On the Scene with Horny Behemoths (Patreon)

(contains Behemoth TF, hyper muscle growth, hyper breast growth, hyper penis growth, anal, and some very squishy paws)

---

Several team wipes, a hostile exchange of colorful words, and six hours of life wasted. Honestly, this had probably been the best alliance raid yet. This group somehow managed to beat the first two bosses before disbanding in a huff. Of course, a few waited to make off with what little treasure had been found first. Damn random pubs were always novices with more whine than bark.

Someone must have had an excellent reason to drop a meteor on Eorzea. Not the most heroic thought on Desmond's mind, but being yelled at by three white mages to do three different things tended to be annoying. He got yelled at for not flanking, changed position just to be yelled at when that put him in the path of three missiles, got resurrected, and then yelled at again when he promptly died. The way everyone started getting upset, you would have thought they were the ones being crushed under a giant robots foot.

How can it be legal to yell at a Dragoon for doing things wrong? Desmond had a spear. His only job was to stab things, hard and frequently. But nope, the squirrel-fox was too much a team player for his own good. Got to listen to others and then take the blame when things did not work. Coming back to visit friends in this backwater magic land was such a big mistake. He had seen so little of his friends that not one of them was even in the raid group. All this effort had amounted to nothing. After being resurrected six times, his fancy dragon-style armor had been reduced to tatters. No idea how he was going to pay for that when he got out of here.

"Look! One's still here!"

"Die, Eorzian scum!"

Oh right, Desmond was so busy fuming about the raiding party ditching out that he forgot he was still in the middle of a Garlien base. Gunfire and magitek lasers rained down as he proceeded to run his enormous fluffy tail into some cover. Luckily those lazy adventurers had carved a clear path through the heart of the base. There was little opposition to worry about in a hasty retreat. Desmond rounded a watchtower to find relative concealment in a cluster of storage shacks. But not before one lucky blast shaved off the pauldrons on his right shoulder.

Sounds of yelling and the clank of machines started up from behind the last stage of fortifications. Cursing softly, Desmond limped further back behind his only hiding structures. Seeing a sudden lack of adventurers laying siege to their best mechs must have inspired a second wind in the imperials. They had managed to regroup and take back their base in record time.

If Desmond were lucky, he'd be sent back to Gridania in three pieces. The option to teleport out was long past with so many soldiers marching into the area on high alert. Hiding to wait out another raiding party was not a great sounding prospect either. Giving the incredibly fickle nature of adventurers that could be anywhere from hours to a week. Getting out of dodge through the thinnest path of enemies before everything was locked down again was his only hope.

In that regard, lady luck decided to make a sharp turn in Desmond's favor. Almost hidden between two of the bigger structures was an exit with its blast doors left wide open. With no signs of activity on the other side and a whole lot approaching his rear fast, it seemed the sanest of options left.

SCHNK!

Having the door slam shut behind him left Desmond a little less optimistic about his escape. Still, he was planning to close the door anyway. It could have been designed to do that on its own.

Sadly it was not escape that the wayward squirrel-fox found. He looked around at what was some kind of constructed metal tunnel leading into a deeper section of the base. Through the cracks of intertwined steel beams could be seen a pyramid structure at the end. The only plus side was that sounds of shouting got fainter as Desmond walked towards it. Hearing the hollow echo of his footsteps had never been such a relief. Maybe there was some kind of medical aids or unattended mechs to hijack.

A blast door opened with a sharp hiss upon Desmond's reaching the end. Spear raised at the ready as he entered despite the weapon being more broken than his armor. From all around him came a humming sound rapidly rising in intensity. Lights turned on along the walls as the structure powered up in response to his presence.

This was definitely not a place for soldiers or staff, in general, to hang around. As Desmond continued onward for a place to lay low, he found himself ascending a ramp towards a platform that hovered over most of the pyramid's center. Underneath him, the floor had been dug deep into a labyrinth of storage containers with attached control consoles. Most had their tops removed to reveal pool-sized collections of some bubbling green muck. Something about its composition made it give off a soft green glow which instantly made Desmond not want to get near them.

There were not even rails anywhere along with the platform. This was an accident waiting to happen. Desmond could not help ponder if Garlien's have a sense of employee healthcare as he looked for a stairway down or any viable exit.

Neither of those seemed to exist either. How did anyone accomplish...whatever it is they did in here? There was some kind of clue literally drawn onto the platform Desmond could make out as he approached. A circle full of glyphs and symbols surrounded the outer rim with a bunch more symbols marked at the center. The squirrel-fox was not the most educated Dragoon, he had sunk all his skills into cloth weaving, but he fought enough primals to know a summoning circle. Given its size and surrounding supply of magic-infused mess underneath, it was probably designed for something big too.

More importantly, there was light coming out a doorway on the platform's opposite side. All the more reason to get out of here without touching a thing.

"Ah fuck," Desmond said under his breath. Attempts to shimmy around the edge promptly failed when his boot made contact with a glyph. Why did dragoon armor have to be designed with so many long pointy bits?

Humming from the machines rose into a roar that deafened Desmond's pointed fox ears. Before he could react every last marking on the platform erupted in a pillar of green energy. It reached into the sharp point of the pyramid's top, cracking open a circle of black void that served as a portal to another plane of existence.

Desmond considered a run for the door, but that meant going across the active ring of evil magitek junk. He almost managed to steel his flight instincts when something else caused his ears to perk. There was another noise coming over the machines, growing louder at an alarming rate. It only became recognized as a panicked scream just before something cream-colored and enormous fell through the newly created portal.

"AH, FUCK!" Desmond said with his own cause for panic.

The monster slammed onto the center runes with a clumsy splat. Clearly, it had not expected a summoning any more than Desmond. Its form was ungodly muscular, bulging over twenty times bigger than an average person. That made it unfortunately heavy, with its violent landing rocking the platform about on the few straining supports it had.

Desmond waved his arms desperately trying to keep balance on the wobbling edge. The broken spear went flying from his hands, and two seconds later, he tettered over to join it.

SPLURCH!

Of course, he just happened to fall in one of the open vats. Nature was too cruel to let him hit a steel roof and die from a concussion. Nine times out of ten when an adventurer gets submerged in mysterious glowing material of possible magic, they tend to die from a horrific tumor or something. Not to mention something the viscosity of honey is a total pain to wash out of fur.

Swimming through the muck was no easy task either. A few hard kicks got Desmond nowhere fast. Being disoriented by a glowing ooze made it hard to tell which way he was swimming if motion was possible at all.

"Blorp?"

SCHLUUP!

Looked like drowning was not on the agenda today. Someone had seized hold of Desmond's tail and used it as a means to pluck him from sludgy doom. Copious amounts of it drizzled off his head and shoulders while the entity continued to hoist him upside-down by his fluffy fifth appendage.

An entity with lots of sharp teeth and pointy horns to its smile.

"Hi! You okay there?"

Desmond would have screamed if he had not choked on some of the green stuff trying to take deep breaths. This beast was even bulkier than her entrance made her look. At least Desmond assumed it was a female with the enormous white-furred breasts blanketing her chest, and most of her stomach. All four limbs puffed with thick clusters of raw muscles under a soft pelt of brown fur and white undersides. One of its paw-like hands was enough to hold Desmond several feet off the ground. Its other hand was gently brushing it's foot-long claws across Desmond's armor trying to help clean it of mysterious goo.

"P-please," Desmond said, coughing gunk out of his throat. Being exposed to fresh air was drying this garbage out quick. It was making his skin burn and fur brittle. "Please don't kill me, miss behemoth."

"Uh…what?" The creature said, cracking a confused grin. A hard rapid thumping drew Desmond's attention to its tail, thick as a tree log, wagging rapidly against the platform. The entire creatures back from the tip to her shoulders was covered in many boney spikes the size of daggers. Her only article of clothing was a shaggy loin cloth across well-chiseled hips. "I'm not going to eat you silly. And I'm not a behemoth either, I'm a deathclaw. Call me, Marco."

"Oh? I'm Desmond." Desmond tried to shake his eyes clear, looking over Marco's monstrous build again. So much blood rushing to his brain was made it hard to stay focused. "To be fair...you both have a tendency to be very horny."

Marco blinked, her free hand reaching up to quizzically touch a bull-like horn. Suddenly her eyes lit up with a burst of roaring laughter that echoed through the chamber. "I doubt you've ever seen a deathclaw, but it's hard to argue against that. So, can you tell me where I am?"

"My best guess? You fell through a portal this place created into Eorzea," Desmond said as he was gently lowered back onto the platform. He had to remain on hands and knees for a bit trying not to vomit his pre-raid omelet. "More spe...ugh...specifically we're in a bad guy base surrounded by people that want to kill me after the party ditched me."

"Oh, well, that makes sense."

Desmond glanced up at Marco, who seemed more curious about the glowing platform circle. Not often someone accepts an explanation at face value, but a welcome relief. Cramps were spilling out along the squirrel-foxes sides and his skin burned under his broken armor. Trying to go into more detail took hours of focused exposition he could not muster.

Besides, this creature was friendly enough. Whatever a deathclaw was, it looked capable of ripping mechs apart with those insane talons. Desmond loved his improved odds of survival, except for the hard clenching his organs were doing. Goddess, he really hoped those were not tumors. 

"You sure you're okay?"

"Oh...urp...of course," Desmond lied, hoisting himself onto his feet. Every movement grew stiff and awkward. The armor clamped tight against his limbs, restricting their joints. With a lot of straining, he managed to jut a finger towards the door he had spotted earlier. "The...the only exit I can see is...oooh...down there, but it's locked. Y-you may haa-aah-have to use all that bulk you're carrying too...too...aah...AAHH-HAAA!?"

The hand Desmond had been using for directions began trembling violently beyond his control. Even grasping at it with his other hand could do little to dislodge it's stiff raised position. He left out a strained gasp as tension ran through his arm, causing it to pulse. Gaps rhythmically formed between armor plates straining their binds.

"Is that supposed to happen?" Marco asked while leaning over Desmond for a closer look. Her new friend had at least managed to form a fist with their throbbing arm, but now the strain of Desmond's gauntlets was growing louder. "I remember my body doing that after falling into a vat of FEV. Granted, changing into a deathclaw was a surprise."

"Wait, WHAT!?"

CRRSH! FWOOM!

Control was wrenched away from Desmond again as a final powerful pulse forced his hand to open wide. With a loud crack, his dragon-style gauntlet shattered into useless scraps making way for fingers tipped with slick black claws. Each digit exploded several times thicker, losing some of their dexterity to dense muscles. Rough pads formed under their ends, with an especially big one covering his enormously swollen palm.

The rest of Desmond's arm quickly followed. Loud snaps of leather straps punctuated his strained groans as his armor clanged to the floor one plate at a time. Bulging flesh erupted forth into the open, decorated in a much shagger coat of purple fur than his usual blue. Everything became longer and thicker, more on par with the monstrous Marco's muscular bulk. So much so that Desmond almost fell over from the sheer weight of his arms power.

"Hnnngggh!" That problem did not persist too long. Desmond's horrified gaze whipped to his other hand watching it involuntarily make a fist. It quickly went through the same process erupting out of armor as the disproportionately muscular arm of some giant beast. Their insane reach left a lot flopped uselessly on the ground. A gorilla style appearance Desmond heard Marco giggle over.

That was not so bothersome. Something Marco had said reminded Desmond of a bigger problem. Sure the majority of the time drastic magic exposure lead to death. The other ten percent tended to result in a horrific transformation. Today was just full of good luck.

"Hrrgghh!!" Desmond's shoulders bubbled over into a broad spread, popping off protective pauldrons in a way that made his beefy arms easier to lift. Saliva seeped from his hanging muzzle as he hunched forward. The center of his back rose up into a big hump; developing mammoth bones to accommodate the increasing fibers that smoothed his form into a deep muscular state.

KRNCH!!

Another surge saw the back of his armor shatter. Purple fur moved to darken the blue of Desmond's exposed areas. Everything it coated rippled and inflated with muscle mass beyond a mortals comprehension. The rapid strain of his changes left Desmond doing all he could just to remain standing. Drool pooled on the floor beneath him between dry heaves. He almost did not notice when his hair began slinking out from under his helmet. Black locks brightened into a golden blond as they grew to drape over his eyes. Even more sprouted down along his enlarged spine, creating a thick mane that flowed all the way to his tail tip.

"Aah!" Desmond jerked forward grabbing at his breastplate with one meaty hand-paw. Marco blinked just as confused as they both stared at his chest. Another jerk saw the metal bulge outward as if punched from underneath with enough force to open several cracks. "GYAAAH!"

BWOOMP!

Another punch finished Desmond's remaining upper armor, but neither had expected the smooth pair of purple furred tits that fell out in its place. They rolled off his muscular pecs with a weight that sent Desmond falling face-first into his own cleavage. Even for his transformed purple muscles, they were enormous; easily the size of two war chocobos and possibly surpassing Marco's own boulders.

"Is...is this supposed to happen?" Desmond asked, gingerly poking the soft boobs with his sausage fingers. Before he could explore further a sharp pain in his skull caused him to wince. The fancy dragoon helmet he took such joy in slipped from his scalp thanks to a pair of mighty black horns settling in its place.

"I dunno, but…" Marco gently clicked her claws along the hard material of Desmond's new horns. "This is kinda hot. Do all behemoths get so big and horny too?"

Desmond groaned from a mix of pain and cringe. He really wanted to just brush the strange monster away with some witty retort. That was just hard to do when one's face was involuntarily wincing and gawping. With a loud crunch, the bridge of Desmond's nose jutted out several more inches. Nostrils flared as his nose stretched wider. Growls began to overtake groans, becoming more bestial if a bit sloppy with his tongue flopping over his chin.

"Huff? Gwah? Bwah!"

Marco lost it watching Desmond shake his head awkwardly about. The changing Squirrel-fox's ridiculously huge nose was amusing enough without their constant attempts to close his smaller mouth. No amount of gabbing could get it around the thick drooling tongue. At least until a loud crunch and harsh roar extended his jawline to be in better sync with a blunt monster's snout.

"That was...grrr...unpleasant…" Desmond huffed, smacking thicker black lips several times. In those moments, Marco could see some impressively huge fangs. "If you're done snickering at...mmrrggh...m-my expansion I GRWAARR!!"

Hard convulsions brought Desmond down on all fours. His massive boobs squished into the ground, jiggling with each violent shake. Fluffy squirrel tail lashed through the air, rapidly shedding the blue fur that composed said fluff for a denser layer of thin purple hairs. Armor exploded off his rear as his fifth limb grew twice as long and three times as thick. Marco could not help shuffling to the side to admire the log of muscle slamming against the platform, adjusting to its explosion of alien nerves and tissue. The tip swept off some of the painted symbols with the large tuft of yellow hairs sprouting from it.

CRUNCH! CRACK! BWARGH!

The rest of Desmond's backside followed, making Marco blush. Watching those hips snap several feet wide while butt cheeks billowed out with blazing muscles brought a slight rise to the deathclaws loincloth. One of his clawed hands tentatively reached out to touch the budding behemoth backside, only to get accidentally swatted by Desmond's tail.

"Rrrr...gah...Graaah...rrrRRRRAAAOR!" Desmond arched his back, driving his tits into the metal flooring to unleash a deafening roar at the ceiling. What remained of his metal boots shattered from the overwhelming meat that thickened out his legs. A second later a clenching feeling in his feet forced his heels into a high arch before toes inflated into paws big enough to crush wagons.

Desmond needed huge paws to support all the bulging muscles and fats blimping out his changed body. Unfortunately, he stood too fast and nearly fell over from an unexpected wave of vertigo. It was hard to tell with black furry breasts blocking his view down, but a glance to Marco made it clear he had expanded considerably taller. The deathclaw was at least ten feet tall and still had to look up to meet Desmond's gaze.

Marco could easily forgive something being a few feet bigger than her. Just getting to watch that fat, plump backside rise into a looming wall of back muscles elicited many exciting thoughts. Most of which resonated back into her groin, causing a rapid tension under her loincloth. And yet things only got better when Desmond turned on thunderous paw-steps to face her.

FLOP!

"Wha…oh?"

Something heavy smacked between Desmond's legs swaying with his motion. It took pulling his boobs apart to get a peek through their cleavage, but he managed to catch sight of the culprit; a penis hung so low it's bulbous head reached his knees. The slick hairless ball sack with it dangled even lower, nearly as rounded as his breasts and making him grateful for the wider stance his hips enforced.

"Jesus, Ifrit, and Shiva! Do behemoths actually breed with these canons?" Desmond looked to Marco and caught sight of the deathclaws boner. A few hard sniffs noticed an alluring scent that made his irises expand to envelope his eyes. "Oh my, looks like I'm not the only one curious about that."

"Wait, why-oh gosh!" Marco looked down and jumped. Her own tits jiggled about in a desperate struggle to cover her rod with the loincloth. An impossible task given how long she got when fully hard. She looked back up to apologize to Desmond only to find her nose scrunching up against the behemoths. "W-what are you-HEY!?"

A soft growl became Desmond's response as he yanked the cloth from Marco's waist. He continued pressing in his weight against the deathclaw, their moon breasts pressed hard against each other. One thick paw-hand gently ran its pads over the many fleshy barbs of her member.

It was too much for Marco's already flustered state to even mount a counter push. Her thick body toppled back from her fellow monsters advance, giving off a meek roar. She did not get far before Desmond's other bulging arm shot around to catch a paw between her shoulders. A lusty smile bared the behemoths fangs while he slowly lowered his catch across the platform. His other hand never ceased it's gentle caresses over Marco's penis head, enjoying the way it made her hips twitch.

The move had rendered Marco so smitten one could have seen the love hearts radiating off her blushing face. Clawed fingers gripped carefully, but firmly onto the behemoth's boulder biceps. It had been a long time since the deathclaw had gotten her freak living in a wasteland world. What little reason she had to deny some pleasure quickly faded with the involuntary pulsing of her member.

"Are...are you sure we should be doing this h-" Marco said only to be beeped on the nose by a plush finger pad.

"Sssshhh!" Desmond cooed. He leaned in, running his paw up the deathclaws face and through her luxurious black hair. Planting a small kiss on Marco's lips, he said, "Sorry, but I'm a bit too horny from the transformation to care anymore. Besides, I doubt they got any kind of equipment here meant to deal with us. They'll just get fucked in so many different ways."

Marco bit her lip as she smiled. "Oh, I like it when you talk dirty."

With a chuckle, Desmond leaned to deliver another kiss. Marco's snout lifted eagerly to meet his, clawed hands racking through the behemoths soft breast fur. She got a bit concerned when his paw left her member just as the need for release formed at its base. Desmond needed the space to straddle her hips, blanketing thighs with his massive sac. Gentle hip rocking got her squirming even harder again as the motions rubbed their thick shafts together. Turned out they were evenly matched when it came to phallic tool sizes. It was not long before both became drenched in a cocktail of pre.

The tension had just returned deep behind Marco's shaft when Desmond pulled away once again. He seemed to try compensating this by suckling on her puffy pink nipples, but she still gave a growl of annoyance with such teasings. That is until she felt the head of his shaft push under her own ample balls until they hit a very sensitive hole underneath.

"Aah aah! H-hey, d-don't...No, don't NNNGGGHHH!!" Marco clenched hard onto Desmond's arms. Behemoths must have been made of thick skin to resist her claws, but she was more concerned about the even thicker rod spreading her pucker. "Slower! Slower! I'm not...not used to...aagh! Grrrwwwrr!"

"Oh, I can tell, Marco. You are very tight." Desmond moaned into the deathclaws cleavage. The tight ring of muscle clenched wonderfully on his rod as it slid between Marco's ass cheeks. Being lubed up with an ample amount of pre was a good move. Almost the entire length of his black cock got inside before hitting a wall.

The busty monsters remained stiffly locked together heaving for breath, waiting for Marco's tender anus to adjust to such a wide girth. That did not stop Desmond from gently kneading along the curve of the deathclaws bust, circling in to tug on her nipples with each pass. Marco reciprocated by hugging around his waist to comb the fur along Desmond's fluffy backside. Their fat tails becoming intertwined. Hungry grunts and growls of wild beasts echoed around the chamber.

Slowly Desmond rocked his hips back, withdrawing some of his dick from Marco before rolling it forward again into her butt. That got a sharp gasp, followed by a roar from the fluffy deathclaw. Marco rolled her head back until her horns scratched at the metal floor, tongue flopping out in a goofy expression of bliss. She felt the member stretching her insides repeat the motion with increasing frequency, but she barely survived the first few humps. All that girth crushed her prostate flat and soon her own shaft tightened and throbbed in several hard contractions.

"Grwa!" Desmond winced, dodging a stream of hot cum shot at his eyes. Several more strands erupted from Marco's cock to decorate his black breasts in glossy patterns. It did nothing to stop his humpings, rather encouraged him to go for broke. The deathclaws taut stomach even bulged with how deep his member reached within Marco. "BRAAAAAAAGH!"

The climax was soon achieved, giving Marco a smaller second one in the process. They both opened jaws full of razor teeth in a unified howl of orgasmic heights. Desmond's chest and snout got a second coat of deathclaw egg batter, barely feeling it with the overwhelming torrent rushing through his balls.

BLOOORT!!

"Whoa!" Desmond blinked, gasping with the rhythmic clenching of his glutes. It was not a spurt, but a geyser of cum that exploded out of his member. One that Marco greedily accepted as she rubbed at her stomach. The entire midsection bloated up faster than a balloon on a faucet, giving her a tight round bulge to rival their boobs. "Ooooohhh, goddess! That...huff...um...s-sorry about that?"

Marco smiled while rubbing her distended stomach with both hands. "Are you kidding? This is fucking awesome! I've never felt so freakin full...hey, don't you dare try to make me a bed!"

Typical for an inexperienced man; Desmond's stance buckled immediately after blowing his load. Marco managed to jab at his left tit before the mountain of behemoth toppled on top of her. That jump-started Desmond's senses enough to ease his softening cock from her ass. The head emerging with a wet pop, opening a gush of his deposited spunk before Marco's pucker could ease shut again.

"Sorry," Desmond said again as he laid on his stomach beside Marco. Breasts smooshed up against his chin scruff, making for a surprisingly comfortable pillow. One hand absently rubbed along the crest of the deathclaws belly, enjoying its squishy nature. "You...uh, going to be alright like this?"

"Mmm, fantastic! Thanks!" Marco purred while resting a hand on the behemoths paw. Eyes blinked slightly out of sync as she fought the urge to cuddle up and sleep against her busty hunk of a friend. "I'm going to get pretty damn huge when the eggs start developing. We should probably find a way out soon."

Desmonds pointed ears perked. "Deathclaws lay eggs? You look pretty mammal from here."

"Oh bunches of them, yes. I don't get it either, something to do with being a part lizard. More importantly, any ideas what we do next?"

"Mmph!" Desmond's snout wrinkled in a huff. Thinking was not something his sexually exhausted mind was in the mood to do right now. "Assuming our jizz hasn't washed everything away, we could try activating that portal to send you back. Otherwise, we can catch our breaths and try busting out the front gates pretending to be a couple of insane rampaging monsters."

"...you mean we're not?"

"Heh." Desmond leaned in, rubbing snoots with a giddy Marco. "I'm not exactly leveled to be a strategist, but we could always try…"

BANG!

Sharp yelps were had as Marco and Desmond were startled into sitting upright. The doors at the entrance ramp had slammed open, allowing an entourage of six adventurers to barge in like they owned the place. Considering the wailing sirens and screams filtering in, any Garlien occupants were probably not able, or alive, to argue with them.

"I told you I heard a bunch of roaring in here."

"Holy Leviathans! What the fuck are those?"

"Is that a behemoth?"

"What is up with those tits?"

The monsters looked at the group still suffering slight drowsiness. They glanced at each other and then back to the little heroes. Desmond could tell they were trying to quickly assess their situation; whether they had the right level and gear to fight two massive beasts at once. They were particularly wary of Marco, which was understandable since Desmond only learned of deathclaws an hour ago. Right after the big lug had pushed him into the vats.

"Ooooh!" Desmond's eyes blinked, getting progressively wider. Leaning in with a toothy grin, he whispered to Marco. "Better idea; let's see what happens to these dingbats when we toss them into some green goop."

"Sexy!" Marco agreed with her own approving growl. They both stood in unison, knuckles and necks cracking to loosen up. "I'll take the three in the back."