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The bird’s beak could not scrunch up with the displeasure that a snout could more easily accommodate; the tone of his voice communicated how he felt just fine, however.

“What is that smell?”

Bramble, whose olfactory prowess was considerably worse despite being a pig and not a peacock, sniffed a few times, and then shrugged. She looked around as she asked:

“I dunno Boss. What’s it like?”

“Greasy,” Gerrark said without hesitation, clearly prepared to say it from the moment he complained, “Greasy and…” Here he was very glad he was not a mammal, immune to their shared affliction of broadcasting embarrassment on their faces. Unfortunately for him, his tone of voice was quite good at communicating many different things.

“...Manly. Musky?”

He sniffed again. There was something else, but he couldn’t tell what. He could barely smell it, and-ah! Of course, smoke. Hard to differentiate this new source since the bird was practically wreathed in a fog at all times, but this new wave of odors did indeed have smoke amongst its flavors. A very potent one, far stinkier than the blunts he tended to enjoy.

“Anyway,” Gerrark said as he reached towards the ashtray, grabbing his own half-finished stogie and lighting it back up, “You smell something, right? Did you do something?” The tip of his cigar flared red, and a second later a huge cloud exited through the holes in his beak, crashing upon the barely-concealed pig tits in front of him. Bramble’s ears reddened, but she dutifully counted upon her fingers as she narrated her past five minutes.

“I set up the silverware, checked my phone, washed my hands, uhh… just kind of sat around for a bit, until you asked me to light a candle.”

“One from the closet, right?”

“Oh…” It took a very long time for the next words to exit her mouth, because she could already tell from the look on his face that he was not going to like what she was about to say.

“I thought you said cabinet.”

The bird started an eyeroll and caught himself, but the pig saw enough of it to shrink slightly with shame--not enough to be as small as her beloved little bird of course, but she hunched, at least a little.

“So you unlocked the cabinet in the bedroom?”

“Well yeah. I’ve got a key.”

The bird aborted the next eyeroll before it even had a chance to start. Dreadfully annoyed, but with no worthy targets to turn his frustration towards, he just muttered a “Fair ‘nough,” before flittering towards the dining room.

And there it was: black as pitch and thick as a brick, a cylindrical candle that did not properly fit on the candle stand Gerrark had set-up earlier, so Bramble simply placed the candle on top of it and then positioned a small plate beneath it all to catch any spillage, of which there was already a few dense globs. This was the source of those repugnant odors, which were sliding off the wick in a stream of smoke as sensual as a serpent before dissipating into an accumulated haze throughout the room. The peacock turned back toward his big pig with a smokey sigh, Bramble quite flush now.

“It’s no big deal, don’t worry about it babe.”

“This is, uhh…” Bramble gulped and looked around as she tried to recall, though the smells, which she could not help but be fully aware of now that she was so close to the source, were distractingly pungent, “That’s a summoning candle. Yeah. Right?”

“If you knew it was one of those, then why’d you use it?” Gerrark snorted, lightly grabbing at her neck at the start of the sentence and finishing it off with a few good slaps to her cheek by the end.

“Sorry Boss.”

“I already said it ain’t no big deal,” the bird said with a wave of his wing and another flare of his cigar, “I’ll just have to make whoever it summons leave, done this a million times.”

“You don’t know who it’s going to summon?”

“I haven’t had the chance to do the proper research,” Gerrark said as he looked back at her, a dangerous flash in his eye, “I didn’t think I needed to, yet.”

“Aheh… I can just put the candle out, if it helps…” She was already moving towards the table, but she froze as soon as the peacock squawked--usually so calm and collected, his frantic chirp made the reality of their situation finally start to set in for her.

“Don’t touch it!” he shouted, pointing directly at her. He took a deep breath, and his voice returned to its normal hiss as he said, “Just stay away from it. I’ll handle this. If I had to guess, it should-”

A thunderous knock came without warning upon the front door, making pigs fly and birds ruffle. The smells were very, very strong now, almost choking; Gerrark could barely taste his own cigar anymore. The bird gave himself a quick preening, looking over at his woman as he did.

“That’s the creature, whatever it is. It probably won’t do anything until I open the door, so just stay here until-”

“Until what?”

Bramble and the Boss both whipped around toward the source of the voice, which was standing in the doorway that led to the kitchen. A horrible laugh filled the air alongside the myriad stenches, just as pervasive and disgusting.

“What’s a little bird bitch like you gonna do to me, huh?”

What was snarling in their direction was a man--a monster of a rodent of a rat of a man--a term used with every derogatory inflection imaginable. He dwarfed even Bramble, a great big bitch of a pig, his naked body covered from head to toe in coarse brown fur that hid no single axis of his many gravid curves. Every breath was animal, steamy. Visible. His many stretch marks, and moles, and pits of far darker and far smellier hair located in every dank crevasse, were plain. His huge, naked nuts sagged past his fat cock, which was twitching to life. There was nothing about this monstrous vermin that was subtle, from the goosebump-inducing lip licking to the constant belly hefts to his dreadful voice, which made their skin crawl as much as it made their hips flex.

“Hole like you shouldn’t be playin’ with something like this,” he grunted, the tip of his absurdly long, and thick, tail snatching the cigar right out of Gerrark’s beak. In a flash it was in the rat’s mouth, already thicker and longer and stinkier than the Boss’s blunt had ever been. A disgusting cloud of smoke blasted from his nose and hit the two lovers like a tidal wave, leaving the pair coughing. Bramble took a bit longer to get over it, which gave her a lot more time to appreciate how warm that fog was. How good the rat looked smoking that cigar, too.

“If you need something to smoke, hole,” said the rat, as he sauntered towards the bird and pig, “I got somethin’ perfect for a big mouth bitch like you.” He stopped next to their dining room table and pulled out a chair, sitting down with a creak from the seat and a thud of his now hard dick. Thick, bouncing up and down, an actually audible plap whenever the bottom hit his balls, which were pancaked out across the seat of their chair. Smelly fucking crotch, impossible to ignore even several feet away. Bramble had never seen balls so big. A cock so thick, either. She yelped and shook herself when the little bird beside her started to laugh, his chirps filling the room as effectively as all the smoke. Almost.

“Jeez, make it more obvious why don’t you,” the peacock chuckled, happy to indulge in that much desired third eyeroll, “Babe, ignore this prick. It’s some sort of demon that feeds on attention. If you don’t touch it, it can’t touch you, and if we ignore it for long enough it’ll just disappear.”

“That’s ‘he,’ ya dumb bitch. I dare you to look at this dick and call me somethin’ different.” The rat took a relaxed position against the table, grabbing the base of his chode and wiggling the dangerous thing to and fro. He also ashed his horrid cigar right on their table, looking quite proud of himself as he did so. Gerrark didn’t see any of this, because he had already closed his eyes and crossed his arms.

“Yes yes, very good bait,” the peacock sighed, “Just close your eyes and ignore him, and this’ll be over in no time Bramble.”

“Yeah,” Bramble muttered, though not to her bird. They both felt it, as soon as they saw him--an animal attraction so powerful it threatened higher consciousness the moment it manifested. The bird was able to ignore it, at least for the most part. Sure, he loved a good cock, some fine balls, and a man who knew he could satisfy a bird as choosy and (rightfully) arrogant as the Boss… But he was a bird who thought with his dick just as much as his ass, and his inherent pride kept him quite easily focused on the former. Bramble, however, was a woman, and therefore didn’t stand a chance. If she had half the mind to feel shame, she would try and suggest it was the rat’s sitting down so prominently that did her in, or the commanding tone that left his lurid lips and flossed through her ears. But frankly, from the moment she saw his dick, watched it bounce as he walked toward them, she was transfixed. The testosterone that peeled off of the beast flooded her nostrils, the pheromones initiating a hormone cascade that made dark spots appear upon her shirt, and the space between her hips ache. Her own dick was hard, but completely forgotten. When the rat called Gerrark a “hole,” the word resonated with the pig in a way that briefly felt religious; if the peacock hadn’t started laughing she might have sighed in ecstasy. As a result, she heard not a single word of his explanation on how to dispel the demon, and instead heard something else entirely: a voice, so strangely similar to the rat’s, but not really, more liquid, vibrating through her body as she stared at his dick.

“Listen to your body,” hissed the voice, as his dick throbbed menacingly at her.

“Yeah,” Bramble muttered, with timing so perfect the bird was completely convinced that she was speaking to him. Her body felt empty. It ached for something, anything to fill it-no, not just anything. A dick, a man, that’s what she needed. That’s what her body was screaming for as her chest sagged and her lips started to plumpen. They bounced as she mouthed her mantra in time with the cock, “Listen to your body.” Her feet took her forward without consciously ordering them too, but that was for the best. It was natural for her to be pulled by the gravity of such a cock. For a woman, for a hole.

She was suddenly right in front of the rat, though he didn’t move--he waited for her to do so, as the peacock had been right--he couldn’t touch first. Good thing for him then that the musk-drunk pig was all too eager to. As soon as she registered that his cock was right there, that that turgid, heavy thing was within arms reach, her knees gave out from under her. Her hands hefted his balls, and the rat hissed out a cloud of triumph across her head, which he was gripping before it dissipated. Once first contact was made, there was no going back. His grip got tight, and he forced her head down until she was choking.

“Mmmmmmff…” she moaned, a smile pulling at her snout, or as much as it could when it was filled with enough rodent dick to make her lightheaded. The peacock did not hear even one note of her pleasure, because the rat was moaning himself, and loudly, as soon as her lips touched the fat pad at the base of his dick.

“Ohhh fuck, you’re gonna make good holes,” the rat grunted, the sound of slickness, moistness following every syllable, Bramble’s lips stuck tight to the edges of his cock--Gerrark thought it was just the rat using his precum to put on a show that he and his girl were successfully ignoring.

“You wish,” the bird huffed, starting to get impatient, “Can you just take a hint and leave already?”

The rat did no such thing, continuing to fuck his wife’s snout instead. While he did, he blew big clouds of smoke in her face, and yanked her ears a little; squeezed her head in his thighs until joints started to creak; whatever he damn well pleased to her, because she was already long gone. Black and white spirals dominated her vision, the smile on her snout was eternal and stupid, no words from the peacock’s beak could penetrate the haze of sleaze that smothered her head. All she heard was that dick, her body--that disturbing laugh from the rat, a backdrop to it all, along with the squelching sounds of sucking dick rattling her brain. The monster’s massive nuts kept slapping her chin, and his tail had already snaked its way between her thighs.

In no time, the wretched vermin’s thighs began to flex, the muscles in his massive ass tightening as his balls churned with cum. He could cum plenty, cum hard, and cum often, as this bitch was about to learn. His big hand took complete control of her head, holding it steady as he lazily humped her throat, his other hand pulling the cigar from his mouth so a flood of smoke could issue forth. Some part of Bramble knew something was coming, something horrible and life-changing, but her body buzzed so much that that part of her was completely drowned out. She needed this cock, this rat’s, this man’s cum. She was going to get it. She would make sure of it, but he would definitely make sure. Drool mixed with precum dripped down her chin in a steady stream, and her snout was repeatedly smeared against his damp, wiry crotch fur.

“Goddamn you’re stubborn,” Gerrark said pretty much only to himself, as both the rat and the pig were paying him no mind whatsoever, “Can you get going already?”

“Ffffuck,” the rat hissed, “yesssss…” Though not at the bird, obviously--he was a bit busy blasting several thick loads down Bramble’s throat. Every flex of his cock made her eyelids shoot up for a second to reveal more of her hypnotized gaze, and his nuts had so much to pour into her… her chin was soaked, it was leaking out her nose. She’d be coughing, but her gag reflex had turned off entirely. She was listening to her body, and her body was listening to the rat--holes didn’t need pointless shit like that. He kept blasting down her throat until not only her chin was sopping wet, but her chest as well. Covered and filled with liters of thick rat spunk. Responding to the way it spoke to her body, changing. Brain following suit.

“Finally,” the bird said, completely oblivious with his eyelids still quite shut, “Because my wife and I have dinner to eat.”

“Oh, hole like her’s only hungry for dick, now,” the rat said with pride, smacking her head, no reaction besides another dutiful suck, “There’s more than enough of me for both of ya, though.” A loud slurping sound followed.

Gerrark, who had kept his eyes so carefully closed up until that point, could no longer deny his curiosity, and let a single eye open to survey. It took less than a second after that for his screeching to fill the room.

“Bramble!” he squawked as he quite literally flew at her--as soon as his talons connected, he yanked her off the rat’s dick with a sickeningly loud squelch, “You fucking fool!” He threw her from the rat as hard as he could, the pig hitting the floor with a loud thud. She blinked and shook herself, the swirls leaving her eyes as she rubbed them.

“...Wha?”

“Alright, fine,” Gerrark growled, reaching into a pocket deep within his robe, “I didn’t want to waste something so expensive, but I don’t fucking have time for this.” For the first time since his arrival, the rat’s smirk wavered when he saw what the flustered bird yanked out--incredibly fragile and difficult to use, but always effective--a banishing charm. Just the kind of thing to remove even the most stubborn demons, like himself.

But it didn’t waver for long, for the bird was already far too late. The woman he thought he had just wrenched from the rat’s clutches was back in them the second their eyes met, his commanding gaze swirling hers in an instant. She listened to her body. She listened to men. This was a man--she listened to him, not that bird. He was a hole, like her. She needed the rat’s cock. His stink. His smoke. His firm grip. Robotically she climbed to her feet, taking her place behind the furious avian. The rat smirked, and gave her a nod.

“Conspectum meummmfmr!”

The bird’s incantation became muffled under a pound of pig tongue, his astonished gaze darting back and forth as he tried to make sense of his wife’s behavior. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep her off--for the bitch was just too big, far stronger than her little peacock prince--all he could do was pull his beak away for long enough to gasp “Stop!” or “Bram-!” before she grabbed his head and dove back in. He pushed, he slapped, he scratched, but nothing kept her tongue out of her mouth, or her brutish hand from trailing down the front of his robe. She clumsily grabbed at his long cock, which was already jumping to life, despite his protestations.

“Bramble, no!” the bird shouted after a particularly desperate headbutt, which only managed to daze her for a second, “You listen to mmmffr!” More tongue filling his beak to bursting, his vision starting to tunnel from lack of air. His dick throbbed angrily in Bramble’s tight grip, shameful drips of pre making his dickhead shine in her hand. Once he had all but blacked out, the pig finally pulled her tongue from his beak, slurping loudly as she did.

“I listen to men, Gerry,” the pig said with a vacant smile, staring at him with eyes that would not stop swirling. Pulling in. Inescapable. Her grip got so tight he yelped in pain.

“You’re not a man. You’re a hole, like me.”

“N-no!” the bird yelped, his squawks a maelstrom of emotion. Fear, anger, shame and much more, but of course, arousal as an undercurrent to it all. His cock leaked while he grabbed at the pig’s shoulders and shook her as hard as his oxygen-deprived arms could allow, and her head did indeed shake, but her smile and spirals never stopped for a second.

“I’m your husband, I’m the one that’ll-ah, ah-!”

While he protested, a big pig finger slid down his spine, under his tail feathers, and between his cheeks. Just as he started to crow about his manliness, said finger jammed itself right into his asshole--the effect was immediate. His long dick began to dribble the most pitiful orgasm imaginable between his legs, while his asshole quaked around her finger, his whole body shaking in her grasp. He whined and gasped for about a minute as his balls emptied themselves in a useless puddle onto the floor, everything meant for his wife’s womb spent upon the carpet. He wanted to fly away, wanted to disappear, the shame was unbearable, but he could do no such thing. For as soon as he was done cumming, Bramble’s hand was under his beak, gripping his chin. Finger still up his ass, she looked him in the eye and smiled.

“You’re a hole.”

“I’m… no…” the bird whimpered, barely pulling his gaze out of the whirlpool of his wife’s eyes, “I’m the Boss.” Her terrifying smile only got wider, her eyes swirling faster as she shook her head.

“The boss’s bitch you mean,” said the rat, grunting as he stood up from his seat. Gerrark tried to keep his eyes away, but Bramble forced him to gaze upon the rat’s fat body as he wobbled towards them. All that weight, all that power. All that cock, still hard as a rock and leaking even with Bramble’s front completely soaked in its cum. He shouldn’t look. He didn’t want to. He wanted to. He shouldn’t. He wasn’t horny, he wasn’t

“A hole,” said the rat, taking another long drag right in front of the bird. Smoke filtered out his nostrils, the peacock’s gaze transfixed on his disgusting snout. Drool on his lips. Confidence in his eyes. A man, he sure smelled like one. This bird with a nose so keen couldn’t deny it. A real man. Without even realizing it, Gerrark’s hands had moved forward, wrapping themselves around the rat’s hefty cock. Both hands were needed. The bird shivered as heat filled his body, starting from his palms.

“A ho-” Gerrark began, his words cut off this time by rodent tongue. One touch was all it took--there was no going back now. As soon as the peacock began to squeeze that fat cock the rat’s hands were moving, grabbing the svelte bird’s head and waist. Forcing their mouths together, forcing his slobber and smoke down Gerrark’s throat. He kept the cigar in his mouth while they kissed, his grime and grease instantly staining the bird’s feathers. Gerrark’s brain buzzed, as did his hips. His cock was completely forgotten, and shrinking rapidly. His chest got heavier. His hips thicker, wider. Voice rising in pitch as more and more of the Boss shrank away, added to the weight of the rat’s dong and balls and tail and ass. When the vermin finally pulled away, the now-eyeshadowed bird groaned and lifted her eyelids, which throbbed with oozing black and white hearts.

“A hole,” the rat said, no room for argument.

“A hole,” the bird responded, her eyelids sinking to half-mast. She was a hole. Saying it felt so natural, so right.

“Good girl,” the rat said with a snort, pulling her beak open. He spit into her mouth, and smirked.

“Swallow.”

She did, shivering all the way down to her tail feathers as she did. A constant drip slid from her pussy lips down her legs. The pig too, now that her body was also properly shifted by the smoke of a real man. No need for dicks on holes, just two women with vacant smiles and sopping pussies, staring at their owner. His smile turned sickening as he pulled them to either side, his grip far too tight. Both of them loved it.

“Who’s my girls, huh?”

“Me!”

“Me, sir!”

“Heheh, that’s right.”

He gripped one of the pig's tits and pulled hard, a low moan falling from her lips. One of his fingers prodded at the peacock’s asshole, eliciting a sharp chirp. Both women pressed in, kissing at whatever part of the creep they could reach. His dick and balls were so big now, so big that both sets of hands were needed for proper appreciation. He licked his chops as he watched them, his words sliding through their ears on clouds of tainted smoke.

“So, who’s hungry?”

“Me!”

“Me, me me!”

“Mm, no, you dumb holes,” he growled, licking up Bramble’s cheek and leaving a streak of saliva from her neck to her ear, “I am.”

Before long moaning filled the house, and it wouldn’t stop until the rat was satisfied, either. Luckily for his girls, he didn’t know the meaning of the word--luckily for him, he had plenty to cram in their mouths, should he need some peace and quiet. Perfect holes for the perfect man.