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The Raid
Part II
Raugk woke in the dim tent, and lay amongst his sleeping-furs, gradually
taking in the day. The fat-lamp guttered, nearly out where it hung on
the tentpost, but dusty rays of light made their way through pinholes
in the hides, and around the tent-flap, casting their light on the chests,
the skull ornaments, the gleam of copper and gold.
The sounds of the camp were muffled, the clatter of pots, a thump followed
by the groan of a slave, the jingle as one of his personal guards adjusted
his armor, just outside the tentflap. A golden glow spread across his
furs as a sunbeam slowly tilted with the rising sun, and he smiled as
it covered the naked shoulder of his human slave-girl, Mara.
She stirred as his hand cupped her shoulder, and rolled towards him
at his nudge. Her cheek rested against his mangy thighfur, just below
his loincloth, and she fingered at his hip, looking up at him sleepily.
He rubbed her hair for a moment, admiring the way it gleamed in the
light - so much softer than his own filthy fur, he had even been tempted
to bathe. He felt a stirring in his loincloth, his blood rising with
the sun, and he nodded at her, tugging the folds of fur away with his
other hand. She blinked, looking up at the thick gray-green shaft resting
against his thigh, and reached up to grip it in smooth fingers.
He could feel himself going rapidly rigid, as she slid her hand down
the greasy length. Her other hand stroked the matted fur of his balls
as her hands touched, and then back up his length went the first hand,
now unable to close its fingers around the stiffening cock.
Gnolls had sheaths, and generous cocks (or so Mara said, when he lent
her out). His hung free, and was still more generous. She was a tight
thing, and would sometimes stroke him like this so she would not have
to feel it pierce her. He leaned down as she put her other hand on his
shaft, stroking him firmly, and lapped out his foot-long tongue to taste
her cheeks and forehead.
She pretended not to care, but he saw her eyes narrow, knew she held
back the urge to cower. He licked her ear, and nuzzled at her, and she
lowered her face, lifting the heavy length of his cock to meet her lips.
She feared his kiss; recently she'd seen him kiss Eowyn, who had displeased
him, and seen him yawn over that woman's head a moment later. She had
kicked and struggled, as his jaws stretched over her shoulders….
He giggled to himself as her lips stretched thin over his tip, and leaned
back, leaving her face glistening with saliva, but un-swallowed. He
hadn't planned to eat her, not unless he got very hungry indeed, or
refused to kneel for him, like Eowyn.
The top few inches of his cock appeared from her lips, clean and shiny,
not crusted with grime and grease like the rest. Down went her head
again, her tongue flickering against his glans. The warmth began to
gather in his balls, and he let his tongue loll out, not trying to slow
his lust. There was no need to. It was good to be the chieftain….
Bang! Bang! Bang! A hand beat on the post outside his tent-flap, and
one of his guards growled urgently. Raugk snarled in irritation.
"What!" The guard's muzzle appeared through the flap, his
mouth open to speak. The beam of sunlight fell on Mara's lips around
the chief's cock, and the guard froze, giggling.
"You!" A goblet bounced off the guard's cheek, and he covered
his head as the chief reached for a mace that lay nearby. "There'd
better be a fucking good reason…!"
Mara looked up, her chin damp with her saliva (but not his seed, damn
it), and he pushed her away, rolling to his feet and grabbing the flindbars
from his boots. One in each hand, he stomped to the flap, and snarled
at those outside even as he blinked in the sunlight.
A passing gnoll bitch giggled at him, staring at the foot of cock that
still stood out of his loincloth (mental note to tie her to the bedroll
tonight, and let his pet hyena have her in between his own goes). Breaking
the distraction, he swung the linked iron bars at the guard, who barely
skipped out of reach. "There…had…better…be…."
The second guard held up a bloody mess of fur, and Raugk ground to a
halt. He saw Kransh now, almost cowering behind the taller gnoll guard.
He looked at the fur, and saw the shape. It was a humanoid, about half
his height, furry and very dead. About all that stood out was the ringed
tail….
His mouth went dry. It was a….
"Praka." Kransh prodded the extremely dead raccoonman, regaining
his courage. "We found it sneaking around the watch-posts, and
thought you'd want to know about it. You did say to tell you if -"
"GUARDS!!" Raugk slammed a flindbar into the breastplate that
hung next to his doorpost. The dented metal gave out an ugly sound loud
enough to sting the ears, and muzzles popped from tents all over the
camp. "Attack! We're under attack! Get your asses -"
Two tents collapsed silently, and earsplitting snarling filled the camp
as a dozen Gul in full armor popped into view. Two of the bulky wolverine-men
rolled forward, their segmented black armor making them look like pill-bugs,
and then lunged to their feet. The towering gnolls they surprised never
had a chance; each Gul had two battleaxes, and they sliced the taller
hyena-men apart before they could make a sound.
The other Gul turned in a smooth motion, all at once, and charged out
of sight down an alley between the tents. Yips and panicked giggles
were followed by screams from that direction, the two closer Gul vanishing
a moment later down another alley.
"Gul…!" Kransh looked at him. "What do we do?"
Still another of the black-armored wolverines appeared, this one studded
with arrows that didn't seem to slow him at all. Pausing to break off
the shafts one by one, he looked intently at Raugk and his band, then
turned and loped off on all fours. That one had bloodied foot-long scythelike
claws mounted on all four sets of paw-armor.
"We run." Raugk cast a look at his tent, and dismissed the
idea of taking any of his treasures, or Mara. "We have to get out
before…shit."
The tent collapsed behind them as some unseen Gul cut the cords, the
remaining tents to either side going down all at once. Suddenly the
hilltop camp was gone, the thirty-plus hide tents and looted cloth pavilions
all flat to open the view.
Kransh growled, pulling his flindbars from his belt, and the guard holding
the departed praka dropped in shock. At least thirty Gul stood in a
ring around them, black armor shining with smears of blood and blue
highlights. In the alleys between the fallen tents were the bodies of
almost the entire tribe, gnolls male and female lying gutted and bleeding.
The gul grinned at him as one, not a single wolverine seeming injured,
and behind then he saw several fox-men and half a dozen praka watching
him inquisitively.
The cursed little raccoon-men had gone through the tribe's traps as
though they were not there. How he hated the miserable little things…a
glow caught his eye, and he looked to one side where a fox-woman was
magically tended to a Gul whose armor was red from head to paw, largely
with his own blood it seemed.
He looked back the other way, to where a dozen or so surviving tribegnolls
were watched by alert Gul. These last ones cowered, spirits broken…at
least until their captor's backs were turned. Mara moaned behind him,
trapped under the weight of the tent-pelts, but he didn't look there.
Something was happening.
The gul in the ring growled as one, and the largest stepped forward.
This one was enormous, tall as a medium gnoll (and taller than Raugk's
over-seven-feet), and immensely broad across the sloped shoulders. Muzzle
was held low, huge hand-and-footpaws sported curved while claws as long
as the chieftain's fingers. A scarred, blackfurred muzzle and small,
dark eyes showed through the slots in his helm, and he gestured at Raugk
and Kransh.
"You two." He snarled gnoll at them, pacing forward with a
creak of dark armor. "Do you know why I'm here?"
Kransh giggled nervously, and the guards fingered their poleaxes, trying
to look brave while obviously wanting to bolt. So did Raugk, but there
was no-where to run. "The Maker sent you."
The gul nodded. "You agreed not to raid caravans in this area."
A wave of his huge hand-paw, taking in the looted tents that made up
part of the encampment.
"That was two years ago!" Raugk resisted the urge to grovel.
"The deal was only for one year…."
"The Maker doesn't see it that way. He believes you agreed that
even after the year, you would not kill travelers or take them as slaves."
He didn't have to gesture at the small knot of freed slaves, each attended
to by a little Praka who handed over food and clothing. Some of the
slaves showed bruises and other signs of abuse; not all masters were
as gentle as Raugk.
A clink, and he looked at the gul again. The huge wolverine was undoing
the buckles of his cuirass, and in a moment the heavy, black breastplate
thudded to the dirt. The fur under it was as dark as the armor, save
for white blotches over his collarbones, and almost golden furry 'sideburns'
revealed as he shucked his helm. The broad stripes from armpit to tail-root
were the same color. Freed of part of his armor's weight, he reached
out and took a short spear from a companion, finger wrapping around
the wrist-thick handle.
"Wait, wait a minute." Raugk was sweating now, his fur growing
damp and smelling bad even to him. "It was a mistake, we can move…."
The gul flexed his massive arms, muscles standing out through the fur,
and swiped the spear in a whistling arc. "If you beat me, the two
of you, you can go." A yelp behind Raugk, where his personal guards
were being wrestled to the ground, and the spear whipped again. "If
not…."
Raugk eyed the enormous gul, as big as he and Kransh together, and flipped
his flindbars around to catch both ends in his hands. Kransh was whimpering,
but held his ground, his own flindbars snapping back and forth in a
nervous rhythm. If he or his subchief could manage to hit the gul in
the head with the chain-linked bars, they might have a chance.
With that thought, he stepped to the side, drawing the gul's attention.
Kransh, experienced at this game, circled the other way, and Raugk grinned
as the gul paused, unsure which way to turn.
And before he could take another step closer, the wolverine exploded
in a flurry of motion. His arm snapped back, the heavy, bladed spear
slashing at Kransh's muzzle, and as the subchief ducked, the gul half-spun
and converted the swipe into a two-handed upward hook. The spear-point
just missed Kransh's hand, catching the chain of that set of flindbars
and sending them out of the circle. And completing his spin, the gul
came at Raugk, the heavy spear spinning like a reed in his paws.
Raugk snarled, swinging both hands to the right, and blocked the shaft
with flindbars held solidly. Instantly he had to block on the other
side, the haft of the spear threatening to splinter his ribs, and then
a sharp-fanged snap of the gul's muzzle almost took his nose off. He
stepped back rapidly, catching sight of Kransh coming in from behind
the wolverine, but found his back to the broad, armored chest of one
of the other gul.
With no time to think - the gul's footwork was terribly fast - he threw
himself to the side. One flindbar went skidding through the dirt as
he landed, but he got his hands under him, scuttling away…only
to have the gul fall hard on him as Kransh's flindbar hit the wolverine
a glancing blow across the shoulderblades. The gul's own spear went
flying, but furry handpaws as big as Raugk's head caught his wrists,
pulling him in against the gul as it rolled to its knees.
Kransh slammed into his back with a grunt, and everything went dim and
starry as their heads knocked together. Refusing to go under, Raugk
shook his head clear, finding both of his wrists caught in one massive
paw. The gul's other arm had reached past his shoulder, catching Kransh
by the throat and keeping him pinned to his chief's back. His muzzle
bent cruelly to the side by the wolverine's enormous bicep, he saw the
broad muzzle go over his head. The gul was…whispering to Kransh?
The three of them struggled, Kransh's mangy chestfur butting his back
as he struggled to get his hands free. Vision clearing at last, he snarled
at the wolverine, provoking a spine-chilling point-blank snarl that
wilted his ears and confidence alike. Gods, this one was strong.
It took him a few seconds to realize that Kransh was not struggling
against his back. Instead, the sub-chief's hands strayed downward, stroking
the coarse fur and finally…gripping Raugk's loincloth?
"Kransh, what the hell are you doing?" He growled at the gul,
and struggled to get his feet between them. "Claw at him, you idiot!"
He turned his head to bark at the subchief, feeling his loincloth pulled
away from behind.
Kransh wasn't nervous any more. His throat still gripped by the wolverine's
iron-strong paw, he'd pushed his hands down between his belly and Raugk's
back, pulled the loincloth away…and, to the chief's irritation,
was pulling his own loincloth off as well. "Kransh, I don't know
what you think you're…."
Raugk realized at the moment, just what Kransh was thinking. As the
loincloths fell away, and the subchief's fingers wrapped around Raugk's
tail to pull it up and to the side…out of the way…the sub-chief's
excitement, his panting, told the chief enough that he didn't need to
see Kransh' erection.
"You better not fucking aaaaagh!" Kransh's fingers dug into
his hips, and Raugk felt what many a human woman pinned between his
subchief and him had felt. Raugk snarled, and jerked hard at the gul's
grip, getting a grin back in response. His arms were pulled up, his
own bicep pushing his muzzle back so he couldn't twist it around to
bite Kransh. The armored arms mocked him; futile to bit at those.
"Kransh…agh…I will, agk, kill you for…agk…"
Raugk squeezed his eyes shut, as the subchief thrust up under his tail.
Kransh was giggling madly, nipping at Raugk's nape, panting, as he worked
himself in. The gul's grip was loose enough to let him rock his hips
forward and back, and soon he was humping up under Raugk's tail, taking
advantage of his chief's spread legs.
Raugk tried to wriggle free, to at least get his legs together, but
the seated gul's knees held them wide. He tried to pull forward, away
from the terrible, stretching pain, but Kransh leaned in over his back
and thrust, thrust, thrust his heavy cock, giggling….
Raugk gritted his fangs, a tear leaking from one eye, and thought terrible
thoughts about the sub-chief. All those women they'd shared, the caravans
they'd looted…it was all forgotten now, as his subordinate panted
over his nape. He knew Kransh wanted to be closer than a woman between
them allowed. He'd even considered that the next time he lacked a woman,
he might call Kransh to his tent…but not for this!
Kransh gave a barking, high-pitched giggle, his member moving beneath
Raugk's tail, and the chief growled in helpless fury as he felt the
flind spasm. He felt it all, the throbbing beneath his tail, the pulse
deeper inside him, and deepest of all, a gush of heat. Kransh panted
against his nape, humping up against him a few more times, and then
relaxed, pulling out in a long, painful slide.
The gul was grinning, holding Kransh tighter than before, pulling his
muzzle over Raugk's shoulder. "That was for the women on those
caravans, the ones you held between you…yes, I know about that."
Raugk's hands were free suddenly, the wolverine's fingers digging into
his scruff hard, pulling his head back. "That was your punishment.
Your subchief, on the other hand…."
Kransh was still panting, grinning and giggling, even as his muzzle
was forced around toward Raugk's. The hand on the chief's nape pulled
hard, and his muzzle tilted back, his jaws yawning helplessly. He was
just able to see Kransh's expression go from post-mating bliss to terror,
and then the subchief's head rammed into his jaws, his fangs scraping
up over the lesser flind's ears. His yawn took in Kransh' snout, a brutal
push by the gul forcing the snout into the back of his jaws as his maw
fit over the subchief's head.
His jaws let go, dislocating at the pressure, Kransh's hands pushing
frantically at his chest as the subchief's nose slid down into his throat.
The gul had them each by their scruffs now, pushing them together, and
his whiskers were rough against Raugk's ear as he whispered.
"You're going to swallow him now. You can do it yourself, or I
can push him in. It will hurt less if you take him yourself."
Raugk's hands went around Kransh's shoulders swiftly, and with a near
grin he pulled the slightly smaller flind in against his chest. Kransh's
fingers plucked at his chestfur, and with a yawn brought on more by
anger than hunger, he gaped his muzzle around the flind's cheeks. Loose
jaws slid down as he pushed, and he felt the weight of his subchief's
head settle into the stretched fur of his throat, the muzzle a tickle
leading down into his chest.
He worked his muzzle to one side, and then the other, stretching his
cheeks outward, feeling the bones stretch out as his jaws yawned wider.
He'd never swallowed anyone as large as Kransh, but the pain that lingered
under his tail, and the rage he felt towards his untrustworthy subchief
drove him on. He pushed his jaws down over Kransh' shoulders, holding
him tight to his chest to trap his arms, feeling the flind's head sink
down into his chest.
Kransh was jerking in his grip, the flind's pleasure turned to terror,
his hands pushing at his chest. He was an awkward package to swallow,
and might have pulled himself free…save for the gul's hand gripping
his tail, hauling him upward as the chief's jaws stretched ever wider.
Raugk felt his lips pop over Kransh's upper arms, and with a distorted
grin, pushed his muzzle down to the subchief's elbows. Gulp, his throat
starting to get a grip on the fur and flesh, and gulp again, his tongue
pushing up against the flind's chest to help push the huge meal deeper.
Gulp. He could feel his throat gripping down around Kransh's shoulder,
pulling the flind an inch deeper, his nose almost to the subchief's
tail-root. The gul let go the tail, and rolled Raugk atop the vanishing
flind, so he was able to use his weight to force his jaws ever father
over his meal. Kransh' struggles were growing muffled, his arms firmly
pinned to his sides, half of him trapped in the flexible throat and
torso.
He got his hands beneath Kransh's rump, and straightened his torso,
pulling the only slightly smaller flind into his jaws as he swallowed
heavily. A strange, heavy sliding feeling in his belly told him the
subchief's head was in his stomach, and with that same distorted grin
he gulped down the waist, his lips stretching outward as he began to
take in his comrade's hips. This would teach the bastard to bugger him….
His jaws worked over Kransh's rump, his lower jaw taking in the flind's
now-slack cock and furry ballsac. He's haven bitten that dick off, if
his jaws weren't loose. His tongue pushed the thick, limp, and foul-tasting
shaft into his gullet, the balls gulped down after. His lips folded
in over the foul, furry pelt of Kransh' s thighs, and the meal grew
gradually easier as his throat got a firm grip on the flind's entire
torso.
From squinted eyes he watched the gul grin as Kransh's legs kicked feebly
from the corners of his muzzle, as with three slow, strong gulps he
pushed the flind down. A tight, stretching feeling told him his subchief's
shoulders were in his gut now, and he grabbed at the protruding legs,
which twitched and kicked as he pulled them in.
He rolled onto his side, Kransh' dark gray boots protruding from his
muzzle, and GULPed heavily. He was feeling happily full already, but
his throat pulled at the legs, and after a moment he was able to get
his jaws around the boots. They kicked and shivered as he folded his
loose maw around them, getting it shut, getting his tongue up against
the leather soles.
And, with a last gulp, he dispatched his subchief down his gullet. The
weight slid heavily through his chest, gathering in his belly, and he
groaned as the yellow-brown fur expanded, his belly as large as the
rest of him. Grayish green skin showed through the fur, as did the shape
of the flind, now forced into a ball in Raugk's gut. The pelt was painfully
tight around his meal, but he grinned, as Kransh moved slightly, still
trying to escape. The sub-chief had wanted to get inside him, after
all. He has just not expected to get so much of himself inside….
He groaned as the great lump shifted, and looked up past it at the gul
leader. "Issss -* Belch! *" He worked his jaws, rehinging
them with a pop, "…The punishment done, then?" He pushed
his hands down against the bulge, muffling a violent twitch that was
moving under the fur.
The gul smiled, digging his claws into the thick fur of Raugk's nape.
"He buggered you because you took unwilling women. You ate him
because he helped you eat those women. What's left to punish?"
Raugk smiled, then lost the grin at the gul pulled him back to a sitting
position. There was something about the way the huge wolverine was looking
at him…"Nothing?"
The gul grinned, now. "My name is Vrassry. The Maker sent me to
punish." Raugk squirmed as forearms as thick as his thighs went
around his shoulders, his ears flattening against the wolverine's neckfur.
"For many things. You paid, a little bit, for taking the women
unwillingly. Your subchief, for helping you eat them. And you, for eating
them…."
Raugk's eyes went wide, and he giggled fearfully as the gul nuzzled
beneath his chin. Pulling back, or trying to, he found the huge weight
of his quivering belly anchored him to the floor. He pushed against
the thick-furred chest, felt the hard muscles beneath.
And the gul yawned. His black fur parting as his muzzle divided. Yellowed
fangs, pink palate, thin, black lips drawing back, the darker pink of
his tongue. The darkness at the back of his mouth….
He yelped as the wolverine leaned down, fitting jaws over his head.
The fangs scraped, and then locked behind his ears and beneath his chin,
everything going dark, hot and wet around his. The palate was hard above,
the fangs catching his ears as he tried to pull back, the tongue the
only softness, cushioning his chin.
With a lurch the wolverine pushed his muzzle downward, and Raugk tried
to pull back, was held firmly in place by the powerful arms. The tongue
pushed up against his underjaw, and his nose slid down into slippery
heat and tightness. With a gurgle, the gul swallowed, his chops sliding
smoothly forward over Raugk's ears as the chief's snout fell into his
gullet. Raugk felt the tightness give way around his cheeks, felt the
pop-and-creak, and knew that the wolverine's jaws had just loosened,
as his had around Kransh a few minutes before.
His head was in the gul's throat now, the slippery skin stretching up
and around his cheeks, and a powerful suction gripped at him as the
wolverine swallowed. The throat rippled, waves of muscle gripping in
behind his cheek-ridges and pushing his down, his neck sucked in by
the wide muzzle in moments. He pushed violently against the thick neck,
arms spasming as he struggled to pull his head out of the enveloping
gullet. He felt the shape there, his own cheek and muzzle, and then
the fur pulsed beneath his fingers. Another gulp pulled at him, the
gul's nose sliding down between his shoulder blades….
He pushed at the swelling neck, then the chest, but the gul's armored
arms clutched him in close, and he had little leverage. The lips slid
easily down over his shoulders, tickling as the fur was flattened, and
he yelped into the hot, wet darkness as his upper arms were gradually
pulled into the wolverine's jaws.
He kicked, got a knee against the gul's thigh, and slammed it into his
groin, pulling back as hard as he could. His knee hit something hard,
though…buried in the night-black fur was an equally dark codpiece,
at least stiffened leather and maybe metal. His knee stung, then went
to one side of the thing as the gul hugged him to its belly, his knees
going to either side of the thick, furry waist. The motion made his
undertail hurt again, and he yelped.
The sound was soaked up by the skin that surrounded his muzzle, as was
the sound his thrashing made. Struggle as he would, the gullet was rapidly
pulsing down over his upper arms, the wolverine swallowing his widest
part with ease. His world had shrunk to that slippery throat, the creaking
and popping of muscle stretching around him, the regular, strong beat
of the gul's pulse. Those, and the wet, sucking sounds each time the
beast swallowed, the throat rippling, tugging, pulling him deeper.
His upper arms were trapped to his sides now. The wolverine's canine
fangs scraped down his spine, the lower jaw's fangs doing the same to
his furry chest, and with his shoulders fully in the beast's throat,
the hungry gulps were pulling him in even faster. There was a little
air in the gullet, sips of breath the wolverine sucked in past his shoulders,
and he got a good breath and held it. The jaws were growing tight around
his chest, and he needed his strength to…try…to escape.
But escape was looking less likely by the moment. His heavy belly shifted
uncomfortably, and he groaned as the jaws slid up the slope of the huge
bulge. Kransh has grown quiet now, suffocated in his chief's guts, just
a big bulge…and the gul's jaws were yawning ever wider, threatening
to take in even that huge lump.
Another gulp, and his elbows were taken in. Bracing his knees against
the gul's hard-muscled belly, and digging his fingers into that pelt,
he gave a great, desperate heave, trying to pull himself back out of
the jaws and throat. The fangs dug into his mangy fur painfully, and
he gained perhaps an inch. He tensed for another heave….
And the wolverine swallowed again, costing him the inch he'd gained
and more. The throat gurgled around him, bands of muscle straining to
push him deeper, and he had a sense of how uncomfortable this was for
the gul, muscle and bone shifting to let him past. As he struggled to
regain the lost inch, the huge hand-paws went around his belly, lifting
his doubled weight easily as the beast stood.
Raugk shifted in the gul's throat, his legs flailing, fangs scraping
sideways over his swollen belly. The jaws lost their grip, and he tried
to get a foot against them - he felt loose in the throat, suddenly,
and it seemed he could just fall back out!
But the huge paws held him in as the throat slid wetly over his shoulders.
The gul's muzzle went up, and up, and the paws pushed his legs up. The
huge weight of his belly pushed against the wolverine's jaws, stretching
them wider and wider, the lips pushing out to the sides as the yawn
opened until the gul's lower jaw was against his chest.
Raugk kicked, and felt the gullet grip down again as the gul swallowed.
The impossible gaped jaws were full of his belly, and the pressure made
the chief grimace and gurgle. Gulp, gulp, as his legs waved, the throat
massaging him heavily, trying to suck him down into the wolverine's
stomach. He could hear it gurgling down below, not so far away, but
it seemed the gul had bitten off more than he could swallow.
The gul tossed his head up, neck going completely straight, and then
even higher, his nose past the vertical. The wolverine's jaws creaked
even wider, and, horrified, Raugk felt his immense belly settling deeper
into the maw. Cheek-lips crept up to the sides, the warmth of the throat
pulsing over his navel. Deeper and deeper he sank, the fur of the gul's
neck swelling like an elastic bag to hold the huge mass.
The gullet rippled over his huge belly, and Raugk groaned. Kransh was
shifting around inside him like a near-to-birth cub in a female, the
gul's jaws and throat pushing the subchief to and fro. His bellyfur
stretched uncomfortably, and he belched heavily, the sound lost in the
gurgle of the wolverine's throat like all the others. Beneath the curve
of his belly, something tickled….
Raugk groaned again as he realized that somewhere along the line, he'd
gone hard again. It seemed hours since Mara's lips slid over his tip,
and he'd not had the pleasure of finishing, even then. His tip rocked
against the base of the gul's tongue, and he couldn't stop himself from
pushing it down past, the thick shaft tickled by his stretched bellyfur
on one side and the smooth slippery wolverine throat on the other.
He felt the edges of the gul's jaws against his hands as his belly was
gradually sucked deeper, and caught at them, getting his fingers beneath
the lower jaw. With his belly sinking deeper into the wolverine's neck
by the moment, he knew he would not get free; but he couldn't help taking
the grip, and using it as an anchor so he could rock his hips forward
and back, thrusting into the gullet.
The gul ignored the small motion, and yawned wide, closing his jaws
several times as hard as he could. The great bulk of Raugk's belly stuck
at the back of its jaws, kneaded by the strong chewing motions, and
Kransh shifted again inside the chief. With a lurch, the enormous bulge
slipped fully into the wolverine's throatfur, and Raugk kicked weakly.
The gul was tensing, shutting his jaws as hard as he could around the
furry legs, and the chief tensed, himself, a heat building in his balls.
They happened at the same time; Raugk let out a muffled cry, jerking
his belly against the smooth walls, painting them with his seed; and
the walls clenched down on his belly, loose only around his shoulders.
The squeeze, and his own weight, dislodged him, and as the throat loosened
again, his weight pushed him downward. His fingers slipped from the
gul's lower jaw, and he slid down the slick chute, carried along by
a strong gulp.
The wolverine's chest creaked and stretched around him as he fell; it
was like sliding into a wet sleeping-roll. The walls pulsed by on all
sides, stroking his fur wetly, pressing him down with strong ripples.
When the stomach opened up beneath him, he was already relaxed; he curled
in the space easily, arms wrapped around his belly, and Kransh inside
that. The belly-walls were hot and strong, squeezing inward, rippling
over him in a slow massage.
The heat made him relax even more. The wolverine was as stretched around
him as he was around his subchief; he felt it drop to all fours with
a heavy thump. He felt the beast's belly dragging the dirt, the arch
of its back it managed to get the enormous, drooping gut from the ground.
He was surrounded by the wet, slow gurgle of the gut. Struggling seemed
pointless now; he had no weapon, and was just too tired to try to bite
at the walls. With a slow, sucking sound, the stomach folded tight around
him, skin-tight to every curve of his body. The enveloping gut folded
itself over his muzzle, and he exhaled a last breath.
Somewhere, distantly, he heard the gul belch.
The End.
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