Haha what if you were my perfect boyfriend, jk... unless.

Max rocked quietly in his computer chair as the horse told him about his weight problems yet again. It had been a recurring theme of their friendship; "if only I could lose the weight, then I could [x] or [y]". Of course, these goals were often... ambitious, like "fuck my way through the town" or "benchpress a semi truck", and perhaps not entirely serious... but what Char didn't know is that he could have those things. Easily, if he wanted.

The 6'6", slender ferret turned his seat around to face the horse, giving him a look through tired eyes. With a soft smile, he put his hands on the keyboard, typing by touch. "Yeah, man, I hear you. Y'know, I actually had the opposite problem... I just can't eat enough to put the weight on. Still, it's a shame you won't remember that you ever struggled... it'd be nice to get the credit for once."

Max turned his eyes to the computer screen. "The horse sitting in my bedroom, Charles Rich, will no longer be fat. Instead, he will have a herculean frame so that he can pursue his lofty goals." Max shook his head, thought about the statement, and made the correction to reality.

Both of them saw the same thing. The fat on Char's body practically boiling away, changing, swelling into something new. Hard, thick muscle, pecs stretching out the anime t-shirt as the fabric became increasingly distressed. Thighs went from squishy to thick and solid, the powerful limbs more than able to kick down a door.

...that the body type was entirely consistent with what Max liked in a guy was, of course, completely coincidental, and in no way reflective of his desires, right? Still, as the process slowed down, Max remembered... and Char forgot why he had been complaining, his past rewritten. Why was he here in this room, now?

Char's brain took some time to recompile, new sets of memories having to resolve with his presence in his nerd friend's room. Of course he spent a lot of time hanging out here five minutes ago when he was an overambitious tabletop nerd, but now he was... well. Kind of impressive. The specific wording Max went with hadn't just made him bigger, it had made him -driven-. The more muscular Char got, the better at pursuing his goals he got.

And since he had never gotten fat in his life, the more he ate, the more muscular he got.

It was a vicious cycle that resulted in him constantly having to - and being able to - buy new shirts. That had to be why he was here. No way was the... Dragonball Z? T-shirt he had on something he could have bought, hell, no way he could have -put it on- the way it rode up around his pecs.

So Char's brain assembled from context clues. He was wearing a shirt that couldn't be his, and he was listening to a ferret complain about not putting on weight.

He must be helping out an old friend with personal training again. And he'd borrowed said friend's shirt for 'fitspiration'.

"Hey, no problem bro! You'll get there eventually," Char smiled, putting on his best positive voice, before taking off the shirt and sliding it over the ferret.

...It still retained the imprint of horse pecs. And was practically tent sized on the skinny tuberat.

"Now that we've seen how big you're -gonna- get, we can start working on helping you stretch some shirts out on your own."

Max had to adjust to his own realization. That shirt smelled… nice. The ferret wriggled a little as Char manhandled the shirt over his lanky frame, but ultimately let him drape that tent over his body. "I... ugh. I knew you wouldn't remember, nobody does." It was a slightly wild statement to make out of context, for sure. He tilted his head, admiring the now shirtless horse's body, then looked around the room. Ah, yeah... he could see how the posters of muscular guys would probably make Char think he was into fitness.

"I, uh, don't think I'll get as in shape as you did quite as quickly as you did, but that's a very generous offer. Anyway, I think that's my good deed for the day... you were telling me about the encounter design for your latest campaign?" Max offered the horse another weary smile, then his eyes widened. Oh, fuck, he still had the text up on the screen! Maybe he could just carefully... control-a, control-x it out of there before Char saw it and any awkward questions were asked?

"I was? ...Wait, are you writing about me?" Char spotted the prompt, quickly reading it over... only to see that it hadn't really gotten anywhere. It was barely a sentence. "Well... that's an -accurate- description, but you know you're not supposed to lead with describing how the characters look unless it's porn, right?" the horse teased, crooked grin splitting his wide face. He didn't -really- think it was porn his friend was writing... buuut he didn't really mind either. He knew what he was.

"Anyway yeah! Campaign stuff, I figured I could use a second opinion. So, we've got a guest player for this one, one of those big name voice actors I don't really care about but it's good to have on the show, and I -want- to highlight his abilities... but, like, he likes kobolds. And there is no more basic bitch entry level half assed incompetent DM horseshit than BuT wHAt iF kObOLDs gOoD. So I'm torn between making the show good, making the encounter good, or just phoning in the whole thing this time."

On the show? Char's second game wasn't a show, right? This was always the worst part of changing things - he didn't "remember" the new reality. He checked his phone's calendar... wait, where was Char's FIRST game? The one he was in? He searched, and... the last game was three years ago. Oh, no. He had fucked up.

That driven nature was very good for self-actualizing, but it had also meant that he had rather diminished his presence in the horse's life... and it was so hard to find a good tabletop group these days. There was a deep, deep sadness on the ferret's face for a moment, before he offered a nervous grin.

"Well, if I were you... yeah, the tactical kobolds using Vietnamese close-quarter tactics that weren't even invented is a little overdone. Why not make them incompetent but numerous? Give the casters a chance to really throw out the flashy AoE spells, it doesn't matter if the encounter is a little more difficult on paper when those guys are gonna be blasted to pieces and taken off the board."

The ferret's hand circled up to hold onto the horse's thick wrist, padded thumb stroking into his black fur. "...or you could phone it in, skip the prep, and spend some more time with me, instead? Y'know, like the good ol' days? You tell me your woes, we figure out how to fix 'em..." He was half considering trying to fix things with another alteration. It would be pretty unethical to just  make  the horse spend more time with him, right? He wrote the horse's name in the text editor, just in case…

"Well... I'm here now! What did you want to do," Char brushed past the game thoughts and watched his old friend wistfully type his name -and just his name???- onto the screen. It was a little weird, but, at the same time Char did know how he could affect people. He'd never wanted to be the kind of person who just abandons his old friends because he got supposedly "better" ones.

But at the same time he didn't really -need- to commisserate with the other nerds these days. Sure he still -was- a nerd, but he was also a brick shithouse who got up at 5 am to go jogging. He had T-shirts made of his torso with tacky 'DMs are ABOVE the gods' one liners on them! …Not self designed, obviously, but they sold.

"I guess it is a pain I can't be with everybody I care about at once."

Max nodded. It was a surprisingly sweet statement from the horse; probably a feature of his... personal growth. With more people in one's life, it was definitely harder to keep track of them all. Fuck it, it was  genuinely a wholesome wish, he felt, and he did like to reward those kind of thoughts. Most of his changes were pretty small, after all, and tended towards helping people who needed it - surprise windfalls for people struggling with rent, miraculous recoveries from sicknesses or ailments.

The ferret turned, and quickly hammered some text into the editor. "Charles Rich can find time to be with everyone he cares about at once." He stared at the editor, thinking for a moment, then quickly typed in a little more. "Especially Max. Extra time for Max." He thought about it, made the change, and looked over to the horse again... it was a dangerously  vague statement, but he didn't want to lose touch with his friend!

...they were  just  friends, right?

"I mean I guess I could complain about the orgies," Char shrugged -alarmingly- casually for the statement, but judging by how his pecs heaved and shook from the simple gesture, Max could kinda see it.

"It sounded fun when I first started, and it's not like I don't cum, but in retrospect this has been a -lot- more hectic than expected. Getting -everybody- under one roof is a nontrivial challenge, and while I've definitely got charisma, I'm not -literally magic- enough to get an entire town all happy to fuck each other. Plus, practice, confidence, and cock-pumping can only get me so far. I'm not a sex god, just ripped."

It came out like a waterfall, apparently Char's -aggressively- horny mind and the need to get -everybody- he cared about -at the same time- had... unforseen consequences, even for the horse.

"But it's not like I can just cancel them and spend -more- nights quietly plowing your ass at home. Would you believe I've heard people -aspire- to get invited? It'd be way better if I was just... better. Ugh, that's a stupid complaint."

Max was... excessively glad of his dark fur hiding the flush through his body. Plowing his ass at home? Okay, things had changed possibly in a way he hadn't anticipated. He turned to Charles, offering another weak grin. He  was  ripped, after all... "Well, I don't know, maybe you can? I'm sure you can find a way, you're, ah... driven!"

Tap tap tap. "Charles Rich is a sex god. Just better. Can spend more nights quietly plowing my ass at home." Commit.

...wait. Sex god? Oh fuck, no, that was too literal. He should have written "great at sex". Fuck. And "just better"? Way too vague!

Max slowly turned to face Char, watching the chaos begin to unfold with roiling, swelling magic, body stiff as he stared down the horse's swole physique. "Haha... uh... oops. You know, I think I might be able to believe it in a hot second." An  incredibly  hot second. It was a shame Char wasn't going to remember this.

"Fortunately" for Max, his powers were feeling generous today, and chose to interpret his vague statements as related. Charles Rich is a sex god, just better, who can spend more nights plowing my ass at home.

Simple.

Easy to parse.

...Reality was still breaking down slightly as the universe attempted to adjust to the presence of a being that was even better than a god, but Char didn't seem to mind.

His pants -dissolved-, replaced with a perpetual life of nudity, clad only in gems and collars around his cock. Jet black balls plumped so heavy Max felt his room shake, as a cock that was -literally- transcendent emerged from Char's sheathe. It was different for everybody who saw it. Always jet black, always horse, and always just one inch longer than the biggest cock you could possibly take.

...In Max's slightly slutty case, it was well over three feet long.

And -glowing-. Char's entire body was now constantly emitting a soft glow. His jet black mane in particular seemed to have flared out into raw, dazzling white energy. Of course, light was probably the most benign thing he was now filling the room with, warped hyper-pheromones rapidly obliterating every other scent in the room from the overpowering force of exposed balls.

“Oh god, oh fuck, oh shit.” Max thought. This was bad. He felt that wave of pheromones hit him like a truck, and he recoiled so fast that his glasses went askew. He was trembling as those nuts filled the room with their ultra-virile scent, the horse seeming to stand taller than he was (impressive, given his own height) and definitely wider. The sheer potency within those obsidian balls filled both the room and Max's own mind with Char's dominance... and to think, he had been complaining about his weight earlier!

Max began to scoot his chair closer to the horse, but thought better of it, quickly grabbing a tiny notepad and pencil that served to help him when he was out and about. Of course, he  could  technically write his changes with his tongue across the horse's cock, but the ever-useful pad and pencil was a little quicker. He turned to face the horse, still sitting down, and ran his hands across one of the collars around Char's dick.

"Is this for me?" he asked, letting it jingle slightly as he tugged on it. Carefully, he let slender fingers drift across that massive, girthy stallion's rod. "Char, I think I... might have gone a little too far." Something was wrong about the way he said that, he felt. Something in that statement didn't ring true. Was it the intent of the statement? The hesitation?

...the name? He let his fingers circle around Char's flare, softly teasing the horse's dick before moving a hand down to feel those nuts. God, they were dense. Perfect for a big breeding beast. He lifted the horse's dick to his face, gingerly nuzzling into it.

"ALL for you~" Char answered the first question. This version of his cock was tailored to Max specifically. His taste. His size.

Char had a cock for everybody in the world, of course, but this one was Max's, and he intended to spend the whole night sharing it. "And I wouldn't worry about going too far. That's just how limits get pushed."

Char grinned, his cock throbbing, divine heartbeat shaking Max's body through a faceful of dick. "That's how you go even farther next time. But I can be generous. A merciful, kind god for my most -dedicated- worshipper. You can suck it as slow as you want. You can worship it for as long as you need."

"You can wait for me to claim you as long as your body will let you."

Max thought for a moment, opening his jaws and slowly trying to fit that monster inside his mouth. Inch by inch, room-shaking throb by body-pounding pulse, it crept through his jaws and into his throat. He was surprised - further than he imagined, but the size of it was... well, more than impressive. Even more slowly, he withdrew Char's shaft from his mouth, so suffused by those pheromones now that he could hardly string a thought together.

He stood, pushing his body against the stallion's, feeling that massive dick throb with reality-shuddering heartbeats against his whole body. And that was while it was  outside  him. He dipped his face against Char's pecs, giving him a satisfied little grumble, inhaling the horse's scent deeply. This was even better than the t-shirt... which he noted he was still wearing.

"You better claim me now while I can still think straight. Y'know, in case you have any... complaints." Those thoughts were dangerous, yes. He had shifted the notepad to his pocket, but if those shorts got torn off his body he could always write with his tongue, or his finger. They had presumably been fucking for some time now, but Max hadn't seen any of it yet. He half-wondered if this "claiming" talk was something new that he hadn't agreed to yet, or if it was merely standard "conquering" talk? With a nervous, excitable, toothy grin, he let a hand slip down the horse's front to squeeze one of those dense nuts softly.

Char's nuts, Max discovered, did not really squeeze. They glistened, they bobbed, they -throbbed-... but when a mortal tried to squeeze them, they didn't even dent.

...Max swore he could feel a lot of tiny somethings -inside- them pushing -back- against his hand, even.

That didn't mean Char didn't accept the -signal- though. The horse reached out one hand to hold over the ferret's head... flexed his fingers... and Max's clothes just kind of... stopped. It took one moment to strip Max naked. It took barely another to raise him into the air.

It took a -little- more than a third to get all that horsecock down his ass.

Char didn't actually move that much, still lounging on Max's couch like it was a throne, instead he let -power- do the talking, pulling Max down to his limits and letting the ferret's prostate -fold- around his cock as the smaller male's G-spot was crushed from all sides.

It didn't hurt.

It -couldn't- hurt.

More Char was just more pleasure, and the horse sat smug, smiling like he knew that

Max was impossibly hard with that squeeze alone; he knew it was too much, if only by an acceptable margin. He knew next time it would still be too much, because it would be even bigger for him. The ferret arched his back, scrunched his toes, and found that cock inside him was impossible to move. Utterly immovable - he was like a pole dancer who had swallowed the pole, and this pole-rat was sufficiently thin and noodly that the outline of that massive dick pounding away in his insides (without moving, mind you) was visible. The collars at the base of that shaft pressed against his ass, the leash connectors jingling as he squirmed.

Weakly, Max reached out to the side, trying to pull the horse's beefy arm in towards him, to rest that thick forearm against his chest so he could grip at the stallion's fingers and squeeze. He tilted his head back, getting a glimpse of the stallion's smug smirk, and decided that this was pretty good... more than that. He could definitely see being a most dedicated worshipper.

"F-fffuck, you really  are  a sex god."

"Yeah?" Char asked idly. For him it wasn't news. Leaning in to nibble the back of Max's neck, teasing him... undoing one of the seals on his cock and starting to pour pre by the liter. Sex god and cum dump, that's what they were.

Char didn't even have to ask about their relationship, why Max would be the personal toy of the perfect man. It was a logistical necessity.

Anybody -else- Char fucked would transform. An ordinary girl would become an amazon, tall and muscular, but pregnant for the rest of her life. An ordinary man would become a titan, built like five bodybuilders... and still probably pretty dang pregnant. But of course Char had discovered, that for "whatever" reason this little ferret would bounce back from any changes, and could take about a million times the cum it'd take for him to turn somebody immortal without doing much more than moaning and squeaking.

It meant an opportunity for Char to unload without worrying about so many -consequences- for poor, mortal society.

So he didn't usually take very long to cum once he was buried in his pet.

Max, of course, didn't know any of this. He just knew it was a -very- short time before Char's balls were rumbling ominously and the outpouring of pre into his gut started to get thicker.

It was a peculiar arrangement for sure, both of them knowing something the other didn't. Both of them having  power , but both needing the other to use it. Max squeezed Char's forearm tight to his chest, bringing one powerful hand up to his mouth and biting down on a thick finger. It didn't hurt the horse, of course, but he could feel the tension in his body through the stress of his jaw, how every glob of pre inside him made him squirm more and flex his muscles around the horse's spectacular cock.

"Uh huh!" he squeaked, jaws still firmly attached to the horse's finger. He let the horse go, instead reaching both arms around to feel the flare through his body, his feet stroking down powerful calves as he leaned back. "You're a stud-god-beast, man..." he offered through shudders and groans, trying his best to  move  that massive dick inside him and mostly succeeding in stirring his prostate around the immovable length.

It occurred to him he didn't actually know what his role was, any more. These changes could be troublesome, after all. He wouldn't want to fuck things up too badly by saying the wrong thing; his brain was already deep in pheromone jail, of course, but he never could tell with these things. "S-so if you're all that and more, what does that make me?"

"Good question~" Char said. "Hmm, I'd say the obvious answer is that you're my cumdump~ the little -pet- I can go too when the worlds best balls get too heavy even for me to bear. When I just need to UNLOAD without permanently giving the mortals consequences to deal with, well..."

Char came on cue, unloading rope after rope of hot, thick, burning, AMBROSIAL cum into Max's insides, forcing the ferret to -watch- his own flesh stretch across his bedroom and fire into the walls as he stretched in ways a human should not stretch, kept safe by a mix of his own power and the divinity behind him.

Char leaned in, mouth going thin next to Max's round ear as he whispered, "The very very -non- obvious answer is that I'm thankful, and happy to do you a 'favor' anytime~."

Oh, how Max  whined . He squirmed and writhed and wriggled around that rod as he was injected with pure hydraulic power, reality just plain giving up and letting them do what they wanted as his slender fingers gripped tightly into Char's black and white-spotted fur. He could feel the ferret's paws scratching against his calves as his body shuddered, though his claws were not nearly sharp enough to pierce the steely hide.

"Y-yeah... do me a favour, stud..." he whined. Something twigged at his consciousness. What did he mean by the non-obvious answer? Did he know? ...how would he possibly know? God, that cum was  incredible . A texture beyond anything he had ever experienced, a scalding-hot temperature that somehow felt just right... not to mention how it seemed to bubble inside him with godly power.

"Oh  god, fuck me up..." he moaned, tongue lolling as his head tilted to the side, snuggling his ear into the horse's neck.

Char didn’t need to change a thing to do that.