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The Chimera - A Lewd Story by Forseti Fox

I became the personal sex slave of the terrifying chimera of legend.

It all started in my old college years, when I had developed a fleeting interest in urban exploration. At the time, I had no clue as to the existence of magic in the modern world, aside from the odd poltergeist in an old dormitory, or a drunken Bigfoot meandering about the forest next to campus. None of those were personal experiences, mind you; only off-hand stories from acquaintances that I barely paid any mind to.

I never bothered with any of the old college buildings when I explored old ruins, however. I took the time to properly investigate places instead of letting myself get coerced into spending the night in some old observatory as part of a hazing ritual. The abandoned places that interested me were far from anywhere that anyone actually lived. I took weekend-long trips instead of just waltzing on down to the first abandoned factory I came across. And I made sure to creep about in places far from any public road; I wasn’t about to risk stumbling across some cop’s regular patrol route. I was stricken by a fever for the wonder and beauty of places once inhabited by folks, but now left to the elements. Despite that fever, my fascination for old, abandoned places wouldn’t last longer than a few months.

And it wasn’t a lack of interest that forced me to change hobbies. It was the thing I found at an old weather station in a Provincial Park in Canada, miles away from the US border.

I had always been a bit of a punky hyena, however, so it should have been no surprise that I’d get into trespassing onto private property. I made a point to stick to each and every punk stereotype I could when I was a younger pup. I got really good at tagging places. I got really good at holding my own in a mosh pit. I pierced my pointy ears, only to shove safety pins in the holes. I even tried to dye the straw-colored tufts of fur on the top of my head lime green, but I ended up getting a cheap product, and the color started to fade within the month.

I was also a staunch skeptic for a long while, but that didn’t end up sticking.

However, despite all of my reservations and inclinations to stick to my aesthetic, I still ended up going to college. I try to stick with an undecided major as much as possible; as much as I rebelled in my youth, it was the one sticking point my folks made me commit to, and I couldn’t decline their wishes to see me get at least an Associate’s Degree in something. I did take a bit of an interest in writing, and considered being a travel writer for a moment.

Throughout the first few years, as friend groups shifted and independence from my parents was a forced reality instead of a desire I sought after, I mellowed out slightly. It wasn’t as though I regarded that part of my life with any degree of cringing, but there were certain rebellious habits I felt comfortable giving up in order to make life easier. I still rocked a few piercings and listened to punk bands,, but I switched my black, shiny jacket with something that would actually keep me warm in winter, and I left the spray paint at home whenever I went out exploring. I even managed to give up smoking cigarettes, which seemed like an impossible feat when I was in high school.

But the mellowness wouldn’t last for long. In the September of my sophomore year, just as I decided to begrudgingly switch to a degree in information technology, every single outlook I held on life, and every single way I regarded myself in general, would be changed forever.

Leaves crunched under-paw with each step, regardless of if I were traipsing along on a designated trail or the forest floor itself. My thick, black boots did very little to muffle the crunching. The moon was full and bright, which was important if I wanted to see where I was going without suspiciously waving a flashlight everywhere. I had pulled into a dirt parking lot hidden on a backroad in Nichols-Pierre Provincial Park in Ontario, just as soon as the sun set. Obviously, that’s not the park’s actual name. I don’t want anyone following in my footsteps.

A few of the urbex guys in the area found old historical records indicating the presence of a weather station that was abandoned all the way back in the nineteen-seventies. The complex apparently stood at the top of a hill that bordered on being a mountain. The building was a modest one-story structure, but apparently, there were a good half-dozen radar dishes that made for stellar photo opportunities. Even that wouldn’t be too out-of-the-ordinary for urban explorers, however. The real prize was something far more bizarre.

Legend had it that a weatherman all the way from Greece had an almost fanatical obsession with turning old storage containers into actual houses. The records even showed blueprints for a collection of six entire metal shipping containers being turned into some weird facsimile of an actual house. However these containers got sent all the way out to the Provincial Park, if they were even sent there at all, was anyone’s guess. But as it stood, the Nichols-Pierre Provincial Park consisted of thousands of square-kilometers of land, and the records failed to actually indicate any proper map. No one had found the strange house yet.

I was hoping to change that.

The records did include something that resembled a map, but absolutely no part of it was scaled correctly. The big, hulking illustration of a weather station took up a fifty-square-kilometer corner of the map. None of the structures were on any marked trail, either, and though it was assumed that the weather station could be reached by the labyrinthine network of unmarked dirt trails, no one was successful in testing that theory. I made sure to bring an actual tent and sleeping bag with me. I wasn’t going to assume that my journey would reach its destination in the course of a single night.

Midnight rolled around at some point, and I’d been hiking for around five hours. I wasn’t opposed to being up in the middle of the night, being more of a nocturnal animal myself, but five hours of walking in general is liable to make any animal tired. My paws weren’t screaming in agony, but they were auditioning for the position of a lead singer in an indie emo band. Part of my tactic involved marking where I’d been, if I ever came across what looked like an intersection in the trail. I didn’t want to tag any living trees with spray paint, so I instead opted to slap a strip of bright, reflective orange tape across the largest tree I could find at every intersection I’d visited. That way, I’d know I hadn’t retreaded any territory.

Fresh fallen leaves colored the air with their scent, and a chorus of insects accompanied the twilight wood. It could almost be considered idyllic. But the network of trails remained a maze, and I still accidentally found myself retracing my steps and stumbling across the same trees I’d marked with tape. Having lost my way in the darkness of the sheer wilderness was a very disorienting feeling, but some part of me almost turned tail as soon as I started to notice something even more jarring. A bitter, musky scent began to cross my sensitive hyena palette on some of the trees I’d previously marked with tape. It almost had a smell of urine, but with a much richer, earthier aroma than any canine or hyaenidae was capable of. Any attempt I made to mark the trees was completely outclassed, and it was done with a scent I couldn’t quite place.

An uncanny feeling began to sink in as soon as I realized that only trees I’d come across carried the scent.

I certainly started to pick up my pace, though I didn’t make a direct beeline towards where I thought I’d parked. I simply wanted to cover ground quicker. Though each moment wherein I stumbled across a marked tree caused me to doubt my ability to even navigate back to my car until sunrise. Every once in a while, I thought I’d heard something big and clumsy barreling through the foliage or treading heavily upon piles of leaves, though it could have been my imagination all the same. My quickened breath and even quicker steps were anything but quiet, so I couldn’t listen with absolute precision anyway. Shadows darted out of the corner of my eye, or perhaps illusions spurned by my growing apprehension. I continued to wander the Provincial Park, but couldn’t once shake the feeling that I was being stalked.

Then, I stumbled across a tree that smelled strongly of fire and ash. It had been scorched with flame that very evening.

And the scorch marks covered the piece of tape that I stuck to the trunk.

No longer did I possess any rebellious courage or rebellious love for the night. I turned tail right at that moment and made a dead sprint. I wasn’t running towards anywhere in particular. I was too frightened to even try and fathom where my parked car could have lied, but I needed to get out of there. Too many strange sights and scents couldn’t be explained, and I wasn’t certain I wanted any explanation.

But I stopped dead in my tracks as soon as I began to make out several colossal shapes, only barely visible above the dimly lit treeline. Behind a sampling of pine trees, I could make out several large radar dishes. It had only just dawned on me that I’d been running uphill. I had found the weather station.

And every part of me longed to get out of there.

An entire branch snapped behind me. Heavy steps crunched leaves. Whatever pursued me was close enough to banish any idea that I was imagining things. And it made no efforts to hide its presence from me.

Then, the stalker began to speak. Or more accurately, the stalkers began to speak.

“What have you got planned, brother?” asked a deep, gravelly voice with bass tones heavy enough to physically make me shudder.

Another voice, more timid and tenor in its tone, stumbled out of a nervous mouth. “We’re not going to eat this one like we did the others, right?” I was still too paralyzed with fear to face my pursuers.

The first voice spoke again. “Well, he did somehow manage to find our lair. We can’t have that.” I could feel hot breath wash over the back of my neck. Whoever this was, his massive head was close enough to kiss the crook of my neck, though it seemed more likely that he’d bite. “Even though we tried so hard to scare him off-”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” I stammered, completely unable to muster forth any bravado. “I tried to get back to my-”

“Shh, shh. Quite now.”

A massive feline paw sat on my shoulder. Though “sat” is too casual a word, for the beast behind me was certainly quadrupedal, and larger than any bear living in the wilderness. He nearly forced me to my knees with a casual clap on the shoulder. “Just chalk it up to bad luck-”

“Wait a moment,” creaked another voice, eerie and almost ageless, though still masculine and forceful enough to cause another shudder to creep across my body. I heard the sound of another massive beast take a deep breath. “I like thisss one’sss ssscent.”

The timid voice interjected once more. “I don’t like where you’re going with this, either, brother-”

The third voice interrupted. “Then try to ssstop me, brother. If you can wressstle control of thisss body.”

I couldn’t parse what exactly the third voice meant by that, but I still couldn’t bring myself to turn and face the first creature, who still held his paw dominantly on my shoulder. The first voice began to trade speech for erupting laughter, but then decided to speak as his rumbling eruption subsided. “Hmm, it has been a while since I’ve had a good fuck, brother. And this little twig of a hyena hasn’t even bothered to run away yet. I like a well-behaved sort.”

“Whatever you say,” whined the second voice. “Not like I can control anything when you two agree on something. Better than eating him, though, I suppose-”

“He isn’t off the menu just yet, brother,” teased the first voice. “It’s just order of operations-”

I couldn’t stand the torment any longer. Even despite the compliments towards my supposed submissiveness, I couldn’t keep myself from crawling away from the heavy paw and humiliating myself by falling flat on my face in the process. My coat and jeans were covered in muddy dirt, but it hardly mattered. I crawled and strained to get away as heavy pawsteps casually gave chase to my awkward escape. Two of the voices were even laughing.

And then, I finally twisted around to see what exactly was giving chase.

It wasn’t three creatures, but instead just one. And though I couldn’t see well enough to make out any particular details, I noticed that this creature had three heads.

My tongue froze. My muzzle hung open. I’d never seen anything remotely similar to this infernal monster behind me. I tried, through sheer force of will, to beg and plead, but nothing intelligible would come out.

The second, middle head spoke with his nervous demeanor. “See, you broke the poor thing!”

“Like you made any difference,” contested the head on the left; the first voice.

But the third voice addressed me directly. “You will make a good breeding bitch, yesss, I sssee it.” I swore I could almost see a snake tongue flicker out of the smooth, unfurred head on the right.

“I guess that means no dinner,” complained the left head. “But still, brother, I like the way you think.”

“What will it be, poor creature? Fucking, or feasssting?” asked the head on the right.

But all I could respond with was. “Wh-what are you?”

The third head then spat fire into a pile of leaves. The dry kindling caught immediately, and a roaring flame illuminated what stood before me. He made quick work of lighting two more fires, and I beheld the creature in full.

The left head was that of a goat. The middle head was that of a lion. And the third head was that of a green-scaled snake, which almost looked draconic in nature. The being’s body was the tan-furred torso of a lion, and its forepaws were also feline in nature, though the hindpaws were replaced by shiny, black cloven hooves, and the tail of the creature was long, thick, and bedecked in the same green scales of the creature’s third head. A wicked set of wings sprung from its leonine back.

I was no expert on Greek literature, but I’d seen enough art to recognize a Chimera when I saw one.

My tongue froze. No words to properly endear myself to the creature came to mind. I couldn’t even parse whether I should call the chimera a “they” or an “it.” The doubt didn’t come from them not comprehending speech. It came from the fact that three heads had to share one body, and my mind couldn’t remotely parse what something like that could feel like.

“Anssswer the question. Fucking, or feasssting?”

My distraction was obvious, but I shook my head hard in the hopes of breaking free from it. “What do you mean by-”

“Breeding your asss, hyena. Anssswer the quessstion. I won’t asssk again.”

I gulped, unintentionally phrasing my stark answer as a middling question. “Fucking?”

The chimera paced forward until it stood over my prone body. The snake head spoke once more. “You ssseem unsssure.”

I flung my furry arms back, making myself seem as submissive as possible, and letting the Grecian creature loom above me with free agency. “No, no, please! Whatever you want, don’t eat me!”

The Chimera proceeded to press his musky ass directly onto my muzzle.

He, or more appropriately “they,” made a heel turn with such efficiency that it was very clear which head was in charge of the creature's motor controls. Within seconds of making a pathetic appeal, I found myself at least twenty centimeters deep inside of a feral creature’s musky ass. Even without lube, the beast’s orifice was prepared to use my muzzle as a dildo. The eager donut winked casually.

Strangely enough, the tenor-pitched lion head in the middle started to whine. “Wait, wait! Oh, goodness-”

“Quiet,” commanded the goat head.

“But it’s just- Oh, oh gosh!” The chimera began to sink the entire weight of its caprine backend onto my face. “Eeh! Feeling someone up our rear end is always quite strange!”

I was hardly paying attention to the conversation. The chimera made very clear the fact that it’d never seen a proper shower. A swirl of sweat and ass promptly imprinted itself on my nose with a musky, earthy scent that made quick work to climb its way towards the back of my throat. I had no doubt in my mind that I’d be tasting this creature’s ass all week, even without having opened my mouth to use my hyena tongue on him. Their hole squeezed on my face with the muscular strength of a vice grip. It didn’t take long for the monster to “take me to the hilt,” so to speak, as the outer rim of their donut immediately covered my eyes and blocked out any of the ambient firelight. His smelly, pungent, mammalian aroma overrode all of my senses, but I couldn’t properly open my muzzle to complain, considering how well-trained and muscular the monster’s hole was.

But despite my inability to complain, I could easily hear the lion head of the chimera whine and cry out as the monster rode my face. “It feels so weird-”

“Quiet, brother!” shouted the goat head. “And you, hyena boy. I better start feeling tongue.”

“Yesss,” hissed the snake head. “You mussst get a proper tassste.”

The chimera started grinding faster as his massive lion paws pressed into my ankles, spreading my legs and holding me in place. I couldn’t escape from the strong monster’s grip. I couldn’t form words. I couldn’t even catch a breath. I could only smell sweaty monster ass and accept my fate as a living dildo.

I couldn’t possibly have noticed it at the time, considering how much of my fragile mind was in a whirl of stench and surrealness. But a noticeable tent began to pop up in my jeans.

The Grecian legend then pressed even more of his weight onto my face. I was under the impression that each hump was the full culmination of the monster’s strength, but I was woefully wrong. There was no hope whatsoever for me to breathe. But I could still hear the goat head command: “Tongue!”

Mustering as much of my willpower as possible, I wriggled the tip of my tongue tentatively deeper into the monster’s musky hole. Even if I wanted to properly rim the creature, the strength of their inner muscles made it tricky for me to properly open my jaw. Even that little Herculean effort brought about an immediate sore in the muscles of my face. But the chimera let more of itself sink onto my muzzle, and my tongue was able to taste even deeper. Sweat, musk, and pheromones, all raunchier than an Olympic athlete’s jockstrap after an entire season of training, danced on the taste buds of my tongue in a mad, degenerate waltz. What I thought was the most overpowering scent I’d ever been forced to inhale was only an appetizer when compared to the taste of the monster’s sweaty hole. It was bitter, earthy, and tasted slightly of pre-cum mixed with literally fermented sweat. They used my tongue carelessly as though it were an old sweat rag, and as soon as they felt the wet appendage risk probing deeper into the monster’s hole, the chimera forced even more of its hole onto my face with the intention of driving me deeper. I felt as though I’d been permanently marked with scent. Nothing resembling the aroma of a hyena would ever be recognizable on my hide again. Even if I were to make out with another man, a year down the line, the unfortunate lover would still be able to taste chimera ass on my tongue.

The creature had also started to become erect. On one paw, the three heads seemed to share a single cock, but on the other paw, it was long, thick, and easily the size of my arm. I could probably smell the rich scent of pre-cum that dripped all over my shirt if the chimera’s ass weren’t my entire world at that moment.

I hadn’t caught a proper breath in well over a minute. My brain was telling me that I hadn’t caught a breath in over a year. I whined and wriggled, which of course caused the chimera to hump my face harder; he wasn’t going to hear any cry smothered in so much ass. But then, I began to feel consciousness slip. I’d fallen into the tricky high that accompanies oxygen deprivation, and my tongue slipped back into my mouth. The goat once more commanded: “Tongue, bitch!” But the lion felt a bit more sympathetic. “I don’t think he can breathe.”

“Hnng, fine- Brother, we can get off his face now.”

“Fifteen more sssecondsss,” hissed the snake head.

I could feel the muscles relax, and some parts of the monster’s massive hindquarters twitch in a confusion of nerves that I can only imagine comes up when multiple brains try to control one body. But the snake head was stronger, and I fought with all of my body to cling to consciousness, lest the monster come up with any more depraved ideas regarding an unconscious hyena. I gasped for breath, widening my muzzle, and naturally inhaling more of the beast’s musky ass. The sudden widening got a high, tenor gasp out of the lion, and even mustered a guttural groan from the goat, but the snake was intent on letting the timer run. I grabbed uselessly at clumps of grass I couldn’t see, and started to hyperventilate in a mad panic that I couldn’t prevent.

And then, slowly and methodically, the chimera rose his hips upward. I could breathe once more, and swallowed gallons of oxygen the moment I could. The sudden intake of air caused me to grow even dizzier than the lack of air itself, but a little dizziness was nothing when compared to the burning of my lungs.

Not even five seconds later, the chimera sank back down onto my face. I had just exhaled, and mentally prepared myself for a minute to recover, but the snake was keen on fucking my face without a proper pause. I whined, gulped, and flailed wildly, prompting the creature to grip my ankles even harder to keep my in place. The lion began to whine once more, prompting the monster’s ass to clench around my muzzle again, and I heard him complain, “Brothers, this is making me dizzy-”

“Then pull us off of his face, brother! If you can!” snapped the goat. “Or stop complaining. You, sweatrag! I don’t feel your tongue.”

I hesitated for a moment, not sure if I could take an entire minute-and-a-half of rich monster musk and oxygen deprivation again. I gagged, but then found the courage to venture my tongue deeper. This earned a complete shudder of the monster’s hips, and another complaint from the feline head. “Wait, wait! Brothers, you know I lose bladder control whenever something hits the prostate- Gah, slow down!”

I started to flail once more, panicking about the cryptic warning coming from the middle head, but neither of the other brothers ceased in the quick, hard rhythm they developed while fucking my face. I felt a few dribbles of liquid, much hotter than the dribbling pre, start to drip from the monster’s cockhead, but then they started to unleash a torrent in full. Hot, acrid piss soaked the bottom of my shirt, as well as the entirety of my pants and shoes. I didn’t imagine that the bitter musk of the creature’s urine was able to penetrate the ass musk that enveloped my nose, but the fact that I could even pick up a trace of the beast’s piss scent through the fog of ass sweat was a testament to the strength of its smell. The Grecian monster kept humping, and consequently kept pissing. I felt the inner muscular clench and twitch, and even grip the base of my nuzzle the more I seemingly bumped my nose against its prostate. A ceaseless river of piss coursed over my body and soaked my own erect cock in tandem, and when my clothing had reached peak saturation, the streams of urine began to dribble down my sides and form a puddle from which I had no hope of crawling out of. All the while, the lion head moaned like a cat in heat. I half expected the creature to cum soon after.

But seconds passed, and before I knew it, I found myself fighting the urge to choke once more. Both the stream of piss and my oxygen deprivation lasted well over the span of a minute, and some fear in the back of my mind thought that the snake head would try to break their previous time record. At some point, the goat head shouted, “Shut up, brother! We get it! Piss makes you horny!” But the rest of the conversation faded as the dizzy feeling of being choked washed over my mind like a dense fog. Once again, I lost strength in my paws, and couldn’t even so much as grip the urine-soaked grass around me. I could only taste ass, and sink into slumber.

I then heard the snake head whisper. “One-hundred-one, one-hundred-two, one-hundred-three, one-hundred-four…” And finally, the chimera pulled its ass off of my muzzle and allowed me to breathe once more. The air around me reeked of bitter piss, but it was still ambrosia considering the lack of oxygen I’d suffered. I couldn’t even hear the words that the snake head spoke until he was halfway through his sentence. “...to do two minutesss.”

“What was that?” I mumbled dreamily.

“Two minutesss, whelp. Take a deep breath.”

I panicked, and thankfully gasped as a result, for the snake head wasn’t going to give me much time to prepare for this new challenge. A few seconds later, the creature’s ass became my world once more, and I could no longer inhale.

The foreplay lasted for what felt like an eternity, though the snake head, who kept track of the time well, told me later that they were only fucking my face for about forty-minutes. Over and over again, the beast enveloped my face and cut off my breathing, and just as I was on the verge of passing out, they released their grip once more, but only for about five seconds. It took three more tries before the creature properly held my muzzle in its musky prison for two complete minutes without me passing out in the process. Ass sweat and musk whirled around me like a magical haze, adding to the delirium that I found myself wrapped up in. It didn’t take long for my gasping, panting body to lose all strength, and the chimera no longer found it prudent to pin me to the earth, save by the strength of its ass alone. The middle head also managed to lose bladder control three more times; each time producing just as potent a stream as the first. While my face was permanently marked with the scent of beastly ass, the rest of my body was properly marked with the scent of the beast’s piss. The entire forest would be able to tell just to whom I belonged to, even if I was a mile away upwind.

At some point, while the beast proceeded to grind on my face, the goat head spoke up. “Can we fuck the poor thing, now? Our dick’s throbbing hard, but we’re not getting close. This butt stuff isn’t going to make us cum alone.”

“Quiet, brother!” hissed the snake head. “You know how long I’ve been waiting to cum from anal ssstimulation alone.”

“But it’s not working, brother! Let’s just fuck the poor thing. He’s probably too delirious to crawl away anyway. We can always try riding his face later.”

Meekly, the lion head tried to interject. “Or maybe we could all take a break-”

“Quiet!” screeched both the right and left heads.

I slowly scooched backwards, ever so gently, now that the beast was giving me more than five seconds to catch my breath. I was even able to sit up properly while the heads argued, rubbing my paws deeply into the cramp that had formed in my jaw.

But then, one of the hooved hindlegs of the chimera stepped firmly onto my chest, pinning me in place. The goat head, in tandem, barked a warning. “You’re not going anywhere, slut! Just keep still.” But then he proceeded to address the other heads. “I know you can feel it, our balls are aching-”

“I like the ache,” countered the snake head.

“I don’t! I want to cum!” screamed the goat head shamelessly. “And you know just as well as I do that we don’t have the opposable thumbs to jack ourselves off. Let’s just fuck this guy and then… I don’t know, keep him our prisoner. We haven’t had a fuck slave since Greece!”

The lion head proceeded to whimper. “Well, in that case, maybe we should ask him-”

“Quiet!” shouted the other two heads, once again. “Holy Hades, you’re such a fucking wimp.” continued the goat head.

“To follow back on your previousss point,” started the reptilian head, “I like edging for asss long asss I can.”

“That’s because you’re a kinky fucking pervert! Some of us want to use this body for normal sex! Back me up, brother.”

The lion head whimpered once more. “You guys keep bullying me-”

“Back me up, brother!” said the goat head once more, this time more sternly.

“Edging isn’t that kinky-”

“That’s it!” screamed the caprine cranium, this time taking control of the chimera’s body. He turned around, so that all three heads were looking down on me. I tried to crawl back once more, but the goat hoof traded places with a lion’s paw as the Grecian beast made a heel turn. “Get on all fours, bitch. We’re gonna fuck you now,” commanded the goat head.

I knew that disobeying the order would lead to a far worse fate than complying, so I gingerly slid my pants off and exposed my ass to the cold night air as well as the beast. I tried hard not to let my short, little hyena tail wag in excitement. “Y-yes, sir. I’m all yours.”

“Sir,” mused the goat head. “I like that.”

“He could call usss massster-”

“That’s too contrived for my taste. ‘Sir’ works just fine.”

The chimera then proceeded to hold both of my legs down with their muscular paws, holding me properly in place. The snake head spoke up once more. “He needsss preparation.”

“That’s the job of the middle head,” chirped the goat head.

“Aww, man!” whined the lion, realizing he’d need to perform a rimjob.

The other two heads seemed to command more mastery over their shared muscle control than the lion did, and slowly, the beast descended towards me ass. For a brief moment, I exchanged a sympathetic look with the lion head, who seemed to want to perform the rimjob as little as I wanted it performed on myself. But before long, his tiny nose poked at my taint. “I don’t like doing this-” whined the cat, before he was promptly interrupted by the goat.

“Well, I don’t like having to fuck a dry hole!”

One could hardly call me dry. I was still soaked in piss.

“Fine! Fine! You two really need to stop ganging up on me.”

Slowly, the rough cat’s tongue teased my pucker before truly diving into the hole itself. Though the lion head tried a gentler approach, his coarse tongue scratched at the exposed bits of my butt that weren’t properly covered in fur. He lapped at my delicate taint a few times before uttering another complaint. “Brothers, there’s too much piss-”

There didn’t seem to be many ways in which a chimera could punish a single head without hurting the others, but that didn’t stop the goat head from shoving one of the beast’s thighs into its own balls. The goat head grunted intensely, while the snake head almost seemed to utter a pleasurable moan. But the lion head let out a full-on whine as pain rocked through the entirety of the beast’s nervous system. “Fine, fine! I’ll keep licking! Don’t do that again!” A residual, pained moan colored his complaint once the exclamation point of his sentence arrived.

And so, the feline head dove his feline tongue into my tailhole more directly. The rough, scratching nature of the wet appendage brought about sensations far more intense than mere tickling, but the chimera held my legs down hard enough to prevent me from squirming away. The cat dove deeper inside, seemingly building up a horny momentum despite his earlier protests. He made sure to drool as much as possible, but despite the fact that his saliva was doing a decent enough job of lubricating me, the constant irritation of the lion’s rough tongue was a sensation I couldn’t get myself used to. It almost had a texture akin to sandpaper, though only slightly less coarse. I wasn’t about to claim that I was approaching this situation with any bravado, but no one would have ever mistaken me for a hardcore punk if they could hear how high pitched my needy whines were.

But the lion head didn’t lick for long. The rest of the monster’s heads finally let the middle head pull away as the entire creature moved forward to line its cock up with my hole before it stopped being slick. Even though the massive weight of the monster’s paws was lifted from my ankles, I knew deep down any attempt to inch away would be a futile one. I remained diligently in place, in the wet, piss-soaked soil.

The cat complained once more about the taste of his own urine, but I was barely paying attention. Even though the tip of the beast’s member was thin and tapered, a quick glance told me that the fucking I was about to endure wouldn’t be easy. I wasn’t too familiar with caprine anatomy, but I doubted most goats had a cock that widened to the width of my entire arm after it got past the foot-long point. It would have been possible to take it to that point. The two-and-a-half foot point, right at the base, was another question entirely.

My mind was awash in horrified thought, and I failed to notice any aspect of my surroundings, save for what I could glean from the sensation of touch. But when the snake head spoke once more, I listened. “Are you ready to be bred, ssslut?”

“Wait, no- You’re too big-”

The goat head cut me off. “You say that like we’re gonna knock him up, brother.”

“It wasss a figure of ssspeech. I like the idea of impregnating my ssservantsss.”

The chimera shoved his spear of a cock into me while the goat head was mid-conversation.

“You’re a weird, kinky bastard, brother- Oh, we’re doing this! Oh, you’re tight as fuck, slut!”

“Not for long,” chimed the snake head ominously.

The meager amount of cat spit was a poor excuse for anal lubricant. The long, thin shaft only got about six inches deep upon the first jab. Though despite the fact that that particular thrust was merely an appetizer, and that the full course would send sensations throughout my body that I had no hopes of imagining, the first jab still caused me to scream. At first, I yelled a profanity or two: “Fuck, fuck!” But my ability to form proper sentences was absolutely eviscerated by the time the chimera forced more of itself inside of me.

The snake head remained silent, and the goat head grunted intimately as the entirety of the chimera started to grind his heavy cock into me. The lion head seemed to lean into a high-pitched, whiny moaning that rivaled mine, though I’d be hard pressed to call the noises I made a moan. I was openly weeping, feeling my ass get spread apart by something girthier than my own arm. The fur of my face was quickly matted with tears. While at first, my improperly lubricated ass tried to put up some resistance, the beast’s massive rod leaked enough precum within the first few thrusts to make up for the lack of slipperiness of my hole. And where the precum failed, the residual drops of urine filled in the gaps. I was skewered immediately. The long, thin part of the cock worked its way into my hole deep, and worked past the first corner easily enough to wedge itself. It only took five thrusts for the meaty, thicker part of the chimera’s cock to meet my hole. The tip already threatened to stretch out my second sphincter.

I laid down flat on my stomach as the hulking beast rocked its hips into me, pressing me deeper into the wet earth with each thrust. I screamed, writhed, and found no way in which to brace myself as more than a foot of monster cock ruined my hole. My nerves were on fire all throughout my body, and though I was sure that my own pathetic little cock was twitching in arousal, I could hardly pay attention to the ample amounts of prostate stimulation I was receiving when the inner stretchability of my hole was being tested well past what I thought the limits were. The lion head was growling now. The rumbling of it caused the beast’s member to vibrate as it kept on humping. But as the creature began to pick up the pace, fucking harder and reaching more intimate depths, the goat head shouted out a warning. “You better not fucking cum yet, brother!”

“I can’t help it, brother! His ass is like velvet!” moaned the lion head as an animal growl punctuated the end of the sentence.

“We’re not cumming until he’s taken us to the hilt! You hear that, hyena slut?”

“Fuck it, we’re hilting him now then!” screamed the lion head with a sudden dominant possessiveness. And with a proud, leonine roar, the creature thrust himself upwards into me, ignoring each and every resistance that my hole put up until the beast lifted me from the ground with its cock alone.

I’m certain that more than one mere liter of cum was emptied into my devastated hole, though any amount of fluid leakage was impossible to discern past the stretching sensation that the chimera’s rod brought. The entirety of the cock was now within me. Gravity worked in its favor as I slid down onto its wet, girthy dick. I howled in absolute pain. I was never going to feel another man’s cock after the beast pulled out. The base of its cock nearly had the width of a small watermelon. My belly started to look as though I’d swallowed a large watermelon.

Without a knot or a flare, the chimera’s cock leaked copious amounts of cum right back into the puddle of piss. There was no tightness left in my outer ring. The fluids leaked out without any difficulty, even with the wide mass of monster cock propping my tailhole open. But indeed, the monster had shot enough of its beast batter into the deeper depths of my colon that I was sure to keep a few liters inside of me for days to come.

The Grecian monster slowly lifted his hips and let me slide off of his private bits until I collapsed into a nearly-conscious mass of fur, crumpled haphazardly in the grass. My entire body ached, and my hole wouldn’t properly close anymore. I literally felt a cool breeze blow into me. In a fit of delirium, I let my own paw wander over to my gaped ass and found that I was able to fist myself without any issue. Every synapse fired in every corner of my body, though the fire within my tailhole burned brightest. At some point, I actually came without touching myself, but I didn’t feel the orgasm. I just noticed stray drops of cum dripping from my twitching shaft. The chimera laid down onto me once more, his massive furry body proving still to be a prison too strong to wriggle away from. Its leaky, massive cock continued to paint my back along with the beast’s own stomach.

I smelled like monster musk. I reeked of monster piss. I was bathed entirely in monster cum. I was properly marked and ruined. I wasn’t going to be able to walk for days, let alone try and escape from the monster’s dominion. And I knew that it was going to want to fuck again.

My breathing slowed, and despite the aches that rocked through my ass and legs, my eyes started to close themselves due to sheer exhaustion. “Oh, shit. He looks like he’s about to pass out, we seemed to have broken him, brothers,” mocked the goat head.

“A proper ssservant ssshould be broken,” teased the snake head.

“Eh, it doesn’t matter too much. He doesn’t need to be awake for round two,” continued the goat. “Though I don’t think he’s gonna stay awake for long once we stretch him out.” All three heads started to laugh. “You don’t have a boyfriend, do you, yeen?”

My answer barely contained any proper words. “N-no… Not…”

“That’s for the best. Anyone who wants to fuck you’s probably gonna get lost in that hole of yours.”

“I have no plansss of letting him go, brother.”

“Neither do I, brother. I’m only teasing. I just want to drive home the point that he’s ours now. He’s never gonna feel a cock ever again after us.” The chimera started humping my weak little body in mockery. “Isn’t that right, slut? You’re gonna be crawling back to us for the rest of your life if you want to feel something down there ever again. You’re gonna get addicted to our cock.”

“Brother, I’m going to get turned on again if you keep talking like that,” complained the lion head. And indeed, the giant spear of monster cock started to twitch, not once having ever lost its complete erection.

“Yeah, that’s the point, brother. We’ve got cum in our balls still. I want to fix that.”

The chimera didn’t need to lock me up or chain me to a wall to coerce me to stay. I simply stayed in the abandoned weather station of my own free will. Of course, any attempt to run away would be met with failure. The beast could outrun me, even without having turned my legs into jelly first. But fear was not the only factor prompting me to remain as the monster’s captured damsel. Even despite the pain, despite my body getting pissed on and ruined, I’d never felt more aroused in my entire life. When the fear waned, and the chimera put its fourth load into my womb, I’d already fallen in love. I didn’t need to rub my paw on my cock once to bring myself to orgasm just as much. No one or no thing had ever brought me to ejaculate just from anal stimulation before, and the goat head was entirely correct. I was addicted.

No one found the abandoned weather station for months. Urban explorers started to declare the site to be an urban legend. And the missing hyena from America also fell into the folds of the myth, when no one was able to find me. It was just another footnote in the wider story of weird and strange things going on in Nichols-Pierre Provincial Park. I didn’t mind. I was happy to live off of a diet of monster cum and piss, and live my life as a living, breathing fleshlight for a beast with a cock larger than any anthropomorphic animal I’d ever met. The strange, derelict storage containers that made up the beast’s lair made up the coziest home I’d ever lived in. I was brainwashed by sex, and had no desire to stop living as a sexual slave for a beast with no real concern for my safety. The chimera’s lair was populated by a willing victim, and this time, I had my fingers crossed that no Bellerophon would appear to rescue the damsel.