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A growing Liaison

Xeno’s clinic has been open for a while now, without success. However, Lycaon’s arrival might change everything in his business and his life.

With a lick, Xeno went for another page, reading and lazing in his desk chair.

From a mere interview with an agent about a recent outbreak, the topic became much more interesting as the Incineroar’s eyes danced upon the white and stylish Thiren. White fur, fluffy tail, delicate face. Ah, it was everything Xeno could desire as he sighed, slowly melting in his chair. Figuratively.

His eyes went over the well-kept suit straining to handle those sizeable pecs, the arms bulged with such strength, and that stoic eye…

No, Xeno could-

“Hello? Is someone here?”

The voice cut through Xeno’s thoughts. His mind nearly blanked for a second before he hastily extended a hand up.

“I am! I am here!” he shouted to whoever entered the small clinic. At the same time, the Incineroar’s eyes went on the review he held… He gripped it then quickly threw it in a drawer before he straightened himself. Hands over his tufty cheeks to ease them, smoothing the creases on his white shirt, then with his ears twitching, Xeno’s eyes went on to see who was at the counter.

“Greetings. I heard this clinic could help me with a personal matter.”

“… Hi… Personal matter.”

Xeno’s brain had a meltdown, burned, started a fusion until all the neurons reached the critical mass. And left him unable to comprehend and even truly understand his situation. A second before, he was watching Lycaon’s interview, with a few “photos” of the muscular and appealing Canine Thiren.

And… Here he was, stern, his hands over the counter while watching the half-melting Incineroar.

“Hi? Is this a bad moment?”

As soon as the words left Lycaon’s mouth, Xeno’s brain restarted. Thoughts, worries, fear. All went back and away as he sprang up on his chair. Contrary to most people living in New Eridu, Xeno was an anomaly. Not only with his appearance, different from most Thiren… But also due to the fact Xeno’s body, despite its defined frame, was… Moldable. A glance up and down might notice how the fur wasn’t always looking the same and how it sometimes melded with another strand, mixing the gray, black, and red colors. No, Xeno was a hybrid.

And once he recovered his wits, his body seemed to gain a newfound rigidity as he stood up, pushing the chair away, ignoring the mostly empty clinic entrance.

“No! It’s fine! Very fine! I’m… Call me Doctor Xeno! Are you here for the goo prosthetics?”

Lycaon nodded: “Yes. I heard your work is impressive. I have been advised to give your clinic a try. Is it open?”

With a glance at the empty entrance, without anyone but Xeno in the quaint waiting area, it was a fair guess. But no, Xeno stepped around the counter.

“It is open. To be fair, the business isn’t so great. Prosthetics are already en vogue, so I might be too late to the market,” explained Xeno, passing a hand behind Lycaon to usher him. However, as he did so, Xeno could only notice how… Tall Lycaon was. Xeno’s eyes could only be at pecs-level, and those pecs were… The kind Xeno would’ve rubbed his face against.

Still, the Incineroar shook his head as he ushered Lycaon inside the clinic’s sleek and clean practice. Since Xeno had to ditch his other workers, he handled everything himself. Even as he started to explain the price tag and the specifics of the procedure. However, so far, the leader of the Victoria Housekeeping agency had been receptive to any instructions. He seemed even amazed as Xeno pulled a tiny portion of the goo composing his chest to form a Xeno-shaped doll with one missing arm, before illustrating how his goo was supposed to graft itself on the stump and grow from there.

“Before the procedure begins, there are a few… Side effects I must disclose. As I’ll be making your limbs from my goo, it will take a while to settle and stabilize. You might feel… Intense urges as a result of the goo adapting to your body and mixing with your systems,” explained Xeno. “You might feel tired or exhausted, but most clients experience… Increased arousal and libido, some even mention some troubles with their inhibitions. It has no lasting consequences, but I must warn you. Avoid any intense stimuli, be it from pain or pleasure. If you don’t, the goo might destabilize and morph around. Though, given your reputation, it might be fine.”

Concluding with a nervous laugh, Xeno smacked the doll in his hand like a party trick, though the goo merged back with his body.

“I will try to avoid any excessive stimuli. What else is required?” asked Lycaon, stiff and glancing around, checking the curios full of drugs and sundries. By then, Xeno started to pat the table at the center of the room, equivalent to an operational table, with a vat underneath.

“If you might strip and remove your prosthetics, I must check the stumps before the procedure.”

With another stiff nod, the Canine Thiren sat on the table and began with his jacket. Careful, his fingers were dexterous and betraying a care for details as one by one, the layers were removed… And so was exposed his furry chest, the tantalizing abdominal waist, the bulging muscles. Xeno looked away, but it was hard not to be tempted as he heard Lycaon’s faint gruff while he unstrapped the prosthetics and disconnected them, until he was finally… Legless and grunting some more.

Finally, with a sigh of relief, Lycaon stopped, and so Xeno turned… While trying not to bleed or melt as he watched the Victoria Housekeeping Inc’s face…. Almost naked. And though the Incineroar tried to veer his gaze away from Lycaon’s groin, from the bulging and well-filled briefs, he couldn’t… Stop himself from glancing at it entirely. Especially when he had his hands examining the stumps.

Under the Canine’s red gaze, Xeno swallowed his saliva and passed a hand on the stump, feeling the calloused ends.

“This… You are quite healthy,” said Xeno, managing to avoid saying “Quite girthy” by biting his tongue. Nevertheless, he kept enough composure as he reached for the vat of goo underneath the table. A large chunk of his energy was spent collecting it, and now, he picked a large orb of red and black goo. He began to mold and reshape it like it was putty.

“If I might ask, since it might take a while. What do you plan to do with your new legs?”

For a moment, Xeno thought this was a bit too much. Still, he worked on shaping the bare bones of the black-and-red prosthetics, counting on the nervous system to pick up the slack and form the legs as Lycaon saw fit. The silence was dreary, but then…

“I will be using them for my job. It might strain my legs, as my work is physically intense. Fighting is a part of it,” commented Lycaon, almost unsure of how to put it. An answer that was almost too innocent, compared to what Xeno had been thinking. “But I have clients who were curious about my prosthetics. And frustrated as they make some actions impossible, or alas, without danger.”

“Some actions?”

“Requests… Private requests from intimate clients.”

Xeno’s cheeks burned, and though he wasn’t like a fullborn Incineroar, his fur heated up as he pondered and thought about doing… Any kind of private requests with the Canine Thiren. Anything as even the goo he held burned and glowed with an unrepentant desire. One the Incineroar had to bottle down as he hastily worked, linking the nerve endings together as his eyes were darting away from Lycaon’s sizeable groin.

It made his work more difficult, slower. But Xeno already had a hard time thinking about nasty ideas to keep his erection in check. And merely being in Lycaon’s half-naked presence was… Crazy. Wondrous. A perversion he felt was slipping away from him the further he worked on the legs before, by the end of it… The Incineroar felt almost at peace, and relaxed as he added the finishing touches to the legs.

With his steady touch, the goo had started to lose its former coloration, nudged from the natural black-and-red to… Well, white. Pure white. However, it was not the only progress as Xeno’s fingers had to brush the spots where the fur would be, imprinting the need for the Goo to produce strands that would imitate the fur’s presence before the complete and utter integration.

Then, satisfied, he sighed and smiled at the Thiren, raising a hand to invite him to stand on his legs as the changes applied.

Lycaon was amazed. His smile was thin but unfeigned as he moved, his legs like his own. The goo had almost entirely shifted, if not for little dots Xeno was quick to reach out. All the while, the fur bristled from the Thiren’s excitement. Finally, Xeno rubbed his face and hastily reached into his pockets; he pulled a card he gave to Lycaon, with a nod.

“Should you have any issues, you can call me at that number,” he said.

However, Lycaon seemed rather… Ecstatic as he even jumped on his newly given feet, tapping the floor with his heels: “I will. But, so far, it feels like I never lost them!”

With that, Xeno felt like his work was well and done. Another happy client, another day at work. It was to be normal, yet as he returned home after another empty day, the Incineroar could feel… Something.

Usually, as he linked to the clients, he could feel some faint echoes. Thoughts, at most. It was like a part of his nervous system was connected to theirs.

But that connection was fainter, and fainter in the distance. Yet, as he was lying in bed, he felt it. A tug. A phantom sensation that was stronger than anything before. And it was pulling him in one direction.

A direction that, if he were to follow it, would guide him right to Lycaon’s apartment. Right to the little place the Thiren held as his own home. To the quaint living room in which the fighting Canine started to undo and strip, like any typical day.

“They work better than expected,” commented Lycaon, almost proud as he folded his shirt and vest away, feeling stuffy. Rather than merely going home to rest, the Thiren put his newfound legs to the test as he ran, jumped, trained, and exercised with them until he could feel the burn in his chest.

He had been doubtful about the idea, especially when he entered the empty clinic. He almost expected the Incineroar to be more handsy, too, when they entered the practice. And yet, the ogling but quite shy Doc had done a miracle…

The Canine was feeling great. No… Even better than usual, as he removed his pants and felt the sweat sticking to his groin, to his briefs. He smelled the intense aroma of sweat and musk after a workout. Even if he considered himself clean and refined, Lycaon couldn’t deny how… “musky” he could become after a long day.

It was better that he went to the clinic early that day. That cute tiger-like Doc had been blushing and ogling him like crazy, unable to peel his eyes off. Did he even notice his ears twitching whenever the eyes went in the wrong direction, or how his tail swished by moments?

It was almost cute to have him between his legs, to have his head at the right level to do… Something with that Feline.

Steadily, Lycaon bit his legs as blood pumped faster, and as he felt his brief straining under the effort. He could feel his blood rushing to his groin, felt the heat emanating from it like steam… Or a burning presence. Like a fire that needed to be put out. He wasn’t so used to it. Wasn’t so used to… Feeling that enraptured, that needy. He wanted to do something. No, to do something to that Incineroar. He wanted to have that pretty, shy face pressed against his groin, to make him inhale that perfume… To make the “Kitten” mewl from being face-first against Lycaon’s sheath.

And then… “Doctor Xeno. Xeno… You’d look good that way.”

Lustful words, perverse words, but innocuous words. Or so Lycaon thought, if not for the yank, the tug, the feel Xeno had. Those phantom sensations were so intense, so deep, they couldn’t be ignored or set aside. It was like Lycaon’s movements were a part of him. The scent Xeno picked was intense, with hints of dust and cologne. No vision, no sounds. But there were hints of thoughts, of desires; an imperfect perception in which Xeno was slowly driven crazy by the musky perfume tingling his… No, Lycaon’s nose. As the waft of aroma hit the Thiren the moment he peeled his brief off and had his hands on the sheath underneath.

What Xeno had seen before, he experienced through touch and fingertips.

The exterior was soft, with a soft fur covering it. However, sweat drenched the fur, making it stickier to the touch. The Thiren brushed the sheath, touched the flesh, slowly peeking from the folds. His fingers were not enough to cover the organ. It was… Big. So big Xeno wondered if it was not as big as one of his arms, if not bigger.

He couldn’t tell, he couldn’t check. He could only feel the organ throbbing beneath the fingers, the blood rushing to his groin and Lycaon’s, as the sensations melded together in Xeno’s mind.

And in return, Lycaon felt it.

Not the sensations from Xeno as he, too, reached between his legs to grip his cock. But the plaintive moans, the desperation, the needs. Lycaon could feel them, feel the dripping excitation from the shy Incineroar as he had his cock throbbing and pulsating with life, going harder and higher by the second.

A need… A thirst, a desire. Lycaon had it all in his mind as he felt… no, he knew, he knew he had the Incineroar in his hand. A mere pet, a mere toy, a mere… Slut.

It wasn’t what he was used to, but a primal part of Lycaon’s brain was at play, calling the tunes as the Thiren sat on his bed and gripped his cock with two hands.

His cock wasn’t entirely erect, but it was already so lengthy it reached to his pecs.

The knot wasn’t out of the sheath yet, but the sheer width was already tugging on the skinfolds while Lycaon started to… pull on the flesh, pull on the bright and tapered spire. He sighed, giving the flesh a squeeze, only to feel an echo.

“You like it… Don’t you?” Lycaon’s voice is heavy with desire and need as he gives another squeeze, not even hearing the distant mewling from Xeno.

Xeno, who wasn’t even fighting it. He had kicked his bedsheets off. And the smaller Incineroar was now stroking himself, too, though with much more abandon than Lycaon. His hands, going gooey, were gripping and stroking his charcoal-black cock like no tomorrow. He pulled on the foreskin, yanked it down to reveal the bulbous tip while tensing the skin against the veins underneath it.

But it was not enough. Or rather, as he masturbated, Xeno felt the sensations from his own body quasi-dulled, or erased, compared to what he experienced from Lycaon.

A caress on the tip couldn’t compare to a mere exhalation on the Canine’s cock. A lick was barely enough compared to a finger tracing over the red skin. And a mouth… Would be nothing compared to Lycaon’s hard grip on the organ, twinned.

And so it was, how Xeno started to moan and groan, gripping his sheets while his cock, hard and needy, spewed precum all over his thighs and bed.

Afar, Lycaon had gripped his organs with two hands, pumping the needy and burning spire like no tomorrow while growling and inhaling. Inhaling his own aroma, his own musky and raw perfume that drove Xeno insane. The smell of cologne was gone, almost dissipated. So was the scent of clean sheets and a clean home, crushed by the raw aroma of a dog in heat, of a Canine wanting to breed, of an alpha wolf wanting to… Claim.

Yes, to claim.

With his scent, with his presence, with his touch.

And as Lycaon’s pumping grew faster and faster, his cock spurted precum all over his fingers, coating the white fur with that dense and sticky liquid. Jerking himself off was necessary, but so was the pleasure coming from the silent pleas and cries from Xeno. Whenever Lycaon gave his cocktip a squeeze, a firm one, he felt the tremor shaking the Feline in the distance as well as the hint of desire and desperation.

Desperation that grew into ravenous hunger when Lycaon brought one of his precum-covered hands to his face. The scent was strong, too strong, it was burning his nose. Was it worse for Xeno? Probably as his silent mewlings ran through Lycaon’s mind.

But the Canine did not stop so far. He brought his finger to his mouth, letting the raw salty aroma spread and smear over his tongue. It burned, it claimed, it branded.

Xeno mewled, unable to resist as he was given a glimpse, a preview of Lycaon’s taste. That raw and massive cock, he couldn’t see it. But now, he could taste it, and he was to taste it. Moreover, Lycaon was quick to feed him its aroma whenever Xeno’s mind managed to part from the high following each droplet.

In that situation, Xeno was a toy for the Canine. Nothing but a plaything whose plaintive groans and moans drove Lycaon closer and closer to an orgasm.

But not fast enough, not as Lycaon was still keeping himself on edge, and it somehow echoed within Xeno, keeping him from reaching a climax.

Even as the Incineroar’s body trembled and quivered, as he was fed that precum, even that sweat sticking to his body, he couldn’t stop masturbating furiously and heaving like a beast of burden.

On the other side of town, the man he had been fancying was furiously and perversely tormenting him, keeping him… maintaining at the limit before he could cum.

He felt those hands brushing those pecs, rubbing those nipples, exploring those clearly defined muscles. He experienced the fingers delving and brushing the armpits, touching them, and collecting the sweat before Lycaon sniffed it. All to drive Xeno insane. The Feline sensed the fingers delving into that fat scrotum, into that length red cock, into that humongous knot that must have been as wide as a baseball bat.

And Xeno… Quivered.

He trembled, feeling sick, shaken, driven, yearning. His breathing hastened while he felt Lycaon’s deviant exploration focus more and more on that shaft as it throbbed with excitation and need.

One need Lycaon had to answer to. A primal need that was akin to breeding and fucking, but here it was… Dominating, taking hold of the situation, and keeping it. Keeping the upper hand as he felt that tinge of pleasure when he tormented and teased the Feline.

One that was to grow and keep increasing, hitting and smashing against Lycaon’s brain and thoughts until he was feeling… No, he was experiencing the Feline’s plaintive pleasure… And that forceful, powerful, brutal… Orgasm.

Lycaon didn’t feel it directly; he didn’t feel the brutal ejaculation going through the air like a white jet before it landed on the sheets.

But he sensed the pain wrought by the legs almost cramping from the intense orgasm, he sensed how the Feline fought against the tensing muscles and articulations. He experienced the rush of delight as the thoughts and fears were washed away by bliss.

Bliss.

And it echoed.

It echoed through Lycaon and was to echo through their links as the Thiren let it go. His grip relaxed, but it pulled the flesh down one last time. Then, without much more noise, without much more… Statement, Lycaon felt his groin contract and his mind relax.

His body almost relaxed… Except for his hips that pumped on their own, humping the air, fucking nothing. They moved perfectly, supported by those newly found artificial legs. And Lycaon even went as far as biting his lips while… Cumming.

Indignant as a part of his mind could be, watching the humongous ejaculation painting white the nearest closet, it was hot. Enrapturing to see his cock, red and fully erect with the knot out, bouncing and sometimes straightening when a pulse coursed through it, foretelling of another shot. And another.

The sensation was pleasing, oh so satisfying for Lycaon, whose mind was still linked to the Feline. He experienced the echo, felt how their minds were circling the same moment as they were cumming altogether, all as one. It was odd, intimate, exciting. Shameful, maybe?

Nevertheless, Lycaon savored the pleasure sweeping over his body, stealing away all the stress and pressure he’d been suffering from. Instead, there was… The peace, the relaxation as he dropped onto the bed, the wave of exhaustion finally hitting him. As well as the realization that he would have to clean everything tomorrow.

Yet, he closed his eye.

He felt tired, exhausted. And maybe it was from the Feline who had dropped quiet in the second after his last ejaculation. He didn’t even fight it; he didn’t even try to stay awake. Instead, the Thiren breathed out… And felt himself drowning in what was the first peaceful night he had had in the last few weeks.

One so deep, it was only in the afternoon that he woke up, feeling sore as he woke up on the floor instead of the bed.

Awake, Lycaon found no traces of the link. He tried again to grip his genitals or call Xeno, but he found nothing linking him back at the moment. Did he really try something as shameful again? Nevertheless, the Canine’s face burned with shame as he acted like a pervert.

Much like Xeno’s.

All day, all evening, all night, the Incineroar’s face had been burning from what he had experienced, like a voyeur. He was afraid, too, that Lycaon might call him out or cancel the installation of the new prosthetics. It might be the end of Xeno’s clinic, too.

A thought that plagued him as he remained hidden behind the counter, his nose pressed against the nearest computer’s screen… Not even listening to the boots hitting the floor, but hearing the nails clicking on the counter.

“Hi… Is this possible to do… A check-up now?”

The voice was familiar, almost warm.

But warmer were Xeno’s cheeks as he tried to hide a smile, a blush, the desire to shout “YES”. Instead, he nodded to Lycaon, who seemed as anxious as he was.

“Let’s… Check this out together, shall we?”

With that, Xeno won a regular client and someone who, luckily enough, wasn’t angry or frustrated from his goo making some changes on its own.

Besides the link, which Xeno found ways to activate and deactivate at will, through some trials and errors, the Incineroar started to notice a few changes in Lycaon. Not that the Butler changed much by himself: he remained that same Thiren on the inside, a perfect picture of wits and asceticism.

However, as time passed, neither Xeno nor Lycaon could deny the Wolf was different. His arms were bulkier, fighting against the straps he often used to complete his suit. If it wasn’t only for the arms’ sheer bulk, the shoulders broadened while Lycaon’s torso fought against his custom-made suit. Even his legs, or the base, were getting bigger. Enough that Xeno had to add more goo to stabilize the integration.

Nevertheless, neither Xeno nor Lycaon was keen on stopping the changes.

Not Xeno, as his eyes were regularly dancing and admiring his “work”. Lycaon’s corded muscles were often on display for him whenever Lycaon came for a check-up.

Lycaon? He seemed to detest the regular change of clothes, to pick new sets only for him to outgrow them a few weeks later. However, he seemed to enjoy another perk. His facial hair was growing in new and unexpected way, his brows thickening, the fur on his cheeks thinning except on his cheekbones, while his chin started to grow a dark goatee, naturally. It made the Butler look thinner and older, yet with the added bulk, he had the look of a man without excess and in complete control of his body.

A stern presence ready to break anyone who stands in his path.

And yet, his presence in Xeno’s clinic was a boon. With it came a constant influx of clients wanting their prosthetic. Although the Incineroar always kept enough leeway in case Lycaon needed a surprise check-up, he always secured a slot in his schedule if warned.

Such as that evening, after a long day of work, Xeno was tired yet rejuvenated to see Lycaon enter the empty building. All the clients for the day were gone, as well as Xeno’s staff. At that point, it only took a little nod for Xeno to usher Lycaon inside, but not without noticing more dark hair forming the start of a black beard around Lycaon’s mouth, and more tufts growing over his collarbone, his forearms, and even… His legs.

With a sigh, Xeno closed the door to the practice, already watching Lycaon strip and fold his clothes. He never threw them away, always careful with each piece, even if he was to outgrow them soon. Nevertheless, he unveiled the body Xeno admired so much, until, naked, the Thiren sat on the table with his hands on his knees.

“Shall we proceed?” Lycaon asked, demurely.

“I… I don’t think we need further verification,” said Xeno, smiling as he felt the tingle in the back of his mind, akin to the link. However, he had turned it off, and even then, Lycaon seemed to be fully aware of the Incineroar’s desires. Enough that, as Xeno approached, a large hand cupped and gripped his jaw.

“Then. What do you desire today, Xeno?”

A question, a simple question, but so heavy in connotation, the Incineroar gulped. His eyes drifted down, as expected, to Lycaon’s groin and genitals. He watched that cock that wasn’t hard at all, but girthy and engorged enough it had started to peek from the sheath.

A reddish and contrasting presence, Xeno could not stop reaching for, touching, and caressing until the peeking shaft became an outstretched spire.

“I- Might want- To do something with you, Lycaon,” said Xeno through heaving breaths. “I want you to fuck me.”

“You want me to be more than that, Xeno,” countered Lycaon, raising the jawline further, eye meeting eyes. “You want me to be your Daddy, to dominate you. Right?”

Then, the lower jaw was released, but Xeno’s eyes remained on Lycaon’s unique eye. And he nodded. He nodded as his clothes strained from the excitement: “Yes. Please.”

At no point had Xeno made his appreciation discreet, commenting and praising Lycaon on the change and keeping that goatee. So, it was without a surprise as Lycaon stood up, reaching for Xeno. He massaged the Feline’s thighs with those gargantuan hands.

“We shall not wait for this,” he said, with a tone that was almost lubricious as he lifted Xeno in one movement and sat him on the examination table. Without much more wait, Lycaon removed Xeno’s pants with a dexterous touch, his current bulk put in doubt.

Pants, underwear, shirt, and everything else were removed until Xeno was naked and excited in the middle of the practice. His charcoal cock pointing up, it even dripped when Lycaon neared the cat and… Kissed him. Lycaon kissed Xeno, passing a hand over the Feline’s neck while their cocks were rubbing together, sometimes with the tip touching as Lycaon moved and pumped his hips to please and tease Xeno.

In return, the Feline moaned, silenced, and ran his hands over Lycaon’s body. He felt… Something through the link uniting them. Not the same sensations they shared, but something different, like a warmth that wasn’t his. But one that was boiling over, spreading through the Thiren’s body, underlining every limb, every part of his anatomy. Was it… How Lycaon changed?

Through kisses, Xeno watched how the Canine’s goatee spread further, black hair creeping over the cheeks and the muzzle, reaching almost to the black nose but leaving it untouched as that beard formed.

The same black hair that seemed to form a tuft and darker hue over Lycaon’s pectorals, creating a darker blot that stretched in all directions, both in width and downward through a happy trail. However, as it did, Xeno’s nose tingled with a new aroma. Not the shampoo, when Lycaon had a fairly simple day. But the rough aroma that came from a day of battle… One brutal and intense, enticing, too, that guided Xeno’s nostrils to approach and lean closer to another darker tuft he was certain wasn’t there before. He abandoned the kisses and the lips to press his nostrils against the shoulder, then the right pectoral… Until Lycaon widened his stance, Xeno could press his nose against the armpit, right where the sweat naturally accumulated.

“Aren’t you a musk… Slut?” asked Lycaon, clearly unused to employ such vocabulary.

Xeno didn’t answer. Or rather, he answered by rubbing his nose against the dark tuft, barely stopped by Lycaon’s hand landing between his ears.

Then, as that breath hastened, as each inhalation became shallower… Lycaon peeled the Incineroar back, his muzzle damp with sweat.

“Let’s not hasten this, shall we?”

“K-Not.”

“Not?”

“Knot… Me.”

Lycaon’s expression changed, bemused by the request. Then, his face contorted with a more vile… No, a more tempted expression. His brows dropped, his gaze hardened, and his hands reached for Xeno’s thighs to spread them and yank him closer to the table’s edge, with his legs dangling.

“It shall be so, then.”

By that, Lycaon lifted Xeno’s posterior, forcing him to lean back and admire the Butler, who was now built like a linebacker with impressive upper-torso strength. However, what truly impressed was that cold demeanor, the calculated actions Lycaon took, amplifying his grizzled presence. His looks that made Xeno not only scream Daddy… But yearn for the Thiren’s presence. Without even thinking, the Incineroar reached to stroke the black fur on the Thiren’s muzzle, guiding him into another kiss before Lycaon had his cock guided against Xeno’s entrance.

Luckily for the Gooey Incineroar, he could change and adapt, take something with relative ease. Lycaon already started as impressive, but his cock was now so thick, it was almost as long as a bat, and definitely wider. Way wider as Xeno felt his guts speared and spread by the sheer organ. The tapered tip first, the Incineroar’s belly bulged and formed a lovely bump through which he could feel Lycaon’s heartbeat and shape, through which he could almost stroke the Canine’s shaft while the hips moved closer. And closer. And closer.

Closer as Xeno’s guts adapted. Closer as their breaths united through kisses. Closer, as their needs were loud and clear.

Even Xeno’s cock was dripping like crazy and yet, the back-and-forth hadn’t begun. Not yet, not at that moment as the Thiren was digging his way inside, spreading Xeno’s orifice and ensuring it was ready. Then, as the pressure was the most intense, as the cock was almost inside save for the knot… Lycaon pulled back.

Emptiness. Xeno felt empty in one breathtaking move, only then to be filled by Lycaon’s monstruous cock. Those testicles, too, had grown and as they smacked against Xeno’s plump ass, they clapped with a resonating echo. Ensued the slight reshaping of Xeno’s ass from the shock and reconstruction… Before those cheeks were smacked again and that body rocked.

“F-aster!” begged Xeno, far too needy to wait for more. With each thrust, his lovely prostate was getting abused and teased.

And in return, Lycaon enjoyed the supple but welcoming hole, one that could take him compared to the many women and men daunted by his sheer “girth”. Here, he found an orifice that was eagerly prepared for him. And wanting for more as he wanted, too, to knot that ass.

He wasn’t waiting. Wouldn’t. His breath hastening, the Thiren gritted his teeth while his hips pumped faster and faster. The muscles burned like no day before, of those legs renewed and perfectly merged with his body. His heart pumped faster.

His breathing itself became ragged as with each inhalation, he rushed to meet Xeno’s lips. Each time, his knot was pushing further and further, not yet passing through. The ring was still too tight, but it was to give up.

It would give up.

Xeno required it. Begged for it. And he kept begging, despite the blabbering sounds coming from that mouth with each breath. Lycaon wanted to provide… He hit, smacked, pummeled.

He pushed and pushed and… With a wet plop, he felt the rim finally open enough for the knot to slip through. To feel the sheer width, press on the hole before it closed behind.

The shock, the surprise, the moment… It stole Lycaon’s focus and gritting will as he felt the waves of warmth and desires hit him, likewise to the flood of semen pouring inside Xeno, filling him up.

Hot warm cum stuffed Xeno’s belly, making the tired and heaving Incineroar smile stupidly as he watched the cumshot push through, extending his skin… And then recede as his belly was getting rounder by the second. So much cum, so much need. And yet, as Xeno felt the afterglow hit him like a bat… He only had eyes for Lycaon’s gruff face, watching the daddy-like Thiren relaxing. And smiling like he never did before. A vision Xeno wanted oh-so-dearly to cherish as he craned his neck, ready for another kiss with that man he had given new legs.