	"Remind me again why we are doing this?" Kharjo asked tiredly as he shuffled along at his friend's side.

	"Money," was Dar'kir's potent reply. "We are doing this because we are getting paid, and at the moment we need every coin we can get our grubby paws on."

	The two Khajiit men and their sabercat follower entered the building that served as the orphanage. Dar'kir had seen Honorhall Orphanage before back when he had spent some time in the city of Riften, but this one was different. This particular orphanage housed exclusively Khajiit boys. Nine of them, to be exact.

	"At least it's only for one night," Kharjo grumbled softly, letting the door close behind them. "And it will give us a place to sleep tonight."

	Boys of all ages from barely walking to sexual puberty greeted their temporary caretakers with bright, beaming smiles and even a few hugs around the adults' knees. Lydia made an even bigger impression on the group of boys when she sauntered in her lackadaisical way around a corner and into view. The youngest few of the kids, those that Dar'kir guessed to be around two years old through seven or eight, all became instantly enamored with the big animal and wanted nothing more than to ride on her back.

	After a few enjoyable hours of playtime with the younglings, Dar'kir turned his winning smile to his Huscarl. "See, Kharjo," he said fluidly as he bounced a squealing boy on his knee. "This isn't so bad, is it? And remember all the septims we will be making when we leave tomorrow."

	"So you were right," the other adult in the room admitted, looking up from where he was giving a boy a ride on his back just like Lydia had done before the kids had worn her out.

	Dar'kir might have been right about taking this job, but as the night started to wear on and the light outside fade, Kharjo began to feel an urge for a whole different kind of fun start to grow. Only the promise of money to come kept Kharjo back from acting on his desires. He had responsibilities to carry out, if he wanted to be paid.

	Thinking of those responsibilities made the cat take a look around at the children around them. Mentally he counted them up, but his expression sagged worriedly when he only came up with eight instead of nine. Without pointing out that one of the children were apparently missing, the Khajiit adult set the youth on his back down and stood upright. He scanned the small orphanage from top to bottom, even peeked into cupboards and under beds, but there was still one boy missing.

	A thought popped into Kharjo's head. Instead of looking for where the missing boy could be -hiding-, he instead started to look for where the cub could have -gone-. Lydia, the early suspect in Kharjo's mind, was lying peacefully on her side with her belly looking just slightly more rounded than usual. To add to the scene, the big cat was deliciously licking her chops in the way she always did after eating something tasty.

	"There goes our payment," Kharjo murmured to himself, seeing a barely discernible bulge push out from the sabercat's full belly. He could only wonder how the tiger had devoured the boy without anyone else having noticed.

	If they weren't going to get paid for their night 'caretaking', then Kharjo saw no reason for him not to have some of his own kind of fun. Now that one of the boys had gotten himself eaten, there was just no point anymore in needing to play it safe with the rest of the cubs. Come morning, Dar'kir, Kharjo, Lydia, and her little meal would already be long gone before the orphanage's regular mistresses would be back.

	The older silently-scheming Khajiit wordlessly made his way over to where he and Dar'kir had set aside their personal belongings. There was something there that he knew would make the night more interesting for everyone.

	It was too late before Dar'kir turned and saw his friend holding the Wabbajack. The Dragonborn's blood ran cold in an instant, and by that time the Daedric staff's magic was already working its chaos.

	Kharjo didn't have an intended target for the staff's power. He simply tapped the back end of the weapon to the ground and let whatever result come. Energy swirled around the head of the staff for a moment, before exploding out like lightning, branching in all directions. Some bolts of power hit harmlessly into the orphanage's walls, others went out windows. But one arm of the crackling magic found a victim to land on. Dar'kir.

	Everything happened in a flash. Kharjo looked to where Dar'kir once stood, where there was now only a pile of the Dragonborn's clothes. The gray-furred Huscarl stood frozen in place, fearing that he had inadvertently evaporated his friend.

	Not understanding what had happened, it was the youngest of the kitlings that approached Dar'kir's pile of clothes first. All eyes were on the leopard-furred and unclothed two year old as he rummaged through the crumpled fabrics, all the other cubs, Kharjo, and even Lydia holding their breath.

	Dar'kir came up clutched in the young kitten's fist, alive and struggling, but now only three inches tall after being shrunken by the Wabbajack. Kharjo let out a long gust of relief, his whole body drooping after being so tensed with worry. "Thank the Moons he is alright."

	"No thanks to you!" the now-tiny cat roared impotently from the toddler's fist. Dar'kir took a subconscious gulp looking at the gigantic naked boy, his normally small body seeming much more intimidating than it ever should now that Dar'kir was so small. "Help me before this cub drops me!"

	With a grin slowly growing to replace the worry that had been on his face, Kharjo knelt down at the young boy's side. "Let's see, what was your name again little one? Cutepaws, right? Well Cutepaws, why don't you have a little fun with your new toy here?"

	Dar'kir could hardly believe what he was hearing. He squirmed and struggled, but his reduced strength was nothing compared to the toddler's.  At three inches tall, he could do no more than to shake the young boy's hand around.

	At first Cutepaws was content to use Dar'kir like a doll, making the Dragonborn dance around a few inches above the floor. The rest of the boys around all watched on, each one warming to the joke and starting to laugh at Dar'kir's unfortunate situation. Kharjo laughed loudest with the group of boys, leading by example that it was alright for them to take pleasure in what was happening to the other adult.

	When it looked like Cutepaws was tiring of waving Dar'kir around like a puppet, Kharjo whispered something in the boy's ear. The cub's smile grew wide in an instant. His young mind didn't fully understand the adult's reasoning, but what he said sounded like it would be fun to do.

	The boy bent over to set Dar'kir down on the ground, clumsily dropping the shrunken man to the floorboards of the orphanage. Dar'kir, naked and bewildered, could do little before Cutepaws's bare foot hovered over his head and came down.

	All the boys, from the kitlings to those just reaching puberty all laughed raucously at Dar'kir being trampled by the two year old. Cutepaws was only somewhat gentle about stepping on Dar'kir, his wonky movements leaning back and forth over the shrunken Dragonborn.

	Dar'kir could see nothing but the paw and fur of the underside of the boy's foot. The massive weight held him down completely, keeping him from moving even his arms. The boy's paw crushed down over his face, pinning him to the wood and surrounding all five of his senses. A slight amount of paw sweat, just enough to fill Dar'kir's nostrils with its scent, touched the cat's fur all over. Dar'kir struggled and wriggled, but there was no getting out from under the boy's foot until he himself lifted his leg.

	Dar'kir gasped with his sudden freedom. Lying flat on his back, the small Khajiit's first reaction was to catch his breath and try to sit up. But any hope he had that his ordeal was over ended sharply when Cutepaws lifted his other foot high overhead and brought it down.

	There was a collective wince as the giggling toddler smushed Dar'kir flat once again. Cutepaws though was having the time of his short life. The boy kneaded his toes around the groaning tiny adult and leaned back and forth over him, working his little paw all over his new toy.

	Kharjo knelt down in close to the boy's foot, with Dar'kir just barely visible under it. "Look at how much fun he's having," the Dragonborn's Huscarl murmured with sinister glee. "Look at how happy you're making him. You're really great with kids, Dar'kir~"

	The squashed cat grumbled and groaned under the weight pushing down on him, his head just poking out from between Cutepaws's thick feline toes. "Kharjo, you get me out of here."

	Still holding the staff that had caused all the fun, Kharjo put his other hand on Cutepaws's shoulder. "Alright, we've had our fun. You should let Dar'kir up now."

	Cutepaws fully intended to do as the adult told him, but when the two year old lifted his foot again he also lost his balance. Twenty-five pounds of Khajiit cub came crashing down to the floor, with poor Dar'kir taking the brunt of the fall. Cutepaws flopped butt-first perfectly over the shrunken 
adult, his naked young bottom pounding the little cat flat.

	Only Dar'kir's head was visible between the toddler cub's legs, the rest of him down underneath the sitting boy. Cutepaws looked down with a shocked look on his face, seeing the little man between his legs that he accidentally sat on. Kharjo and all the other boys had cringed away when Cutepaws fell and landed on Dar'kir, all eyes looking back now to see if the tiny man was alright.

	Dar'kir fought to fill his lungs after they had been so roughly forced empty. Eyes wide and paws trembling, the miniature Dragonborn wheezed softly.

	After the initial shock of falling onto his little toy, Cutepaws regrew the smile he had from when he was stepping on Dar'kir. The two year old cub made himself comfortable on top of the small Khajiit, his legs kicking happily while his butt and groin held Dar'kir pinned down to the floor.

	For a moment Dar'kir was lost under the young boy's undersized male parts. The Dragonborn squirmed and reached for freedom, but Cutepaws's furry ball sack smothered him from above. As the boy shifted and moved over him, Dar'kir's view of anything besides Cutepaws's underside slowly 
vanished. His entire body was engulfed by the squealing toddler's rump and his small male bits.

	At this point, Kharjo couldn't stop himself from chuckling over what he was seeing. The cub looked like he was having the most fun he had ever known, rocking forward and back over little Dar'kir. Kharjo's friend was entirely lost to sight now, his tiny body somewhere under the naked two year old's butt. "How is it under there, Dar'kir?" the Huscarl joked through a wide grin.

	Dar'kir squirmed just the wrong way to accidentally touch his foot directly to the young cub's exposed tailhole. Cutepaws froze in place for a long moment, his face blanking at the unexpected feeling under his tail. Aside from being cleaned up after going to the bathroom, he had never felt anyone touch him there before, and certainly never in this way. It was all new for the toddler, but one thing was already clear to him. He liked the way it felt.

	Kharjo's first indication that anything was happening was when Cutepaws reached down between his legs and tucked his stubby fingers under himself. Kharjo thought the boy was about to pull Dar'kir out from under himself, but in reality the cub was about to do just the opposite.

	Light came to Dar'kir as the two year old shifted and reached his hand down to him. The boy's small fingers, which looked massive to the three-inch man, grabbed him and slid him deeper back into the cub's underside.

	There was no time given for Dar'kir to figure out what was happening to him. One moment the boy was wrapping his fingers around him, and the next Dar'kir felt his captured feet pushing up into the boy's tailhole.

	Kharjo couldn't see exactly what was happening under the boy until he bent down just a little further to take a look under him. By that time Dar'kir was waist deep up the toddler's backside, and being poked up deeper by the second. Dar'kir gave his friend a quick pleading look around the fingers that were stuffing him away, his face showing the panic of his situation.

	If Kharjo had acted, he surely could have stopped Cutepaws from what he was doing. But the sight of the two year old cub stuffing Dar'kir up his little butt all on his own so startled and excited Kharjo that he did nothing. Nothing but watch, mouth fallen open in surprise.

	The warmth and wetness inside Cutepaws slid up Dar'kir's body, the boy's previously-virgin pucker sliding up to the shrunken man's chest. Dar'kir's paws planted against the rim of the devouring hole to stop himself from going in deeper, but his resistance was cut off entirely by the strength of the giant toddler. With just a push of Cutepaws's finger's, Dar'kir's hands, arms, and chest went sliding up and in.

	Dar'kir could feel the change around his feet and legs as more and more of his body was shoved inside. The slippery smooth texture of the tight internal passage changed drastically all around his feet, and he could tell that he was being shoved into something altogether more unpleasant than an empty internal passageway. The Khajiit shivered but could do nothing to stop the feeling of the toddler's warm waste sliding up his legs and around his hips.

	"Kharjo help!" were the last words Dar'kir could say before his head was poked in and the boy's butt gulped him all the way inside.

	The slippery ring of muscle that had encircled him squeezed down and sent Dar'kir deep up inside the boy's body. Trapped in the tight embrace of Cutepaws's lower bowels, Dar'kir could do little more than wriggle around and look down in the darkness at the exit that he had been pushed in through. The smell inside was already unbearable, and he could tell that it was only going to get worse as the clumpy matter that was in with him, that was clinging messily all through his fur, shifted downward to inevitably engulf him just as the boy's colon had.

	Cutepaws stood up and clapped his little hands, laughing hysterically at his own little joke. Kharjo watched frozen still, his eyes glued to the meaty cheeks of the toddler's rump. Dar'kir was really all the way in there. He was in Cutepaws's belly now! Kharjo looked all over the young cub's lower half, imagining the three-inch insertion's position somewhere up inside the naked boy's back end.

	Stunned silence resounded from the rest of the boys watching. They looked to Kharjo to know what to do now, but not even the adult really knew. "You did that all on your own," Kharjo said in a quiet whisper, his erection raging unseen in his pants. "You put Dar'kir up your butt..."

	"It feels good," Cutepaws said in his quiet two-year-old way, squirming on one foot for a moment, obviously feeling Dar'kir's internal squirms.

	Kharjo picked Cutepaws up and swallowed hard. Slowly, his smile crept back across his muzzle. The last remaining adult in the room stood upright with the boy in the crook of his arm, his eyes still taking glances at the cub's belly. 'Dar'kir is really in there,' he mentally repeated, his mind almost unable to deal with the enormity of that fact.

	It was Cutepaws that accidentally decided for Kharjo what to do next when he pulled a massive yawn. "I'm tired," he mumbled softly, looking like he was ready to fall asleep right in Kharjo's arms.

	"Alright, alright, it looks like it's bedtime for you," the gray-furred Khajiit soothed, walking the boy to his bed with his constrained boner leading the way. "You can just keep Dar'kir for the night, and we'll let him out tomorrow. Sound good to you?"

	Cutepaws nodded sleepily, already almost out as Kharjo laid him down to the sheets.

	The pressure in his pants demanded attention. When Kharjo came back into the orphanage's main room with the rest of the children, that one part of his anatomy wouldn't let him think of anything else. He looked to where the Wabbajack lay on the floor, and a thought came to him. If the staff's use had already done so much that night, what would it do if he used it again?

	Another tap to the floor and another burst of Daedric magic gave Kharjo his answer. Defying all previous experience he and Dar'kir had had with the staff of randomness and madness, the Wabbajack repeated the same shrinking spell it had worked minutes before. But this time when Kharjo used the cursed weapon, it affected more than just a single target.

	All of the remaining seven boys from the orphanage were hit with with the branching bolts of power that radiated from Kharjo's borrowed staff. All seven experienced the exact same effect that had hit Dar'kir moments before. All seven were reduced where they stood to a height no greater than a couple inches off the ground.

	"Would you look at this, Lydia," Kharjo murmured dreamily, his erection begging for release from his clothing now that he was seeing so many new possibilities.

	The great sabercat was on her feet in a heartbeat, her big head lowered down over a cluster of the boys to sniff at them. The gusts from the full-bellied cat nearly inhaled the miniscule cubs right into her nostrils.

	Her tongue was ready to slurp up the little morsels, but Kharjo stepped in to stop her. He wanted the shrunken kids too, and amusing as watching Lydia lick them up and gulp them down would have been, he had his own pressing ideas for them all.

	Tossing the heaps of clothing aside that used to be worn by all the orphans, Kharjo picked the boys one by one into his paws and carefully carried them in a mass over to a nearby table. "You won't be able to get off of here, at your new size. This will be a good place to keep you all until I'm ready for you."

	Off came all of Kharjo's clothes, until he was every bit as naked as the boys he had shrunk and set on the table. His erection was allowed to stand up proud now without his pants to hold it back, and his shaft thanked him for it with a hard series of throbs.

	Seeing Cutepaws poke Dar'kir up his own butt strained Kharjo right to the edge of his limits, but that was hardly where he wanted to stop. "How about it, Lydia?" he asked to his big cat. "You want some of these boys to get pushed up your butt too? I know I would sure love to see that."

	It wasn't clear if the animal understood her companion's words, but the tone of his voice got her excited enough to rise to her feet. Kharjo gave a look and a chuckle at the hanging bulge under her great bulk, the boy inside still giving visible struggles around under her fur. Murmuring quiet reassurances to the big tiger, Kharjo scooped three of the miniaturized boys off the table.

	He spared a quick look into his palm to see just who out of the orphans he was about to use. What he guessed to be a three year old, a five year old, and possibly a seven year old all laid sprawled in the center of his paw looking back up at him with pleading eyes. "Good news, boys," he said with a grin as his other hand lifted Lydia's short tail. "I've found a home for you three."

	One after the other Kharjo slipped the one-to-two inch tall boys up Lydia's back end, tucking them fully away up through her pink pucker. Of course the cub boys struggled against being put away inside the tiger, but there was nothing they could do to resist the horny giant. On the last of the three boys Kharjo poked his first three fingers up through Lydia's hole as well to make sure his little toys were sent in nice and deep.

	The feel around his fingers was wet and squishy everywhere, with the struggling forms of the three shrunken boys just at his fingertips. Apparently it felt pretty good for Lydia as well, because right then the massive sabercat bent in a low bow, her feline style stretch rippling the muscles down her back and through Kharjo's inserted fingers.

	When Lydia leaned herself forward and stretched, Kharjo felt the three boys at his fingertips suddenly slip away. They were pulled in together even deeper than he could reach just as easily as he could have imagined. Lydia's butt simply swallowed them alive, taking them in deep all for herself.

	Lydia finished her stretch and stood upright again with Kharjo's fingers still reached up into her, but he still couldn't feel the inserted cubs. It was too much for him. Looking down at the tiger's butt that had eaten the boys, wriggling his fingers around in her internal softness and not feeling them because they were in so deep... Kharjo tensed all through his body, his hand slipping out of the sabertooth so it could wrap firmly around his own needy shaft.

	He was just in time for it to go off.

	The Khajiit's male pride exploded in his paw, firing off hard bursts of his potent juices. His eyes clenched at his moment of release, so he couldn't see his white strands peppering into Lydia's coat, but he knew deep in his overburdened brain that it was happening. Kharjo gripped his other hand into the fur of Lydia's behind, imaging the shrunken boys lost somewhere far inside the tiger's rear system as his pumping flow rocked his whole body.

	Kharjo's cock throbbed even after his climax had ended. Just because he had gotten off didn't change the fact that those boys were still tucked away deep inside Lydia's bowels, and that thought gave Kharjo tingles under his skin. But why should Lydia be the only one with those little cubs stuck away up in her? The feline man turned panting to glare at the remainder of the orphanage's boys, the last four of them standing huddled tight together on the table where he left them. "Your turn," he whispered darkly.

	He carefully took two of the boys, quickly guessing them to be around ten or so years old, and positioned them just right in his paw. Holding the boys back behind himself, Kharjo lifted his tail.

	He could clearly hear the cubs' yells for help right up until he fed their tiny little heads up his back door.

	The squirming, even with how small they were, was nothing less than godly for the recently-orgasmed cat. Kharjo's leg shivered as he pushed and poked, sending the little toys up and away within himself, feeling their every movement as his hole claimed them and pulled them the last of the way in. Kharjo swirled his fingertip just inside of his ring of muscle, pulling out with a moist little pop to leave the orphans inside.

	As good as they felt, Kharjo wasn't done yet. Not when there were still two boys left for him to play with. And these ones he knew just where he wanted them. Even after his climax, his cock demanded more, more, more.

	These last two were probably the oldest of the bunch. At maybe twelve or thirteen, the two boys knew just what the giant man's erection was, and how their struggles must feel pleasant against it. Kharjo held the boys to his cock for a moment, sliding them carefully against his skin. Panting and heated, the Khajiit gingerly took just one of the pre-teen cubs and introduced his feet into the tip of his malehood.

	The boy slid in slick and easy, Kharjo almost losing him before he was ready. The sight of the cub being gulped down his shaft's mouth surged a shot of adrenaline through Kharjo, the feeling like a drug that he needed more of. He pushed the little boy down and away, letting him make the long slide down into his standing cock.

	Every throb of the adult cat's cock swallowed the boy just a little deeper. Kharjo was squirming himself through the whole long process of his cock eating a boy alive, the visible moving lump in the underside of his shaft slipping lower and lower by the second. With shaking paws, Kharjo pushed the last of the orphans head-first down the mouth of his erect pride.

	Quivers ran through the Khajiit in hard waves, each spurned on by the feeling of something alive moving down his shaft while the other little boys still tried to escape the prison of his butt. His toes curled, his tail danced, and his whiskers shivered. Everything felt just so -good-.

	"Uncle Kharjo?" came a small, tired voice.

	Kharjo looked over to see Cutepaws standing in the doorway of his bedroom, sleepily rubbing his eye. Caught naked and filled with micro-sized cubs, Kharjo froze up like a rock.

	Cutepaws seemed not at all to notice the adult's situation, simply saying in his weak little murmur "I can't sleep. Will you read me a bedtime story?"

	Kharjo took a second to look down at his malehood and the cubs still stuck inside it. He gently stroked his paw down its length, feeling their little bulges down by his sheath. "S-Sure, Cutepaws," he said. "Come on, let's put you back to bed."

	Feeling the movements up his rear, Kharjo sat with Cutepaws in his bed, letting the boy tuck himself into the crook of his arm. Kharjo opened a book the boy gave him, but before he was able to read a single word he heard and felt a slight purring snore coming from Cutepaws's small form. He 
looked down to find the cub already sound asleep. Kharjo chuckled softly and set the book aside, leaning himself back in the young boy's bed to spend the night there with him.

	Just before Kharjo himself closed his eyes for the last time that night, he let his paw run a smooth pet across Cutepaws's chubby belly. He faintly wondered if Dar'kir had gone to sleep in there yet.

	Morning surprised Kharjo. He hadn't remembered falling asleep, but he must have since the light of day was now coming in through the windows. As he stirred, Cutepaws was gently wakened and sat up with a cubby kind of smile on his face. "Good morning, you," Kharjo whispered sweetly, poking the boy's nose with a fingertip. "You still have Dar'kir?"

	Cutepaws thought for a moment, looking like he was feeling for the man he had put up his butt last night. "Uh huh!" he crowed happily, bouncing in his excitement. "Uncle Dar'kir's awake too!"

	Deep in his sheath, Kharjo could feel the boys that he had put away as well. They seemed to have made it just fine through the night while inside his member, the ones in his rear too. The adult Khajiit smiled wide and stretched even wider, rolling himself out of the bed to start his day. "Let's get Lydia and be off."

	"Where are we going?" Cutepaws asked, looking up to the adult that he now was incredibly fond of.

	Kharjo gave a wink to the boy. "I think Dar'kir and I might just adopt all you little guys. What do you think of that?"

	Cutepaws was overjoyed by the news, but standing in stark contrast to the jubilant atmosphere was Lydia. Kharjo only needed to take one look at her to know she wasn't well.

	Before he could say a single word to the tiger, Lydia opened her jaws and heaved. A great wet hairball came gushing up her throat to splat of the floor. Kharjo cringed at the sight at first, but was shocked to see the wad of internal juices and fur start to move. The regurgitated ball uncurled, the five year old cub that Lydia had swallowed the day before coughing and sputtering.

	A long moment passed where Kharjo just stared at the thrown-up cub. The silence was broken by Cutepaws shrieking a delighted laugh.

	The soaking wet five year old looked up at Kharjo, his fur dripping everywhere and his face sodden.

	"What's your name, kid?" Kharjo asked."

	The boy said quietly "Explorer."

	'Fitting name,' Kharjo said in his own head. Aloud, he spoke to the boy "Well, Explorer, today you're being adopted along with the rest of the orphans here. Come on, let's get going."

	As Kharjo left the orphanage with Cutepaws in his arm and Explorer and Lydia at his side (Explorer still trailing a thick amount of slime in his wake) the Khajiit gave one last pat to Cutepaws's belly. Smiling and happy, Kharjo said "This will be the start of a whole new kind of adventure, Dar'kir. This will be... Fun."