Getting Wood

The air smelled fresh today, and he wasn't sure why. Normally, a chill surrounded the Everfree Forest, a haunting, menacing aura seeming to hover around its boundary, dropping the temperature before ramblers managed to even pass its treeline, and when venturers did enter its shadowy domain, they were met with a carousel of rich, cloying smells that ranged from sickly tree sap to stale groundwater. Today, though, for whatever reason, all of that was absent. The sun managed to cut through the thick branches of the trees and warm the path he walked, and rather than the pervasive scent of danger and decay, he was met with the sweet nose-tickling joy of fruits, pollen, and dew on long, uncut grass. As icing on the cake, nowhere he walked was even damp, the sun having evapourated the moisture before he turned up.

Humming to himself as he walked, Spike let his gaze wander, feeling far more at ease than he ever had walking this path. He'd always had to keep his guard up, watching for traps or ferocious beasts lest they try to take advantage of his lapse of vigilence, but today, everything felt right. Wherever he needed to walk was dry, the air was clean, there were birds chirping in the trees, and the soft breeze that passed through the trees carried with it a coolness that complimented the hot sun overhead. Everything felt right today, and as foolhardy as it might've been, he was going to enjoy it to the maximum. When was he next chance he was going to have to wander in peace through a forest as notorious as Everfree?

He must've been halfway to his destination before he heard a sound which was very much out of place for the forest, as chaotic as it normally was or not. It didn't sound like an animal - at least, not one he could identify - and it certainly wasn't the natural sounds of the forest. He stopped, halting the interruption of his footsteps and focusing in on the sound. There it was again - a deep, low grumbling, like a moan of pain, or discomfort. Was someone hurt out here? He frowned, wondering what state they could be in, and worse, what could've put them in such a state. Hesitating, he glanced back the way he'd come, wondering if he should seek help. It'd take at least half the time to get back to town that it'd taken him to get here, which would be ten minutes at best, and then he'd have to find ponies able and willing to run into the forest, organise a rescue effort, find this place again, and-

He shook his head, summoning his courage. He could do this. He had to do this. He was Spike the Dragon, famed hero of the Crystal Empire and right-hand dragon to Princess Twilight herself. It was his duty to keep the creatures of Equestria safe, and he would not be found wanting. Steeling himself with a deep breath, he took a large step off the dirt path and into the foliage, the grass and ferns brushing against him threateningly as he moved. Suddenly, the sense of calm and serenity vanished, and the ease of the day withered. He gulped, but pressed on, reminding himself of what he had to do.

The sounds grew louder as he approached, brief bursts of noise that he managed to work towards, homing in on its source. Now he was closer, he could confirm it; there was a creature, the groans he heard definitely vocalisations from something. In addition, there was something else, too, a tone of frustration under the throaty exhalations. He was close now, the creature no more than twenty metres from him, obscured by a tree. With a hint of trepidation, and preparing himself for what he might find, Spike peeked around the trunk blocking his view, expecting to be exposed to the grusome scene of a body splayed out.

To his relieved surprise, there was a body splayed out, but it was very much uninjured, and judging from the size of the body, anything trying to harm it would be harmed itself. Resting with its back against a tree, the figure he'd come to help continued groaning, oblivious to the bystander watching on in awe and shock. It was huge, almost eye level with Spike from a sitting position, and bearing more muscle in a single arm than the drake had in his entire body. Every movement resulted in a shift of thick, layered muscle, rising to form hills amid the flat perfection of the rest of him. He - Spike supposed he should admit it was a he - was broad in the shoulders and packed more weight and mass than a stallion wearing full plate armour of the Royal Guard, and his torso was more immaculately presented than the ornate designs of the Guard's plate, too. As if carved into his very flesh, sharp, defining lines marked a six pack and pectorals that looked as if they could rend skin from bone, and the rounded swell of his triceps and biceps were at least as large as Spike's head, and his hands alone were large enough to enclose and crush a coconut.

Very large, very grabby hands that were currently wrapped around a mamouth member over a foot in length.

Spike gawked, neither noticing or caring that he was drooling, as the creature ran its grip up and down, stroking the thick pole of throbbing meat. It was a good thing that the creature hadn't been injured, if any mortal weapon could pierce the granite of his shredded body; he needed every drop of blood he had to power that absolute tower of a fuckstick.

As occupied as the creature was, he wasn't too far gone in his own thoughts to miss the pleasure-warped lip-smacking of the unwanted observer, and his eyes snapped open and locked onto Spike's suddenly mortified face. With a growl and a terrifyingly swift movemnet, the creature reached to his side and hurled something towards the drake, who yelped and tumbled over backwards, a heavy thud and springy boing following a second later. Looking up from the ground, the dragon's eyes widened at the blade lodged into the tree, a few inches to the side of where he'd been peeking from.

"W-wait, wait!" he called out, jumping up and flailing his arms in a panic. "Friendly, friendly! I'm unarmed! Don't hurt me!"

"Step out into the open!" the other creature called, his voice demanding and booming. "Show yourself, and prove to me you aren't here to harm me!"

The dragon hurried out into the open space, trembling as he did so, his heart thudding like a tiny drum. He waited for the cold bite of steel, expecting the creature to ignore his raised arms and lowered head, but not liking his chances of running. "I'm Spike. Spike the Dragon. P-Pleased to meet you." There was no response, and Spike grimaced, glancing up in anxious dips of his head, concerned that he'd be met with a blade between the eyes for his trouble.

"You don't look like a dragon," the creature commented at last. "At least, not the dragons I've heard about. Aren't they supposed to be fierce and frightening, or something?" He snorted. "Well, you don't look dangerous. You can relax now, and if you don't mind, bring me my knife back."

Spike let out a breath he'd been holding for several seconds, glad to hear he'd be living for another day, and hastened to do as he was asked. When he turned to the tree, he balked upon laying eyes on the 'knife' he was supposed to retrieve. The thing looked more like a shortsword to him, and had to be buried several inches into the solid hardwood. Grasping the handle, he pulled, receiving nothing for his efforts, and strained harder. The blade didn't budge, even as he placed his feet onto the tree and tried to pry it from the trunk. The seconds passed by, the drake grunting and yanking with all his strength, to no avail.

"Never mind," the other creature said at last, sniggering at the display. "I'll get it myself later. Don't worry about it."

Awkwardly letting go and dropping back to the floor, Spike accepted defeat and turned back to the assailaint who'd launched the not-so-small knife at him in the first place. Now that there wasn't as much focus on the salacious activity that had drawn him here in the frist place, Spike was able to get a good look at the male, noticing the towering antlers that protuded from the top of the creature's head, raising proudly a couple of feet further into the air. They looked sharp and dangerous, and gave the already intimidating male the presence of a natural predator.

"Um, sorry for startling you," the drake spoke, filling the silence. "I thought you were in pain, so I came to see if I could help."

"Nah," the other male spoke, gesturing to his flagging wang. It was still huge, even having lost some of its stiffness, laying across the male's belly. "Just jerking off. If you came to be a hero, you can leave now, 'cause I'm gonna get right back to it. Unless you want to stay and watch. Don't care either way."

"Well...I did say I'd come to help," Spike pointed out. "And you look really pent up and kinda lonely out here...can I at least offer something that might be of use to you?" Reaching down to his side, he unbuttoned the satchel he was carrying with him, full of useful items that he never left home without. Rummaging through for a second, he found what he was looking for, and tossed a litre bottle over to the other male, who snatched it out of the air with one hand. With a nod of thanks, he flipped open the cap and poured a sizable stream of the contents onto his rapidly rehardening cock, before clicking it back shut and tenderly tossing it to back to the drake. It still smacked into his chest with a thud, and Spike grunted, rubbing the point of impact.

"Thanks," the buff male stated. "I guess I owe you my name too, eh? Name's Blacktail."

"A pleasure," the dragon replied politely, taking a few steps forward, carefully measuring how close he could get. True to his word, Blacktail didn't react, uncaring if the smaller male did stop and ogle the lewd display.

"What are you doing out here in the Everfree Forest with a bottle of lube?"

"I always carry it," Spike replied. "It's one of my many useful things, ever since..." He paused, memories of powerful, sweaty dragons dominating him in a myriad of ways pushing their way to the front of his mind. Ember had been furious that he'd foregone their appointment for something as mundane as muscle-clad hunks offering him wild pleasure, and had undertaken some very creative ways to punish him. "...well, since something happened. It's got me out of sticky situations. As for why I'm in the Everfree Forest, I'm visiting a zebra who-"

"Zecora?" Blacktail interrupted.

"Yes. You know her?"

"Absolutely. She's the one who made me like this." He curled his arm up, his bicep tightening and rising several inches. Spike did his best to not drool. "If it weren't for her, I'd be cooped up in my village, begging raiders to not burn everything down again."

"What?" the dragon asked, incredulous. "You? Cowering?" Just how terrifying were these raiders?

"Yeah, I know, right?" the jacked male responded with a chuckle. "Unbelievable I used to be like that. Problem was, none of us were tough or strong, and it's real hard to tell woodland predators to leave you alone when you're half their size, and bullying you into giving them half your stuff is easier than them making it themselves. Most of the village wanted to move, head somewhere else, but me and two of my pals thought we should fight. We were laughed at, then thrown out when we insisted. Something about us getting the rest of them killed with our attitude. Anyway, we had to find a solution, so we headed for a mysterious creature in the Everfree Forest. Damn near killed us to get there, but at last, we found her."

"Zecora," Spike guessed.

"She was every bit as amazing as the legends said," Blacktail continued, affirming the drake's question with a nod. His hand moved casually up and down his length as he spoke, as if an automatic process. "Listened to our plight, sympathised, and concocted us a real nice custom potion. Turned us from weedy little bucks into hulking beasts of war. It hurt like a bitch, and we were starving after the transformation, but we figured it was a fair price. Because of her, we were able to head back to our village, confront the raiders trying to rob us blind, and save our people." He sighed happily, the memory clearly bringing him no small amount of satisfaction. "We deer owe that zebra our entire existence, and I'm not forgetting it any time soon."

"Wait, deer?" Spike asked, tilting his head. "You're a deer? As in...deer?"

"Yes, I'm a deer," Blacktail confirmed. "Was a weedy little buck, but grew out of it. Same as my friends. I know, I know; deers are graceful, elegant, and slender, right? Yeah, we are. We have warriors, sure, but we're not usually ones for aggression or violence. Much as we hate to admit it, we survive by running away and hiding. If something chases us, we can usually ambush them or take them out one by one, if we're careful. If something rocks up to our village as a warband, or a huge raiding party? We are boned. They can take our stuff, and all we can do is hope they leave enough behind for us to survive the winter. We can't do anything one-on-one. Only reason we survived this long is because our elder made a deal with the raiders to leave us alone, provided we paid tribute. 50% of our property didn't sound too bad an exchange for survival."

"It...isn't the worst offer in the world," Spike conceded.

"Nah, it isn't," Blacktail agreed, grunting in frustration. His grip hardened a bit, and he sped up his stroking. "Until that 50% changes to 70%, then 80%. Or until our elder is made to step down in exchange for some other buck who's easier to control. I can't blame him; real good buck named Nettle, did good by all of us. He confronted the raiders, said we could only pay 50%, as that was the original deal, and that if we all starved or froze, there'd be no one left to make the tribute they wanted. They agreed, reducing it back down to 50%...if he abdicated. Being the good, honourable buck he was, he did, putting the safety of his people above his own ambition, and his son was instated in his place; Elder Dodder of the Sting Lineage. Never liked the kid; arrogant, thought that being the elder's son made him the hottest shit in the woods. Well, now he was the elder, and he got real buddy-buddy with the raiders he was supposed to protect us against. The quota was never officially raised above 50% again, but they'd always find reasons we didn't give enough. Sometimes we had to make it up to them with some of our women." The buff buck snorted in disgust.

"The others noticed, started talking about moving on. I proposed we fight, that we don't just lay down and take it. The others were afraid, and I couldn't even blame them for that. Then Elder Dodder heard about it, called me for a meeting with the others. I gave my point of view, tried to rally the others to my cause. He asked if anyone agreed, and my friends supported me, came to my side and proclaimed they would fight with me. It seemed to be going our way. There was hope. Then he explained that it was foolish, and that I was trying to have them all killed so I could take more of the village's wealth for myself. He terrified all of them with talk of fire and death, and how he alone could keep them all safe. He painted a picture of me being some usurper, and banished us from the village."

"What a dick," Spike commented. The deer snorted in amused agreement.

"Kind words," the buck grunted as an answer. "With nowhere else to go, we hedged our bets on the old legends we heard of some zebra in the dark and dangerous forest of Everfee. If I hadn't been desperate or driven on by rage and a need for closure, I never would've made it. I would've died, or more likely, just given up and moved to some pony town. Still, we pushed on, and to our surprise, found her. The rest, you know; she made us a potion, turned us into the warriors we needed to be. When I asked why, how she could trust us, she said she saw the truth in our hearts, that we were noble and gallant, and that we'd use our newfound strength wisely.

"We didn't go to the village at first. Didn't want Dodder alerting the raiders. Instead, we waited for their raiding party to make its way along the usual path to our village, then ambushed them. When they sent another party, we ambushed that one, too. Then, finally, we struck at their camp, tearing down their standards and banners, and taking our loot. With our hands around his throat, we made the chieftan of the raiders swear to never touch us again. We made him swear it, gathered all his men around to hear. He promised, begging forgiveness. We accepted, taking back everything they'd ever stolen from us, and then some of their stuff, too. Last I heard, he was disposed, and the clan disbanded not long afterwards.

"We wrote a letter to Dodder, pretending to be terrified, asking him, pleading with him, to let us back into the vilage. He scorned us, reading it out to the vilage, mocking us with silly tones and playing up our fear. He didn't know we were listening in, listening to him trying to belittle us. Of course, he dismissed our claim that the raiders were no more of a threat, and that we'd stolen some of our wealth back while they were wiped out by a hungry dragon. He ripped up the letter and proclaimed that we would never, ever step foot within the territories of our village ever again.

"We stepped foot in the very centre of the village carrying crates of fruit, gold, and medicine, just to watch his jaw drop. He was shocked into silence, and ordered the warriors to seize us, or strike us down, but none did. When he realised that, he changed tone, trying to welcome us back, promising that his actions were all done to secure the village's safety, and that his theatrics were merely an attempt to convince the raiders that the village wasn't rising up in rebellion. It was all just a big misunderstanding, see?"

"What did you do with him?" Spike asked, awed by the story. A tiny part of him was terrified, worried that the tale was going to end in a dark and gruesome manner. The buck slowed his self-applied handjob, nearly stopping entirely.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to kill him," he admitted. "I thought about it. I pictured snapping his neck in front of everyone there, imagined how good it'd make me feel. In the end, though, I didn't. It didn't feel right. He might've been a scumbag, a yellow-bellied coward, a traitor, and a disgrace to all deer that have ever existed, but he wasn't a threat to me. I wasn't going to become a murderer. Zecora told us that we had good hearts, and that we'd be wise with our newfound strength, and I was determined to live up to her expectations of us. Instead, I revoked his title, stripped him of his powers and position, and handed them over to his father. To my surprise, Nettle didn't want them back. He said he'd outgrown them, and that I was far more suitable for the role. I had respect for him before, but now, I was in awe. He truly did love us."

"Wait, so...you're a king?" Spike asked, wondering if he should bow.

"We don't have kings," Blacktail informed the drake. "Never have. I didn't know what to do, but the village was overwhelmingly in support of me taking the title of Elder, so I accepted. I also created two new positions to help me rule, one for each of the two who had accompanied me on my journey, stuck with me through thick and thin. I didn't know if I was wise enough to rule, but maybe three deer could do a good enough job, and who better than those who'd stood with me from the very beginning?"

"And...what happened to Dodder?" the drake asked, receiving a deep chuckle from the deer, whose hand sped up once more.

"I told you I had massive respect for Nettle when he was Elder, and so I didn't want to see his bloodline disappear," the stacked male explained. "We had to rule and protect the village, but since only us three had drank Zecora's potion, it was up to us to embark on the most dangerous of tasks, like foraging for rare herbs for medicines. That's why I'm here today, by the way; the village needs some Tangleweed and Dropfern. Anyway, since all three of us have to leave, I asked for Nettle's blessing to have his daughter, Ivy, rule in our stead. He agreed, and in exchange, I would have exclusive permanent mating rights with her."

"Does that make her your...slave?"

"What?" Blacktail asked, frowning. "No. Mating to deers is different. It's a bond, more than just slapping cheeks. Mating is a sort of temporary companionship, and comes in different styles. There's communal mating, which speaks for itself, exclusive mating, which is between two deers for a set period of time, privileged mating, which means only certain deer can be involved for a set period, and permanent mating, which is basically what you call marriage. You have to agree on what that entails, though; I gather you're not meant to sleep around if you're married. In my case, I've got free reign, while Ivy's mine, and mine alone."

"That sounds...possessive," Spike commented, choosing not to push the issue too far. "But that doesn't answer what happened to Dodder."

"Dodder has the benefit of knowing I'm railing his sister every single night," the deer grinned, smug as fuck. "I make sure he hears, and the four fawns we have running around now is a constant reminder of what I've got that he hasn't. Aside from that, my two buddies and me have privileged permanent mating rights with his previous partner, which is another seven fawns. I think two of them are mine." He shrugged, leaning back and sighing happily as he worked his pole once more, the slick, wet sound of lube accompanying his movements.

"So...h-how does the mating system work exactly?" Spike asked, eyes fixated on the buck's oiled, mechanical movements. "Do you, like, agree to it, or are you told?"

"In summary, negotiations," Blacktail answered. "You approach another deer, put your terms on the table, and see what they want in return. If you both agree at the end of it, then you have a mating agreement. You can't negotiate with a deer who's exclusive, obviously, unless the exclusive parties agree to end their agreement. Most deer in my village are communal, or otherwise very inclusive. That's been more than beneficial for me, let me tell you. Before I met Zecora, I was very, very average. Got a few average lays a year, maybe, never during estrus, though. Sometimes I got a pity fuck. After became this, though, every doe wants my children. We've even presided over situations where a doe wants to end her permanent exclusive mating arrangement with a buck so she can get dicked by me, ha! Obviously, we had to establish boundaries, let the village know that these agreements were serious, and that they should never be taken lightly. The stability of our people's civilisation rests on it, after all.

"And then there's the bucks! Never thought about bedding a buck before I got swole, but damn, some of us sure do look like a snack. I used to be really apathetic towards butts - they exist for a reason, sure, but they're just kinda there - and went straight for big jiggling tits, but ever since a cute little buck approached me during my inaguration feast and asked to lay with me, my world's been turned upside down. Can't get enough of thick-bottomed bucks and bitches now. Unf!" He thrust up, a squirt of pre sailing up a meter before splattering onto the forest floor next to him. "Straight-up natural padding for a raw, real rut."

"Y-yeah," Spike agreed, unable to prevent himself from salivating. "We're pretty good, huh? Just...really robust."

"You said it," the deer grunted, chuckling. "Tight holes, soft asses - no better way to end a hard day of fighting monsters and providing for a grateful village. I even had this one buck who said he needed help getting his doe pregnant. Said they'd been trying for years. Now, I'm amazing, but I'm not a dick, so I proposed something else; I said he had to breed her, but I'd be there helping him pump the thickest, stickiest load into her that he could. So, we spend the next six hours balls deep inside one another. I squeezed and wrung every drop of spunk from his body that he could produce, absolutely slamming into his pert little butt, while he clung onto his lover, creaming her over and over and over. Two months later, congratz; she's pregnant, and they both end up sucking my dick all night as a thanks."

"F-fuck," Spike whimpered, dropping to his knees. It was too much; the idea that this burly, big-dicked beefcake had such a lewd and, in the drake's humble opinion, awe-inspiring reign over what amounted to a harem of loving, doting cuties was practically a fantasy. Was he dreaming? Was this some lucid dream in which he was doomed to wake up? It couldn't be; his own little cock was straining so hard it hurt, staining his dark jeans with a wet patch.

"You okay there?" Blacktail asked, not sounding concerned in the slightest. "You look like you're running on fumes. Need something? Huge intake of protein, maybe?"

"I-I..." the dragon stammered, his slobber dripping onto the ground.

"Come on, spit it out," the deer encouraged. "You've been eye-balling me since you stumbled across me. Just admit you want some deer dick and get over here." There was a pause, during which the femboy tried to stand up, his head swimming and his heart pounding. "Now! Jump to it!"

The barked order made Spike jump, and he scuttered over to the buck as quickly as he could, crawling on all fours like a pet towards his new master. The closer he drew, the stronger the need to obey grew, until he was directly in front of the sitting stud. He could see the powerful throb of the gargantuan prick as Blacktail's heart beat, each pulse a teasing invitation to taste the glistening cockflesh, the layer of lube doing nothing to disguise the raw, unwashed smell of a brutish male. Spike took gentle sniffs, the hot whiff of Blacktail's scent singeing his nostrils, until he was between the buck's legs, his head descending ever lower. Reaching his destination, the femboy pressed his snout against the fuzzy nutsack, making sure he was surrounded by the wrinkled skin, and inhaled deeply.

The acrid burn of musk seared Spike's nasal, leaving his eyes watering and his cock twitching, oozing a stream of pre that swiftly soaked through the denim. It was so feral, so proper, and the femboy whimpered in gracious delight, dragging in another noseful of the thick, heady odour that he craved. He sniffed and snorted, drinking in the scrumptious reek that he could only get from someone whose body had been blessed with an abundance of every masculine trait, letting the musk roll over his brain like a fog. He would've continued drowning himself in the nose-numbing fumes if it hadn't been for a sudden whack at his rear, the sharpness cutting through the musk-induced haze.

"Are you gonna get to work?" Blacktail asked impatiently. "Start doing something, or I'm gonna tie you to a tree and leave you for a timberwolf."

The words obliterated Spike's blissful fugue and jolted him into clarity. Urgency took ahold of him, and, unwilling to disappoint the adonis, he refocused his efforts with a fierce determination, his tongue slithering out to wrap around the tremendous orbs one at a time, his forked tip flicking up and down to taste and touch at every curve. He made sure to clean every wrinkle of the sweaty sack, smoothing out the skin with an insistent thoroughness, and delving his tongue between the two dense nuts, leaving nothing untasted. Blacktail grunted approvingly above him, but the sound was muffled by the excited pounding of the dragon's heart - or maybe it was the sheer amount of musk infused in the air around the deer's crotch, absorbing the sound like thick cloud blocked out sunlight? Either way, it didn't matter; the deer hadn't seen anything yet.

The twin jewels were heavy, and the seed inside them sloshed as Spike lifted them out of the way. Whatever Blacktail thought of Spike's attentive oral so far, there was no mistaking the loud, unruly groan as the dragon's serpentine tongue lanced in between the buck's buttocks and lashed at the vice-tight ring nestled between them. The tensing, the raising of the hips, the clamping of ass cheeks around his jaw, the flexing of the vulnerable wrinkled asshole - it fed Spike's desire, the hot, humid scent burning his nose and tongue as it flowed over his taste buds and into his nasal, filling his head with a fresh wave of simpering flame. He didn't let up, running on muscle memory as he rimmed the vocal stud, unable to properly hear what was being said, but comprehending it anyway; there was no way to mistake the impulsive roll of the hips, or the involuntary pincering of his snout between those diamond-hard buns. Either Spike was amazing at his job - which he knew he was, admittedly - or this deer had never had his ass eaten before. The possibility that he was the first to expose the hunk to such carnal delights sent a shiver through the drake, and he felt a spurt of pre splash against his jeans, his underwear sodden.

The rough grab at his head made Spike gasp, dragging in a huge lungful of the hot, sour smell he adored, and he was forcefully yanked away from the sweaty swamp and up towards the tintanium tower of the stud's throbbing, pulsating meat. It was glistening with freshly applied lube, the cumslit oozing fresh, clear nectar to join the copious amount already clinging to the pole.

"Hope you've got iron lungs," Blacktail grunted, shoving Spike's head downwards and ramming the entirety of his length down the drake's throat. "Because you're gonna need 'em!" The length was already significant - the tip of the shaft speared into his gullet and neared his stomach before the drake's gag reflex could even register the violation - but the girth was what made the experience intense. The deer had a jaw-achingly thick cock, and Spike was instantly grateful that he'd spent so much time practicing on increasingly large martial aids since returning from the Dragonlands. The pre-cum and lube helped the rough impalement, but it was his own self-taught cocksucking skills that kept him intact as the buck began jerking the purple slut's head up and down, using him as a convenient fleshlight. It was all Spike could do to relax and allow the ravishing of his throat.

Spittle was flung against the deer's belly and the drake's face, drool running over scales and fur as the merciless reaming increased in ferociousness. Nuts, heavy and swollen, slammed against Spike's chin, and the wet gluck-gluck-gluck that was so usual for his practice session sounded out louder and more urgent. The shaft thickened as it pulsed, every vein weaving across the cockflesh like a ridge to further stimulate his hungry, slutty throat, and he felt his jeans growing ever wetter with pre as he was lovingly abused. His eyes rolled back and began to water, the combination of roughness, pleasure, muskiness, and the unrestrained grunting and yelling of the stud as he finally crossed the precipice being the best gift the effeminate dragon could hope to receive.

The buck bellowed as he came, forcing Spike down to the very base, nose pressed against pelvic fur damp with slobber, lube, and sweat. The dragon inhaled gratefully, breathing in the masculinity of the beast pumping what felt like litres of spunk into his stomach, the hot gush flooding his insides and the pipe from which it came stretching his esophagus like he'd never felt before. It felt right, and he giggled happily, gargling around the rigid pole lodged in his throat.

Blacktail didn't pull out until he was satisfied, leaving the dragon laying limply against him, vision darkening, before he yanked the purple cumsock back. Spike gasped, dragging in cold, biting air, tasteless after the rich, creamy treat that was still thick on his tongue. There was no trace of jizz left on or in the deer's cock; its surface was immaculate, glistening from the tongue-bath the dragon had given him.

"Nice work," the buck huffed at last, standing up. "You're a natural cocksucker, and a dirty slut too. My friends are gonna love you."

"Th-thank you," Spike simpered, throat hoarse and his voice breathy. He worked his jaw, rubbing it pitifully, the ache fading mercifully fast. It took him longer than it should've to register the words that had been spoken. "Y-your friends?"

"Yeah. What, you think you get to milk more of a load out of me than any three does in my village combined and not have an obligation to treat the rest of us?" He snorted, leaning down and hoisting the wide-eyed femboy up into an easy, one-armed carry. "Let's get going. Take the time to get your strength back; you're gonna need it." He began walking, each step of his languid stride carrying them frighteningly far. Spike's arms tightened around the buck's broad shoulders, his arms like twigs compared to the hard oak of Blacktail's frame. He leaned in close, nuzzling the damp fur, and breathed in.

The air smelled positively fragrant today, he decided, smiling to himself.