let it leave me like a long breath

i used a mashup of the ff8 & ff7r designs for ifrit here. ff7 ifrit is just like, a big yellow dude with horns. i also went for more of an, ifrit powerbottoming thing b/c that's more where my mind went with "more than he expected"

---

Barret was at the edge of town, in a dirty lull in the grassland that sufficed as a shooting range. Not a lot of demand for gun stores in the resort town, it turned out. It was just him and a bunch of ratty sackcloth targets in front of a big earth berm. Everybody else was out on the beach, relaxing. He'd been feeling antsy.

Barret held up the new materia in his fingers, watching the way the sun shone through it, refracting ruby light all up his arm. They hadn't got a chance to use it yet, and Barret new if they waited much longer it's vanish into Yuffie's stash of "lost" materia, never to see the light of day.

"Well," he said to himself. "Let's see what you got, huh?" Magic sparked through the materia, making it glow bright, and then with a plume of fire that had Barret scrambling back, air scorching his face, a hugely-muscular humanoid form burst into existence, floating it midair. It solidified out of pure flame, muscles creaking as it settled down under its own weight, head already casting back and forth for its target.

The summon stood almost half-again his height, even with it slumped forward in an animal slouch. Arcing over its head was a pair of huge, backwards-curving horns set in its craggy brow, half-buried in the mane of shaggy red hair that framed its head. The skin on its chest was dusky brown, more like animal hide than human skin, but across its arms and legs, over its back, the hide was covered in something almost like rocky scales: craggy and rough, each scale outlined with by glowing veins of fire, like molten lava under its skin.

It was naked save for heavy guards on its wrists and ankles, and also a draping loincloth that hid absolutely nothing. The summon shifted around, snuffling the air, and Barret got an eyeful of its huge, low-hanging balls -- flesh there so dark as to be almost black -- lurching like an anchor beneath it, sac slapping against its -- his -- thigh, loudly.

"New summoner," he said, voice a deep, rough rasp, like crackling fire. "I see." Its lips twisted up into a fierce grin, showing off huge, animal fangs. "Then I will take my toll of you."

Barret swore and stumbled back, tripping over his heels as the summon loomed over him, questing closer. His face was mostly human but just animal enough to be unsettling: ears drawn out into furry points, large nose faintly squashed forward in a faint muzzle, open mouth a mess of fangs. Its dick was... less human. A leathery sheath jutted out over the draping fold of his loincloth, tip already slick and shiny. Muscles across its bare stomach shifted, huge abs clenching into sharp relief, and a pointy cocktip lurched out, glowing like a piece of red-hot metal.

"Aww, hell no!" Barret cursed, scrambling back. "There ain't no way that's goin' in me, man!"

The summon just laughed, a dry bark. "You think you're worthy of my cock? No, no."

"What th' fu--mmph!" Barret started, cut off when the summon's huge hand caught him by the face, fingers curling around his head. It shoved him down, pinning him flat on his back, blue sky bright overhead. Then its grip shifted downwards, rough palm dragging over his chest, down his stomach, before it shoved two fingers between his legs, palm grinding against his crotch. His fingers tugged, light, and the sound of tearing fabric, the summon torn Barret's pants from hip to knee. Barret gawped up at him as his cock lolled out across his thigh, suddenly bared.

The summon looked down too, intensely focused on Barret's cock. "Yes," he growled. "This will do nicely."

Barret stared on, bug-eyed, as the summon settled down before at him: on all fours over his calves, mouth open, long, pointed tongue spilling from his mouth. His tongue twisted, prehensile, to wrap around his cock, slick and hot. "I need you to breed me," the summon said, voice gurgling around Barret's dick.

"Holy shit," Barret said. His dick shuddered, flexing against the tight clench of the summon's tongue. He shuddered to life, cock fattening in the monster's mouth, stretching against the curl of his tongue. His foreskin, sloppy with spit, peeled back over his bare cockhead and practically sent his bare cockhead popping out in the open, just-barely cresting past the spiral of the summon's tongue. The beast groaned, mouth rumbling around Barret's dick. Pre that was working its way up his shaft sharply squirted out into his yawning-wide mouth, milked free in a slimy gush from the tight, muscular ripples of his coaxing tongue.

His tongue twisted around and around, corkscrewing up his cock from the hairy base all the way to the flushed tip, completely immersing his dick in pulsing heat, and Barret groaned, hunching up, messily fucking the summon's mouth. His dick hardened quick: over a foot of thick cock, flesh dark and coarse with squiggling veins creeping up the lower half. His revealed cockhead, spit-shined from the summon's tongue, was a rich purple-black, cocklips splayed to let him gush out a messy streamer of pre across the monster's face. The summon groaned, tongue lapping the string out of the air, hungrily smacking his lips as he swallowed it down and then went back for more: lips curling around his cocktip, just milking it for the next gush of pre. His tongue squirmed from his mouth, coiling down to wrap around the base of his shaft and squeeze: forcing his whole cock to bloat out fatter, rock-hard with trapped blood.

The summon pulled free with a messy squelch, leaving Barret's dick bobbing in the air, slick and shining, fresh pre coursing down its length in slimy cords. Barret didn't even have time to push himself up on his elbows before the summon was squatting over him, feet planted on either side of his chest, as he settled down onto his cock.

His cockhead pressed against the hot furrow of the summon's asshole, digging in between his muscled asscheeks. Barret gasped for breath, the heat rising off the beast so intense it almost burned. His entire body broke out in sweat. His cockhead smacked against the beast's hole and slid into place, digging into the heavy, puffy ridges of the summon's asshole, fluttering slightly as it bore down. With an intense spike of sensation, heat rippling out from his cock and filling every inch of his body, his cock stabbed through the clenching ring of his asshole into the summon's ass. Barret let out a sharp groan, hips bucking up to drive himself deeper, and was a little surprised his breath didn't come out steaming. His whole body felt sizzling hot.

Above him, the huge beast groaned, head tipped back. With the size difference -- Barret wasn't gonna lie. He was hung. His cock was enormous. But compared to the huge beast in front of him, it was scarcely more than a finger. The summon bore down, thighs flexing, his own enormous balls smacking against Barret's stomach and lolling to the side. His cock, unsheathed, was a complete nightmare: leg-thick, glossy red flesh, all covered in fat, bulging lumps all down the inhuman length. It bobbed in front of him, tip drooling out slimy spurts of off-white pre, pouring down syrupy and hot across Barret's front.

The summon hilted on Barret's cock, his entire length throbbing inside him, fat cockhead bumping up against the walls of his ass, and the summon leaned back with a groan, using one hand to steady himself as he fucked himself down onto Barret's length, angling his hips. Barret jerked up, hips sending his cock thumping along the summon's inner walls before they crashed into his prostate with a heavy lurch. The beast groaned, throwing his head back, and his cock shuddered and flexed, erupting in a huge plume of grimy, yellow-white pre that splattered all across Barret's front. The summon roared, rumbling in his chest as he did it again: fucking down on Barret's cock, using him as a living dildo to grind across his inner walls just-so, over and over.

"Oh fuck," Barret groaned, eyes squeezed shut tight, hand gripping the summon's knee as he uselessly humped upward, fucking his cock an iota deeper when he slammed down hard, over and over. His balls throbbed, pre gushing up his length and erupting into the beast's ass, making each thrust slicker, sloppier.

The summon's colossal cock bobbed in front of him, red-hot and steaming, spattering fat, slimy globs of pre down across Barret's front as the summon rode him. He snarled and snorted as he fucked himself on Barret's dick, huge muscle ass slamming down on his shaft, giant balls spilling out up Barret's chest each time he hilted, impact getting wetter and wetter as his sludgy pre oozed out across his sac. Thick, glimmering strings of pre webbed between them, oozing down his shaft, hooking between his widely-spread thighs, gurgling down between Barret's legs to sheen his own cock in slime, adding to the slick pressure of his enormous asshole rolling back and forth along his shaft, pressure as strong as a handjob.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Barret groaned, mindlessly humping up, cockhead slamming hard and intense into the huge beast above him. His balls ached, the sloppy slide of his cockhead against his slick inner walls building and building, and he came with a bellowing cry, cock lurching hard as he gushed out his load into the huge monster ass. The beast kept riding him through it, snarling himself, and the pulsing ring of his asshole coaxed out gush after gush of cum, until the excess squirted from his ass, spilling down Barret's length in slimy cords. His ass clenched, the tight squeeze getting so tight it hurt, making his cock swell inside him, and then with a earth-shaking roar, breath coming out as burning fire, the beast came too: his cock erupted with a huge lance of yellowed cum, glowing intensely even in the brightness of the day. It gushed out entirely over Barret's head, loudly impacting the ground past him with a sharp splat, and then his cock jerked again, and again, and again, spewing out huge, glowing plumes of sludgy monster cum. Excess spilled down his length, dripping in fat, creamy globs across Barret's front, staining his jacket in greasy splotches and soaking through his undershirt. Barret just groaned, hips still jerking uselessly, stirring his cock inside the monster's clenching ass.

The summon leaned forward, knees crashing to the ground on either side of Barret's head, monster cock smacking down against him from stomach to hairline, splattering his face with oozing streamers of cum, and in a fraction of a second before Barret could splutter and shove his dick aside the summon vanished in a plume of flame: body bursting apart into clouds of fire, billowing up away from him and leaving Barret lying there on his back. His clothes were in tatters, his cock was jutting from his crotch still half-hard, front entirely drenched in stringy, acrid monster cum.

"Call on Ifrit any time you want," came the summon's voice. "I am eager to join with you again."

Barret took in a shaky breath, still panting. His dick shuddered, spitting out a final wet spill of cum down his shaft, pooling on his stomach. "Fuck," he rasped. "Yeah, fuck, why not."

it'ssss hulk and rocket again!

---


Hulk's lips nursed Rocket's cocktip. His tongue traced over the lumpy folds of his animal cockhead, feeling across his sensitive flesh, and Rocket groaned low, cock shuddering and letting loose a messy spurt of acrid, watery pre across the roof of Hulk's mouth. Hulk gurgled happily, tongue immediately focusing in on Rocket's sensitive spots: tracing over the ridge of his cockhead, digging down against the underside of his shaft, hungrily gulping when his efforts rewarded him with another mouthful of gamey racoon pre. His lips slurped around Rocket's cocktip, dragging slick and hot as he tried to take in more of Rocket's dick, and Rocket decided to reward him, hunching forward and sending his cocktip ramming against the back of his throat. Hulk was great at taking cock; he just tipped his head back and swallowed, throat effortlessly opening up. He hummed in delight, lips slurping along Rocket's slick shaft, throat milking the tip, letting each fresh spurt of pre lube his throat further, pouring straight down into his stomach.

Hulk's own dick was spilling up across his belly, steadily leaking green-tinged pre all over his chiseled abs, but Hulk wasn't paying any attention to that. He was too focused on the dick in front of him: tongue laving across slimy flesh, throat squeezing. A messy burble of pre built up across his lips, frothy and scummy, as Rocket shallowly thrust deeper, probing into his throat. It was real nice to see his throat swell: muscled neck stretching wider as Rocket's colossal cock opened him up. Hulk wasn't the most skilled cocksucker Rocket had used, but between the size and the sheer enthusiasm it was sure as hell easier to hilt inside Hulk than anybody else. Just the thought of what was coming -- Rocket's sheath grinding against Hulk's flushed, disheveled face while he choked on his load -- made his cock shudder and pulse, spewing thick, heavy bursts of pre into Hulk's throat. He drank them down in big glugging gulps, keening softly, perpetually hungry for more. Rocket fed him more, steady thrusts probing deeper, fucking his gnarled cockhead deeper and deeper down his throat. There was a little hitch when his cockhead popped under his collarbone, some ring in the smooth muscle of his throat; Hulk choked a little, wetly gagging, and the next gush of Rocket's pre squirted up his pulsing shaft to erupt in a grimy wash, splattering across Hulk's upturned face and dripping down to the pavement below.

All that, almost half his cock down Hulk's throat, and Rocket could finally inch close enough to catch Hulk's head in his hands. With a dick the size he had, it was hard to get enough leverage to really thrust, or at least until he was already balls-deep inside somebody, and not a lot of guys could take him all the way. Now that Huk's face was only an arm's length away, he could just grab hold, paws curling around Hulk's ears, and hunch forward, finally able to just slam forward and sent a solid foot of cock plunging down into Hulk's gullet, solidly plugging his throat.

Hulk snorted and groaned, his own cock gushing out thick, syrupy cords of lime-colored pre all across his belly, and reached forward. One huge hand groped its way down Rocket's shaft to curl around his sheath, thumb dragging along the ropy cords filling the top of his sac, and the other found his knee first and followed it up to wrap -- entirely -- around his waist. Hulk bellowed in triumph, fingers flexing, and he jerked forward, bodily hauling Rocket forward and slamming the entire rest of his shaft straight down into his stomach, not stopping until Rocket's sheath was mashed against his sloppy, disheveled face. Rocket groaned, hips arching forward, scraping his cockhead along the inner walls of Hulk's stomach, and Hulk wetly gurgled, a slobbery mess of phelgm and pre squirting up his throat, squirting from his nose and mouth in frothy cords, soaking his sheath and drooling down his heavy sac.

Rocket's dick was bulging out Hulk's stomach, digging against the inside of his ribcage and making his whole chest spread wider. He had to admit, watching the big guy take his whole cock never really got old. Hulk's dick, huge and dark, throbbed against his swollen stomach, beating against his flesh, and Rocket could feel the vibration from inside him, beating down around his cockhead. Hulk hooted eagerly, facefucking himself on Rocket's dick: grinding his face against Rocket's balls, mouth a deformed swell of spread flesh wetly suckling against the fat root of Rocket's dick, and he came all over himself. And Rocket. The added swell of his stomach was just enough to prop his dick up, aiming it straight at Rocket's chest. Rocket cursed, smacking Hulk on the shoulder, for all the good it did him. Hulk just groaned, lost in his orgasm: throat spasming, stomach churning, hips fucking the air, as he came all over everywhere, spraying huge, syrupy cords of mutant cum everywhere. Well. It wasn't gonna be the last time. Hulk really got off on taking dick. Rocket couldn't really complain; he'd flooded more than a few rooms with his loads. Still. His fur felt grimy, soaked to his skin in clumps.

Well, if that was how Hulk wanted it. ROcket jerked back and plowed forward, grinding his sheath against his bruised lips. Hulk crooned and gurgled, sloppily gagging to add more sludge to the mess as Rocket forced the final foot-or-so of his shaft into him, back and forth, using the added slop of Hulk's load to lube his throat.

Rocket's balls shuddered, each crack against Hulk's face building the heat inside him. He fucked his face, plowing half his cock into his stomach, making his swollen gut shudder and shake. Pre gushed into him, slurping and gurgling, and his muscled belly was already starting to swell just from the pre. Well, Rocket was about to stretch him a lot more.

Rocket came with an embarassing yapping, bursting uncontrollably up from his chest, and he slammed the full length of his cock straight down Hulk's throat, letting the first blast spew straight into his stomach. Hulk gurgled, cock -- still oozing the dregs of his load -- immediately firing again, cumming just from the pleasure of getting pumped full of cum. Rocket was beyond caring about the mess, just mindlessly fucking into Hulk's throat, snarling and yapping with each heavy gush of cum that made its way up his shaft. Hulk's belly, swollen around his cock, softened out into a broad swell, spilling out to the side as it grew and grew, pumped into a fat, jiggling cushion by the sheer volume of Rocket's rank, gamey racoon cum.

Rocket peeled himself back, cock emerging sloppy and coated in a frothy mess of their mingled loads. Hulk gagged, expression dazed, cum oozing from his nose and mouth as he stared up at Rocket's cock, bobbing above him, still splattering cum all down his front.

"Already, big guy, turn around," Rocket said. "Lemme get a crack at your ass." He looked around at the wrcked city street: cars overturned, building facades shattered and crumbling, street itself broken apart into craters from Hulk's, uh, smash. He really didn't get why people got all nervous about the guy. He'd drop everything the second he got a cock in front of him.

this doesn't really get to that point but i'll probably write an extended fill at some point. trying to keep these under 2k words

also oh boy i usually don't tag for it b/c i don't do it too hard, but you know. content notice: smegma

---

Gurranq reeked like he was a beast in rut. The bestial sanctum had the tang of a den of breeding lions, and the rich incense didn't suceed at masking the smell at all, just transmuting it into something even more intense: rich and potent, cloying, something that his nose couldn't get used to at all. Gurranq's musk clogged in his nose with each visit, left him flushed and hot, needy and desperate. And that was just _him_; Gurranq himself had to live in it.

At first he'd assumed it was because D had been providing other 'services' to Gurranq beyond the weeding of deathroot, and now with his absence Gurranq was becoming... pent up. But when he'd broached the subject -- "Thy issue seeps from your wrappings. I assure you, even if you've got a horsecock hidden away in those bindings I'd be glad to service it for you"; no one had ever said he'd had a delicate touch -- it turned out it was a _vow_. Ugh. As pious and sanctified as a cleric, except he'd known plenty of randy clerics in his time. Worse.

So he'd had to endure not just the attacks of Those Who Live Among Death and their murky deathroot, but also getting cockblocked by the hottest, _neediest_ beastman he'd ever met. After the second deathroot -- Gurranq's body hot, maw slick and slimy, tongue lolling out to snatch the living deathroot from his bare hand -- the musk had gotten so heavy he'd had to lurch outside, cock stiff in his trousers, and jerk off right there with one saliva-slick hand. He hadn't been quiet about it. After three he'd abandoned his pride and outright _begged_ for it, kneeled right in front of Gurranq and pleaded to let him suck the scum off his long-neglected cock.

"My body..." Gurranq had panted, voice labored, "...is only a crucible for Death. Until I have paid for mine sin, I cannot admit the pleasures of the flesh." He shook his head, shaggy mane rustling under his wrappings. "And I will never be free of this sin. No, never."

It'd pleasure _his_ flesh if he got to suck the slime off his leaking sheath. What a hassle. At least Blaidd let him ride his knot any time he liked.

---

After the _fourth_ deathroot, something changed. Gurranq was even more ravenous than usual, shoving his entire hand into his mouth to scour every fiber of deathroot from his palm. He'd kept it up long enough -- teeth grazing his wrist, slobber frothing up his forearm, Gurranq's perpetually-swollen sheath audibly squelching and slurping as his tongue scoured across his skin -- that he was already hard and aching in his trousers. Then he finally swallowed, hand still in his mouth, tongue jogging huge and slimy. He spat out his hand and lurched to the side, swaying like he was drunk.

"Strange," he said, voice rasping, low. "There is-- something else. My appetite grows. I need-- I need more!"

That was about as usual for Gurranq's statements: all fragments of portent and prophecy. So he wasn't expecting it when he reared up, rumbling voice growing into a bestial bellow, and lunged.

His claws scythed out, catching across his ribs, and it was only him flinging himself into the motion, letting himself be thrown across the room and into a pillar that kept him from being rather messily disemboweled. He wasn't sure of Gurranq was trying to kill him or not; he wasn't sure if Gurranq knew what he was doing. He was just panting, low, hoarse, body rippling with brutal muscle spasms, breath coming out in a thick fog.

Gurranq slammed him to the ground, knocking the breath from his lungs, and knelt over him: knees against his thighs, huge clawed hands on his shoulders, cloaked head bowing down before him, teeth bared. Thick streamers of frothy drool spilled from his slavering mouth and splattered across his cheek, dripping down his face in hot streamers.

The position also shoved Gurranq's enormous, sagging balls right against his crotch. His dick had been hard since the moment he stepped inside; the heat, the weight, of Gurranq's punt-up balls draped over him was enough to force out a shaky, squeaking moan from his throat. His whole body shuddered, hips jerking, and he came in his trousers, squirming and rutting up against Gurranq, hands grasping the matted fur of his forearms, hips sending his enormous, bloated ballsac spilling up his stomach. An embarassing way to die, for sure.

Gurranq's snarl didn't stop, it just shifted. His breath spilled out hot and fetid against his head, and then his lips peeled back, showing off his gleaming fangs. He struck.

He thought they were both a little confused when he wasn't dead. Gurranq's maw, open, latched around his face, with fangs digging into his skin behind his ears. His tongue lolled free, squirming down across his face, hungrily lapping. He opened his mouth, more in surprise than anything, and Gurranq rumbled again, low, and shoved his tongue inside: plunging into his mouth, tapping against the back of his throat and then shoving down in a messy, liquid spill of frothy slobber. When he pulled back, he looked dazed: tongue lolling from his panting mouth, eyes unfocused and gloaming black-gold, and -- most importantly -- his sheath shuddering and pulsing against his stomach, furled sheathtip leaking a syrupy mess of murky pre.

"More," Gurranq groaned, hips rolling, sending his sheath dragging forward and back across his chest. "I need more!" His claws clenched again, digging deep scores in the stone, and with a single motion he grasped the front of his armor and rent it to pieces: chestplate warping out of shape, padding shredding, shards flying everywhere. His claws dug against the waist of his trousers, slicing shallow cuts down his stomach, and with another yank he tore them apart too, baring him from chest to knee. His cock, still stiff and slimy with his own load, lolled out to rest against Gurranq's lumpy, bloated balls with a wet _smack_. He could feel the churn of Gurranq's balls through the flesh: shuddering, pulsing lurches that rippled up from his balls.

Gurranq snarled, hungry. His sheath shuddered, a frothy eruption of slime squirting from the wrinkled tip. It was always fat, but now it fattened further, bloating wider and wider as his perpetually-leaking cocktip surged forward, parting his heavy sheathlips and peeking out in the open. It was so thickly coated with gummy, congealed sludge that the color was impossible to tell. His sheath kicked, entire thing lurching up and down, and his cocktip erupted with a sludgy mess of fresh pre, almost as thick and syrupy as the ooze that'd been stewing in his sheath.

He'd tied his sheath closed: there was a loosely knotted twist of fabric bound around the base, stopping him from unsheathing more than the stubby inch that currently peeked free. It was constantly soaked with his own issue, leaking from his sheath in gummy spurts. Gurranq roared, entire body flexing, sheath surging. The sodden fabric drew taut, ooze spilling out of it in sheets, and then it snapped apart, forced wide by the bulk of his cock. His cock cannonaded out into the open, a colossal pillar of ink-black flesh, so thickly coated in a murky, off-white jelly of excess sheathfluid that it looked piebald. Gurranq let out a long, breathy groan; his cock flexed and shuddered, wetly beating up against his underbelly, splattering them both with his rank, jellied pre-slime. Excess kept oozing from his sheath, working out in fat, sludgy globs from where it had been stewing inside him for gods-knew how long. Steaming clots of fresh sludge oozed from Gurranq's pointed cocktip, splattering down across his chest in thick, vicous tendrils.

Gurranq was beyond words: just snarling, breath catching wetly in his throat, grimy froth pouring from his mouth and sheath alike.

Thankfully, he'd had a little more presence of mind: "Fuck me fuck me fuck me!" he begged, rutting his body against Gurranq's slime-encrusted cock.

The motion peeled off some of the thicker murk, splattering down across his body in rubbery sheets of gunk, rank and heavy. Gurranq's cock was a immense column of flesh, fat and heavy, pent-up balls already unloading murky, congealed issue down his length in gummy lines. Gurranq shoved a slime-encrusted hand between his thighs, clawed fingertips scoring across his ass. He caught ahold of one asscheek and pried him open, clawtips probing against his hole. Loosened, thankfully, by Blaidd not too long ago; Gurranq's black blade was a far more intimidating weapon than Blaidd's spear.

Gurranq bodily hauled him up so that he could lean down over him, cock smearing between his thighs and leaving behind oozing tendrils of sludge painting all across his skin, and nocked his cocktip against his ass. Gurranq was large; his cock was immense. Even the pointed tip had the girth of a fist. It skidded across bare flesh before socketing into his loose hole, and when it stuck Gurranq let out an inhuman roar and plowed forward, bodily yanking his body down onto his bestial cock as if it was nothing more than a toy to use freely. His cock slammed inside, old sludge and fresh pre mixing together in a soupy morass.

Gurranq hunched over him, body sprawled beneath, and humped inside like a wild dog: panting and baying, cock erupting with heavier and heavier gushes of pre. Even his fresh pre was gritty: syrupy, full of congealed grime. Heavy, rubbery clots of ooze splattered against his inner walls, where Gurranq's frenzied thrusts mashed them into chalky grime, a thick paste that clung inside him. Beneath Gurranq, he twisted, gasping with each fresh stab deeper. The sharp tip, thick with clotted ooze, scored fierce lines along his inner walls, sliding up until it caught on the entrance to his guts. Gurranq was in no mind to go easy; he let out another roar and slammed forward, crushing him to the ground with the full weight of his body, impaling him deeply on his cock. His sheath gurgled and squelched, backed-up sludge still pouring out, and with his body pinned beneath Gurranq's, the syrupy waterfall oozed down across his thighs, painting him in thick, taffy-like ribbons of congealed sludge.

His stomach bloated, warping out even beyond the lopsided bulge Blaidd's cock made: Gurranq's blade sheathed inside him, making him _into_ its sheath. His sheath cracked against his ass, heavy flesh folding back over itself in lurches, and it wetly belched out tarry clots, lumpy egg-shapes, finally dislodged from their position stuck to Gurranq's sheathflesh to spill in murky piles across his upturned ass. The flow slowed, but not because he'd fully drained. He could feel it, burning beneath his sheath, damming the flow: Gurranq's knot, finally ready to surface after who-knew how long. Gurranq's breath caught, snarl fading away to a desperate whine, and he hunched forward, grinding his sloppy sheath back and forth across his ass, turgid knot pinned inside.

Slowly, in lurching spasms, his sheath folded back over itself, revealing the raw black flesh of its inside, as it swelled fatter and fatter, until it was an enormous, head-sized block of surging flesh, tightly wrapped around the pulsing knot inside. Thick clots of rank ooze peeled off his flesh, the stretch finally enough to dislodge them. Gurranq shuddered, hips jerking, and with a sudden spasm his sheath nearly folded inside-out, squirting out his immense knot in a sudden rush.

There was an explosion of slime, murk finally draining out from behind his knot for the first time since before the Shattering: creamy yellow sludge, scent indescribable, oozing sloppy tendrils down the bulk of his knot. His knot shuddered, bloated flesh audibly creaking as it firmed up, slowly swelling to its full size. Gurranq battered it against his gaped hole, impacting with a sharp _crack_ and a messy gush of slime, drawing back to leave their bodies tethered together by finger-thick ropes of sloppy yellowed sludge. Each thrust ground the murk deeper into his skin, staining him with Gurranq's pent-up need, until his whole body was drenched in greasy, oily froth: grime pouring in cords across his back, piling up in heaps beneath him. His knot bore down, greased with his own backed-up issue, and then, with a final lurch it popped inside, slamming into place between his hips with the force of a boulder. He gurgled, letting out a breathless cry, while above him Gurranq bayed at the sky, entire body spasming as he knotted someone for the first time in centuries.

i have never played a breath of the wild. anyway here's kass getting spitroast by lizalfos

---


Kass had thought he'd be able to reach the village before night fell. Now, looking at the blood-red moon rising in the sky, he wished he hadn't been quite so over-eager in his schedule. Thick fog rose in shrouds from the soil, until instead of standing in a tree-dotted field, Kass was in the middle of a cloud of oily red-black miasma, only barely able to see the lone tree a dozen paces away. Unearthly groans filled the air, and he broke out into a run, looking into the hazy sky to try to gather his bearings.

He didn't make it. There was a screech at his side, and then something hit him, bowling him over in a messy tumble, leaving him pinned on his back on the ground, a squawking and chirping Lizalfos over him. Red fog billowed off its body, suffusing the air around it with the heavy tang of miasma, and Kass shuddered as he panted for breath, already feeling its effects inside him: heat surging inside him, burning hotter as the monster breathed out fuming blasts of concentrated red-black murk across his face.

Heat gathered between his thighs, vent flushing, and Kass lolled back, woozy. His legs spread, wetness trickling across the downy feathers around his vent, and his trousers shuddered as his cock spilled up, pointed tip digging into the satiny fabric and rapidly soaking it through. Kass groaned, dazed by the miasma fog, and there was an answering rumble from the Lizalfos. A wet heat smacked against his belly, and Kass craned his head up enough to stare down the monster's underbelly, eyes going wide. The Lizalfos sported a pair of lumpy, gnarled hemipenes, hanging in an enormous, half-hard lump from its underbelly. They were fatter than they were long, short and intensely fat, shafts covered in lumpy nodules, and each one was capped with a rumpled, flaring cockhead. Slick, soupy slime poured from both tips. Purple-red goo drizzled down over Kass's tented trousers, adding to the mess. It burned against his cock, soaking through the fabric, and his cock lurched, unsheathing further until it formed a painful, tightly-bunched lump jutting obscenely from his front. Kass thrashed, hips shuddering reflexively, and the Lizalfos cocked one of its hind legs, claws snapping out to tear a messy rent through his trousers all up his thigh. His cock immediately burst free from the tear, shredding his trousers all the way up to his crotch, and baring his flushed, dripping vent.

The Lizalfos crooned eagerly, hips moving with jerky, reptilian movements as it rutted its cocks against Kass's spar. Kass's dick was a flushed pink, long and straight, with the slightest corkscrew curve along its length; nothing like the gnarled, lumpy mess the Lizalfos sported. Still, dazed with malice, cock-drunk, ass Kass could do was dizzily rut upwards, humping his length between the Lizalfos' oozing cocks, sheening his flesh in its grimy pre. The monster chirped, its own thrusts slopping its cocks across his belly, soaking his feathers in its murk.

Kass keened, arching up, and it was accident more than anything else that had the monster's cock slipping down far enough to jab against his vent. He froze in surprise; the Lizalfos didn't. It surged forward, plowing down, and slammed one fat, gnarled cockhead right between his vent lips, digging along the underside of his shaft. Kass squawked, heat and stretch overwhelming him as the monster rutted above him, eagerly sinking deeper into the tight opening it'd found. Its other cock smacked against Kass' thighs, spewing pre between his thighs, as Kass dazedly lay there, huffing deep gasps of malice, shakily whimpering and whining as he was pried open.

His vent warped, splayed wide into a bottom-heavy oval. His own cock burned from the tug and twist; each thrust raked across the root of his cock, but as the brutal mating went on he found himself rocking into each thrust, his cock spewing a bolt of fresh pre each time the monster bottomed out inside him, drenching his chestfeathers in messy cords. The Lizalfos shifted its claws, clutching his chest to give it better leverage, and even with his arms free Kass had no thought of escape. He braced himself on the ground and fucked up into the thrusts, meeting each brutal thrust with his own, fucking himself on the monster's fat cock.

The Lizalfos' second cock thumped between his thighs, gushing all across his tailfeathers, and deep in his frenzy Kass found himself arching up, guiding its second cock to shove between his asscheeks. It ground wet and sloppy against his asshole. The next squirt of foul pre erupted out between his asscheeks, glazing the downy feathers there with murky ichor and making its thrusts glide smoothly, so that its lumpy cockhead mashed right against his hole. Kass groaned, raising his legs to wrap them around the monster's waist, and the motion shoved his hole against its cockhead, bearing down until with an intense pop it shoved into his untried asshole. Kass howled, cock slapping against his chest and erupting in messy spurts of cum, glazing all up his chest and webbing across his face as the Lizalfos shoved both cocks deeply inside him.

If anyone came across the scene, they'd be shocked: Kass with his legs raised, tightly gripping the waist of a feral Lizalfos, bodies locked together in frenzied mating. His vent and ass both spread obscenely around its fat cocks, with thick, syrupy strands of congealed malice squirting from both holes as the Lizalfos mindlessly bred him.

He only became aware of the second Lizalfos when its cocks smacked against his face. Kass opened bleary eyes, catching a gush of murky pre right across his brow, and his beak lolled open, tongue out and panting. The Lizalfos' snapped at each other, squawking, but it wasn't long before the newcomer discovered the new hole. It rutted forward, mashing his face against its drooling cocks, and eagerly stuffed both short, fat cocks into his open beak. Kass groaned, stuffed from both ends, corrupted cum burning hot inside him. Dreamily, only a single thought surfaced through the haze: these Lizalfos could do whatever they wanted to him, so long as they didn't stop fucking him.

"i'm trying to keep these at around 2k words", i said.

anyway here's like 5k words of teen wolf maggot infestation porn. it's so long i can't post it as a comment!

yeehaw it's more rocket/hulk. the most reasonable pairing to come out of any of those superhero movies.

---

Rocket was glad Hulk had figured himself out. As funny as it was that he basically had split personalities who hated each other, well, it got a little annoying having Banner literally run away from him in terror every time they say each other. All that repression couldn't be healthy. And maybe Hulk being a little less impulsive in his constant quest for cock would've been a good idea sooner. And he supposed all the other people had to deal with a murderous, out-of-control Hulk less often, though Rocket had never had that particular problem. Just getting pinned to a wall for eight hours while Hulk desperately fucked himself on his cock, constantly sobbing for more. So all-in-all he was in favor of his, uh, growth as a person. Rocket would never say it like that, for sure. But...

Well, Smart Hulk (Banner did not like that name) had his own issues. A lot of the time he went around in nothing but an open labcoat, cock constantly half-hard. And now that he had his fifteen-PhD brain at the ready, he turned it to his own perverse ends. He'd gotten piercings. He'd specifically figured out how to work around his own healing factor, just to get himself gigantic nipple-ring piercings. He liked having them yanked, hard, when he was getting fucked. And his latest one...

"Just stick your cock in it!" Hulk growled. He still got a little monosyllabic when he was frustrated.

Hulk's latest invention looked like a giant fucktoy. Like a horse mating sheath hooked up to the inside of a microwave. The thing was gigantic. It was bigger than Rocket's entire body, which didn't say much, but it was also nearly the size of Hulk's entire body. Was the guy planning on using the thing on giants?

"Man, I ain't sticking my cock in that thing until you tell me what it does," Rocket snapped, hackles up. Hulk had called him down to his lab, saying it was important, which was usually code for how he needed to get fucked bad.

"You'll like it," Hulk said, crossing his arms. His cock smacking heavily between his legs, drooled wetly onto the floor.

"Tell me what it fuckin' does, fuckface!"

Hulk let out an irritated snort. "It's based on the template for your jumpsuit," he started, voice patient like he was talking to a child. He definitely still had some of Banner's smug know-it-all-ness.

Oh, right, also, Hulk's fixation with his dick now extended to his jumpsuit. It was just a little space-folding mesh, nothing to get excited about, but the guy's brain practically exploded when he got a close look at it. He'd been balls-deep on his cock, tongue rooting around inside his sheath, when his blearly, crossed eyes had focused on the hexagonal mesh of the inner jumpsuit, and that had been it. He'd actually pulled himself off Rocket's dick to start writing things down, which had never happened before. He never even finished the blowjob.

"It makes your dick bigger," Hulk finished, flatly. "Now stick your cock in there so I can play with it."

"How much bigger?!" Rocket squawked. "You know I already can't fuckin' walk around with my dick hanging out!"

"It'll be fine! I factored that in!" Hulk bellowed, veins on his neck starting to throb. "It's not permanent!" Hulk yelled. Cagey. "I'll make the thing that shrinks it back later," he admitted. Then: "Give me your fucking cock!"

Hulk was still a needy mess. The promise of an even bigger cock had him desperate.

Still-- Rocket looked over at the high-tech mating sheath. His cock shuddered inside him, prostate rolling like a boulder between his hips. "How much bigger?"

There was a hungry growl in Hulk's voice: "Bigger."

"Ah, fuck it," Rocket said, reaching back for the zipper of his jumpsuit. "Let's see what you got."

Hulk hooted out an eager sound, half-hard cock shuddering as it filled out. The wet splat of his pre leaking out onto the floor got a lot more constant. He'd added floor drains to his lab, with some kind of industrial suction motor to handle the volume and viscosity of all the weird mutant, monster, and god cum he was handling on what had to be a daily basis.

He'd provided a helpful little stepladder up to the mating sheath. Rocket shucked the jumpsuit down to the waist, shoulder-straps hanging to the side, and hauled his sheath out with both hands. He'd been a little horned up, cock thickening inside him, and the motion let the very tip of his cock peek out: flushed red-pink, cockhead a lumpy gnarl. He pressed it against the fat, plush lips of the tube, already lubed up, an he sunk in effortlessly, cock surrounded by slick, warm pressure. Something clunked inside the machine, and a faint suction tugged at the tip of his dick, combined with some kind of pulsing ring sliding down through the sheath, stroking his cock. The tube tugged around the base of his sheath, sucking it inside, and pulling his balls through too. There was a second pouch beneath specifically for them. Of course there was.

This was just a jerkoff machine, Rocket thought for a half-second, feeling himself unsheath and unsheath. It was rare for him to easily fit inside anything, but the machine swallowed him down easily. It had probably been made to his exact specifications.

Then, Hulk turned on all the sci-fi bullshit. Glowing tiles lit up along the exterior of the tube, forming an interlocking hexagonal mesh, and Rocket felt-- it was hard to describe what he felt. A faint tugging, twisting, maybe? Only his next thrust into the tube went a lot deeper, cocktip pushing past the bloated reservoir of pre he'd leaked into it and into untried depths. And then again, the next thrust, and again. He could feel the dense rubbery material of the tube crawling around his cock, bunching and shifting, and it wasn't until he actually focused on the tube itself he could see how his cock was making the whole thing stretch, material rumpling up and getting ironed out smooth by the constant ripples of pressure sliding along his growing cock.

"More," Hulk snorted, hungrily panting at the controls. He spun a dial. "More!"

Maybe it was a bad idea to let the cock-hungry size queen have a cock growth machine. He was practically giggling in manic delight, mouth open, tongue scraping drool off his lips as he stared between Rocket stuck in the increasingly-tight sheath and the readout on the monitor.

"Hulk--" Rocket started, a little concerned. His cock didn't feel any different, but the bulge it was making in the machine was getting terrifyingly huge. Rocket already had a dick close to the size of the entire rest of his body, and this was-- how big did Hulk want it?! With a sinking feeling, he already knew the answer: as big as he could possibly get.

Hulk was fully in a cock-craze by now: kneeling on the ground, forehead pressed against the control panel, completely zoned out staring at the machine swelling and swelling around Rocket's cock. His cock was pissing out pre all over the floor, completely untouched. He was in a daze, hands reaching out to heft an imaginary cock, mouth open, throat working. So lost in his fantasy Rocket wasn't sure if he realized he wasn't actually sucking a cock yet.

The machine creaked ominously, stroking bands starting to dig in sharply around Rocket's shaft. His cockhead rammed into something hard at the very end of the tube. There was a big bloated-condom reservoir for pre at the far end that was starting to swell enough that he could see if over the rest of the machine. "Huuulk," Rocket said, concerned, but he was totally out of it: throat working as he pantomimed deepthroating a cock, completely lost in his fuck-haze.

Rocket's cock shuddered, flexing; the condom reservoir surged out like somebody inflating a balloon. The bands dug in tighter, sharply grinding along his shaft. There was a ripping sound as the sheath started to tear around his cockhead, and all the glowing panels flickered, desynchronizing.

"Hulk," Rocked groaned, reflexively humping into the machine still. "I am never sticking my dick into one of your inventions again!" he bellowed, as his cock physically tore apart the machine: sheath tearing apart like rubber, stroking rings cracking apart when he cock flexed, and then with an enormous tidal wave of soupy, acrid raccoon pre the entire sheath split down the side, reservoir bursting, as Rocket destroyed what had to have been millions of dollars of fancy tech with his cock. His cock lurched to the side, impossibly heavy now that it wasn't being held up by the machine, and--

Rocket just stared, open-mouthed. He'd seen the lump in the machine. He'd seen how big it was. Actually seeing it attached to his body was something else entirely. His cock was bigger than he was. His cock was maybe bigger than the Hulk. His body was a weird lump on the side of an utterly gigantic dick-and-balls. His hips awkwardly straddled the root of his cock, prostate prolapsed out between his hips and partially shoved into the base of his newly-enormous cock. He was mostly resting on his oversized sac, each one... car-sized? Maybe? His veins fluttered up the root of his shaft, each one nearly as broad as his entire chest. He couldn't even get a good look at his cockhead; it was a fucking limo-length away from him, drooling happily across the floor.

You know who else was drooling happily? The Hulk, who lurched forward, completely uncaring that his invention had been destroyed. It had gotten him what he wanted, after all. He grabbed his shaft in a bear hug, arms not even making it all the way around, and buried his face in the ridge along his cockhead, mouth open and slobbering, lapping up the messy runnels of pre streaking down his flesh. The ridge was usually a nice little handhold: a ridge a few fingers thick, banding his shaft tight before it unfurled in the lumpy, animal mess that was his cockhead. Now it was a fucking cliff face, swallowing up Hulk's head and shoulders as he shoved himself into the slick cavity, body drenched in Rocket's stringy cockslime. His tongue was so small, comparatively, it almost tickled. Didn't stop Rocket from groaning, whole length of his cock shuddering, as it spat out a fresh gush of pre: what had to be dozens of gallons, spraying out in a firehose eruption that smashed through most of the rest of the lab and coated everything in a grimy wash of gamey, acrid raccoon pre. Hulk clambered bodily along his cockhead, moving it like he was a fucking climbing wall: hands gripping around the lumpy knob and gnarls budding along his cockhead, now inflated to absurd proportions, until his face was pressed up right against the chest-wide spread of his bulging cocklips. Rocket couldn't even see him; he was hidden under the sheer bulk of his cock. His mouth probed around his gigantic cocklips, wet breath cutting off in a choking gurgle as he caught the next enormous blast of pre straight to the face. Hulk's dick, tiny -- and how wild was that -- caught between two knobs along his cockridge, feeling like a finger lightly teasing his cocktip, as Hulk completely lost himself in his cock worship, just mindlessly rutting, sucking, twisting, tugging along Rocket's cockhead.

Rocket resigned himself to lying here, anchored to his cock, until Hulk burnt himself out. Not that he was having a bad time. Just that he definitely should've asked more questions before he shoved his dick into Hulk's magical jerkoff machine. Still -- his cock rippled, slamming a spurt of pre against Hulk's chest that almost sent his glazed, greased-up body sliding out across the half-flooded floor -- he wasn't opposed. Maybe set it to half-size next time so he could actually fit it. Or, hell, he wouldn't put it past Hulk to invent something that'd let him take it. Turn himself into a living condom, stretched tight around Rocket's huge animal cock. That'd be fun.