#cute chubby cow ephraim being a needy boy to a loving & adoring lyon???

[chubbyheroesworthyheroes]

I don't know if you're still doing these, but if you are: 🐮Ephraim, transformation courtesy of Lyon? Pretty please?

It wasn’t unusual for Lyon to ask for the Renais twins help with something. They’d all been friends since they were quite young, and though neither of them were as well versed in the sciences and magics that Lyon was, they would offer whatever assistance they could give their friend. As it so happened, Eirika was away – off visiting Tana – so when Lyon came asking for help with an experiment, Ephraim was the only one available to head over to Grado. 

Ephraim wasn’t any good with magic, and science was similarly not a strong point of his. However, when given the general gist of whatever his friend was attempting to accomplish, he was always eager to give his opinion and help out – often by gathering ingredients and other things that Lyon needed.

When arriving, Ephraim was quick to ask what this new focus was – Lyon explaining in his soft manner about how he wanted to help the farmlands of Grado. The year had been particularly dry so far, and as such, some areas were struggling to maintain their livestock. Less food to go around meant that cattle were taking longer and were more expensive to raise, and dairy cows weren’t producing as much milk either. He didn’t want any of his people to suffer on account of the bad rash of weather, so Lyon was devising a spell that he could use to infuse the livestock with heartier stature. If they could just put on weight easier with less food, it would go a long way to helping the Grado farmlands. 

“So, this will make it easier to raise cows?” Ephraim asks, looking intently at the tome Lyon was skimming through.

“More or less…I haven’t tried something like this before, so it’s going to be a bit of trial and error. I’m hoping to get through it all quickly, however…People are really starting to feel the pinch,” Lyon spoke, excitement and worry mingling in his voice as he flips through aged pages. “You have the pitcher of milk ready?”

Grinning, Ephraim hefts up the jug, the cool liquid sloshing inside as he does so. “Right here!”

Taking a steadying breath, Lyon nods. “Okay…here we go.”

Index finger hovering underneath the text, the Grado prince begins to speak the incantation written within the tome, his other hand outstretched toward the pitcher that Ephraim was holding. Magical energy builds up in his outstretched palm, a familiar tingle, and a soft, lavender light beams from the built up magic out toward the pitcher of milk. Ephraim has to squint his eyes a bit against the light, watching curiously as the milk within the pitcher seems to sparkle and shimmer, before it suddenly vanishes.

“Uh…huh?”

The two young men blink, baffled at what had just happened. 

“Was that…supposed to evaporate into nothing?” Ephraim laughs, holding the now empty pitcher upside down in good natured amusement.

Lyon shakes his head, humming softly in confusion as he brings his attention back to the text in the book. “I don’t understand…It was supposed to bolster the milk – which, when given to the cows, would make the healthier and sturdier. It wasn’t a teleportation spell…” Now focused on puzzling out what went wrong – had he misspoken a line of the enchantment? – Lyon is oblivious to the speedy changes that are starting to effect his friend.

“Well, we can always try again, right?” Ephraim encourages, setting the pitcher down and shrugging. He feels a little funny all of a sudden, a strange tingle along his skin that immediately puts him in mind of the way the spell had caused the milk to sparkle. A faint sense of worry of struck him at the thought, wondering if he should have been so close when Lyon used the spell. Of course, this worry is punted to the back of his brain when he starts to feel flushed and feverish, the tingle in his skin only seeming to sink in deeper to permeate the entirety of his body.

He shifts his weight from foot to foot, face red as he feels his chest buzz with that odd tingling sensation, trying to ignore it for a moment, but the feeling only increasing as the seconds tick by. With Lyon buried in his tome, muttering to himself, Ephraim seizes the chance to – with some embarrassment, mind you – paw at his chest, stifling a moan when his hand presses against his almost painfully stiff nipples. He’s glad that he’d not donned his armor, as it would have been hellish to deal with this tingling feeling and not be able to touch where it was. However, on the flip side of that boon, it was easier to tell that something wasn’t quite right.

Fingers pressed against his nipple, Ephraim bit down on a gasp when he felt his chest…well, grow. Turning around quickly, just in case his friend decided to get his nose out of that old book, Ephraim brought both hands up to cup at his chest, flabbergasted when he felt his pecs swell out against his palms. He whimpered at the way his already form fitting shirt chafed against his hard nipples as his chest puffed out – toned pecs blooming into perky man boobs. 

A quick look over his shoulder reassures him that Lyon is still lost in his own world, trying to puzzle everything out about what went wrong.

Maybe it would stop – maybe it wouldn’t be too noticeable?

Those optimistic thoughts are quickly squashed when Ephraim feels the tingle increase in other areas of his body, too. His abdomen goes uncomfortably warm, and it doesn’t take long for him to see it begin to bulk up against his shirt just the same as his chest had. His lean and well maintained abs bloat out into a hard, round gut, straining his shirt so terribly that it gives up without much fight at all, hitching up to rest under his breasts; his newly formed belly is now fully on display, and the tightness of his shirt against his now plush chest makes it embarrassingly easy to see his nipples under the material. His thighs and ass are quick to follow the rest of him, plumping up to fill out his pants and then begin to strain them – they hold up better than his shirt, for the moment, at least.

Ephraim squirms and groans, slapping a hand to his mouth just a little too late, whipping his head around to look over his shoulder again. Lyon is still engrossed with his book, taking a moment only to murmur something that could have been, “Ephraim, please, I’ve almost figured it out.”

Breathing a short sigh of relief, Ephraim’s attention is brought back to his bloating body. The bigger he gets, the worse it seems to become – his weight increasing faster and faster. He feels so heavy and so warm, it’s getting difficult to stay standing. Glancing around for a moment, fingers idly playing with his enlarged tits, Ephraim spots a chair set up near the long table he’d put the pitcher down on and makes a waddling beeline towards it. He plops down onto it weightily, breasts and belly jiggling with the movement, a grunt escaping him as he settles into the chair. It creaks as he adjusts himself on it, the Renais royal resting his hands on his stomach as he tries to catch his breath.

Ugh, why did this feel so weirdly good to him? He should be utterly appalled, watching himself blow up like a pig, but he’s never felt more aroused than right now. It was getting harder and harder to keep his mouth shut, keep his hands from exploring and groping his expanding form. He was so damn hot! It was getting unbearable! Weight climbing higher, chair complaining underneath him as it bore the brunt of his fat backside, Ephraim shuddered as he felt his thighs grow fat enough to split his pants’ seams down the legs, varying sizes of holes springing up and oozing chubby flesh. The sleeves of his shirt weren’t faring any better, struggling to contain the fleshy rolls of his arms until they simply couldn’t stretch any further, rips tearing free and easing up some of the stress on his fat arms. 

He muffled a groan with his hand, round cheeks scarlet as he felt his ass begin to overtake the chair, bulbous cheeks and thighs flowing over the sides of the seat. Of course, this wasn’t helped any by the fact that his expanding gut was getting so large and cumbersome that it was forcing his blubbery legs apart. Thick love handles protruded from his sides, creating a crease as they fought for space with his ballooning stomach. Ephraim felt so amazingly bloated, his fattening belly lacking the rolls he had seen on some of the older, fat nobles of the court, but making up for it in sheer, weighty roundness. His belly was no longer hard, as it had been at the beginning; the fat having turned soft and squishy as it became more abundant on his frame. His breasts were so large and heavy, they now rested atop the curve of his gut, even spilling over the sides and forcing his fat arms to hang awkwardly at his sides.

A sudden cracking sound rent the air, and all Ephraim had time to do was yelp as his round body came crashing down to the floor. His fat body wobbles furiously as he lands hard on his plush ass, the force of it all finally causing his horribly tight shirt to split right down the middle, his soft moobs bouncing out free – the sudden movement causing something to leak from his puffy nipples. Ephraim can’t take it anymore, a loud, moaning moo bellowing out from his mouth as he lays there on his back. 

All this racket finally breaks Lyon away from his tome, a surprised squeak escaping his lips as he clutches the book to his chest, eyes wide as he takes in the enormously fattened form of his friend. “…E…Ephraim?”

The Renais prince, however, is too far gone now to even hear his friend. He’s so enraptured with his own body, with the way he continues to get bigger, and how damned fucking hot it all makes him, that he can do little more than grope at his fat belly and lactating teats and moan. He can feel how hard he is, but his erection is fully outside of the reach of his sausage-like fingers, buried under the incredible weight of his gut, the weeping tip of it pressing and throbbing uselessly into his own softness. Instead, fat fingers are tugging jerkily at his tits, prompting generous rivulets of milk to erupt from the engorged nipples as he moans and moos wildly.

Lyon is bewildered – first of all, at how this all happened so quickly without him noticing, and second…at how he finds himself reacting to this transformation of his close friend. It had always been Ephraim to protect him, look after him, and something in his chest fluttered at being able to take care of the other young man for a change. It was obvious that Ephraim wouldn’t be able to move from Lyon’s chambers here, he could barely do much more than use his arms stuntedly and shimmy back and forth in a movement that was easy to guess at – he was too massive and fat to get at his own dick, so Ephraim was trying to create as much delicious friction for himself as possible. 

Still a bit shy, at first, Lyon sets his book down and approaches Ephraim in halting steps. He sees cute, nubby little horns pop up out of his friend’s teal hair, and swears he’s starting to see faint spots like that of a cow’s coming in on the other’s skin. Milk is dribbling down Ephraim’s chest, full and overflowing, like two small, white waterfalls trickling down the crest of his globular belly; some of the liquid getting caught in his cavernous belly button as it makes its descent. Getting closer now, close enough to reach out a nervous but excited hand to his friend’s heaving gut – heavens above, he can even feel the way he’s expanding, getting fatter and fatter as he lays there – Lyon can see the silvery sheen of stretch marks all over Ephraim’s soft body. They’re almost pearlescent, and Lyon can’t help but find them beautiful as he traces slim, pianist fingers along their growing paths. 

And to his eyes, they are like paths – a map of stars to the wondrous, ever expanding galaxy that was his best friend.

Ephraim is lowing at him desperately, eyes far away and feverish, begging to be touched…to be loved and cared for, and worshiped.

“…Oh, Ephraim…You will take care of my people in their time of need, and I…? I will take care of you,” Lyon whispers reverently, his slim form pressing daintily into Ephraim’s giving bulk, lips touching ever so gently against the swelling curve of the prince-turned-cow’s belly as the other bellows in climax, inflated breasts becoming heavier with rich milk.