let it leave me like a long breath

The materia box turned up a [Long Range], two [Counter Attack], and one softly-glowing lavender materia that none of them could identify. Barret held it in his hand, peering at it suspiciously, before Cloud snatched it out of his hand and easily fitting it into the spare slot in his bangle. His expression took on the slightly-unfocused gaze that accompanied attempting to probe out a materia's effects.

"Huh," he said, after a few seconds. "No idea."

Barret let out a guffaw. "Fancy SOLIDER no better than the rest of us, huh?"

Cloud shrugged. "There are materia with specialized purposes, but there aren't really any with negative effects, so you might as well slot it and wait and see. Worst case scenario, you can't figure it out and we gotta get it appraised. Might be something useless like [Chocobo Lure], though."

---

Some time went on. The raid on the ShinRa materia-storage facility became just another detour in their travels.

Something, Red noticed, had changed, though. Cloud smelled... much better. Much more attractive. It started as something faint, almost floral, and then deepened over the next week into a heavy, rich tang, spicy and almost bloody. At the same time, well. Red hadn't wanted to mention it at first, but he had noticed how Cloud had been staring at him. It wasn't that unusual; he was the only member of the group to go around fully naked. His sheath and balls were usually shrouded in fur, shaggy spikes obscuring the sheer heft of it between his haunches, but his sac was bulky and huge, swaying heavily beneath him; his sheath was a fat, broad tube that spanned halfway up his belly, and Red wasn't interested in going out of his way to hide any part of him. Cloud had been... curious, maybe. But the looks only got more and more intense, more obvious, and finally started to be timed with a sharp increase in his scent, reeking so much Red spent all night with Cloud's heady scent in his nose and woke with a heavy, dripping erection. He had to do something about it.

"I've determined what your unknown materia does," Red said to Cloud, alone one evening. Cloud was affecting stoicism, even with how his scent fluttered and spiked as Red padded close. Cloud was flushed, blood pumping fast and hot, scent flying off him in waves.

"Oh?" Cloud said.

Red curled his lips up into a smirk. "You've been feeling hot recently. Flushed. Your skin is softer and more pliable. You've had some difficulty focusing. You feel empty; you need something inside you. Am I wrong?"

"Uh," Cloud said. His scent was still increasing. Finally, Red gave into temptation and followed it: he nosed forward, snuffling across Cloud's outer thigh, sliding in to the mound of his dick. Cloud had been perpetually half-hard for weeks, and with Red's approach he'd firmed up, cock straining the front of his pants, bulging out obscenely. But that wasn't it. Red pressed beneath, between his thighs, half-shoving one of Cloud's legs over his shoulder as he snuffled and panted along the crack of Cloud's ass.

"It's a breeding materia," he said, voice rough. "Maybe for chocobos. Or maybe for anybody who wants to use you."

Red let himself unsheath, cock slurping out into the open with a stinging release after so long cramped up inside him. There was a wet splatter, backed-up pre spraying from his sheath, soaking the ground beneath him. His own scent increased, and Cloud stifled a groan, his eyes lurching up like they wanted to roll back in his head.

Red growled: "I've seen you looking at me. Before you even slotted that thing in. It's just made it more obvious. It's made you need me. A fat knot to plug you up and breed you through your heat."

"Red, I--" Cloud's voice was shaky, dazed. He was leaking. New glands inside him, swollen and puffy, squirting out slick, slimy fluid. Preparing him to be bred properly.

Red curled his lips back in a hungry smile. "No normal human could take my cock. Even some Mako-enhanced SOLIDER would struggle. But you-- you'll open yourself up wide and swallow my knot. Your body knows what it needs."

Red's cock unsheathed in lurches, a few inches of fat, barb-spiralled shaft spilling out at a time. Sliding across his underbelly, leaving behind slimy trails, as more and more dropped out of him. It spread his haunches, making him have to widen his gait. His balls churned, smacking against his thighs, and the next spurt of pre shot between his forelegs, splattering against Cloud's calves and soaking through the fabric of his pants. Cloud let out a shaky moan, staring down at him.

"I need..." he started, voice trailing off.

"You need to be bred," Red said.

"I need to be bred," Cloud repeated, eyes cloudy, face flushed.

"You need my knot locked in your ass."

"I need your knot," Cloud said. He clenched his thighs, squeezing the bulk of his trapped dick, and let out a soft groan. Red's knot caught against the lip of his sheath, making the entire thing swell and shudder, before it burst out into the open with a messy spray of slime. Red's cocktip bobbed between his forelegs, cock spanning the full length across his stomach.

"Present yourself to be bred", Red said.

Cloud just dropped to his knees, slumping forward off his seat, and Red leaned in, paws on Cloud's thighs, to messily kiss him. He opened his muzzle wide across his face and shoved his slavering tongue into Cloud's unresisting mouth. Cloud groaned, throat working as he gulped down a mouthful of Red's slimy drool, and Red probed deeper, the sloppy muscle of his tongue shoving down cloud's throat, stopping his breath, making him gurgle and choke, slobbering around Red's tongue. Red growled, hungry, and messily throatfucked Cloud with his tongue, letting Cloud's mouth overflow with spit and phelgm, bursting in sloppy bubble over his lips and spilling down his chest. Cloud rocked into the touch, hands curling around Red's shoulders, shaky needy noises buzzing around Red's tongue.

Red pulled back, after a while. His tongue lazily lapped across his lips, cleaning up the mess of froth, while Cloud knelt there, dazed, mouth open and drooling, frothy slobber overflowing his flushed, bruised lips and spilling down his heaving chest. He was hard in his pants, cock a fat lump, but it was nothing compared to the titanic club jutting out from Red's sheath, cocktip jutting just between his forelegs, nearly scraping the ground from the drag of its own weight. Red flexed his cock, smacking it up against his chest, and the splatter of pre painted Cloud from neck to thigh, soaking through his clothes in a slimy wash of thin, oily pre.

Cloud's eyes fluttered shut, and his whole body jerked. He inhaled deeply, drinking in Red's scent. A needy whine ripped up his throat. He came in his pants: bulge shuddering, hips jerking, his load slowly seeping through the fabric as he convulsed.

Red snarled, lip curling up. "Hands and knees," he demanded, and Cloud scrambled, twisting around to present his ass. Red chuckled, the sound a low snarl, and jerked forward: teeth closing on the band of Cloud's belt, the sharp snap slicing through the leather. He jerked back, cloth in his mouth, and the seat of Cloud's pants tore away with a loud rip, leaving a messy wedge of fabric draped down his thighs, ass bare. He was already slick, pink hole weakly pulsing, fluttering open in his body's response to the heady reek of red's rut. his taut ballsac was on display, already smeared with his own load, and as Red watched, Cloud's fluttering hole winked, drizzling out a spurt of slick, clear liquid, oozing down the curve of his ass and forming a syrupy cord hanging from his sac.

Red surged forward and mounted him, rough. His paws slammed Cloud's shoulders to the ground, face mashed to the floor, and his cocktip sawed across his asscheeks, sliding up, catching some of Cloud's slick fluid across his shaft, smearing over his barbs, before he drew back and thrust again: pointed cocktip catching on the flushed lips of Cloud's asshole and bashing it open wide, slamming his giant, animal cock into Cloud's fertile body.

Cloud keened, a sharp cry bursting from his lips, and before Red could even slam the full length of his cock inside Cloud was cumming again, cock erupting in a messy splatter of cum beneath them. His asshole shuddered, inner walls squeezing and spreading, needily stroking Red's shaft. Red jerked forward, half his shaft sunk inside, and then back -- Cloud yowled as his barbs tore stinging furrows across his soft flesh -- and then, hindpaws dancing forward, he plunged himself in down to the knot, smacking rubbery and heavy against Cloud's straining hole. Red growled in Cloud's ear, draped over his body: forepaws on his shoulders, massive sac spilling down Cloud's thighs.

Anyone else, this would've been impossible: like taking an arm bicep-deep with no prep. But Cloud's body had been reshaping itself for being bred for months. His guts opened up easily, sliding smoothly across Red's enormous animal cock. He huffed, panting across the side of Cloud's face, messily drooling. He jabbed back and forth, feeling out Cloud's body -- shaft stretching his stomach, tight and clenching. His guts unspooled, guiding Red's thrusts: up, against his ribcage, knocking the breath from Cloud's lungs with each thrust, or out, jabbing against the slack, rubbery flesh of his stomach, distending his belly out around Red's enormous club of a cock.

So stretchy because he was ready to be bred, to grow fat with a litter, and it was that thought more than anything else: Cloud fat and pregnant, belly swollen with Red's pups, brought forth a baying howl from his throat. He yapped and snarled, the thread of his control snapping as he sunk into the desire: breeding Cloud, pumping his altered body so full of cum that he grew fat and heavy with young. Chest milky, pups squirming inside his womb, ass open and ready for breeding after breeding, Cloud giving him litter after litter. Red howled, paws scratching down Cloud's sides, curling around his waist as Red hunched forward, a mindless dog needing to bury its knot, to dump its load. Cloud jolted beneath him with each thrust, face mashed flat to the ground, shaky sobs and whines ripped out of him as Red plowed violently into him, over and over.

Red's knot, turgid but already fattening, bashed against Cloud's asshole over and over. Pre squirted out around its loose socket, painting frothy lines over its raw red bulk. Which Red tore his dick back, Cloud gaped, hole looser and looser, ring folding over itself in a slimy pile, only for Red to slam in again, hindpaws straining, as he ground his growing knot against Cloud's hole, forcing it to yawn wider, wider, until with a final lurch Red bashed it inside: knot spreading his hole obscenely, smashed open wide, with the full bulk of his knot nestled in its rubbery grip, before he jerked forward again: burying his knot in Cloud's ass, hole slack and loose, blossoming open mashed against the coarse hair of Red's sheath.

Red howled, yapping up at the roof as his knot flexed and grew, barbs digging into Cloud's raw flesh and twisting. He erupted in a sharp plume of burning cum, washing deep into Cloud's guts and gurgling back down his shaft, collecting in a sloppy pool at the base of his shaft, dammed there by his growing knot. Red shot again and again, each burst of cum filling Cloud up more and more, heavy and sloshing. His belly, already warped around the club of Red's dick, started to soften: rounding out as the weight of cum inside him grew. Tightly knotted, Red's sharp spurts evened out into a steady pour, pissing out a continual stream of thin, watery cum. More and more, until Cloud already looked pregnant: round belly shuddering the sloppy gurgle of cum, sagging until it hit the floor and began to spread out, digging into the sides of Red's forepaws clamped around his waist. The thought of it just made Red cum more: breeding Cloud, knocking him up, all that cum fertilizing whatever materia-induced eggs he'd produced, breeding him a whole host of pups, more and more.

Red collapsed across Cloud's back, panting. Cloud made an excellent broodmare. Finding that [Fertility] materia had been the best thing that'd ever happened to them.

"I don't think the jewel shards are supposed to do that," Inuyasha said, staring down at his dick. Koga just blinked.

Inuyasha was used to his dick. It was a nice dick. About yea long, straight, tapered, nice bulky knot. What he had now, was... like, his dick was straight because it had a bone in it; he knew enough about canine anatomy to know that at least. But apparently in the fight the shikon jewel shard had gotten shattered, and a sliver of it had sunk itself into his inner thigh, and now, well.

A slimy, prehensile tentacle-dick spilled out of his sheath, nearly twice as long as his already quite decent length. Rubbery and heavy, twisting over itself in heavy folds. Something ached in his balls, heavier and fatter than usual, hanging down lower in his mounded sac. Some weird new muscle in his shaft twitched, sending his shaft twisting to the side, cocktip flexing open to spit out a heavy gush of silvery-white pre all down his bare thigh.

Inuyasha groaned, one hand pressed to his forehead. "This is too much. We gotta get some tweezers or something to get that shard out."

"...I dunno," Koga said, still staring at Inuyasha's dick. "I kinda like it."

Inuyasha yelped: "What?!"

"You still got a knot," Koga said, leaning in to curl his hands around it, sloppily massaging the turgid swell. Inuyasha's dick draped itself over his shoulder. It wasn't that dissimilar from his usual dick: still red, still visibly canine in shape. Just, no bone. Prehensile.

Koga had been getting more and more brazen about it the more Inuyasha fucked him. The first time he'd shyly, innocently felt across Inuyasha's sheath, shocked and impressed by his big dog demon dick. Now he was a hair away from demanding Inuyasha knot him every time they set up camp, which definitely hadn't helped things with Kagome at all.

Koga leaned in, tongue licking a wet stripe up Inuyasha's shaft, and his tentacle dick flexed on its own, coiling around his head like a giant slimy tongue, practically coccooning him inside Inuyasha's big dog dick. Koga groaned, exhale hot and wet against the coils of Inuyasha's dick, and his breath came out between the slurping sides of his shaft in big frothy bubbles, spilling down the muscular swell of his dick and then all over Koga's neck.

Koga started lapping along the sides of his cock, hungrily moaning as he lapped up cords of pre. His own dick was starting to knife up from his crotch, shoving his fur skirt to the side as he unsheathed in pulses. He leaned in, mouth open wide, and it was more his dick itself than anything Inuyasha did that had him shoving his cock into his mouth. The snakelike coil of it looped back around, folding over itself, and then shoved into Koga's mouth and down his tight, milking throat in a spray of spit and pre, immediately pulsing thick cords of pre that gurgled and overflowed Koga's mouth.

Inuyasha staggered backward, cock unspooling to keep itself shoved down Koga's throat, and Koga groaned, lurching forward on his knees, hands gripping Inuyasha's thighs as he sunk himself deeper on Inuyasha's fat dog dick.

Inuyasha had to admit, the flexible dick made deepthroating a lot easier. His dick bent, curving down Koga's throat -- swelling his neck visibly -- and he easily swallowed more, wetly gulping around his shaft as he sunk his face deeper, deeper, onto Inuyasha's cock. Koga's eyes rolled back in his head, body shakily jerking forward, hips humping the air, and he came untouched, his own knot jerking from his sheath with a wet splat as he splattered his load all across Inuyasha's thighs in wet, watery spurts.

Inuyasha groaned, cock spurting again. He grabbed Koga's head, shudderingly sliding him down his shaft until his nose mashed against his turgid knot, and then pulled him back, moaning at the slide of his cock through his tight throat. Then again, and again, sloppily facefucking Koga with his weird tentacle-dick, plunging its whole length down his throat.

His balls lurched, their heavier bulk lolling across his thighs, bunching up into a bulky, head-sized mound that smacked hard against Koga's throat. Inuyasha groaned, losing himself in the sensation: plowing down Koga's throat, the sharp spang of his knot digging into his bruised lips, the stinging slap of his balls, faster and faster until he was beating a tattoo against Koga's throat, massaging his own shaft through his stretched flesh. Cords of slime burst from Koga's nose and mouth, forming rubbery cords draped between them, splattering across Koga's slimy face each time Inuyasha brought his head down with a smack.

Inuyasha raised his head, back arching, and howled at the sky when he came: hauling Koga's head down sharply, bashing his knot against his lips and then -- with the ease of long practice -- shoving it through Koga's mouth, lips stretched out into a rubbery crater, dragged away from his face, from the sheer size of Inuyasha's knot. It filled his mouth, stiff sides digging into his teeth, tongue pinned to the floor of his mouth, just weakly squirming.

Something thick and heavy, bulky, lurched up from Inuyasha's balls. Huge lumps of something, stewing inside him, worked their way up: burning through his inner passages, catching for a moment between his hips in a huge lump before another muscular spasm sent them rocketing up his shaft, pouring down Koga's throat to erupt down into his stomach. A spray, and then another, and another, as Inuyasha pinned Koga's face to his sheath, hips shallowly rocking. Lump after lump gushing down Koga's throat, suspended in a sloppy sea of his thin, watery dog cum.

Inuyasha collapsed back against the trunk of a nearby tree, hauling Koga with him, and just leaned there, panting, body dripping with sweat, cock pulsing with a life of its own as he pumped glob after glob of-- whatever down Koga's throat.

Koga was still weakly cumming, just a wet burble of slime sheeting down his cock, both hands curled around his own knot. His snuffled, slime squirting from his nose against the shaggy white fur of Inuyasha's sheath, making muffled moans as Inuyasha filled him up. He usually came a lot, but this was-- each blast of cum was a fountaining spray, carrying a half-dozen rubbery blobs along with it, hosing down into Koga's stomach over and over. His stomach swelled, rounding out and digging into his own cock, knocking it down between Inuyasha's legs. One of Koga's hands went to feel across his stomach, clearly feeling everything knocking around inside him, blobs churning in a sea of cum, but Inuyasha -- he just tipped his head back, rolling his hips against Koga's face, and kept unloading, spewing mass after mass of weird dense globs down Koga's throat, filling out his stomach until he looked pregnant.

Maybe Koga was right. Maybe this was pretty nice.

handclap emoji LET BOC BE HAPPY etc

---

Boc was cursed. It was his nature as a demihuman. Half-beast, half-human. And the beast had a way of overriding.

He was in rut. Perpetually. His manhood was a disgusting, clublike mass of gnarled, discolored flesh. Patchy pink-purple, with the gristled ridges fading to a sickening yellow, a grublike white. The sing of pleasure when his sheath dragged across his thighs, swaying beneath him when he moved, made him feel disgusting. Bestial pleasures for a disgusting beast. A bestial implement, only suited for a mindless beast. It was impossible to sate, no matter how he tried: it was like he had an infinite source of foul issue inside him, thick and jellied, with congealed chunks, sloppy and oozing out of him in a gummy grey wash. He had tried ignoring it, but that just made it worse, leaving him perpetually erect and leaking, with stringy slime washing down his length, and if he ignored it long enough the spill of his own preseed was enough to bring him off again, leaving him spasming and writhing in the long grass, fur matted and stinking with his foul issue, any clothes he'd fitted to himself utterly ruined from the oily issue soaking in, discoloring the fabric, embedded with the rank stench.

When preparing himself to be of use to his master, he had to-- wring himself out, so to speak. So his disgusting manhood could hide itself away in his sheath, blissfully inert for the few minutes the master deigned to let him share his presence. That hurt, too: that his joy at being allowed to serve the Tarnished, serve who would certainly become the next Elden Lord, was tainted by the throb of his own arousal, shuddering to life the longer he contemplated the man: so noble of bearing, so powerful his body, beautiful, striking, noble. His cock would slither out, stiff and aching, and the joy of being useful, being good, would all wither away, choked out by raw, bestial lust. He was a beast at his core.

The Tarnished -- the Lord, his Lord, although it felt so presumptious to lay claim to any part of him -- had been by, resting for a moment, and then left, and in his wake even the faint smell of him, power and heat, blood and sweat, left Boc dazed, lust rising steady and implacable inside him. The touch of his fingers against his thighs was enough for his length to spill from his sheath, gleaming sickening in the light, slathered and dripping with his viscous, sludgy preseed. His balls churned, each lurch almost painful, beating hard against his thighs, just the lightest touch knocking the sense from his mind, leaving him shaking and panting, needy. Better to handle it now, before his Lord returned.

He disrobed and hid himself away in the bushes, both hands curling around his unsheathed club -- barely managing to circle its irregular, misshapen girth, two handspans nowhere near long enough to cover its length. His spindly arms were thinner around than its clublike girth. His sac pooled to the ground between his spread knees, soft pink flesh garish, balls lumpy and gnarled, curled over themselves in heavy furls. He could feel his issue seep through them, pumping through the dense tangle of cords inside his bloated sac, and as he stroked his shaft he could feel the slow pump grow faster, drawing forth thicker, slimier discharge from his oozing length. It squelched across his fingers, webbing in cords, soaking his fur to his skin. Naked, like this, it was impossible to distinguish him from any other beast: a mindless thing, hooting and panting, slaking its lusts in the bushes.

"Boc?"

Boc's eyes flew open, body tense, the wet squelch of his thrusts stopping. His Lord was there, by the campsite, and his gaze was turned to the shuddering bush in which Boc had hidden himself away in.

"Boc?" The Tarnished called again, stepping closer. "Are you alright?"

Only the fear of him drawing aside the branches and seeing him like this, squatting on his haunches, cock in hand, had Boc speak up, voice shaking and reedy: "M'lord, please-- please turn your eyes away. I couldn't bear it if you saw. I couldn't--" Boc's chest was heaving, lust and terror warring inside him, nightmarish cock still unsheathed and drooling, a touch away from spilling a fresh load into the steaming pile of slop he'd already milked out of him. No matter the situation, his body needed more, and even now, when it was going to ruin everything, his cock still refused to wilt even a fraction. If anything, it got harder: the Tarnished's body so close, noble gaze turned his way, muscles so clear under his garb. Boc yearned. "Please, leave me be."

The Tarnished just stepped closer, brow furrowed. Boc wailed, cock shuddering. Unthinking, he tried to cover himself, hide his length behind his arms, both hands cupping his bloated, sagging sac. His cock rippled, spitting out a sludgy cord of cum, a fat, squiggling worm that smeared across his biceps and spilled down his arms in a viscous roll of mucus, tethering itself to Boc's sodden fingers, still curled tight around his shaft.

"Master, please!" he begged, sobbing, and he squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head away, when he felt the branches before him move, pinned back by the Tarnished's majestic arm. There was a pause, everything still, only ending when Boc sobbed again, tears burning in his eyes. "M'lord, I'm sorry, I-- Please don't think poorly of me," he said, still unable to look. "I knew this day would come, when I-- when I wouldn't be able to hide down disgusting and ugly I truly am. I can only... beg forgiveness for misleading you." He was panting, body shaking with fear and misery, and his stubborn fucking cock was throbbing as hard as ever, sending a spill of clotted issue running down his slime-coated arms.

There was a thump in front of him, and a hand on his shoulder, and Boc startled back, nearly toppling backwards. "Boc," the Tarnished said, looking down at him. "Don't think of yourself like that."

"...What? M'lord, but," Boc said, stammering, cock still pulsing, halfway hidden behind his arms. "I..."

"Can I...?" the Tarnished said, and Boc's gaze was utterly uncomprehending, blankly staring, as he slowly moved his hand from Boc's shoulder to his pressed-together arms. His touch was hot on his elbow, bending his arm away from his shuddering shaft to reveal the full bulk of his monstrous, bestial manhood. His fingers slid over its misshapen surface, fingertips catching across his bulging knobs, and Boc let out a reedy sob, entire body convulsing as his cock spat out a fat, oozing glob of greyish seed.

"You can't, you'll just sully yourself--" Boc mumbled, shaky, as the Tarnished curled his hand as far as it would go around Boc's titanic shaft. His hand slid, up and down, stroking, and Boc's mumbles cut off in a reedy moan, back arching, hands falling entirely away from the giant club of his cock. The Tarnished leaned in closer, both hands cupping his length, stroking softly, and Boc writhed on the ground, panting out short, shaky noises.

"You should have said something," came his Lord's voice, low and steady, the same calm tone it had always had. Not disgusted or angry. "I think you're very sweet, and kind. And..." a pause, and when Boc stared at his Lord's face it had a sly smile across it. "This is quite the weapon you have here. I'm surprised you managed to conceal it for so long." His fingers gripped tighter, digging into the heavy gnarls across Boc's shaft, slurping over the banded ridges ringing his length. Boc howled, panting, hips jerking reflexively, and he erupted in an immense spume of seed, arcing right over his head and coming down heavily across the brush behind them with a patter like rainfall. And then again, and again, as the Tarnished kept stroking him off milking spurt after spurt of his thick, grimy issue out of him, in pressurized squirts. His cock kicked, the motion stronger than Boc's own legs, and it swayed wildly, slashing the next spurt in a wide arc, and Boc was horrified to see the tail of the arc catch the Tarnished across the jaw, leaving behind fat, sluglike globs of clumping seed. Thin slime separated from the thick ooze, spilling down his jaw like sweat, leaving a dense, waxy glob behind.

"So sorry," Boc panted, chest heaving. "It's vile, it's... I can't-- I'm cursed, I can't stop, it never stops."

The Tarnished lifted one hand off his shaft -- letting it crash down across Boc's narrow chest, soaking him in his own vile issue -- and brought it to his throat, where Boc's issue was clinging to him. He caught it across his hand, watching how it stretched and drooped between his fingers, and then--

Boc felt like he was in a dream, or a nightmare. His Lord lifted his hand to his lips. His tongue flitted out, catching across the dense, jelly-like glob of cum, and he lapped across his fingers, licking the whole gummy mass into his mouth. Then, easily, he leaned down, mouth open -- the stringy mess of cum still visible webbed across his teeth -- and licked up along Boc's length, lips and tongue so hot, so wet, like nothing Boc had ever even dared imagine. He wailed, cock thundering, and the Tarnished's mouth reached his cockhead right as he gushed again: the next eruption of cum caught him right in his face, sending thick, jelly-like cum splattering in all directions, smeared in globs all across his noble face, dotting his clothes. He opened wide, lips pursing around Boc's gnarled cocktip, and caught the rest of the spurt in his mouth. His cheeks bulged, excess burbling out over his lips in a thick grey wash, and then slowly, thickly, he swallowed, gulping once, twice, three times, before he'd swallowed the rest of the spurt.

"Master, your garments." Boc weakly plucked at his mantle, dazed, dizzy. Surely this couldn't be happening. "It'll stain if it sets in."

Unheeding of the mess, the Tarnished reached up with cum-slathered hands and shrugged off his mantle, tugging at the laces of his tunic, and cast the whole thing off, leaving him shirtless, kneeling over Boc's writhing form. He was-- impossible. Every muscle perfect, chiseled from rock, noble of form. Face smeared with cum, soaking his hair to his scalp. And he returned his hands to Boc's shaft, tugging and stroking, intently feeling across every gnarl and ridge, every fat fold of bloated flesh across Boc's nightmare of a cock.

"Boc," he said, leaning in again. "I think you're beautiful." He pressed a kiss to Boc's neck, and hardly had to move his head at all to kiss his cockhead, slick and wet, moaning as he opened wide and tried to suck the entire thing into his mouth.

Boc keened, hips jerking -- horrified as he jammed his cockhead sharply into the Tarnished's mouth, making him gurgle and gag. But the Tarnished just moaned, struggling to push himself deeper, letting Boc's lumpy cockhead bash against the back of his mouth again and again until he pulled back in a slobbery mess, lips and jaw dripping with spit-thinned slime, painting thick, greasy lines down his bare chest.

"You've been so helpful," the Tarnished said, wetly sucking across the heavy prongs of Boc's dick, just under his mottled cockhead. "And maybe the only nice person I've met since I was resurrected. I wanted to do something that would help you." He licked a wet stripe down Boc's length, all the features of his face lost under the thick smear of Boc's load, smeared across his face in a frothy mess, like eggwhites, like pudding. Clotted ooze dripped from the tip of his nose, splattering across Boc's shaft, and the Tarnished just leaned in and licked it up again, swallowing thickly. "If I thought you were hiding this away--," he said, and let out a wet chuckle, groaning as he slurped up more ooze from between Boc's petal-like bristles, lower on his length. "I would've done something the moment I saw you."

The Tarnished looked up at him: head entirely drenched in slime, like he'd been daubed with wax. His hands were busy at his waist, unlacing his trousers. "Cursed, you said? Unable to be sated?" He shoved his trousers down, boots awkwardly kicked off. Inwardly Boc screamed at the mistreatment of his vestiments, but-- in the moment, he was still just dazed, staring. Even the Tarnished's manhood was perfect: demure, noble, stiff and jutting out from his crotch as he stripped himself bare. "It's been very long since I've seen sated, too. Shall we see who lasts the longest?" He rose up on his knees, towering over Boc's form, and hauled the grotesque pillar of his cock forward, pinning it between his muscular thighs, letting it gush his foul issue against the curve of his ass. He slid down, bracing himself, and his head tipped back, moaning wantonly, as Boc's cocktip kissed against his asshole, gushing a fresh spray of rank, slimy preseed all across his bare skin.

"Oh, Boc," his Lord said, looking down at him with an eager grin. "You're perfect."

i am going to preface this with this doesn't actually get to the sex scene b/c i didn't want this to be like 5000 words. but this is likely one i'll expand and post to ao3 so, you know.

---

The Genophage Amelioration Plan involved human hosts, which Vega was still a little freaked out about. Egg implantation in a genophage-ravaged womb was harder to resolve than repairing genophage-ravaged balls. There were a whole host of hormone synthesis problems that the scientists involved in the project hadn't been able to fix for female Krogans yet. But. There was a pilot program that neatly sidestepped the whole problem by giving gene therapy to other species.

That had been a weird little curiosity, some piece of information that had been safely removed as just a part of the galactic news cycle, until he'd seen Shephard waddling around, hugely pregnant, with Wrex and Grunt hanging off his every ache and pain. He was pregnant with a whole litter of Krogan kids. Both of their kids at once. The eggs were all implanted anyway; Shephard was effectively a surrogate. But, uh. With his relationship with the two Krogan, Vega knew they'd undoubtably done the, ah, fertilization the old way.

He'd, uh. Shephard was cool, okay? He was heroic and brave and basically a galactic hero even before he actually saved the galaxy. And if Vega had jerked off more than a few times to Shephard, and then also a whole hell of a lot more to the thought of him being the meat in a Krogan sandwich, well. That was just his own business, alright?

Then Shephard put out some ads. Well. Educational material about the genophage cure project, as well as announcing a fund for people going through it. Interviews. And, holy shit, this was gonna give a generation of kids a Krogan breeding fetish. The big galactic hero, sandwiched between his two boyfriends, looking at them adoringly; the both of them rubbing his hugely pregnant belly, smiling at him dopily; Wrex wryly talking about this just being the first batch; Grunt clearly getting some scripted part where he talked about the science behind the implantation and stumbling through it and then clearly going off-script to talk about how good Shephard felt, stopping maybe two words before it got incredibly pornographic. The shit was already basically fetish porn. They had shots of Shephard's bare belly, hugely pregnant, catching a kick that sent his skin wobbling, glossy stretch marks across his sides catching the light.

Vega wasn't gonna lie. He'd thought about it sometimes. What it would be like, to, y'know. Get plowed hard by a Krogan. By a dozen Krogan. Get used as a breeding bitch. He'd taken a Krogan dick before, once or twice, since-- since he got fucked by a lot of different kinds of aliens. He'd also thought about actually biting the bullet and getting knocked up with Krogan kids. Wrex and Grunt were his friends too. But the setup where he'd take some gene therapy pills for a few months and then go to a clinic to get a pre-mixed batch of eggs pipetted up his ass didn't really do it, fantasy-wise. He preferred getting fucked hard.

And it wasn't like he was gonna tell anybody about any of that, because despite his reputation he wasn't fucking crazy. But. One day Wrex just kind of appeared in his quarters.

"What the fuck?" Vega said, brows furrowed. Not angry, but definitely not happy to find Wrex loitering in his bedroom like he belonged there.

"I got a proposition for you," Wrex said. "Since you love being a slut for alien dick."

"What the fuck?!" Vega said, reflexively. "Where you get off coming in here and--"

Wrex cut him off, arching his brow ridges. "I think we both know what you like," he said, lips curling into a bit of a sneer. "Shephard had to cover up three separate scandals of video of one of your gangbangs getting leaked. 'Hotshot M7 agent found in a sling in a slum bar, begging for alien dick'. Not a good look for the program."

While Vega was still boggling at that, Wrex continued: "Y'know, I got a squad of guys, off duty in a few months. Really looking forward to the comforts of home, if you get what I'm saying. First time being back and able to breed. I was thinking I'd set up a little treat for them. I just need some holes for them to use. Or maybe one hole to get wrecked." He grinned down at Vega. "You think you got what it takes?"

James Vega wasn't a guy who got flustered easy. But his CO's boyfriend, saying that not only did he know about, uh, all the stuff Vega got up to off-duty, but-- asking him if he wanted to be part of some alien gangbang?! For real? He stammered.

Wrex just smirked at him. He raised a hand: paper bag. "I already scheduled everything. You wouldn't wanna let my boys down, would you?" He shoved the bag against Vega's chest and walked out, like he was totally confident he didn't have to do anything else.

Vega was hard in his pants. Fuck. Wrex didn't have to do anything else.

The paper bag contained: two standard pamphlets for prospective surrogates; the gene therapy pills, standard dose; some extra pills Wrex had marked as making him exude Krogan mating hormones, with instructions to take them a week before the scheduled date; and a hand-scrawled message on a piece of paper: the address a grimy dive bar, with a date and a time. Four months from now.

The next day, the conversation with Wrex felt like a bizarre dream he had, save for the paper bag was still in his bathroom. Vega popped the a blister-pack and swallowed the first pill.

---

Wrex didn't say anything about it directly. He just gave Vega looks some time. Once he asked if he was keeping up with his medication, and Vega's flustered, stammering response clearly answered it. It was one thing to beg for Krogan dick in the back of a bar, surrounded by hard cocks. It was another in full uniform, Wrex just idly shifting to the side in the shuttle before casually asking.

The big change happened when he started taking the Krogan heat compounds. Wrex noticed. Grunt noticed. Hell, random Krogan in the street noticed, visibly double-taking, inhaling deep and snuffling until they realized where the smell was coming from. Vega was so fucking horny he thought about just picking one and dragging them to any out-of-the-way spot and riding their dick right there. He was a fucking mess.

Wrex pinned him against a wall, eyes wild. He growled, low and buzzing. "Fuck, you smell good. Fertile. If I wasn't with Shephard, I'd be joining my boys. Watching you swell up as I bust a load right in your womb." He jerked back, breathing hard, huffing on Vega's heat-scent. ""

He was used to begging for cock from random strangers, not from his fucking squadmates. He still thought about it: dropping to his knees right there, begging Wrex to be the first one to breed him. Fuck, he needed to get bred. The days until the gangbang crawled forward.

Finally. The night of. Vega had been fucking himself with a giant fucking Krogan-imitation dildo for weeks. He was too fucking fertile to take any real dicks; the cum would last long enough inside him to fertilize the eggs. So he was reduced to riding bigger and bigger dildos, sweaty and flushed all the time, cock cumming totally untouched. He needed to be ready to get fucked for literally the entire night.

Vega felt woozy when he finally headed down. Big elevator, then shuttle ride, then back-alleys until he got to the place. 'The Bloated Quad', no surprise what kind of clintete the bar expected. He'd actually been there once before, months ago. When he was first thinking about getitng knocked up by Krogan cocks.

Stepping inside, and the bartender just leered at him and pointed to the back. He didn't even need to say anything; the heat-stink that followed him said everything that needed to be said. Vega was here to get bred hard.

In the back was the first time he got to see who'd be breeding him: one of the squads of the 82nd division. A wall of huge Krogan muscle, half of them already stripped out of their armor, two already stripped naked in anticipation. Vega couldn't tear his eyes off their quads: sagging down to their knees, leathery skin with a sweaty sheen, balls churning. Slimy ooze already drizzling from their hooded cocks.

There was a general murmur as he stepped in: "Fuck he smells good,"; one Krogan slapping one of the naked ones on the shoulder: "Don't bust before ya even get to shove it in," he guffawed. "Gonna be a waste of that load you've been saving." "You think he's up to it? Looks pretty delicate. I kept saying I wanted it to be a Vorcha." "Nobody else wants Vorcha fangs near their dick. You seen the vid of him taking an Elcor dick? He's durable."

Wrex had showed them the videos, apparently. Vega flushed, hot under their gaze.

Wrex was there, too. "Last thing," he said, stepping forward. "Strip."

He'd been naked in front of Wrex before. Showers, whatever. He'd never been naked in front of Wrex, with Wrex fully armored. Vega was hard and dripping, reeking of Krogan heat, dazed and so fucking desperate. Wrex touched his side and he moaned, wanton, pressing himself back into the touch, hard dick letting out a messy spurt of pre.

Wrex just laughed. "Save it for my boys. I got plenty of kids coming."

His hand slid around, one giant thumb digging into his asshole, spreading him open. Vega was fucking self-lubricating now, heat glands swollen, squirting out a foamy trickle of slick fluid, sending the heavy reek of heat into overdrive. There was a low murmur of groans from the assembled Krogan. The dicks on display were getting hard, leathery foreskins peeling back, bunching up like fat sheaths above their lurid quads. There was the slide of mesh being peeled away, the clang of armor pieces being set down.

Wrex pushed, sliding something thin and long, lubed, sliding into his ass. Then a wet splurt inside him. "Two dozen Krogan eggs," he said, sliding the pipette out. "Fresh and ready to be fertilized." He roared out, at the assembled Krogan: "One for each of you fuckheads! Better breed him good and deep if you don't want somebody else getting twins!" He slapped Vega on the shoulder. "Good luck. Me an' Grunt'll be jerking off watching the video."

With that he walked out, leaving Vega alone with two dozen pent-up, horny-as-hell Krogan commandos.

this ended up being more quad worship than slitfucking but there is some slitfucking in there. also i have never played a mass effect game and didn't bother looking up any canon details for this, rip.

---

Shephard was more than a little buzzed, which was the only reason why he let it slip. "I always wondered what a Krogan quad was like," he said, apropos of nothing, and next to him at the bar, Wrex just blinked at him for a second before letting out a guffaw.

"Not your quad," he continued, already feeling like the situation was getting away from him. "Just, Krogan quads. In general. Seems like it'd be-- a lot. Like. Big." He shut his mouth. Maybe he was more drunk than his thought.

Wrex gave him an appraising look. "You wanna see my quads?" His hand dropped to his crotch, groping across his armor.

Shephard's gaze immediately followed Wrex's hand: giant fingers curling, clutching, around the stiff armor.

"They get all mashed together in the armor," Wrex said, adjusting, shifting. "Definitely gotta let 'em breathe. C'mon," he said, standing, and hypnotically Shephard followed him, head spinning.

Wrex let them to the back, a dimly-lit utility passage behind the bar. He peeled the mesh away from his sides and shoved a hand down inside, visibly groping and rearranging something at his crotch. Then: he pulled his hand out and grabbed Shephard's hand, fingers hot and slightly damp, and guided them into the seam in his armor.

"C'mon, you're the big Commander Shephard, fearless and everything." Wrex leered at him. "Give my quad a squeeze." Wrex brought his hand in, hot and tight inside his armor, flesh leathery. Wrex guided him down, jerking them together, chest-to-chest, as Wrex curled his Shephard's hand around a-- bulging swell, dense. Something hard and oblong shifted against his hands, skin folding across his palm, and Shephard followed the motion, fingers dragging against Wrex's hot skin.

"Easy there," Wrex said, and, eyes focusing, Shephard realized he was face-to-face with Wrex, expression slack as he felt out across his bloated quad. Flesh shuddered against Shephard's palm, skin furrowing, and he flexed his fingers, catching a fold of flesh -- and Wrex jerked his hand back, spilling out into the open. He let out a shaky exhale, noise apparently pretty clear to Wrex if the look he shot him was anything to go on.

"Can I--" he started, and Wrex cut him off:

"No way. We're going back to my quarters. I don't need the news blaring tomorrow morning that Commander Shephard is a needy quad-slut after he was found slurping on some fat nuts behind a bar." Wrex gave him a look: "No matter how true it might be."

Shephard felt dazed, flushed and hot the whole time they were headed back: cock stubbornly hard in his pants, fingers burning where they'd been fleetingly pressed against the supple, leathery flesh of Wrex's sac.

Wrex didn't waste any time when they got to his quarters, just peeled himself out of his armor, easy: breastplate coming off as one chunk, flexible mesh tearing apart across his hips and thighs, until with a long shred Wrex tossed his crotchplate aside, letting his giant, sagging sac spill out into the open.

Wrex's balls were immense. His sac spilled down to his knees, loose flesh stretched, sac bottom-heavy with his balls piled in. Each one was a curving, oblong mound, and with four of them lolling aroud in his heavy, low-hanging sac they formed a bulging, lumpy mess. They lolled against each other, forming a lopsided tetrahedron, two upper ones loosely balanced on top of the bottom two. His balls stole the show. No dick to get in the way: instead of some kind of human-like dick, or even a sheath, he just had vent lips at the apex of his sac: fat and swollen, lips tugged open from his sac shifting. Waxy and reptilian, mounded out in a stiff peak.

Shephard fell to his knees with a thump, hands reaching out. Each ball was so huge it took both hands to even attempt to hold one, burning hot cradled in his hands, but with all four balls squirming and lurching it was nearly impossible to get a grip on one to begin with.

Wrex snorted above him as Shephard leaned in, mouth sliding over the smooth swell of his balls, hands tugging and kneading. "Wouldn't take you for a ball-slut," Wrex said, low and smug, and Shephard pulled back, sputtering.

"Wasn't a complaint," Wrex said, hand on his shoulder pulling him back, mashing his face back against Wrex's gigantic, leathery ballsac, smearing his own spit across his face. "Keep sucking."

Wrex groaned, hand pressing harder on the back of Shephard's head, sinking his face into his leathery sac: a giant ball thudding against his chin, two more bracketing his cheeks, the final one lumpy against his forehead, nose mashed flat against his dense flesh. He could feel cords shift inside, squirming like snakes, bundled together in mazy folds. Shephard slurped and sucked, wetly slobbering against a fold of heavy, spicy flesh he sucked into his mouth, just drooling all down Wrex's massive sac.

"You're like all those Krogan women desperate for me to sire their kids," Wrex said, with a snort. "Needy little quad-sluts all of 'em." He let out a huff of breath. "Lot nicer to see you worshipping my sac, though."

Shephard pulled back enough to gasp for breath, nose clogged with the spicy reek of Krogan balls. His cock shuddered in his pants, rock hard, and he fumbled across his belt, jerking his dick out without pulling himself away from being sunk into Wrex's massive quad.

Wrex was dripping, sloppy pre practically pouring out of his swollen vent, drooling over his lips and pouring down his sac in a slimy mess. Stringy cords of pre drizzled across Shephard's hair, dripping down his face, rank and meaty when his tongue dragged across the lines spilling down Wrex's sac. There was a bitter aftertaste, setting in whenever he stopped catching the fresh runnels spilling down Wrex's sagging quad. Shephard groaned, tongue lapping over his skin, tracing the taste up to his swollen vent, both hands still at work curling around his massive balls.

Shephard rose up, cock digging into the underside of Wrex's quad, mouth sliding up to sloppily kiss his spread vent and gulp down mouthfuls of pre fresh from the source.

Wrex let out a craggy laugh, spreading his legs. His slit parted, just dusky red flesh inside, no sign of his dick dropping yet. "You got some presumptions, huh? You think you can really just stick it in?" He snorted and hauled Shephard up, pulling him into a messy kiss. The size of a Krogan jaw meant his open mouth half-enveloped Shephard's head, his tongue just slapped across Shephard's face, splattering him in drool. Shephard's dick jabbed against Wrex's sac, sliding up his slimy flesh until his cockhead pressed against his splayed vent, and Wrex just groaned across Shephard's face, hips jerking up to slam the full length of Shephard's dick into his open vent. His cockhead mashed against a broad, rubbery wall, the turgid swell of Wrex's giant Krogan cockhead, still sunk inside him. Wrex's hand slid down his back, fingers gripping his hip, and he readjusted his body, jerking their hips together so they were pressed pelvis-to-pelvis, the entire length of Shephard's dick sunk into his vent.

Wrex snorted, rollng his hips, fucking himself on Shephard's dick. "Decent enough prick for a softskin." Wrex's cock lurched inside his vent, an implacable wall of flesh that shoved Shephard's dick out as he started to drop down. Wrex just snorted, smirking as Shephard thrust less and less deeply, cock bashing against the broad flare of his cockhead, slipping down to the side to dig into the gristled rim. Wrex groaned, bearing down harder, and with a sudden spang Wrex's cock shoved past Shephard's, pinning his dick against the wall of his vent, sandwiched against the side of his shaft. They both groaned, Shephard hips lurching forward, sinking the full length of his cock against the hot, slick side of Wrex's gnarled Krogan shaft.

A sloppy mess of churned-up pre gurgled out of Wrex's vent, lips mounded out over the growing swell of Wrex's dropping cock, flexing and spreading in anticipation. Shephard groaned, forehead pressed against Wrex's chest, eyes squeezed shut tight, and he came with a bellowing moan, cock squirting out his load into Wrex's overstuffed vent, just before Wrex's cock burst out into the open, slimed with their combined fluids, knocking Shephard back on his ass, still-spurting cock jerking out with a pop as Wrex's collossal dick spilled out into the open: a mess of lobed chambers, cockhead a lumpy, figure-eight flare that flexed and spread right in front of Shephard's face.

A fresh spurt of pre lanced out, splattering all across Shephard's face, and Wrex lurched to his feet, grinning down at him.

"That was a decent warmup. Hope you're ready for what you got yourself into, 'cause this ain't over until this thing is back in its vent. Better hope you can take a Krogan dick." He grinned, milking his cock, fingers slopping into his vent to milk out messy squirts of Shephard's loud, spilling down his shaft in a mess of ooze. "Don't worry. I'll open you up good."

surprise its hulk again! i thought about like, past thanos or something but that would require me to do any research at all about timelines in the mcu

---

Hulk's guts bunched around his shaft, forming a rubbery ring before his cockhead bashed through the latest twist, popping in somewhere still deeper inside the big guy's body. Hulk let out a croon, fingers scrabbling on the ground, and as Rocket sawed back and forth, lurching his bloated cocktip through the latest shuddering ring, Hulk explosively came all over himself again: cock bursting beneath him, the wet crack of each shot hitting his cum-bloated belly and rebounding back all over himself loud even over Hulk's continual groans and croons. The way his loose, fucked-open guts clamped down around his dick wasn't bad either.

The metallic crash of a door swinging open momentarily dragged Rocket's attention up from where it was all focused on the way Hulk's giant, gaped asshole was rippling around the base of his shaft. He was fucking Hulk in the middle of the gym. Everybody else had cleared out. Rocket wasn't exactly a gymnast here, but he'd known where Hulk would be. Thor stood in the doorway, taking in the scene: Hulk sprawled out on his cum-bloated belly, sobbing and crooning as he rocked himself back against Rocket's dick; Rocket himself perched across Hulk's giant muscle ass, hands and feet digging into his flesh as he rocked inside.

He'd woken up horny and decided, fuck it, why not fuck the Hulk. He never got to really drain his balls; even the really durable guys tended to give up or lose consciousness around the start of load three. Hulk was... well, Hulk was real fucking durable. Rocket was working his way up to his tenth load of the day. He figured he could take a breather after a dozen, see where he was at.

After ten loads, Hulk was a mess: slobbery bursts of churned-up raccoon cum erupted out around Rocket's shaft with each thrust, squirting out over the gaping crater of Hulk's bruised, swollen asshole, spilling all down his ass -- and making Rocket's footing even more precarious, thanks for not even being able to hold all that cum, Hulk -- and onto the floor, mixing with the frothy, faintly-glowing mess of Hulk's own loads, slathered all across his front. He hadn't been keeping track of how many times Hulk had cum all over himself. A lot more than ten times. He was a panting, moaning mess, sobbing into the ruined carpet, front entirely slathered in a grimy slurry of their combined loads. His belly was a bloated swell, cum gurgling inside him in loud rumbles, constantly fighting against Rocket's cock when he drove inside.

"Thor!" Rocket called out, only a little out of breath. "You wanna fuck his face some, big guy?" He smacked Hulk's ass, sending a shower of cum splattering out. "I've still got a few loads to go before I wanna take a break. This lunk is the only guy I've met who can take more than a few loads. Uh, no offense."

Thor took a few steps closer, eyes roving from Hulk's flushed, drooling face, over his sweaty, cum-drenched body, his own dick peeking out from beneath his swollen gut, to Rocket perched on his ass, then back. He swallowed. "Rocket." His lips curled into a grin: "The Midgardians complained." He shook his head, rueful. "Apparently they find this kind of public display distasteful."

Rocket snorted. "Tell that to Hulk, man. He's always the one starting it." All Rocket had to do was show up in the same place as Hulk and he'd immediately start demanding cock.

Thor guffawed. "Apparently Banner gets irate at being used like this."

Rocket looked down at Hulk, brow furrowing: "Banner's the one begging for my dick. What about it, Hulk? You want more?"

Hulk's bleary gaze focused, dimly tracing across Thor and twisting back to hazily focus on Rocket. "Stop talking about Dumb Other Man!" he demanded. "Give Hulk more cock!"

He'd been more vocal to start. After the fifth or sixth load he'd mostly just resorted to low groans and sobs.

"Lightning Man needs to feed Hulk his puny cock!" Hulk roared, slamming a fist to the floor with enough force to crack the concrete, leaving behind a weird dent under the ragged carpet.

Thor pushed his tunic up, hauling on the laces of his trousers, and Hulk was already hungrily reaching out, a hand curling around Thor's waist the moment he got in reach, so he could haul him forward and mash his chiseled face against Thor's crotch, slobbering all across his crotch before Thor hauled his dick out, letting it spill out across Hulk's stubbled face, drizzling pre down his neck. Hulk wasted no time twisting his head, capturing Thor's cockhead between his fat lips, and slamming himself down on his length: mouth mashed against Thor's hips, his fat balls digging into his cleft chin, letting out little grumbling moans of delight at having his throat plugged. Thor wasn't that big, especially to the Hulk. But apparently he was big enough. Any cock was better than none.

Thor groaned, rocking forward, starting up a steady rhythm. He groaned: "Your throat is as fine as the sweetest courtesans in Asgard," he said, and Rocket just rolled his eyes. Hulk made a good cumdump, it was true. His technique could use some work. He was just too desperate for cum. Already Hulk was slobbering all down Thor's dick, tongue lolling from his mouth, muffled grunts and hoots working up his throat as Thor curled his hands around his head, guiding him forward.

Hulk's guts rippled around his dick. Not that he was a bad hole. Just a little over-eager. Rocket thrust into him, smacking the final foot of his dick back and forth, feeling his cockhead batter against a fresh loop of his guts, shaft lurching through the rubbery, wrinkled-up mess loosely gripping his dick. Hulk was slick and sloppy inside, guts gurgling, giant muscle ass widely spread so that Rocket could grind his sodden sheath against Hulk's huge, bloated asshole. His cockhead tapped deeper, making Hulk's swollen, pregnant-looking belly shudder, and Hulk's eyes rolled back in his skull, bellowing around Thor's cock as he came all over himself again.

Rocket rolled his eyes. That was Hulk for you. Judging by the way Thor's gaze was locked on Hulk's gushing dick, Rocket was gonna bet this was gonna end with Thor pinned under Hulk, getting plowed hard, before Rocket actually got his full dozen loads in. Well. No problem with that; he could even fuck Thor once or twice. Get something tight around his dick before switching back to Hulk's loose gape in the afternoon. Rocket could feel his orgasm sluggishly approach, building behind his hips as he bashed his balls against Hulk's ass, slamming his cocktip deep into his giant body. He definitely didn't regret coming to Earth.

"Grunt is gonna need to fuck somebody soon," was how Wrex introduced the question, balls deep inside Shephard. "Was thinking of giving him a crack at your ass."

"What--" Shephard started, and Wrex cut him off with a particularly strong thrust, knocking the breath out of his lungs with a heavy whoof. His lumpy flare flexed inside, a bellows-pump slamming Shephard's diaphragm closed.

"Part of getting him into Clan Urdnot," Wrex said. "One of those tests of manhood. Traditionally they're supposed to wrestle for it, but..." He smacked Shephard's ass. "I figure nobody'd mind if I bent the rules a little."

"Good of you to ask me," Shephard said, a little sharply.

Wrex just snorted and plowed into him again, sloppily rutting the final foot of his dick into Shephard's gaped, squirting asshole. "You think I gotta? I know you'll roll over for any Krogan dick you can get. I see how you look at him in the showers." Wrex gripped Shephard's waist, leaning forward to slam every inch of his dick into Shephard's ass, thrusts coming faster and harder.

He snarled, tongue lapping out to swipe up Shephard's back, and came with a guttural roar to challenge any battle cry he'd ever made. His cock lurched, flare snapping wide, entire shaft shuddering as he erupted with his third load of the day into Shephard's flooded guts, his bruised asshole just slack and puffy at this point, wetly pouting around the flexing root of his cock. Shephard's bloated stomach, sloshing with cum, gurgled as it sagged lower.

"Plus," he said, leaning in close, grinning at the way his cock squelched, a few inches jerking out coated in thick, slimy Krogan cum, more oozing down to drench his quad, totally cocooning Shephard's balls and spilling down his own hard shaft. "The genetic engineering wasn't all muscle tone and bone density. The kid's hung bigger than me. A lot bigger."

Shephard's eyes rolled back into his skull, guts clamping rhythmically around Wrex's cock. A sobbing moan ripped its way up his throat, and he came untouched, load splattering down onto the bedsheets.

Wrex just grinned down at him, sluggishly working his sloppy, slime-drenched cock through Shephard's well-used ass, watching his face go slack, expression dazed, as his cock shuddered inside him, still cumming strong. "See? Knew you'd see it my way." He clapped a hand across Shephard's ass, dragging him back flush against his sheath with a messy splat of cum bursting out of him, splattering all up Wrex's stomach and over his thighs. "Now get back to work; I got a few more loads to go before I'm drained."

---

Grunt was just as up-front about things as Wrex had been. He probably got coaching. "I'm gonna fuck you tonight," he said one evening, as the squad dispanded, just-barely out of earshot from anybody else.

Shephard blinked, taken aback.

"I cleared it with Wrex," he continued, like that was the problem. "Good of you to offer yourself up."

"...Yeah," Shephard said. "Looking forward to it." He was.

The minute Shephard stepped into his quarters, Wrex was there to shove him up against a wall, violently kissing him. Wrex stripped Shephard's clothes off, leaving him bare-ass naked, legs curled around Wrex's hips as Wrex carried him through the doorway into his bedroom, where Grunt was waiting. Grunt was already naked; Wrex still had the lower portions of his armor on. He tossed Shephard forward, letting Grunt catch him, before stripping the rest of the way.

Wrex was hung for a Krogan, which meant his cock was thicker around than Shephard's thigh. Unsheathed and limp, his cockhead dangled down below his knees, and hard it spanned nearly up to his mouth. It was colossal. Grunt--

Well, for one, Shephard had been staring at Grunt in the showers. Krogan quads were half-embedded inside them, four mounded fist-sized lumps jutting out beneath their sheaths. Wrex was hung; his quads were big and bulky, and needed both of Shephard's fists to cover each one. Grunt was-- he had a sac, quads too big to actually fit in his body. They were like melons. They spilled out of their housing in his pelvis, hanging down between his knees in a big lopsided sac. For a Krogan, that was a medical condition.

Grunt was standing there, naked, giant sac furrowing and churning between his legs, dick already spilling out of him in anticipation. Shephard just stared, aware he must be making some kind of expression -- eyes bugging out? -- as more and more and more turgid, rubbery cock spilled from Grunt's sheath. His cockhead slapped against his knee, shaft bending for a moment in a arch before it lurched down further, leaving behind glossy smears across his hide. It sluggishly dropped down between his legs, cockhead swaying, lurching lower, lower. It had to stop before it touched the floor. That was just absurd. There was no way it was literally as long as one of Grunt's legs.

Grunt had to catch it to keep his cockhead from hitting the floor. He held his dick with both hands, straining against its bulk, grasping it like he was wrestling a snake. How could all of that fit inside his body?!

Then he started to actually get hard, and he stopped having to hold his dick up. It lurched forward, its rubbery arch slowly straightening, until it jutted out from his body at a shallow angle, dragged down by its own immense weight. If the thing went in Shephard's ass it would be coming out his throat. The thing was literally more than half Shephard's height in length, and -- as it fattened up, getting fully hard -- impossibly thick, like, closer to being a barstool than anything he'd ever tried fitting up his ass.

"Grunt-- How--" was all Shephard could manage, staring.

"I think Okeer was a pervert," Wrex said. "A dick that big's just impractical. No reason to give his genetically-perfect supersolider some quads like that, a dick like that, unless he really liked the idea of it." He leered at Shephard: "Just think how hard it'll be to cram that in anywhere. How stretched-out that hole is gonna be. Good thing I've been opening you up for months or else we'd have no chance of that thing fitting in you."

Wrex and Grunt both looked at him. "Well, get to work," Wrex said. He snorted: "Maybe start by giving it a kiss."

Shephard stumbled forward, dropping to his knees in front of Grunt's dick. His cockhead was nearly the size of Shephard's head. Maybe more, from the uneven, double-circle flare, wetly flexing in anticipation. Shephard leaned in, open-mouthed, and licked a messy stripe across the firm, bloated flesh of Grunt's cocktip.

Grunt groaned, and the whole length of his cock rippled. It spat a fountaining eruption of pre all across Shephard's head, drenching his face in a slimy layer of gummy ooze. Tendrils stretched from his jaw and splattered to the ground in globs.

"Fuck yeah," Wrex said from behind him. His hands slid across Shephard's hips, raising him up, and it wasn't until Wrex's cockhead actually sunk into his ass that Shephard realized what was happening: spitroast between the two Krogan, face mashed against Grunt's drooling cock, Wrex casually sliding his entire gigantic cock up Shephard's well-used ass.

"Gonna open him up for you," Wrex said to Grunt, over Shephard's head. "Fuck his face some."

There was no way Grunt's dick was fitting in his mouth. Grunt smeared his cockhead across Shephard's face, bashing him with the ridge of his fluttering flare, using its heavy, rubbery edge to scrape his slimy pre back and forth across Shephard's dripping face. Shephard cupped his shaft with both hands, fingers curling against the softer flesh just under his cockhead, and just tried to lap and suck across his cocktip: mouth flooded with rank Krogan pre, skin wet and dripping, Grunt thrusting and lurching erratically. Wrex slamming his leg-thick cock into his ass-- that was just warmup for taking this behemoth.

"Don't worry," Wrex said, in his ear, smug. "We'll make sure it'll fit. He'll be coring you open with the whole thing by dawn."