dismissal pending conclusion of an out-of-court settlement that we have filed.”
“Yes, I did see that…” Janus replied. “…quite unusual. Does the plaintiff have any objections.”
The draconic lawyer responded “I actually have no objections on behalf of my client. We both feel that since the main cause of the mistreatment has been identified and is being handled by capable hands, any punitive damages would be onerous. The lost wages and payment of litigation fees will be more than enough.”
“I wish I was laughing, your honor.”
“Lets double-check… my my, you have been busy over the last few days.” Janus opened up more paperwork, his six hands tapping the two tablets used to pull the filings up.
After a few tense minutes, Janus spoke up, and said, “I see no issue with this. I guess my weekend got freed up. Your motion is granted pending filing of the signed settlement with the court.”
“Thank you, your honor.” Noah replied.
“This court is adjourned.” Janus closed with a gavel.
Friday night, Janus made a proper trip to the Dragon’s Horde. Dressed in a tight golf shirt, some tight slacks, and sneakers, he joined up with his brother Trey outside the brewpub.
“BRO!” Janus called over in stereo, waving two left arms. “Over here!”
“Janus!” Trey yelled back, and came over. “Damn, I’d say they did a number on you but it looks goood!”
“Tell me about it. They slipped me a Mickey but I feel so much better for it.”
“I’d say. I heard about it on the transformation forums…”
“Sounds like you’re volunteering to pay my tab.” Janus grinned. “Lets go inside, see how the scenery is.”
Trey agreed and both headed inside, where they found some of the bars regulars: Sam, Joe, Red, and Kathy. A few others were having fun with the baseball game being broadcast.
“Oh hey!” Dan the bartender said as the two came up to the bar. “You must be the pick-up order from last week. Janus, right? The waitress had me mix up an IPA with a Cyera, an Octopod, and a Mirrose.”
“Really? It shows?” Janus asked sarcastically. “Although, a Cywhat?”
Red, the cerebus cougar, chimed in as Dan pointed to the creature. “Hi, I’m Red. A Cyera gave you the extra head, the Octopod added the extra limbs and shaft, and the Mirrose grew your shafts out.”
“Oh, you adjudicated my girlfriend Kathy’s case. Quite an odd settlement, but at least it’s public by design.”
“True true. But that’s a closed case now. My bro here, Trey, wants to open up an investigation of his own of the transformational properties of the bar.”
“Hmmm… Something to fit his name, eh?”
“Well…” Trey started, when Janus boomed “Oh go whole hog!”
“Ask,” Red grinned. “Everything’s custom.”
“You really want me to go all the way, bro?” Trey growled. “Fine. Nine limbed morph. Six arms, three legs. Three heads. Six tails in two groups of three. Two groups of three shafts and nine balls each, and dupe each finger except the thumb on every hand.”
“Uuuuhhhhh…” Janus started to stammer.
“An Octopod, a few Mirrose shots with Hydrabus chasers, a few Sune of Kit shots…”
“And if I can steal the name,” Dan said, mixing things together, “a TreyPod. What’s your beer of choice?”
“I’m kinda dry, actually.” Trey said. “The Boston lager seems a bit too sharp for me.”
“Let’s pour you some samples then.” Dan said, pulling some small shot glasses. “I think a brown ale, a Pilsner lager, and for kicks an IPA will work.” He pulled a few bottles, and pulled out some peanuts. “I’ll put in an order of soft pretzels for you.”
Trey tried all of them, and found an interesting IPA. From there, Dan mixed up two large depth-charged drinks with the IPA. “Heads or tails first?”
“I would suggest heads first,” Red said. “The disorientation takes a bit of time, like five minutes or so. Get it out of the way.”
“Okay…” Trey said, nodding. Dan brought up the “heads” drink (with a good head on it) and guzzled it down in one sitting. Janus’ right head said to Red’s left, “I keep teasing him that he can win bar bets with how he drank.”
“3…” Red’s middle head started to count down. “2… 1…”
And that’s when Trey’s head started to stretch and split, from nose, down his muzzle, through his head, along his neck, to his shoulders. He shook his two heads along with the third, audibly blubbering the sensation… before he got up and starting “WOOOOO! WOOOOO! YEAH!!!! WOOOO!!!! WOOOO!!!!” around the barstool.
“Did I tell you he’s a bit of a lightweight as well?” Janus’ right head added.
“Uuuurrrgggh…” Trey groaned in a sudden shift of tone, and sat back down in his barstool. “…damn, now it’s disorientating. Gimmie a min here…” He then proceeded to lay his heads on the bar.
Dan handed three damp cold towels to Kathy, who laid them on Trey’s necks. “Take it easy there. You just crashed from a transformation high. First transformation and all. The second is going to be a pure let-down as you get used to it.”
“Yeah,” Trey groaned with his right head. The middle head murred “Just give me the second beer,” while the third said, “I’m going to be feeling it tomorrow for sure.”
“Aaaah the ol’ family tradition.” Janus mused with his left head. “Yes, always try things a few times to make sure we don’t like it.”
“I’ll let it go this time,” Dan said, “But I’ll have to call our driver for him.” He put the “tails” drink infront of Trey, who started drinking with his middle head.
“I know the way.” Janus’ right head murred. “Just a stout for me, and cut me off there. No sense over-doing it when you’ll need to pour your bro into bed.”
Trey finished the drink, turning around to catch himself on the bar as he up-ended himself. “Ugh, best idea there.” he muttered in surround sound, as he handed the mug back to Dan… and his hands started growing, splitting into three and traveling down his arms to the shoulders, his shirt popping free from where it was tucked in place and ripping a bit as his second and third pair of pectorals split out. His belly flattened into toned abdominals before his pants ripped, his hips widening and middle leg growing. Within minutes, he was near-nude, six sets of junk hanging out… and not quite caring.
“Here.” Red said, handing him a large kilt. “I was going to give this to the skunk and hound over there, but you need it more.”
Sam and Joe unwound themselves to assist. “It’s okay,” Sam said to Red, “we didn’t get a kick out of being conjoined. I was going to cancel the order but it looks like Trey here could use it.”
A dragon came out, saying “Soft pretzels for Trey?”
Kathy, a cerebus snow leopard herm, motioned over as Sam and Joe helped Trey slip on the kilt. “Over here, Terry. He just got transformed and he’s a lightweight on the booze.”
Terry irked and said, “Oooh boy.” Another Terry quickly came out with ham, cornbread and butter. “Here,” that Terry said.
Dan poured a soda, saying “We’ll have to limit you until your tolerance gets better.”
Trey murred “Yeah, I’m not all that up on getting sloshed.”
Kathy hmmmed as the two Terries slipped back into the kitchen “That shirt has got to go.” Shi ripped off Trey’s shirt, showing a very welcoming view. “Much better. We’ll have ‘ya like a drunken Scotsman in no-time.”
“HEY!” Trey objected, starting to sound like one. “Whacha language you wee lass. I ain’t tempted to turn into a grimm bloody fairy tale frum the old country, aye…” Then his stomach growled. “Ooooh I really hit low. Set me down, boys, and hand me potatoes and leeks.”
Thirty minutes of munching and chatting later, Trey recovered enough to be able to stand on his own. “Aye… heh, yeah, I’ve played too much Team Fortress 2,” he started. “I could stand to gain a few pounds in the right places, though.”
“There’s the Multiverse Gym down near Red’s,” Joe piped up. “They’ve gone multi friendly and the scenery…” Joe ended with a sigh.
“Plus, Red and Kathy are good tailors for multi-clientel,” Sam said. “I bet they could go into business by themselves.”
“Here,” Red said, handing out cards as another dragon came out. “The company let me go but I’m making a comfortable living now. Turns out the Dragon’s Horde isn’t the only one with transformative elixirs.”
“It’s a family owned business,” the dragon said. “Guess we had an effect.”
“Oh, hello Cyren!” Kathy said. “Good news! Madam Valkarie helped me settle my case. The Arc Group took over for the charity.”
“The Arc Group? Heh….” Cyren said with a smile.
“I sense some involvement here, Cyren,” Red noticed. “What ‘cha thinking?”
“We’ve known Arc Group for a good long while, but I’m surprised they pulled this one off. They’re a good group that even helped out some dragon kind in the past. I wouldn’t put it past them to intervene but I’m surprised they did in this small case.”
“An unusual case at that,” Janus said. “Janus Greek, circuit court judge. An interesting settlement at that.”
“So what brings you to the Dragon’s Horde, Judge Greek?” Cyren said.
“Just call me Janus,” the judge replied, “and blame him,” pointing to his triplicated brother. “I had take out originally but he wanted to try it on his own.
“Becoming namesakes, eh?” Cyren grinned. “Welcome then. Of course, this knocks you out of any litigation concerning the bar.”
“Eh…” Janus triple-shrugged in stereo. “…let it take its natural course.”
“Ooooo…” Trey noticed a pair of twins. “That’s… uuuhhhhggghhh…” He sat back down. “Now it’s really hitting.”
“Lightweight, I take it?” Cyren asked, pointing to Trey. Janus nodded both heads.
“Yeah,” Trey said, turning around. “Too bad there isn’t a training regimen for drinking.”
“I think we can accommodate that.” Cyren grinned. “Tomorrow, maybe?”
“Next week.” Dan said. “We’re out of mead. AGAIN.”
“I can’t help it.” Cyren said, turning meek. “It’s too good. I’m… addicted.”
“Well at the very least pay for it!”
Janus spoke, “It’s a good idea, keeps the ledger clean and won’t trip an auditor or a lawyer.”
“Oh, okay.” Cyren said. “I’ll double the order and have our geek yank my next paycheck. I think I drank enough to burn it.”
“You at least drank enough to mellow out, Boss.” Dan replied.
“Heh…” Cyren puffed. “…at least I don’t do my taxes when I drink.”
“So that’s settled then,” Janus replied. “For the court fee, a driver is needed for Trey…”
“I’ll call. Your keys, Trey?”
Trey readily handed them over, as the typical Friday night wore on at the Dragon’s Horde.
Norm stirred awake on the couch in his apartment, sunlight shining in the window right onto his face. He stretched and yawned, shifting around and sitting up. A hangover wasn’t helping matters, but he drank heavily the night before, and memories were fleeting for the badger.
“Ugh” he mumbled, pawing at his muzzle. “What happened… let me get some food.” That’s when he got up…
…and hit his head on the ceiling, making his hangover that much worse. Damn small apartment, he groused as he ducked down and felt his head. He’d swore he’d get out of it, but for a former football player who could only land a local steel mill job, it was a depressing setting.
At least it had a shower, which he decided he needed… and yet he felt a bit of a weight dragging between his legs. On his way, he grabbed a full Gatorade bottle from the fridge and started drinking that down. It slowly killed the hangover, and he moved into the bathroom, shucking a torn shirt and jeans off.
He stepped into the shower and turned it on, grateful that it poured from the ceiling and not form the side, where it would miss his head.
“Wait…” he thought, “…aren’t I a bit taller?” Slowly regaining more senses he looked down at himself. Instead of a pudge of a badger, he’d swapped fat for muscle, looking rather trim and fit… even if he had extra pecs… and arms… and hands.
“Whoa.” he said out loud. He held up all six of his hands, each gaining an extra ring finger. “Man, this is freaky.” He then reached below, and picked up his cock, a meaty soda-can thick member stretching down to his ankles, pierced under the head with a ring. His ballsack laid underneath of it, twice as big as before.
“Too freaky.” he said, hooking the ring up to an unused washcloth hook before soaping up and rinsing off. He vaguely remembered seeing a three headed cougar at this place… and then going to a shop of some kind with jewelry…
Shutting off the shower, he then toweled himself dry, unhooked himself, and let himself hang. “That actually feels good.” he said. “I wonder if anything will fit though…” He then looked himself in the mirror, and saw one other piercing, a bridge pierce, and his glasses hooked right into them. “Heh, guess those won’t slip out now.”
With that, he moved to his bedroom, and checked some pants. Loose, but still usable now. He snaked his shaft down the right leg… then the left, feeling more comfortable. “Huh, so that’s why.” Norm commented.
His cell phone then vibrated awake, and he picked it up. He didn’t recognize the number, but felt that he should answer it. “Hello?”
“Hi,” the voice softly started, “This is Red from Oddball Tailoring. Did I reach Norm?”
“Red…” Norm stammered. “Uh… Yeah, I’m Norm.”
“Hey, it’s the three headed cougar from last night.”
It then clicked. “Oh. Oh, sorry, kinda nursing a hangover.”
“I figured. I thought I’d give you a call to see how you’re holding up. I knew you were a bit sloshed when we went over to the bod mod parlor last night.”
“Yeah, I got bits and pieces of memories there. I just got up.”
“It’s 10:45am right now. I have a care package for you. Would you like to go out and get coffee with me, and we’ll talk about it?”
“Jeep’s in the shop, and I got fired from my job.”
“Yeah, come on over.”
At a local mom & pop cafe, Norm and Red sat down. A waitress, a double-busty vixen, brought them coffee and offered brunch. Red declined but told her that he’s paying for Norm. Norm asked for a meat-heavy meal.
“This helps.” Norm asked as the waitress went to put the order in. “I don’t know how I got this way. I mean, I’ve been good with my hands…” He then looked at all six of them… and facepalmed with two of them. “I can’t believe I just said that after all these years.”
“Yeah,” Red started. “It’s the effect of the Octopod shot you had. The bartender slipped you one in the going away party last night. It’ll shift your reality a bit.”
Norm unfacepalmed and took another sip of coffee. “And you?”
“Volunteered. Most do.”
“Yeah. Can’t go back to football, though. What happened last night? I know we had a bash over there but after like three drinks…”
“The third they asked for a Mind Bender, which doesn’t exist. Your third drink was regular beer, and you became impressionable. The guys over at the steel mill joined up with the transform crowd, and you got inducted.”
At that time Joe, a stretched hound, arrived and called “Hey Red!” Red noticed and motioned him over and not so loud. Joe ooooohhhed and came over with a middle-eastern dragon dressed in jeans and t-shirt.
“Joe,” Red said, “this is Norm. He’s suffering from a hangover and a case of missing nights.”
“Hi,” Joe said. “Sorry about that. This is Orpheous, a doctor who’s also a piercer.”
“Orrie for short.” the dragon said, and noticed. “Ooooh I know you from last night. You were kinda out of it and rather impressionable. I did your PA and your bridge.”
“Hi.” Norm replied. “I’m Norm. Don’t mind me, I got fired from my steel mill job. Kept getting in too late due to the bus and train after my Jeep died. Ended up drinking the shock away.”
“Aaaah yes, so that was that crowd. They were insistent on having you loaded up. Bah, you needed a change of pace anyway. Any bleeding or anything? I usually made sure you’re healed first.”
“I haven’t noticed. All the extras… and the added length…”
“Your trouser python is my fault. I grabbed an enchanted ring for your PA ring. It stops growing when it hits the floor. I can shrink it back down if…”
“Nah,” Norm interrupted, as the waitress delivered his meal. “I’ll keep it. May even see about growing it out more, but the job search comes first.”
“The Jeep comes first.” Joe said, motioning for more menus. “What’s wrong with it?”
“I think I ground out all the gears in the transmission. Could use a swap-out. I could do it myself if I had…” he looked at his other hands, and finished, “…heh, a replacement transmission.”
“Walt should have it. I got a tow bar, I can haul it over.”
Orrie hands over a package, adding “Some jewerly for free. Should be more comfortable, and I know you’re a show-er now, not a grower.”
“Like I can get stiff now.” Norm said between bites.
“You’ll like the Price’s Wand in there then, but if you want to go longer, see me. My card’s in the box.”
“I’ll think about it after I land a new job.” Norm added, before turning to Joe. “Joe, right?”
“You got it.” Joe said.
“I’ll take you up on the offer to get the Jeep to Walt’s.”
“After brunch, then. Steak and eggs, hon?”
Red dropped off Norm and helped Joe with the towbar on the Jeep. A short trip later ended at Walt’s auto repair shop, where Walt got off his rocking chair and greeted them.
“JOE!” The old badger came up to Joe’s truck. “I’d recognize your truck anywhere. Calling in a favor?”
“You can say that, Walt.” Joe replied. “Especially with that plumbing work for your lift. You still using it?”
“Yep, and I guess it’s going to get a workout with that ol’ Jeep. Who’s your… Norm?”
Norm, riding shotgun, said, “Hi, pops.”
“Damn son, about time you came back. Was always good with a wrench, and you knew the diagnostic computer doohickey better than anything. Still got your certification?”
“Never expired.” Norm replied. “Sounds like you’re looking for help.”
“Help ain’t even the word. But you and that steel mill…”
“Got fired from it due the beast we’re hauling in.”
“Pull it around back and into a bay, Joe. If Normy’s still got it, he’s got a job here. Hell, if that’s the model I’m thinkin’ it is, there’s a recall that requires a full engine and transmission swap-out.”
Joe looked at Norm with a smirk. Norm shrugged, and got out to guide Joe in.
Two hours later, a new engine and transmisison was in, and Walt was bringing out paperwork. “Son, what were you making at that steel mill?”
“$35K.” Norm replied. “Barely enough to live on.”
“I’d say. You’re hired for $60K, and I’m giving you a $5K signing bonus.”
“Well, that’ll help in the new apartment hunt then.” Norm said, turning the key to the Jeep as it roared to life. “Aaaah much better. Bertha’s been sick for a long time.”
“Here’s my address,” Joe said. “I’m moving in with my mate Sam, but the landlord wants me to find a replacement.”
“Convient.” Norm growled, accepting the note. He then noticed the dusty tow truck, and said, “Hey pops, what’s with the tow truck?”
“I got no driver!” Walt said. “If I got one who knows his stuff I’d hire him and take care of the dispatch myself. And if he’s a looker as well…”
Norm grinned. “You ol’ horn dog. If you don’t mind another badger, I may know of someone. I just got to visit the Dragon’s Horde one more time.”
Facing the front of the Dragon’s Horde, a badger sighed. His job was let go. Budget cuts, they said. The lowest of the low had to go, and he was it. Not that he was a good mechanic, or that he was licensed to even drive buses. But he was let go, and he couldn’t go to the bar. Thus he turned…
…and ran right into Norm.
“Cliff!” Norm said. “Funny running into you here!”
“Oh hey Norm.” the badger responded. “Yeah. Wish I could go.”
“Oh you always can. Come, drink with me.”
“Can’t. Got let go.”
“Drinks are on me.”
Cliff said, “Really?”
Norm said, “I got a new old job, and want to celebrate. Come in!”
Inside, Norm greeted Red and Orrie. Orrie was catching up with the bar’s owner, Cyren, when Norm came in.
“Cyren, you’ve seen Norm here…” Orrie picked up. “He got the GroundClanger ring.”
“Aaaah,” Cyren said, “Heya, Norm. How ‘ya feeling?”
“I’m okay.” Norm said. “This is Cliff, an old friend of mine.”
“Hey Cliff. What brings you here?”
“Got let go from my job at the old wood mill.” Cliff responded. “Company went bust, and nobody’s hiring drivers.”
“Aaaaaah!” Norm raised three finger-pointing hands. “But have you talked to Walt over at his garage yet?”
“That old man? What he got?”
“A tow truck with no driver.”
“Yeah, but who’s the mechanic?”
“YOU!?!” Cliff exclaimed. “Weren’t you at that steel mill?”
“Was. Landed the new old job today.”
“And weren’t you shorter and less handy before?”
Norm pointed to Cyren, saying “Hands are his fault, but very useful now,” and then to Orrie saying “Trouser snake is his fault, and I’m tempted to go longer.”
“Hell, Normy,” Cliff said, “I dare ‘ya to go full hosecocked. You do that, I’ll match it.”
“I wouldn’t advise that,” Cyren said. “Mixing types of magic is too risky.”
“Generally it is,” Orrie countered, “But there’s some compatibility if we’re not stepping on each other’s toes.”
“Well, I was going to put myself on a short cut-off limit here.” Norm said. “I overdid it yesterday.”
“I’d say. Three beer limit, no depth charging and no special shots.” Cyren said.
“Sounds good. Got some paper and a pencil? I gotta see how long I want to be.”
Cyren pulled out a pad of paper and a mechanical pencil. “You’re not the only one.”
Some quick calculations later, Norm said, “I need to go six times my current length… and I’ll need the newer pants I got from Red.”
“Geesh,” Cliff exclaimed “and I matched you when you retired from football.”
“I was this long yesterday when I got fired.” Norm said, showing his with his hands. Cyren noticed, and grinned.
Orrie saw that look on Cyren’s face and moaned “Ooooh boy. I know that look. I already know he needs a 6x-er ring from me.”
“Yes,” Cyren mused, “and Dan’s off today, so I’m mixing up a depth-charged drink for Cliff.” He turned towards the kitchen and yelled “HEY TERRY! CALL RED, SEE IF HE OR KATHY IS COMING OVER AGAIN TODAY! I GOT AN OCTOPOD AND A CASE OF MIRROSE TO MIX!”
“Heh…” Cliff chortled, “Guess you’ll fill out your full name Normy.”
“What’s that?” Orrie asked.
As drinks were poured at the Dragon’s Horde, Norm answered “E. Normous Johnson.”
A Dragon’s Horde tale inspired by the Toledo water scare of 2014.
“A toxic chemical spill into the city’s water reservoir system has contaminated all potable water. City and surrounding counties are urged not to use any water. Do not cook with it. Do not drink it. Do not wash or bathe in it. Scientists are determining the effect of the spill and when it will be safe.”
A grueling day was what Greg endured that Friday. Trains were late to work, the heat was oppressive in the office, tempers flared up, and police were called when his coworker flashed a gun at the boss. The ferret that is his boss was injured, the police took down that nut-ball cheetah, and after statements he was the last person out as the office leadership fell to him. A mink who by then had a migraine.
So he closed the office early. Clients were called, meetings rescheduled, systems locked down for the night, corporate notified. Everyone understood, and the early weekend was a nice gesture, but corporate didn’t believe it until he screamed at him in plain terms that senior staff were shot at, police wanted more access to the scene, and nothing else could be done.
This ended up him turning off radios as they started to break news of the toxic spill into the water supply. He was emotionally spent. He didn’t care anymore, he had to button up things and get on home. Something blabbering about drowning in air or illogic gobbledygook. Home was on his mind, and taking a crowded later train didn’t help matters.
By the time he got home, all he wanted was a shower. He dropped his pack into a seat and started stripping off sweat-laden clothes along the hallway to the bathroom. He was fit and trim for a mink, with a high metabolism, and his shaft and balls were ready to release from his briefs when he stepped into the bathroom.
That was the thing with minks, is that they were hung thick and heavy by default. The only thing to compare them to was horses and such. “Getting a mink” had become a synonymous with “I’m stinking rich.”
Greg wasn’t like that. He could play the endowed butler/man-servant part, but his fancy was more technical. He replaced an odd feline cerebus who spooked upper management when he came in. But upper management needed a programmer who could come into the office, and Greg was good.
And he was wet, having stepped into the shower and turned it on good and hot. He closed his eyes under the beating shower head, sighed, and sought to relax.
That’s when he started growing.
As he stood there, water pelting his neck and back, it absorbed into his body and under the skin. Each ounce stretching his shoulders out, bulking up his muscles, thickening his legs, widening his waist, hips, hands and paws. He grew from barely 6’ to over 7’, and his already packed 10” cock thickened and stretched to 3’ over rapidly-inflating balls.
“Mmmmmmmm….” he thought, enjoying the growth as he relaxed and grew, hitting 8’ tall and absolutely overflowing. He soaped up and rinsed off, before looking down… at chest. Absolutely huge chest. And instead of panicking, he carefully turned off the water, and let it drain.
Then he panicked.
Red turned off the TV. The three-headed cougar grimaced and shook his heads. The water situation couldn’t of happened at a worse time, and he was about to head on out, but Kathy insisted to go out early and get water. His mate and herm snow leopard counterpart thankfully took the truck and not the work van, because he knew if it transformed someone, he’d…
…get a call. He pulled out his phone and check the number. It was Greg, and he answered it.
“Hey Greg, it’s Red.”
“RED! OH GAWD! YOU GOT TO HELP ME!”
“I’M A MOUNTAIN! I don’t know what happened BUT YOU GOT TO HELP ME!”
“Greg, are you sitting down?”
“No, I’m absolutely…”
“Sit down you mink!” Red yelled into the phone in surround sound.
An “eep” and ten seconds later, a creek followed by “I’m sitting down. I’m on my couch as my chair is too small for me.”
“Did you drink the water or bathe in it?”
“I just had a shower. I had a bad day and just wanted to relax.”
“Okay, understandable. How big are your hands?”
“Huge! I had to find the stylus just to use the phone.”
“Okay, can you carefully turn on the radio to 103.1 FM?”
“The all news station? Yeah.”
“Give me your address, I’ll be right over. You’re probably nude now and I can whip up some clothes for you in a few minutes.”
A short while later, Greg opened the door to Red, who held up a cloak to protect everyone else. In his other two arms was his equipment kit and a fabric chest. “This should do it.” Red said as Greg closed the door.
“Are you sure that’ll be enough?” Greg asked in the buff, having decided to eschew any sense of coverage.
“At least three pairs of pants that’ll fit me,” Red replied, putting his stuff down and setting up the equipment, “and about five tees. You look like four pairs and maybe three tees. Better than nothing.”
“In the meanwhile…”
Red pulled out three measuring tapes. “I’m measuring ya and chatting with ‘ya. Single head, of course. Besides, you had a bad day? You involved in that shooting?”
Greg nodded. “Yeah, coworker shot my boss in the shoulder, tried to take his own, but security tackled him down. Work’s shut down for the investigation.”
Red smirked and then posed, upper arms out, the rest behind him. “Stand like this, gotta get your baseline. Who took over for the boss?”
Greg moaned. “Me. I made the call to shut it down for the weekend. Ended up yelling at corporate about it.”
Red measured Greg’s massive chest and waist. “Aaaah, yeah, the numbskulls in corporate always will want to tear your hair out.”
“At least you kept yours.” Greg mused, as both arms were measured.
“It’s actually grown back.” Red said. “Okay, bodybuilder time, flex your arms up.”
Greg pushed and flexed, growing his upper arms by twice.
“WHOA!” Red said. “Damn, Greg, that spiked water not only beefed you up, it turned your guns into cannons! Hold that pose.” He measured them again, and hmmmed… “I’ll have to get the spandex out from the van. You’ll be shredding shirts in no-time if I don’t use it.”
“How about the pants?” Greg said. “And how do you…”
Red patted his own frontal package. “This? Rather easily. I designed the jeans to pull my junk forward so I’m not straddling them.”
“Oh nice!” Greg said. “Lets get those jeans done… um…”
“I’m mated already, hon.”
“Tiz not a problem. I’ve seen many a preference.” Red purred as he measured Greg’s legs, tail, and endowments. “Heh… you’re matching me on the legs, actually, and half my package.”
“So what do I owe you for all this?”
“Drinks at the Dragon’s Horde? They’ll open and they get their water from the northern county. Plus, they spike it to order.”
“Think they can shrink me back down?”
“Nah, that huge? You carry it well. Plus, a quarter ton of mink?”
“Heh, we’ll see.”
A few sets of clothing later, and a travel bottle full of “water” later, the two sit down at the bar of the Dragon’s Horde. Red greeted the bartender, a four-armed dragon named Dan, with a “Hey Dan!”
“Hey Red! Who’s your beefy friend?” Dan replied.
“This is Greg. He showered in the affected water.”
“Hi.” Greg meekly said.
“Geeesh, that bad?” Dan said. “I’m tempted to find out what was in that water myself.”
Red held up the water bottle. “No need to travel down to find out.”
Dan looked at it… and coiled back. “Somethin’s moving in there. Hold on, let me get the geek and the boss.” Dan walked over to the office door and said, “Cyren, Archie? You may want to look at this. Red brought someone who got watered on.”
The big beefed up dragon that makes up Cyren comes out, followed by a two headed doberman carrying a laptop, a digital microscope, and some cables in six arms.
Dan came back and said, “Red, you already know Cyren. Cyren, the mink is Greg, Red’s friend.”
“Greg actually replaced me at my old job.” Red said. “But he’s a good programmer and web designer. I may hire him on the side to do our web presence.”
“If I get a big enough keyboard, Red.” Greg retorted. “Look at me! I’m absolutely huge!”
“I’d say.” the doubled dobie barked. “I’m Archie, the geek. What’s with the water?”
“Here.” Red says, handing Cyren the clear water bottle over. “This is what Greg bathed in. Caused him to go huuuge.”
“Hmmmm.” Archie muses, putting down the laptop and plugging in the microscope. “What do we have here….”
“There’s definitely some movement in there, like some small creatures.” Cyren says. “Granted my eyesight isn’t as sharp as it was centuries back…”
“CYREN!” Dan screamed.
“What?” Cyren said, handing the bottle to Archie. “I’m old!”
“Open secret,” Red said. “It’s in the medical books.”
“Well,” Archie said, zooming in on the water bottle. “What does this say?”
Red arched a head around to see the screen, and howled “That’s the rubber nanotech they invented at the city college earlier this month! It was all up on Reddit. They break down in alcohol.”
Archie hmmmm’ed with his right head while his left looked at Cyren, who nodded. The doberman’s hands then flew fast over the keyboard, pulling up the latest research. Dan noticed, and grinned.
Red looked on with one head and mentioned “I doubt we can get through all that jargon…”
Dan pointed to a plaque on the wall. “Cyren’s a fully licensed doc. Was in a MASH unit in Korea.”
Cyren looked at the research… and grimaced. He kept reading… before his eyes widened up, his jaw dropped a bit… and then he grinned. “Dan, remember that time you made the Ultimate Sugar High?”
“You mean BRUTOMAX’s Little Squirt?” Dan said. “That made me buzz for the entire weekend, but the crash knocked me out for a week…”
“That bad?” Greg said.
“Dan had to charge the train ticket to the biz account to get back home.” Cyren said. “Although, the biz did expand there. Anyway, make another one for Greg. Those nanobots are mini fermenting factories with yeast already there. He’ll be very drunk for the size of things…”
Red looked at Greg, who was thinking, and said, “This alcohol can be used for the shot potions, right?”
“I don’t see why not, unless…”
“Got a shot that makes me a long slinky taur?” Greg asked.
“Sounds like a stretch of Ferrinters with a Taurcent chaser.” Dan said. “Boss?”
Cyren hmmmsss… putting a finger under Greg’s chin and lifting it up gently. A moment of thought, and he said, “Yep! Stretch him out, we’ll bill the government.”
Monday came, and Greg was already opening up the office. His desk chair was moved into an empty cubicle, unneeded now. Instead, Greg simply laid around on the floor… and around… and around.
The night before, Greg had sent out an email, the office would be open and he would bring in come grief counselors to help those affected. He opened up the three smaller conference rooms for two felines and a dragon to come in and just talk. No penalty, he’ll work it out with corporate.
Corporate however got hit with a ton of information, emailed and faxed, including press clippings and the boss’ current condition. If corporate ignored it, well, it would be their own damn fault.
Thus, Greg settled down with his PC open and mentally prepped himself for a hard Monday… when his phone rang. The ID screamed “Corporate HQ”. Greg reluctantly picked it up. “Northwest division IT, Greg speaking…
“Oh, hi Gwen! I’m surprised that you called. Not every day the CEO calls…
“You sacked middle management? Over Frank?
“Heh, good to hear. In this situation office politics must be put aside.
“The office is open, and I’ve brought in some grief counselors to help those who could use it. They’ll be here for the next few days. I’ve started water service while the city flushes the lines, and I’ve banned smoking everywhere but a dedicated smoke shack. The water is currently rather flammable at this time. I’m also bringing back Red for the short while to cover my duties while I’m covering the boss. The boss is out for at least a week.
“Yeah, the boss was a bit freaked out by him. But then he was skimming off IT’s budget for ages. I’m moving those funds back, and some of the other funds for a few projects he’s killed I’m using for more productive means.
“Oh really now? Maybe I should get you in contact with Red, as he’s gotten into custom tailoring…
“Three headed, six armed, stretched a bit, over-endowed, a bit muscular, nine tailed. And yet he rocked a golf shirt and khaki’s. Very professional. Yet made it himself.
“Really? As a designer?
“Ahhh, the basic wear line! I’ll talk with Red, then. The combined cash from the canceled projects would fit just nicely, and if I can pull it off with the training…
“I’d be more transparent with the biz, run it local and lean on the profit. Just enough to get folk in, and see about long term goals. Run the stores like a Men’s Warehouse, custom tailoring on site, on call if needed after hours. Basics in the front, more stylish in the middle, and a separate exotic section in the back. Didn’t we have a latex line?
“Ahhh, over there. I’d open a deal because you know they’ll have some kinksters there…
“Very well then. I’ll write it up in detail and send it over. If it takes off, I think we can do a bit of research into The Dragon’s Horde bar and open up where they are…
“I think his name is Cyren…
“I would recommend an ‘inspection’ of our facilities then, ending in a visit to them.
“Oh no, long story. As long as me currently.
“Nah, that’s before I hit the bar. I have photos. I have a water delivery soon anyway.
“Ugh. Anyway, looks like I have to write up Team Lax IT. They were supposed to call out by 9am and all they’ve done is emailed.
“I’ll CC you on them as well too. Not the first time they’ve been caught. I’ve pulled previous write-ups from backups. Boss may have tried to hide them as well…
“I’ll send them over. Catcha later.”
By that time Red was in the door frame of the office. Greg looked over and smiled.
“How’s it going, Stretch?” Red started.
“It’s just starting!” Greg said. “I got an idea from the CEO to float by you. Give me thirty, and I’ll meet in the big conference room.”
That Friday at the Dragon’s Horde, Red and Greg brought an old friend of Cyren over. The shock of seeing Gwen had Cyren vault over the bar, stick the landing, and floor Joe and Sam’s jaws. Archie, who was behind the bar as well, just shook his heads.
“Gwendolyn!” Cyren said. “What brings you here, other than a cerebus cougar and the fifty-foot mink?”
“Work, alas my dear Cyren,” Gwen purred, a European dragon in khakis, a camisole, and a corset so tight she looked absolutely wasp-waisted. “Some underlings needed to be removed from the picture, but Greg here is pulling off a good deal here.”
“Oh tell me more!” Cyren said, pulling a chair up as Red and Gwen sat at the bar and Greg coiled around two barstools, stretching his neck out to match Red’s three.
“Well, since your business is going very well, and my garment business is steady, I can invest the money into some experimentation.” Gwen then scritched one of Red’s chins and Greg’s head. “Who knew I already had great talent to pull it off, so I’ve did a bit of reorganization.”
“I’m opening up a multi-friendly clothing store nearby. The boys here are going to run it, manage it, and do the designs. Red’s mate Kathy already has some designs that I’ll bring her on for as well. Of course, they’ll be tailors on hand and a good local seamstress shop for bulk orders.”
“Sounds like a handful.” Cyren said with a grin.
“Very much. Even the IT side is getting pushed away with this.” Greg said.
“Well, there is an option, but I don’t know…” Archie mused.
“You’re mine, Archie.” Cyren said.
“No no no.” Archie replied. “I’m talking about Ben and Link. They’re finishing up one contract but those cats are really looking for some place to settle down into. But given the workplace environment…”
“OH!” Gwen said. “That reminded me! I visited your old boss, Greg. He was very worse for wear. I’ve talked to HR and he is taking an early retirement. You will be heading up that division.”
“And the slackers in IT I gave a week unpaid vacation to?” Greg asked.
“Send them my way or the highway.”
“Also, a few have expressed some disdain over Red. It’s a vocal few, but known troublemakers. The old boss was hiding complains from others about it, and I think many of them need to be removed…”
“I fired some of them this morning. Some of the complaints hit my desk. There’s one or two that need to act up first.”
“Hire Ben and Link then.” Archie replied, handing a business card over. “They’re two felines from Siam who are rather…”
The pregnant pause got noticed by the group, as everyone turned.
“…I want to date them both. They always are together, and I bet they’ll so close they want to merge together.”
“Well, that’s news to us!” two voices cried out from the door way. Two siamese cats were waiting there, and they came over to the group. They dressed exactly the same, looked exactly the same.
“Ben? Link? What are you doing here?” Archie double-barked.
“Hearing much about this place.” one of the cats said. “Although, given how much we’ve talked earlier…”
“…we thought we visit and see you at work.” the other feline finished. “We’ve finished our last contract, but… merging?”
“Welcome to the Dragon’s Horde.” Archie said, “We have a fine selection of ales, wines, ciders, beers, and liquors to loosen your tongue. But to walk the wild side is an event onto it’s own. For that we can provide, like we have to many of a returning regular here.”
“The Conjuka shot. For a weekend bender or together forever.”
“Hmmm… we need to think about that.”
“We don’t have a job lined up that would accommodate us.”
Red cleared his throats in unison with Greg, before the three-headed cougar pointed to the stretched mink. “Talk to him.”
“Who…” the virtual twins said.
Greg held out both hands. “I’m Greg, from Stratmore-apon-Avon Textiles. I’m the regional director.”
“How to you do.” One siamese with cyan eyes said. “I’m Ben.”
“I’m Link,” the other, with emerald eyes added. The two shook hands, showing opposite hand-age. “I guessed you sussed out how to separate us.”
“Maybe,” Greg said. “But I’d like to interview you two for two long-term IT positions with benefits. The interview panel is composed of me, my boss Gwen over here, and my designer Red here. Pass this impromptu interview, and drinks are on us.”
Ben and Link looked at each other… and grinned.
Thus, a deal was made over drinks at the Dragon’s Horde.
Things had gone well at the garment company once the CEO made changes. An old boss retired, some of the toxic staff moved or removed, and an interesting shift that became very very profitable.
And yet time and time again Officer Robert Thames had to rush to the scene because some nut had come over and inevitably he’d had to perform some heroics to de-escalate the situation. Usually it involved a gun. Some times he’d be able to talk the person out of it, but usually it’s been some sort of physical altercation.
This last time he caught himself. It was the third incident he was being called over to in a week and he nearly snapped. The guy, a hot-headed corgi spouting off that multis were the work of the devil, was distracted by his own rant. The bobcat officer pounced him as he turned around, flooring him. Growling, the officer was about to throw a heavy punch into the dog’s face.
He reached back… and saw the look of pure terror in the corgi’s face. That’s when he knew, he was crossing a line no officer should cross.
Keeping his eyes on the corgi, he reached for his cuffs, and handcuffed the would-be shooter. And he did something that he had never had to do before.
He called for backup.
His supervisor, who went simply by “Sarge” came out with two more officers, and found Officer Thames slumped besides the restrained perp. After formalities and hauling away the suspect, Sarge looked at Thames… and knew. The big liger brought the bobcat over to the latter’s vehicle.
“Rob,” Sarge started up. “You caught yourself, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” Rob said. “It’s too much…”
“Third in the past week, and they’re coming like clockwork. Gimme your keys, I’m driving.”
Rob handed Sarge the keys to his squad car. “Yeah, it’s like there’s a convention going on. I don’t know…”
“Well, relax kiddo.” Sarge got in the car and waited for Rob to get in on the other side. “I’m taking you to the precinct. Spafford and Quill are going to post here until things die down.”
“Wait, we can’t…” Rob started as he entered the car.
“The Governor tried to pull a dumb move by ordering your backup call to be ignored.” Sarge said as he started the car. “It shocked the Lt. Governor, Mayor, and the D.A. enough that they yanked that lazy bum of a lion over and smacked some sense into him. DA then had the Chief pull the staff off Governor guard duty, which actually was half the force there. Called it budget cuts.
“But back to my point. You NEVER call for backup. Something snapped. You snapped.”
As the squad car moved onto a city street, Rob said, “I caught myself wanting to punch out that corgi.”
“Frustrated? Burnt out?”
“Ready to crash.”
Sarge nodded as he pulled into the precinct. “Yeah, you’re toast. Holiday weekend is here. You’re taking off those four days, paid, starting now.”
Rob stammered a bit, saying “But… but…”
Sarge parked and turned off the squad car. “No buts. Not here, anyway.”
Rob sighed. “Thanks, Sarge.”
Sarge put a hand on Rob’s shoulder and said, “Hey, don’t thank me yet. There’s a boxing ring by the Dragon’s Horde. Go in, grab a rental set of gear, and beat up on someone properly. Afterwards, have a beer. You could use some more pounds on you anyway.”
“All right, Sarge.” Rob hehed. “Guess I should throw some punches anyway.”
Rob entered the building housing Rocky’s Ring and Gym. He approached the main desk, noticing a coyote… or was it three coyotes merged into one… working out on a custom leg machine working all three legs.
“Ain’t he sumthin’” a squat little dragon chomping on a cigar said. “But then I’ve seen worse get better here.”
“Yeah.” Rob said, before looking back and down. “Um, do I sign up or what? Sarge over at the precinct…”
“Sarge sent ‘cha?” the dragon said. “Must be that guy that keeps those nuts out of the clothing factory. Heard today was hard.” He motioned to a side booth. “Come, I gotcha today. What’s your name, son?”
“Officer Robert Thames.”
“Bobby then. Call me Coach. Sit down, take off your shirt, let me get ‘cha equipped. Sarge usually sends fighters here let off some steam. You boxed before?”
Rob went topless, and sat in a seat next to a booth as Coach pulled up a stool and started measuring Rob’s head. “A little, did a bit at high school.”
“Let’s see what ya’ got, kid.” Coach said, before he turned and yelled “HEY CHARLIE! I GOTTA SCRUB HERE, LETS SEE WHAT HE’S GOT.” He turned back and gave the measurements to a cobra naga, saying “He’s wearing a cup already, skip that.” The dragon turned and asked “You ready to knock someone’s lights out?”
“Nearly did back at that place.” Rob said, as the naga slithered back out with boxing equipment. “Kinda want to get the rest of it out.”
“I hear ‘ya kid.” Coach said as the naga taped up Rob’s hands. “Sarge sends the force over for that. Half of ‘em box here. I filter ‘em through. You’re going to do a round or two against Charlie. He’ll size ‘ya up, let me know what you’re good for.”
“Ohkay.” Rob said as the naga put the head gear and the chest gear, before shoving a mouth guard in the bobcat’s mouth.
“Now don’t hold back. He’s an expert. I trained him myself like I did Rocky. No sucker punches though. We know how well those go. Now get up and in the ring.”
That’s when Rob got to work.
“Hey Coach!” Dan said, greeting him and Rob as they came into the Dragon’s Horde. “What’s… hey, where’s Charlie?”
“Hospital.” Coach said. “This kid here’s got a mean uppercut. It’s so mean it’s damned brutal! Knocked Charlie on his side, twisted his ankle.”
“So what’s Rocky’s real name then?”
“Rob.” The bobcat said. “Officer Robert Thames, PD.”
“Oh hey!” a voice from afar responded. “You’re the cop that keeps responding over at my job.” A three headed, stretched cougar came over and sat next to them. “I’m Red, the designer. I saw what happened today. You doing okay?”
“Yeah, much better.” Rob said. “My supervisor, Sarge, he pointed me to Coach here to vent.”
“Found someone to throw that punch at?” Red purred.
“And a few dummies as well.” Rob said.
“We gotta charge you for destroying one of ‘em.” Coach said. “You’re a damned tasmanian devil on ‘em when you’re worked up!”
“It’s been a long time coming.” Rob replied. “What’s a good brew around here? I’m off duty for the weekend.”
Dan grinned, and said, “Well, I think Couch wouldn’t mind you gaining a few extra pounds in some good places.”
“The way he hamfists opponents?” Coach started. “He’s definitely a Rocky. I’m taking him up myself even if Charlie’s out for a week or so. Only if he looked like a rock, though.”
“Given how many heroics he’s done for the past month,” Red added, “I’d think this guy needs a celebratory Iron Brew!”
By that time Cyren had come out, and leaned down on the bar to size up Rob. He gave him one good long look, before turning his head and saying “Hello Coach. You taking on the Officer?”
“He’s got another three days.” Coach said. “I’ll make sure he’s a good fighter.”
“He’s going to need it.” Cyren said. “Who’s paying for the hero’s drink?”
Red pulled out a credit card. “Here. Settle my tab too.”
“Charge it, Dan. Have Terry cook up the biggest medium rare steak we got. I’ll mix this one.”
The timing couldn’t have been perfect. Sarge had walked in as Rob finished a monster of a steak that was cooked to perfection. Rob has just put on a specialty kilt of Red’s design… when Cyren’s potion hit.
“Ennnngggh…” Rob growled. “All… over…”
“Power through it.” Cyren ordered. “Muscle it into submission, big cat… or are you just a pussy?”
That’s when clothing started to rip. Rob’s legs bulked up first, already big paws growing out and destroying shoes as they tripled in size. His hips widened, accomidating the legs and his thickening torso as his abs grew out and up, stretching into a 12-pack. His chest ballooned and stretched with his shoulders, widening and thickening, ripping his tee. His arms thickened up as well, widening further his body, his hands nearly doubling in size to match. Rob’s neck thickened as well, but with his shoulder and back muscles growing and toning, it looked like his head looked like it was in danger of being swallowed whole.
Rob widened his legs, as his balls and cock grew exponentially, beach balls over his thick legs with a cock easily thicker than a three liter bottle of soda. He raised his hands, forming fists and let out a mighty roar…
…then turned meek, lowered his arms, and mewed in irony.
By that time Sarge was seated in front of Cyren. He turned, and hi-fived Cyren… which Red noticed.
Coach noticed Red as well, and asked “Whatcha thinkin’, Red my boy? Never seen a sabertooth bobcat come back from history?”
One of Red’s heads commented “The teeth need to grow in,” while another said, “More like how much fabric we have on hand at the local store,” and the third adding “I wonder what that lazy bum of a Governor will say…”
A week later, Sarge and Rob came into the Dragon’s Horde. Cyren, manning the bar, said, “HOI! How’s the beat?”
“Crazy!” Rob said as he sat down into a reinforced stool. “The Governor resigned.”
Everyone but Cyren did a “BWUUUHHHH?”, from the intertwined skunk/hound duo of Sam and Joe, to the cerebus hyper-sized felines of Red and Kathy, to Coach and a built hyper-busty amazonian of dragoness.
Cyren slowly pointed to the dragoness said, “Before you go into detail, note that council is present. Everyone, this is Val SmaugLifter, my sister.”
Rob grinned and bowed elegantly. “Charmed, councilor. Officer Robert Thames, city PD.”
“Officer Thames!” Val said. “My my. Please, tell us more. It affects one of my cases.”
“Which one, if I may ask? I think there was a special prosecutor appointed for…”
“The abuse of power investigation. I got appointed as said prosecutor.”
“You found out about the re-allocation of city forces for his security?” Sarge asked.
“And all the budget finagling he did to do it. What the Assembly passed wasn’t what the Governor passed. I was about to file charges, too.”
“I’d still file charges,” Rob said. “I reported to duty after the docs cleared me and I got sent to the Governor’s office. Had to blow a reporter’s mind on why we were getting military-grade Hummers, but they’re the only vehicle I can fit into now.”
“It comes with the territory,” Cyren said, flexing a bit through his three-piece suit.
“Oh that’s not the half of it.” Rob continued. “I go in, ID myself to staff, and double-check the existing security hardware. Half the cameras were off-line for some reason, so I go around, find out they’ve been disconnected, re-connect them, secure them, and recheck them. I’d swear that building was supposed to be ADA compliant. Some of the doorways I could barely squeeze through.
“The kicker is when I met the Governor. Guess what his first reaction was.”
Cyren hmmmsss. Val looks a bit over Rob, and guesses “Wet his pants, backs himself into a corner, bares his claws, and growls.”
“Or tries so.” Rob said. “He does the full dump, backs himself into the corner, tries to bare non-existant claws, and mews for me to go away.”
“Wait,” Sarge followed up. “He’s declawed?”
“Yep. I backed away, did a bit of digging into the records… and why he was elected… Val, have you dug into his criminal background?”
“Not yet,” Val responded, “But if you’re implying…”
“I cannot say,” Rob grinned, “except that it is very interesting, and a reason why he’s on a ‘Do Not Travel’ list.”
“I’ll owe you a beer if it pans out,” Val said. “But let’s not talk about politics too much longer.”
“I’d say.” Rob said. “Red gave me some six fingered gloves that fit, except that I’m five fingered.”
Red mewed “Sorry, it’s what we had on short notice. Most everyone who goes that big also adds a finger.”
Rob looks at Cyren, and asks “We can fix that, can we?”
Cyren grins, saying “Chief, we’re mixologists. Drink engineers. We can fix anything. What’s you’re poison?”
And with another round of drinks, another fur settles down for good cheer at the Dragon’s Horde.