At the foot of a large mountain range, in a wide open field, the bustle of activity and people all over could be heard. Scottio and Lorank approached the Renaissance Faire, the former trying to drag the latter by pulling at his wrist and nearly skipping along. Lorank lumbered slowly forward though. He would not be hurried by the horse holding his hand; especially not one half as tall as himself and much skinnier too. Scottio didn’t seem to notice the futility though, continuing to pull at the enormous bear’s hand, buff and tall as he might be.

Scottio flipped the blond hair out of his eyes and adjusted his glasses to get a better look at the Ren Faire the duo was walking toward. This yearly ritual was something he looked forward to. Discovering new armor or decorative weaponry, taking part in a duel, watching performance artists juggle fire or joust… it fascinated Scottio. All the fun of the Middle Ages with none of the illiteracy or bubonic plague. And this time he wouldn’t be attending alone.

Getting Lorank out into the rest of the world was just an added bonus. The big lug spent way too much time up in the mountains taking care of his home. He was pretty certain Lorank actually enjoyed the peace and quiet, but life wasn’t worth living in just one place. And this Ren Faire only happened once a year so there was absolutely no way he would let his friend miss out.

“You’re gonna love this place Lorank. There’s great food, and things to buy. You look like you could be straight out of the Middle Ages anyway. Could pass yourself off as a Giant cosplayer,” Scottio giggled. The horse twink pulled Lorank along as best he could toward the center of the Ren Faire. They passed fire-eaters and blacksmiths and plenty of other interesting distractions on the way, but Scottio would not be dissuaded from his task. There in the town square was a large chalkboard, a few meters tall and written down the side was a list of events. Not many of them seemed super interesting, but some could distract Lorank enough to get him to stay. Strong man contest, a feast in the castle, jousting competition… Until Scottio found one very interesting panel to attend.

“Oh, a mead taste testing? That sounds like a lot of fun! Come on Lorank, let’s give that a try,” Scottio said, his tail swishing.

Lorank perked up slightly, licking his lips. That certainly did sound pretty nice. Maybe coming away from his home wasn’t a terrible decision this time. He nodded at Scottio and followed, this time walking alongside the horse rather than being “dragged.”

As he followed closely behind, Lorank couldn’t help but notice all the stares he was receiving from people around the fair. He didn’t really understand why they would be staring so much though; to him this was totally normal. But to most people a bear his size didn’t come around every day. It might have been thanks to his size in multiple ways: the enormous bulging package, or his height towering over everyone by at least 4 feet, or the bulky muscles that covered his body and made Hercules look like a sissy. All told he was a half-ton of bear bulk that brought attention to himself no matter where he went. Though it could also have just been because he had some trouble with accidentally knocking into tents and other patrons who just bounced off his beef harmlessly.

Scottio noticed all the staring and sighed. “You just really know how to draw a crowd don’t you, big guy? That’s okay though. Maybe you’ll get a few more cheerleaders at the strong man competition later.” Though he was outwardly dismissive, he didn’t like how some others were looking at Lorank. The bear wasn’t just a piece of meat to be oogled. And if he was, certainly not by any of these other people. Scottio had spent time getting to know Lorank, staying at his house, visiting his forest. He was good friends with the strong, silent bear. And he wasn’t going to let anyone else mess with him.

Besides, with a bear this hot, why would he ever want to share?

The tent for mead tasting wasn’t anything special. It was a covered tent area, no windows and a single door flap for people to walk through. Lorank had to do more of an awkward ducking shuffle through the door though. And standing just inside was an otter asking for their licenses. “21 and over only,” he said.

“Oh, uhh,” Scottio stammered. “I’ve got my license here but the big guy doesn’t have any. We just want to try some mead. He’s big enough to be an adult right?”

The otter glanced up and down the bear’s towering body. He squinted his eyes… and Scottio could’ve sworn that his package bounced slightly. The otter did have an abnormally large package. He half expected him to not let Lorank through but with a grunt he waved the both of them along. Well that was easy; he supposed it stood to reason that anyone as well built and hairy as Lorank had to be of age.

Mead tasting was apparently a very popular event at this fair; even before the bulky bear came in the tent it was standing room only. The stewards serving the mead were rushing from left to right behind the counter and several barrels were in the process of being replaced. Mugs clinked noisily as the white wash of conversation furs drowned out Scottio’s thoughts. He’d been to bars before but nothing quite so loud as this one. He supposed that the sort of person who came to a Ren Faire wasn’t likely to get much socializing time in large groups. And with alcohol in the mix inhibitions were sure to be at an all-time low. Thus, loudness. The horse held onto Lorank’s arm tightly to be sure they didn’t get separated in the sea of people.

Lorank walked forward, gently pushing people out of the way with a hand large enough to cover a person’s back. Conversations died in front of the bear and soon people got the idea that they should move rather than letting the enormous bear do it. There was still plenty of chatter around him, once people saw he had passed peacefully. A few were even daring enough to risk a pinch on the bear’s butt. If Lorank was bothered by it though he sure didn’t let it show.

The bartenders stopped briefly in their tracks as Lorank and Scottio approached the counter. But only briefly. They were straight back to rushing to serve patrons soon after, except for one. An otter reached out to grasp Lorank’s hand, shaking up and down in an enormous handshake. He hadn’t noticed Scottio until the horse coughed to get attention.

“We were hoping to try your mead today. Especially him,” Scottio said, pointing up to Lorank. “He’ll need a lot of mead.”

“Could’ve figured that out on my own, thanks. How about it big guy, fancy a drink?” the otter asked, grinning widely. Lorank nodded and the otter scurried off, returning seconds later with a mug of mead. “You’re not much of a talker are you?”

Scottio came up to the counter, standing between the otter and Lorank. “Nah, he’s the strong silent type. What about me, do I get mead?”

“Sure, it’ll be $5 for a pint or $8 for a mug like his.”

He blinked in confusion. “Wait, this costs money? Why didn’t you say something before giving one to my friend?”

“Oh no, he’s on the house,” the otter replied, tongue stuck out dopily. Scottio huffed but didn’t complain as he dug out his wallet. The fight wasn’t worth it. This otter was just a horn dog and there was no arguing with someone like that, even if it was unfair to ask everyone else to pay. Lorank was already gulping away at his mug anyway. It tasted heavy and sweet on the tongue, satisfying his thirst with only a few drinks. It also only took a few drinks for him to finish the entire mug, setting it back down on the counter as Scottio placed his money on the counter too.

“Wow, that didn’t take you long at all did it?” the mustelid said with a whistle. He grabbed the mug and the cash, returning in seconds with two more of the brew. Lorank was happy with the first one and so he quickly downed the second as well. Scottio was only just starting his by the time Lorank set his mug down again.

A few more iterations of this and by the time Scottio was done with his first, Lorank had already powered through four. The otter’s tail was wagging the entire time, bushy eyebrows lidding his eyes. Scottio didn’t have to be a mind reader to imagine what going through his head. The bulging pants he wore didn’t leave much to the imagination either.

But the mead was good, and the company was nice too, so as they drank they got more and more touchy, laughing heartily as Lorank put a thick arm around the house. Scottio was positively dwarfed by his biceps alone as he was hugged into washboard abs. The horse blushed terrifically, nearly his whole face turning red. If this kept up there was no telling where it could go. And the otter only kept bringing more and more mead. The other customers weren’t getting nearly as much attention anymore.

Once Lorank had put down his tenth glass of the delicious alcoholic brew the otter actually cut him off from any more. Something was bubbling in his belly, but he was starting to get tipsy and didn’t pay any further mind to it. Especially not when the otter started leading him off toward the back of the tent. He instead gently picked up Scottio like a doll and set the equine on his shoulder. Wherever he went, he was sure that his friend would follow.

“Since you’re such a big drinker, figured it was better to just take you to the source now, good lookin’,” the otter said with a sway in his step. There was something oddly… familiar about him. The way he walked, and talked. Cocky, full of himself, more than a little pervy… but it was hard to focus with the alcohol. It was probably nothing.

The horse and his enormous bear pal were taken further and further into the tent, much deeper than they expected it could go. Until finally they made it to a special room. It was secluded, and essentially empty aside from a large set of kegs in the very center. The otter stepped aside to let his customers enter the room. Lorank was more focused on the kegs though, picking up one of them with both hands without a second thought.

“Say, thanks for sharing these with us. Lorank can’t say it but we’re really thank-“ Scottio started as he hopped off his friend’s shoulder. But the otter was already gone. He crossed his arms and huffed. Rude. Even if there were lots of other customers he could’ve at least stuck around to give his name.

The ultra-ursine tapped at the keg, trying to figure out how to get its contents to come out. He’d never seen one of these before, but he did recognize the spigot on the bottom of it. He flicked it open as a test and was rewarded when more golden, delicious liquid poured forth. Jackpot. He grinned half a mile wide and brought it to his mouth. The liquid sprayed into his mouth and his nubby bear tail wagged just slightly in happiness.

Scottio shook his head and sighed. At least there was plenty of mead to share. He tried to find a glass of his own to drink with but the room really was empty. That was strange. Why wouldn’t they have glasses around to taste the mead with? This was probably a storage area, the workers would want to make sure the mead still tasted good before using it. His tail swayed in deep thought, hardly paying attention to his friend now. Or the changes Lorank was going through.

An odd bubbling had begun to stir in Lorank gut as he continued to sip at the keg. It was hardly unpleasant though; if anything, it just tickled and made Lorank want to drink even more. The feeling certainly didn’t outweigh the delicious taste of the alcohol. He idly scratched at his abs with an empty paw, not paying much attention to how his clothes stretched along with the movement. Those clothes always stretched out anyway. This time though it went just a little further than usual. His biceps flexed as his arm moved, thickening and tightening, but when he relaxed they still seemed just as large. In fact, the rest of him was growing to keep pace. A slow and steady march outward in muscle mass. The bear was buffing up as he drank.

He found it increasingly hard to keep his kilt down over his sizable package now. Something about the mix of alcohol, and growth, and all the swirling hormones was starting to chub up his shaft. His inhibitions down, he decided that trying to stay decent wasn’t really going to work anymore. And he had Scottio here as well; that little horse could help out for sure. He set the keg to the ground and fumbled with the scarce clothes he was wearing, finding them just about to snap off anyway. Lorank’s eyebrows raised in surprise. That was odd. And why were his legs so thick now? Then the realization hit him. Soon after, his body continued its growth and the clothes actually DID tear off. The bear was in the buff.

Scottio whipped around when he heard the snap of Lorank’s kilt just fast enough to see it fall to the ground at his feet.

“Lorank, what did you do? I- Oh,” Scottio started, blushing heavily. Lorank had easily put on another two feet of height and was widening twice as fast. The roof of the tent was dangerously close to his head now and the kegs were looking more and more like simple mugs to use. And hanging between his legs was a set of balls that could work more like bean bag chairs for the horse to use, while his shaft was easily body pillow in size. Scottio’s own tented pants were feeling more constrictive by the second.

Lorank smiled and reached down to get another keg, finding it harder to bend over now with all the muscles across his frame rubbing against each other and his shaft poking at his chin. But the bear still managed to pick one up and this time, he tore off the tap to get straight at the liquid. He felt Scottio’s body rubbing against his member when the horse came up to hug it. Scottio was practically worshipping it though, rubbing carefully across the flesh of Lorank’s cock to pleasure as much of it as he could reach.

Scottio had thrown caution to the wind at this point. He was fumbling with his own pants zipper and button; Lorank was already naked, and drunk, so compared to his own nakedness no one would question it. The equine’s package was already nothing to sneeze at, thick and handing down toward his knees while soft, and reaching toward his lightly developed pecs while hard. Whatever was happening to his friend, Scottio was very happy to be dragged along for the ride. Especially since the growth was still going.

Another entire keg dropped down his throat, Lorank’s growth only sped up from there. He was slowly getting taller as his body widened to accommodate his inflating muscles. 12 feet tall and inching taller, it really did feel like he was inflating from the inside out now. His stomach gurgled and bubbled as it slowly pushed outward past his abdominal muscles to start a small gut. The bear smiled and rubbed across his belly carefully, with difficulty as his arms wouldn’t bend very well. More. This required more. He pulled out two kegs this time and one in each hand started to double fist the amazing alcohol.

His body responded by speeding up yet again! 12 feet to 13, then up to 14 as he widened and thickened further than anyone had been before. His pecs and traps threatened to start overtaking his vision as they grew thicker and his arms were totally immobilized now. Lorank’s cock was twice as long as Scottio, but the horse continued to show affection for it, licking in long, rough strokes across the bear’s shaft head. It was hard for him to look down at the horse to tell just what was going on but he did feel his friend stop pleasuring his package. A few awkward moments of trying to find his friend later, and suddenly there was another keg brought up to his mouth. Scottio didn’t think Lorank was done getting larger yet at all. His gut was now easily visible inflating underneath the shelf of bear pectorals.

Once the keg was in place, continuing its stream into Lorank’s mouth, Scottio slid down the bear’s body and returned to his duties of taking care of his long and thick shaft. His balls were obscenely large now, as whatever special brew that otter had cooked up caused havoc on Lorank’s body. But Scottio thought it was the hottest thing ever, and he was very satisfied to spend his time worshipping that pillar of meat. More.

Outside the tent a shadowy otter figure grinned, watching the scene unfold. Lorank was already filling half the tent’s size with his bulk, and at the rate he was going through the alcohol that wasn’t going to remain the case for long. He’d only made sure to give enough to get him to just barely grow past the tent’s confines; he wanted a show but he didn’t want to destroy the entire fair after all.

The cameras in the tent rolled along fairly well too… something to make a souvenir to send to Scottio and Lorank. It was the least he could do after the show he was enjoying.

“What are you looking at Bobert?” a voice from behind asked the otter. The peeking mustelid whipped around quickly to see the shelf of black furred abs belonging to his friend Vincent. The squirrel crossed his arms waiting for an answer.

Bobert just grinned and stuck his tongue out. “Noooothing. Having fun. What’s it to you?”

“Alright you little terror, scoot, what are you-“ Vincent said as he pulled the tent’s fabric aside to look, only to see a bear immobilized by his own muscles and a horse rubbing across his shaft with his whole body, slowly being covered with pre. Vincent dropped the tent door and rolled his eyes. “Of course. I don’t know what I expected to see. Are they gonna be okay?”

“Sure! It’s not permanent. Long lasting maybe, but not permanent.”

Vincent looked at the beer kegs. “Huh. Are those any good?” He was feeling pretty parched and a nice glass of mead or beer sounded pretty good.

Bobert just smiled. “You bet! You should go try some. You won’t regret it.”

The squirrel took a nearby tasting cup and took a long swig. The effect was almost instantaneous. As his body thickened under the now tight shirt, Bobert’s smile widened. Vincent was going to need help with his mead. No reason to let Scottio have all the fun.