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“And again! Thank you for participating in New Rolla’s repopulation program! Your efforts will be rewarded!”

As the reel stopped and the lights turned on, the public remained in awe. New Rolla was a recently established town, but it was so rich that it provided amenities to any men wanting to join the repopulation program. Free housing, free foods, monthly caps—it was everything a man could need within the Wastelands and beyond. Many were merchants or inhabitants of the surface; a few wore the used Vault-tec jumpsuit. A few wore garbs pertaining to older congregations like the Brotherhood of Steel or Cesar’s legion.

All those were absolved of their previous crimes as long as they worked for New Rolla and produced heirs… All but one.

“Go on, go on. You can leave by the little door on your left. We will take your signatures and do a city tour once you’re all set and done!”

A cheerful but naïve presenter asked people to leave, standing by his pulpit while the crowd spoke, cheered, or even laughed at that unique presentation. Happy faces and an expectant future awaited them. Again... but one.

“Oh, right! I forgot about you!” chuckled the young Presenter, clad in a perfect and clean light-blue suit. He readjusted his tie and approached, nearly bounced, towards the Raider.

Bald with no hair left atop his head, bushy salt-and-pepper beard, eyes hidden behind sunglasses, and his lips pursed; the old Raider almost looked caricatural in the way he resembled the bikers of old. However, his large stature and the scars across his right cheeks and his entire body revealed more of a story of gang fights and constant meddling.

“Yes. You don’t want to forget the old Harry. He, too, wants some good ladies to breed,” chuckled the Raider as he outstretched his cuffed hands and legs. He smiled to show his golden teeth, uneven, amidst the real ones.

“Oh, sorry, Harry. The presentation wasn’t meant for you. We don’t have a prison, and the room was busy for this row of newcomers. But don’t worry,” started the young man with an unfeigned apologetic expression. “We will make it right by you!”

“Yeah… Sure,” said Harry as the Presenter didn’t approach any further. His smile disappeared, his hands dropped, and so were his legs as he watched the young man fiddle with a pip-boy.

For a moment, the old Raider thought about interrupting him… Instead, he brought his hand to his shirt and vest, going through the pockets. He had been patted down and his guns removed. Even his precious knife. But they allowed him to keep his cigars and lighter as he picked one and the latter.

He kept glancing at his “host” while puffing until a loud bip echoed within the room, and the presentation screen split off.

Not only the screen but the steel wall behind seemed to bend and creak, revealing an opening from which escaped a musty hot air. But nothing. However, the old Raider’s bushy brows lifted in surprise as he stood up and turned to the young lad, puffing a cloud of smoke in his direction.

“Secret prison just for me? Shit. It’s even better than death. What you got in there? A secret army. An arsenal? What else?” chuckled the old Raider, taking another huff.

“Not quite,” answered the peepy Presenter, his pimpled face telling everything Harry needed to know as the young man beckoned him to follow. However, he wasn’t rushing, and the old Raider could follow easily.

“Not quite? That’s a bunker, even if I can’t read shit. Old one, too. Military?”

“No. Scientific. But we repurposed it for a different project! For you, with all your strength and might, will be reformed and become an important part of breeding our new army!”

“Oh… Ohhhh! An army?” chuckled Harry, raising his left brow, lewdly. “Ladies. I’ll breed you lots of little Harry for the front. That right, Peepy?”

“Peepy?”

“Yeah. I didn’t read your name. And you sound a Peepy to me.”

“Peepy…”

The Presenter seemed thoughtful as he advanced, guiding Harry down. After the opening was a flight of stairs, all immaculate steel, leading into the depths. However, the deeper they went, the hotter the temperature became, to the point that it was starting to be stuffy for the old Raider. He unbuttoned his shirt over his fuzzy chest and pulled on the fabric. But still, sweat was clinging to his skin, whereas Peepy was all peachy and fresh.

“Woah. You should tune down the temperature. It’s hot in there!” said Harry, not so smiling as they arrived on the ground floor despite the difficulties and advanced through the corridors. Left and right were mirrors, reverberating the old Harry’s face on them. One he checked as he approached, passing a hand over his tanned and leathery cheeks and then pulling on his lips to see if someone stole him a gold tooth after he got stunned in his last fight.

“Come on, Harry. You don’t want to make your new partners wait, right?” asked Peepy, tipping his head and inviting the Raider to follow through a door into a dark room. And… Harry followed. Until he heard a clang and was entirely in the dark. Something even stabbed him in the neck, and for a moment, he tried to punch what had hit him.

“The hell?” he shouted, surprised by the sudden assault. Before the neon light above his head turned on and he was in… a cell? Without windows, without bars… Only walls and two doors. One on the opposite side and one behind him.

He was alone, but simultaneously, he watched the “finely” furnished room for Wasteland's standards. It had a clean mattress on a steel bed. Toilets and showers were in a corner, and a fridge was on the side. There was even a TV screen with a sofa.

That place was… Great!

“Fuck? Where’s my girl, Peepy? And where are you?”

“I’m sorry for the confusion and the deception, Harry. But there is no girl. See… You will breed us an army… Of Deathclaw. Or rather, you will be bred to carry an army.”

“WHAT IN HELL?” he shouted, bringing a hand to his neck. It was warm; the skin around there was exceedingly so. So much it throbbed under the touch, and his eyes half-closed. Whatever he had been stabbed with, it looked like a drug was now in his system and messed with him. He sighed, breathed, and frowned as no answer came. Only grunts… And growls from the other side of the room… But nothing there.

“HEY! PEEPY! I’LL BREAK EVERYTHING IS YOU DON’T RELEASE ME!” shouted Harry, again, while he looked at the furniture. That stuff was too clean and proper not to cost a hell lot of caps.

CLANG!

After a second, Harry looked down to notice his cuffs had dropped. Hands and ankles. Were they remotely controlled? He felt like a fool as he leaned to grab the weighty chains, weigh it… Before he threw it aside and grumbled.

“Please, Harry,” suddenly said the voice from the intercom as the TV turned on itself. “Be civil. And let’s sit. Shall we? I’ll talk.”

The raider scowled, groaned… Still, he sat and crossed his arms as he looked at the screen. An old-time baseball game. Something he had watched, younger. That type of sport was unheard of in those parts of the wastelands, although he had heard there were baseball games far up north. He often wondered if he should go up there… Instead, he was there, watching people throwing balls… And sometimes, the screen flashed so much he had to blink. Still, Harry talked.

“So what, Peepy? You think I bed with lizards?” said Harry… Turning to see the tiny coffee table had a compartment, he opened it instantly to be welcomed by a fresh bottle of Nuka Cola. It was… Good. A good thing as he popped it open and took a swig. It was good, fresh, and tastier than the stuff he had found outside.

He sipped and enjoyed it while his neck kept throbbing. But still, he endured. He had been hit: they didn’t want him to die; otherwise, they would have done so. Plus, the pain was bearable, but it wasn’t torture as he was given to drink. Unless that was a way to extort him information… But he endured the strange sensation that slowly spread along his guts.

“I don’t think so, Harry. Most of our residents are quite opposed to the idea at first. Tell me, what do you know of Deathclaws?” asked Peepy’s voice, altered.

“Big ass Lizard with claws sharp enough to cut your neck. Big horns. Brutal. Savage. Eager to hunt and eat you,” said Harry, watching the flashing screen again. There was something there, but he always blinked.

“Wrong. Deathclaws are a mutation formed from the F-… From the radioactive fallout. But they’re brilliant. Enough you can communicate with them and establish rules. They have a bad rap out in the wastelands. But here, in our utopia, they will be the steadfast guardians of peace!”

“You talk with the lizards? That’s rich!”

“Oh yes! They have quite an intelligence, rough, I must concede. But they are smart and adapting well to the rules of society.”

“Yeah, yeah. And you’ll tell me they have politics, vote for republicans, and they go to clock to work like every other?”

“Not quite. But is that what you would tell your husband?”

Harry cocked an eyebrow at the remark, only to sense… A breath against his neck. He stiffened and looked, only to notice a snout appear in his peripheral vision. Dark green scales with cream-colored ones around the jaw. Red eyes. Big ass horns. Everything that made a Deathclaw’s face as terrifying as possible. At that moment, he froze… And felt something warm rush between his legs.

He… needed new pants.

“H- Hey… Easy big guy, don’t eat me,” said Harry with raised hands as that muzzle approached him, and those nostrils dilated. The beast sniffed him and-

“Have a good honeymoon!”

Harry glared at the intercom but returned to the beast, who approached and nudged forward, their heads barely a few inches away.

“St-ep back. Slowly, big guy. I don’t wa- Glh!”

Harry’s eyes widened as something warm, hot, sticky, and coated with liquid plunged into his mouth. He gargled, too, when that wide tongue, sprouting from the Beast’s open maw, forced itself within his throat. His eyes rolled as he felt his uvula properly tickled and forced on. Yet, no gag reflex. His bloodshot eyes widened as he felt the interior of his throat bulge and be crushed by that tongue while the beast’s breath and tongue spread a rather sweet taste all over his tongue: sweet but not too much. Maybe like properly-made jerky?

He frowned, thinking why… It was so easy. Why were those red eyes focused and frowning on him yet doing nothing.

And why… He felt the urge to lick the Beast’s tongue?

Yet, he did, slurping and licking the Deathclaw appendage like it was a popsicle, his tongue dancing over the veins beneath and the little nodules there. Nodules he nudged, only to find they were the source of that sweet taste… That sweet nectar. He… Licked some more, his breath reduced to a trickle before the Beast’s clawed fingers were over his shoulders and… Pushed Harry back.

The Tongue popped free of his lips, and he gasped for air, his lips almost blue. But he… Felt oddly good. His body was warm, his mouth still repeating that flavor he had sucked and licked. His bloodshot eyes wandered on the massive Deathclaw before his eyes, which observed him as much as he observed the Beast.

Massive body, slightly hunched. Covered with spines here and there, long, powerful arms, and so were the legs and the tail. Broad chest around the pectorals but growing thinner along the torso, along the waist… Along…

“Oh… Fuck,” mumbled Harry in a short moment of clarity.

“Hmm hmm!” suddenly blared the intercom once more, captivating both’s attention. “Just to warn you. With the last injection I made to you, Harry, you should be able to endure and be bred. That’s all. Tata!”

Harry looked at the intercom. Then at the Beast, which looked back at him and… For the better or worse, the Raider was sure he saw the Deathclaw… Smile.

“Bed,” even said the Creature with that same smile, the voice as husky as the Raider, if not more.

“… Huh. B-Bed,” Harry said with uncertainty in his eyes. He had seen the beast’s erection, and somehow, he was hard as steel, too. Shit, he would have punctured his old pants, too. Yet, his erection was hard and painful as the Beast released his shoulder and… He followed the Deathclaw’s movements towards the mattress on the other side of the room.

“Coming?”

Harry stood stunned for a second. He was horny, in jail, underground, probably at the mercy of a crazy scientist or something. And he was about to follow a big ass monstrous lizard, able to decapitate him in a swoop. Worse, it felt… Hot.

Taboo.

Exciting.

“Fuck…” he groaned, passing a hand over his neck. “Yes. Coming.”

The mattress… Well, the bed was of good quality. He sat on it, his hand stroking the surface before the puzzled lizard. Though… Said Deathclaw was still rockhard and sniffing the arm like in heat, the tail swinging left and right.

“It’s… Uh… Fuck,” started Harry, trying to say something smart as the Beast looked at him. Yet… he shook his head and undid his shirt and belt. He threw his vest, shirt… belt. And when they were all off, he started to kick his boots… And so his pants, kicking and grunting, leaning on the bed while he pulled the tight jeans off and… Stopped, dropping like a dead weight when he got nothing but old, worn-off, and holey briefs. Especially now, he felt the Beast’s breath upon those tears, tingling his tufty groin and testicles, especially when one was almost slipping through a hole.

Much like his beard, his pubes were graying and were in such an ample amount they covered his nethers. But was it enough to deter the Beast? Not at all when the Deathclaw opened his maw so close to Harry’s belly. Those teeth were… Well, serrated enough to dig within his soft skin and flesh. He trembled under the breath… And his heartbeat quickened.

Then… The Beast opened his mouth wide, letting that tongue out and… Dancing over Harry’s belly.

Despite the papillae and the rough texture on the tongue, it danced with virtuosity on the Raider’s tanned skin. It danced, collected beads of sweat, slathering the happy trail with saliva, and slowly descended over that round belly… Down. Down in the lower reaches, down the lower belly… Down against the unruly and unruled pubes.

Down… Against the Briefs’ strap, it started to lick. The fabric was tense due to Harry’s erection, tense so much it formed a tent with a wet spot at the top while the lower side pulled his nuts up. An expression of desire the Deathclaw understood as that tongue pulled on the strap… Only for the strap to slip and make the Beast growl.

“Wait… Let me d-“ started Harry, only to see the Beast’s teeth carefully picking up the strap and… SNAP!

Done was the steadfast underwear that had served him well over the months. Such quality cotton would be missed by the old Raider, his testicles and cock no longer held by the graces of the fabric’s heavenly touch. He groaned, but with the strap undone, his briefs could be pulled down by the tongue and… He sighed as the Deathclaw’s was on his fuzzy testicles, large and heavy like apples. And then on his shaft, big and large… Well, what that was most people told him against a few caps.

But with a five incher, more thick than long, his dick was closer to a tiny can… And… Well, nothing compared to a Deathclaw’s erection. Nonetheless, the Beast’s tongue continued that dance. At first, the nuts were graced: the coarse texture was perfect for scratching the wrinkly skin and cleaning off the sweat that might have accumulated between them.

However, it didn’t stop as the tongue’s tip ascended over the Cock’s base. Then up… Then upward, along the throbbing length, until it reached the top. There, the tip moved along the cocktip and rolled around the urethra before it slipped… Against the corona and inside Harry’s foreskin, it peeled down and played with, collecting the precum that had been there after he popped a boner.

Harry, without surprise, moaned while the prehensile appendage undulated and rolled against his cock. Such a greedy exploration was unlike anything he had experienced. Even the most eager girls in the lost wastelands weren’t as hungry. And he groaned… He groaned, feeling the Deathclaw’s warm breath approach his cock and then… Encompass it. But no lips. And luckily, no teeth.

He grumbled, feeling the Deathclaw making love with his cock. It was… Special, hot, taboo, warm… His fingers grabbed the mattress while that tongue managed to coil around his dick and stroke it.

Up… Down. Up… Down. It moved at a heightening pace, the Deathclaw’s red eyes entirely focused on Harry as he mumbled, groaned… And growled, too. He growled as his prostate and cock were getting warmer, as his ass clenched, as his legs tightened near the Beast’s head. And… He sighed.

“Hrmphh… Go- Good head,” he said, throwing his head back and watching the neon light above. The tongue around his cock slowed down, but they were still milking him off. The stroking was slow, and the tickling of his nuts was delicate. But that beast was milking him off and slurping all that cum.

Slowly, he raised his hand and approached the Beast’s head, only to stop when he heard the Deathclaw’s growls.

“Slo… Stop. You can stop,” mumbled Harry, his voice breaking before his cock was suddenly let go in an avalanche of slobber mixed with cum, making a mess of it.

“Not done,” answered the Beast, the red eyes still over Harry.

The Deathclaw looked hellbent, focused on an idea… An idea so sordid the Raider could only watch in awe while his dick softened and dropped on his hairy pubes, precum, cum, and saliva coated as it was. The Beast moved and flexed; that body moved with a purpose. The legs strained, the clawed hands grabbed the Raider’s legs to drag him closer to the legs. And… lifted him.

“Fu-Fuck!” cried Harry as he looked at what the beast packed. It was so big, so large. It was drooling mast. “I- I’ll die!”

“Ease.”

That was the Deathclaw's raspy and collected answer as that massive snout leaned and kissed the man’s pucker. Alas, that was it was meant to be when those massive sharpened teeth pressed against his cheeks but with enough care for those not to maim the soft skin. Rather, it was… Soft, exciting, dangerous.

It got Harry’s blood pumping through his body and carrying along more of that poison he had been stabbed with, with more lust and desires, until his manhood throbbed again and came to life like a mast.

A detail, truthfully, as the Raider’s mind focused on… The Deathclaw. From the massive mittens holding his legs spread and wide until his hips started to sting a little, to the palms’ pressure against his ankles, to the claws brushing his skin.

And… That mouth. Its warm breath against his tight and virginal asshole. He shivered at the dirty and perverted thought. But he exhaled… And gasped.

The Deathclaw’s tongue was inside. It had plunged against his hole, a warm and prehensile appendage, coated with saliva and such. It had forced against his rim and, through serpentine movements, entered his hole.

He gasped again, his body overtaken by… Yes, the odd and sensual sensation. His hole tenderly clenched around the tongue, but such a weak pressure couldn’t pin it down. It only amplified the sensation as the saliva opened and coated his hole, spreading that inner sensation of wetness that echoed the one between his cheeks, outside.

His eyes rolled at the moment… And without any else to grip, the old Harry went to grab his buttcheeks and split them.

Split them while the greedy and slithering tongue moved onward, rolled, passed, pushed, and advanced. In a moment of abandon, the Raider closed his eyes while he sensed his guts filled from inside by the Beast’s tongue. And the further the tongue went, the wider it became near his hole… Stretching it like one tiny finger at first, then a big one, then two, then three, then more.

More fingers that moved as one, as one big tongue deep within that scratched and rubbed against his every spot with that coarse surface, rough but not so excessive. Again… What was the purpose of resisting and clenching for the poor old Raider as his body was overtaken? He gasped, sighed… Even bit his lips while he sensed the beast’s heightened breath against his cheeks: the Deathclaw was excited. That proper tonguing, far enough Harry discovered new spots within him, seemed to have excited it.

“Fu-Fuck… You- You’re good,” he moaned with half-closed eyes while his right hand approached the Deathclaw’s muzzle. However, this time, the Beast didn’t resist or recoil. Beneath his digit, the scales and skin were akin to a soft mix: leathery in texture, but fresh to the touch. He stroked the Beast’s snout, and a pleasured rumble escaped the Deathclaw as that tongue started to pull back… And with it, Harry’s hole was freed.

A sticky, saliva-coated asshole that puckered and winked at the creature. A hole almost numbed to the pain from the anesthetic saliva the Deathclaw produced… A hole whose rim seemed to have swollen and got bigger, until it could have been compared to a glazed donut. A hole… Almost begging to be bred with its scent and tightness, at least for the Beast.

“You… Want it, do you?” asked Harry, his voice soft and weak. His right hand was still on the Deathclaw’s muzzle, stroking it with the palm. Perchance, the Beast didn’t push against it and seemed to enjoy the rub as it purred and had those red eyes half-closed. But the Human’s other hand progressed on his cheeks… He touched the hairy crevice, the hair covered with slobber and saliva… He felt the strands sticking to his calloused fingers while he progressed inward and… Reached his hole.

Beneath his index finger, he tried to hook the hole only to find the sensations dulled and the pain as well. He almost pinched it but found nothing but a warm and fuzzy feeling, complemented by a knowledge of how stretchy he could be.

One finger, two, three, he outstretched them in all directions despite the gasps it elicited. And… he found himself gaping so much he could almost take a fist inside, he guessed.

It would be… The minimum needed when he glanced at the Deathclaw’s genitals. One detail most gunners wouldn’t notice and for a reason. Unless aroused or in heat, the Deathclaw’s genitals were kept up inside and protected. However, as soon as the Deathclaw felt aroused… First dropped his testicles in a loose pouch between the legs until those big pendulous nuts smacked between the Beast’s legs at each movement, each orb bigger than Harry’s fist and warm to the touch.

Then… There was the Deathclaw’s slit. A discreet line that would never be touched. But again… mere arousal sufficed for that cock to slip outside.

First would appear the elongated cockhead, covered with soft spikes that bent and seemed to throb along the Beast’s heartbeat. Then, as the corona passed and the organ thinned, strange nodules would form along the cock’s underside, along a dozen that formed a line leading down to the cock’s base, where flesh would meet with the slit and the slit itself with the scrotum’s skin.

The length itself was enormous, wide… Veiny. Dotted with little growths and spikes that were surely to make the experience more… Spicy for females.

An experience that would be dangerous for humans. And yet, Harry was… Ready. Not that he could refuse, not when the Beast’s hands kept his legs spread, and he was locked in a cell with said Deathclaw. But he found an arousal within himself at the idea, something he couldn’t… Fathom before.

“Breedable,” commented the Deathclaw, the husky voice filling the room like a threat. In return, Harry nodded. He swallowed his saliva without surprise and clenched his teeth. His hands returned to his cheeks, and his sight was on the Beast towering above him. It was impossible to free himself and flee; it was even impossible to oppose it. And he wanted it. Sure, a part of his mind, unadulterated by the drug, wished for the survival instincts to kick in.

But they didn’t.

His eyes fixated on the Beast… On the movements taken as those red eyes got closer to Harry, nearly face to face. The reptilian musk emanating from the Deathclaw was numbing to the nose, but Harry still inhaled it. He took a whiff as his legs were pulled and his ass hanging from the bed’s edge. He trembled and shivered a bit. But didn’t step away as he felt the Deathclaw’s hard dick press between his cheeks. Against his skin, the Beast’s cock was warm and tense, heavy even against his ass.

He felt the pressure within it, the throb produced by each heartbeat. He sensed the excitation as much as he shared it himself. He gulped… And nodded.

“Breedable,” repeated the Deathclaw as if to confirm. And the thin cockhead was onto that pucker. Its thin tip was just perfect, then, to poke at Harry’s asshole. The tight pucker couldn’t resist the piercing needle… The approach, the push, the hit.

In a second, the Deathclaw’s cockhead was fully inserted inside, and the soft spikes were pulling on Harry’s asshole… They were there to anchor the Deathclaw within until breeding was over.

And their slight tug also reached the Man’s heartstring as thought, their presence akin to tiny caresses.

“Fuck… yeah… I’m… breedable,” Harry moaned, his breath raspy while the Beast advanced. The cockhead was in; it only had to advance. But with each progress was one of those nodules that stretched his ass wider. Their round forms helped, but their sheer size was… Enough to force on the hole and make Harry gasp.

His mouth remained open while his ass was.. Stretched.

And stretched again with each new nodule. Each time, with the widening dick, their insertion became more arduous. But so was the reward and relief when they slipped, and another nodule rubbed against Harry’s G spot.

He sighed, closed his eyes… His breath was thin, his resistance reduced to nothing. The Beast took him, and with it, his… Body reacted. His blood pumped faster in his limbs and cock; his manhood throbbed with needs and anticipation. And as he turned to see the Beast… He ignored the threatening teeth and dangerous horns, the brutal eyes. He reached for that head despite the growl from the Deathclaw’s throat. He cupped that jaw and stroked it with weak thumbs, guiding that head down.

“Ke-Keep going, big one,” moaned Harry.

He moaned some more when he pressed his lips against the Beast’s mouth and guided it to kiss him. To fill that mouth with that wide and greedy tongue as it scoured everything: gum, palate, teeth, uvula, and throat. The Deathclaw explored Harry’s mouth as much as it explored his depths and progressed.

Progress which was visible as the Raider’s guts started to distend and reshape to adapt from the Deathclaw’s dick, forming a bulge where the Beast was… One that grew as more inches were slipped inside… And the more was that donut of an asshole stretched.

“Hrmphh… Muck!” he said through a breath, his toes curling while the Beast was almost entirely inside him. His belly didn’t hurt, not exactly. But it was so full, and even breathing was hard. Even the idea of… Stroking it and feeling how far the Beast had come was beyond Harry. Instead, his fingers gripped that head harder, forcing the Deathclaw to stay by him, kiss him, and not move… And there was no movement.

For a moment that felt like hours, they remained stuck.

Harry gulped down the saliva the Deathclaw offered. The Deathclaw’s fingers tightened their grip over his ankles. Harry’s asshole clenched, weakly, around the Beast’s massive cock. The Beast’s legs locked in position.

They remained so… For how long? Until… The Deathclaw peeled back. Not that cock or legs, but that head and tongue. Pull. Pulled away, leaving Harry gasping for air and quivering as those red eyes were back on him… Watching his bulging belly, his spurting cock, and tensing legs.

“Breeding you?” asked the Beast.

“Breed… Harry, me,” answered the Raider as his head dropped on the mattress and his fingers went back on his ass. He looked at the neon lights and focused on them as the last inches were forced inside him. All but one nodule had gone inside, and that one was the largest, the biggest, and the most outrageous. And… Like the other, with a slow slurping noise from his clenching sphincter, it slipped inside and nudged his prostate.

It sent him skyrocketing through a short-lived orgasm, but big enough for him to see stars.

And not react when the Beast’s hips rocked back and forth. Not by pulling out, as too many spikes were fully inserted in Harry, stopping the Deathclaw from pulling back. But directly by using Harry like a sleeve, to rub himself. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Below the Raider, the bed creaked from the applied strength. One that directly moved Harry as much as it pressed within him: his guts received it, his prostate received it, his cheeks received it. And before long, the loud smacks of the Deathclaw’s testicles filled the room and Harry’s mind.

Under the Deathclaw’s lovemaking, Harry was… There. Nothing more was needed of him; nothing was expected as he glanced at the Neon while filled by a monstrous Beast that would have struck fear in the heart of the most dastardly Raider. He closed his eyes, trying to dull that part of him who wanted him to flee… To avoid that moment, to flee that Beast.

Because it would mean… Not to enjoy.

Not to appreciate that massive dick wrecking his guts and massaging his prostate, shifting and nudging that lovely G spot that sent him through the stars and forth. Even now, he felt another orgasm churn and take form within his nethers, growing in strength as he felt the Deathclaw’s movements hasten and deepen.

A mere glance at those red eyes confirmed the pleasure the Beast felt at that moment, the approaching orgasm. It would soon be over, soon… And yet, Harry didn’t feel like it should stop. Not now, not at that moment.

Not when he felt the Beast’s hastening breath over his skin, not when that tongue licked his neck and beard, not when the huffs and groans accelerated. He held on tighter, his fingers digging until they turned white from the tension and…

ROAAAAR!

The Deathclaw roared and screamed with that mouth wide open. The hands released his ankles, instead going from the mattress to plant the claws in there while Harry watched in awe and surprise. He blinked, too, unable to say a word as he watched drool drip from the Beast’s mouth and…

He gargled.

Something weird hit him in the guts. Hot, warm, dense. He looked down, watching where had been the stomach bulge from the Deathclaw’s massive cock within him. Instead, his skin was rounder… Smoother. No traces of the Deathclaw’s dick, only a round gut. He watched as he felt another weak but delicious orgasm hit him. He blinked, watching how… It was possible. Yet, didn’t dare to look away as the Beast kept roaring. However, the Deathclaw’s voice was lower and calmer, smoother, too. The orgasm had hit the Beast, square. But… It was slowly receding. More cum was poured, making Harry’s hairy belly distend until he looked pregnant, and then… It stopped.

No more cum, no more movement, no more roars. Only a weak sigh from the Beast as it dropped on Harry with the arms spread… For a moment, the Raider felt he would be crushed. Instead… no. He was only covered by the Deathclaw, unable to move a finger. Well… Even if he could move a finger, despite his exhaustion… He didn’t feel like it. Not as he was beneath a warm and musky blanket, his eyes half-closed and a smile half-spread over his face. He was… Fine. Somehow. Very fine.