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The Outer Ring remained a place nobody would dare to cross willingly, unless with a good reason. And for one to drive a bike through the empty expanses, dragging along clouds of fumes and dust?

It was almost a call, a flaring signal telling everyone and everything to come closer and kill them. However, it wasn't a stupid act of a child trying to prove himself he had the “cojones". No, it was a distinct call, a challenge to any fool who decided to become bandits.

And so, as a group of criminals formed a roadblock with whatever they could find, dry wood and drier rocks, the results were expected. The biker slowed down, the engine's rumbling easing before it came to a stop, within a cloud of dust, a few feet away from the roadblock.

“Hands up where we can see them, cunt. And drop everything you've got. Weapons."

The voice came from a criminal, another Thiran, helmeted but having the traits of a king cobra. He wielded a double-barrel shotgun that was enough to deter most. Similarly to his flock, composed of a Rooster and maybe an Ox. There were a few goons, humans, though the wraps over their faces made it difficult to confirm. To guess, with their posture? Easily.

With a growl, the biker jumped off his seat and massaged his neck, feeling it stiff under that bright red fur as he stomped onward.

“Urf. They told there were morons around here, but never such a group," grunted the Biker with a gravely voice. One fitting his elderly look, from his scraggly white beard to his unattached white mane flowing over his back.

Porcine to a fault, completed by tusks and a pig nose, Big Daddy kinda had a reputation in those badlands, but none reacted. His sunglasses adjusted, his suit impeccable except for the dust forming little mounds over his shoulders, he tried not to show an eager smile as he watched the shotgun's cannon. Instead, he mimicked ignorance as it seemed his “friends" were unaware of who he was. Still, old, scraggly, with a fit physique, with wrinkled skin… They were eager to shake him down, it seemed.

“Go on, old man. Throw us the keys… Don't play smart," said the Cobra, his tongue flicking.

“Yes. Don't play smart with us or we'll give you a second butthole."

“Something tells me you need to learn something about Sons of Calydon."

“Sons of what? Right now, I only hear a son of a bitch who's having a death wish!"

The fingers twitched on the trigger, trembling a little. Someone who knew how to shoot but hadn't become a stone-cold killer yet. Everyone around was the same way… Which made it almost better, easier, as the porcine Therin dusted off his shoulders.

“See. There was an old guy in my former gang… He thought he was a big shot and-“

[I]BANG!

[/I]The shot echoed through the badlands, carried along by the lazy wind and whispery sand. However, the shooting rifle, the Ox's rifle, hadn't touched the target. Rather, there was a Boar holding the gun up, a thin smile on his face.

“Ok. I'll tell you in a sec."

---

Dusting his old gloves, Big Daddy commented on the recent gift he received before he turned to the flock of Therins. Only three of them in the end, the rest were humans who instantly fled as soon as they saw their boss hit the ground.

Too cowardly to help those they've been following, those poor bastards ran in all directions. Except the one Big Daddy intended to follow as he dragged the stunned and disarmed trio to a nearby cave he'd used before.

It was an old spot, used to endure the sandstorms. An old fire pit, almost devoid of cinders, was at the center, and a few stone blocks were used as seating. Though… It didn't matter to him as Big Daddy opened his black vest, exhibiting the white shirt right beneath his flowery bandana.

His hands went on his bracers, he undid with a clunk, letting them drop in the same corner where he threw his shoes. And so, it continued… Or so it would as, when he was with the buckle, he heard a voice.

“Hey, old man. What are you doing? Stripping?"

“Hah… Yeah. Stripping. Awake? How's your head?" asked Big Daddy, laughing to himself as he turned his back on the awake Cobra, continuing to strip.

“Well enough to know I'm in deep shit. What are you? A bounty hunter? A cop? What's that with the stripping? Hey… Hey! I talk to you!"

With a sigh, the old Therin rolled his exposed shoulders. Scars peppered the skin beneath the fur, exposing his advanced age as much as the traces of white fur along his spine and fuzzy belly… But as he turned, his pants and underwear dropped, it was clear that, as old as Big Daddy was… he remained Big. And kinda impressive to look at. He was hairy, muscular, and a sort of aura emanated from the old man as he scratched the happy trail running from his pecs to his groin. His glasses still on, he scanned the Cobra raider, who didn't look as impressive as he tried to wiggle away, though the only result was for him to look like a worm.

“Where I was… Yes. There was a guy who thought he was the biggest shot in the Gang. Tall. Maybe two heads above you, little Snake," began Big Daddy, crouching.

By then, the bound Cobra hissed, snarled, and tried to kick against the ropes. In vain. But it was adorable to see. Big Daddy watched it and noted how the Raider had his sensors fixated on Big Daddy's genitals… On that heavy ballsack, covered with red fur except for the white raphe, and on that long uncut cock that was long enough it was on the ground when he squatted. No… More than that, that fat roll bead of precum rolling free from the partially covered dark urethra.

“What nonsense are you talking about? Fuck you! You old crazy fucker!"

Without much more to say, Big Daddy reached out and gripped the Snake's pants. Evidently, the Raider tried to shake them off. But once the fingers locked on the fabric, they ripped it off.

“MY PANTS! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THEY COST ME?! FUCKER!"

“That guy was… Well. Bigger than you, as I can say," continued Big Daddy, ripping the Cobra's jockstrap the same way until the dark-brown genitals were exposed. And clearly, if Big Daddy was around ten inches more or less, the snake was around seven inches. Normal for a Therin, but not so impressive compared to Big Daddy.

“So big in fact, he thought he had to fuck all the girls. He hit the waitress, the ladies, everyone and everything that walked and had tits on it."

“I DON'T FUCKING CARE!"

The Cobra's roar was loud. But it didn't even wake up his teammates, who had taken a worse beating, their helmets almost split apart compared to his. But he regretted to be the one who was awake as he had his cock handled by calloused fingers tugging and playing with it.

“He tried every girl. A lot refused. But there was that pretty girl, a mechanic. I didn't like her… But she was all right. And she refused him. Until that guy told himself, 'Hey… I could force myself on her'."

Big Daddy even scoffed at the words, though he continued to handle the Cobra's genitals. He pinched the tip to get the foreskin rolling and revealing. He had his little fingers brushing against the exposed nuts. And then, he breathed against the tip, almost one whisper away from… Sucking it.

But no, he didn't. Rather, the Boar shifted his posture. He leaned forward, advanced on his knees… He almost crawled until their cocks were pressed together… Big Daddy's was already half-hard, dripping with a musky precum heavy with hints of sweat, dust, and shaved steel.

The Cobra? He was soft, even after all those handlings.

“Release me! And I won't tell anyone you're a pervert!"

“So he forced her. Fucked. Everyone thought about beating that guy, but it'd be bad press. So… Instead. I went to his bedroom. Cocky as he was, he was a heavy sleeper and slept naked. You know, with only the sheets to cover his dick and barely having any hygiene. That type? Yeah."

As he spoke, Big Daddy continued to press, to approach the organs… Until their tips touched. And the Cobra groaned.

The touch was warm, strange. But worse was the sensation of cold and heat that spread through his dick as he sensed… Something go inside him. Was it possible? It didn't seem so. Yet, he watched as the Boar continued to crawl closer and pressed their cocktips together. And he cried, as he felt all that pressure focus on one spot, his peephole.

“Shit! What are you doing? You fucker! Let go of my cock! That's not a cunt! You can't fuck it!"

“I knew I could make myself… Different, capable of doing anything. But never before I fucked someone's dick. I did. And I learned there's a lot of way I can punish cunts like you."

“Don't… Don't do that, dude!"

Still, far from stopping or following the Criminal's orders, the hairy Boar inched closer and closer. Behind his sunglasses, there was a hint of emotion, a sort of glow, while that mouth split in a ravenous smile. A hunger, one that was not for food and meat, but something far more insidious. As he pressed his cocktip against the Criminal, the Cobra groaned. He felt like his pisshole was on fire, burning from the inside and out as the pressure increased. Even his breath quickened while his groin clenched. But then… With something that was as surprising as disgusting, as fascinating, the Cobra watched his tip open… And let the Boar's cock slip inside.

“The first time is the worst for you all. You clench, you fight, you are afraid. My dick, you can't take it," huffed Big Daddy, mimicking someone's higher pitch. “Yes… Your pisshole shouldn't. But that's the funky thing with ether and the corruption. It twists things, there."

The Boar took another deep breath and he pushed his cock further. From his point of view, the Cobra could see the sides of his cock bulge, the underside bloated and expanding in all directions to accommodate the growing urethra. He groaned, too, feeling the burn that spread down and down, announcing the cock's progress with an ample margin.

Soon enough, the Cobra's altered voice came with a whimper while the sensors were fixed on Big Daddy, on that enormous chest soaked with sweat, on the white strands nestled between those large pecs, or on the movements made by the abdominal waist and higher.

That Boar was crazy. But it was crazy to say this was his first time; he moved with purpose, with determination, with an economy of movements, while his hands brushed the Cobra's groin, squeezing the prostate below the scaly skin.

“You're afraid… And curious. Aren't you? Feeling your dick fucked that way… Not hurting as much as you think it does. Feel it moving? Afraid, aren't you?"

As he uttered those words, Big Daddy pulled back for an inch, one sole inch, but it was like all the heat and burning the Cobra had been experiencing for the last few minutes had vanished, salved, soothed. Remained only a sensation of emptiness, completed, fulfilled, crushed by Big Daddy's cock going back inside once more.

By that big Boar leaning forward, bending, with his hands on either side of the Snake. Both grunted, both groaned, both almost bent while the Cobra had the Boar's sweat dripping over his chest and helmet.

“You won't die. I won't kill you with that, little one. But I'll teach you not to fuck with good people. People who try to make a living out there."

“So-Sorry," groaned the Reptile, whistling that word as he craned his neck, tensed his body. Big Daddy's cock was… Almost to the base, almost hilted, and his entire cock was stretched in a sensation that wasn't with any equal. Utterly alien.

“Oh. You'll be, boy. A shame, you could have been a good one, working in the field and helping rebuild. We need strong hands, but you let that junk get to your head."

As the Boar continued to speak, the Cobra noted something. That the Boar was not even exhausted. As he spoke, it was with certainty. As he articulated one word, it wasn't for it to be cut by a deep breath, a wince, or anything. It was like a speech, carefully prepared. But it wasn't, it couldn't be.

“Why… Who? Ah… It's… MOTHERFUCKER!"

The Cobra cried as he felt a pang of pleasure and delight hit his groin. He didn't know what it was, but he felt it. He sensed it as his large and heavy testicles were pulled closer to his body, making his abdomen burn. But it didn't produce anything, not even a cumshot. Out of breath, stunned, the Cobra watched as he looked down again… Down to his cock that bulge and the bulge that seemed to have… Gone inside?

He heaved… Then he looked up to that elderly Boar, watching a thin smile spread on that face, despite the sweat dripping all over that exposed muscular body… And that mane draping down.

“Fuck… Fuck… What's-… That?!" shouted the Cobra, halfway stunned by the pleasure he had experienced. And halfway stunned by the touch on his groin, on his testicles that were rolled between his fingers.

“Your prostate, boy. I told you… About that guy I fucked. When I took his dick, he hissed like you. But when I reached that spot. He mewled like a kitten, purred no different than a good bike. Little engine that begged and wanted more," said Big Daddy with a chuckle, his calloused fingers dancing on the Cobra's groin, before he pushed further.

There, the Snake tensed and his back arched, against it, by another strike. Another jolt that coursed up his spine before he relaxed… And sighed… And looked at the Boar, stroking the bulging groin, his cock bulging through the scales.

“'Feels great, right? It works even better with you. Raiders, high on Ether. Your body is missing something. It wants it. It craves for it. You feel good, and you want more. You'll always want more. Just like that guy," commented Big Daddy as he stopped. He didn't move away, he didn't budge. But by readjusting his hips, he shifted the angle at which his cock penetrated the Cobra's. It forced everything to bend, to move, and produced another jolt as the Cobra observed the cross-armed Boar looking at him, breaking a sweat, but nothing else.

“Ye-Yeah? And-And? It feels good… Great. Bu- But I won't break!"

“You will," said the Boar, uncrossing his arms and… Punching.

As a reflex, the Cobra tensed his arms and legs, trying to cover his face and helmet. But he didn't. He couldn't, bound as he was. And as the fist connected with the helmet's reflective surface, it cracked.

Enough for the light from the fire pit to come clearer through a crack. And for a green glow to escape from the helmet.

The Cobra gasped, his heart drumming inside his chest as he observed the Boar retract his fist, huffing and satisfied.

“Because I will take that from you, and more."

Now, those words sounded less like a speech or a rambling. But a threat. One that grew, loomed over, and intimidated as the Boar leaned forward. His entire body bulged with strength, and the Cobra was bound to groan and moan as, once more, the pressure on his prostate shifted. But soon, the light from the fire pit seemed to disappear.

Instead, there was the Boar's shadow all over him, hiding away everything until there was only the green glow revealing the presence of the hairy chest, of the sweat dripping from it… As it was pressed against the helmet.

That torso was pressed, with the strands rubbing against the crack, soaking it. And as the Boar moved, the Cobra felt one thing hit his face. Not his helmet. His face, inside.

One drop. One drop of a liquid so musky, so salty, so “acrid", it tore his nose apart. And healed it back. He took one sharp breath, smelling that pungent aroma that filled his helmet with one single drop. And more were coming, like a rain inside his helmet, seeping through the cracks to fall on his muzzle, on his forehead, almost his eyelids.

And soon.. The Cobra's breathing relaxed, his body eased… Even his legs opened further as he sighed, taking in the aroma that filled his lungs.

“Good boy. You love it. You always love it. Stench of a hard-working man. You want more."

The Cobra didn't nod. But it was no different. Big Daddy was so certain, so self-assured, as he continued to rub his body against the helmet, while he had his cock still stuck within the Cobra.

A surprise. A… Detail almost. Somehow, fucking his cock was fine. It didn't hurt. Nor did it provoke as many jolts as before. It felt warm, nice… Smooth.

The Cobra's eyes looked down, glancing at his cock that was moving along the ample hips thrusts from the Boar. Then, he returned to Big Daddy's chest… To that sweat that kept pouring and making him unable to breathe what wasn't the Boar's stench and musk.

“What… What are you doing?"

The question came. And was answered by a chuckle, by a hand descending along the Cobra's belly and groin to grab his testicles, rolling them.

“I will take the Ether out of you and your friend. Fucking it out of you. And then…"

“Then?"

“We'll see. Boy."

No threat. But it remained ominous for the Cobra, whose irises dilated and whose nostrils filled with each hyperventilating breath. His body wasn't tense, but relaxed. His legs were wider. His arms didn't hurt as much. Even his shoulders dropped and relaxed as the smell had something akin to a numbing effect.

However, again, it only lessened the hit. But didn't erase what the Cobra had to experience as the Boar's cock delved further again, making the bulge on the groin more prominent. Even the Cobra's bladder started to feel funny and fuzzy from all the pressure building up inside.

But the Boar continued, uncaring whether the Cobra's scrotum clenched and was pulled up.

He advanced, progressing, steadily thrusting until there was no more room to give and no more room to take: their groins were joined…

The Cobra's cocktip brushed against the Boar's groin, feeling the hairy strands brushing his cocktip in a funny way… And for a moment, the atmosphere felt heavy.

Big Daddy took a long, sharp breath, preparing himself.

And he thrust.

He pulled back.

And he thrust.

Again.

Gone was the sensual progress, the careful rubbing of the chest against the helmet.

Instead, the Cobra was a prisoner as he watched the Boar go on all fours, pistoning inside his cock like a machine.

All the while, he saw the hulking Porcine body at work.

He saw every part tensing. He observed the chest lifting and dropping with each of the Boar's breaths. He heard him grunting and growling, going down a path from an almost fatherly figure… To a brutal rutting beast.

All the while, the Cobra felt numb. Not entirely numb, but separated from himself, from the situation. He was a witness, an observer, watching someone so masculine and powerful overpower him and… Not even hurting him.

He heaved, his mind racing with new thoughts as he questioned the situation. Fucking his cock? Taking the Ether? That aroma?

Was it not a moment where his mind had finally dropped and broken down from all that time raiding the Hollows?

Was he fully there? Was he hallucinating?

“No. You're not."

The Boar's voice was certain, yanking back the Cobra from his rumination. Had he been rambling?

Still, the movements didn't stop. And the Boar continued to push and pump, going like a machine as his body glistened from the eerie green glow. Even that mane smacked against the helmet as the growls were growing in intensity. And something inside the Cobra was building up, too.

He held his breath, they held their breaths.

Bracing for an impact.

One that happened.

One that swept over the Cobra. He cried, feeling the sensations coming back to him at once: the crushing pressure on his prostate, inside his cock… In his ballsack? He sensed the searing hot fluids pouring within his private parts, swarming them with a burn that shouldn't be.

He felt his muscles sore again. He felt his lungs aflare. He was back. Suddenly back.

And amidst all this. He was bliss.

His eyes rolled in their sockets as he felt so good.

Big Daddy's cock had plunged deep within his cock, within his prostate, to the point the bulging groin almost delineated the organ. However, it was with a joy the Cobra watched it.

He observed each of the throb from the Boar's dick as it pumped more cum inside him.

It flooded the Cobra's inside, and in a strange and almost impossible way, he felt it in his testicles. He felt that spunk swarming his nuts, making them go warmer and swell. It was absurd, impossible, nigh insulting to imagine it could happen.

But it did.

It did, and the Cobra felt something else along with that swelling sensation. He gasped for air, jolted, trembled… Quivered. He felt cold, colder. Like a wave washing over him. He felt weaker, too, as he observed Big Daddy above him, still, but breathing aloud.

The Cobra's fingers clawed the air, still bound as he was, as he was feeling more. As that spunk was pumped inside him, filling his nuts until they were swollen and aching, he felt something leave him.

He felt… A throb, coursing from his head to his body.

“What-… What's happening?" he managed to say, slurring all the way while the Boar remained silent, if not for his growl.

Then, mesmerized by the sight, Big Daddy exhaled. He exhaled, and the Cobra watched his body… Jolt. The arms at first, moving involuntarily. Then the chest, moving… Even that neck as the Boar tensed.

He exhaled again, but this time… His entire body seemed to throb. Before the Cobra's eyes, the entire Boar throbbed, and somehow looked… Bigger? Definitely was. Veins popped from beneath the red fur, bulging so much you could peer at them on the neck and the pectorals.

The muscles, already defined underneath the red and white fur, underneath the hairy white strands, were coiling and bulging further, breaking the visible harmony. The neck was the most visible part, as it seemed it was getting bigger while the head remained the same.

The rest of the body followed that same tangent. The veins on the arms popped, and with a loud pop, it seemed the articulations were… Redone. Shoulders, elbows, wrists, fingers. All were remade, realigned as one hand landed on the Cobra's helmet.

One hand that covered the front of the Helmet at first. Then entirely, enough to grasp the whole glass orb and… Yank on it. Big Daddy yanked on the helmet, pulling it away while ripping all the straps keeping the helmet steady… To expose the Cobra's face.

The scales on that face were dark brown, though a few were still green around the left eye. But he looked puny. Smaller, less impressive without that helmet.

No, even with that helmet, as the Cobra, Big Daddy, and anyone witnessing it could see how the Cobra looked… Smaller.

His skin wasn't sagging, but his muscles were akin to deflating. They were not bulging as much, the scaly surface no longer taut by the presence within. And steadily, as the hulking Cobra seemed to lessen, to be reduced… It made all the more obvious that most parts of the Boar's anatomy were growing… More like that cock that continued to grow inside the Cobra, stretching the Reptile's urethra until it seemed more like a hollow fleshlight used by the Boar than a cock by itself, meaty and big.

However, before the Cobra could say one thing, he had his muzzle pressed between the bountiful pectorals, the nose rubbed against the soaked white strands. Forced to inhale nothing but the stench from the Boar, the Snake was almost sedated. He couldn't move; he couldn't do anything with his hands and legs.

But even then, there were only satisfied sighs coming from the Reptile as his body was pressed between a rock and a rock-hard body, feeling each of the growth spurts like a weight added to his entire frame.

And for what felt like… Hours, the Cobra sensed the coldness from his body, seeping further within his muscles, balanced by the all-encompassing heat coming from the Boar. From breathing that masculine musk to merely having his body pressed and squeezed beneath Big Daddy, the Cobra was… Pressed by that blanket of a body, unable and unwilling to push free.

Not even as he heard the sound of ripped ropes, as he felt the tension on his arms and legs release. He didn't move, too focused on taking one breath, one after another.

But as usual, as for everything great, that moment was to pass. The grunts, the bulging, the throbs stopped. Everything. Only remained the crackling of the fire and their breaths, the other members of the Cobra's gang, the Cobra himself… And Big Daddy above. Silence.

One that was, sadly for the Cobra, broken when the massive Boar pulled free.

By then, sweat had covered the entirety of the Cobra's face, even seeping into his nose. His chest and arms had been soaked the same.

But the more Big Daddy pulled free, the more evident the changes were.

The Cobra was not as muscular and impressive. His body didn't look as powerful and hardened as before. Even his scales felt smoother, less masculine, as the scutes' growth along the articulations was gone. Even the calloused digits were soft now, as he passed them over his body to feel the absence of defined abdominal muscles, over the flabby arms. Then, he looked down at his manhood.

Not so impressive anymore, the Cobra watched as Big Daddy pulled from his cock… Slowly, steadily. With it, vanished the pressure on the prostate, on the bladder, on the urethra. But as the enormous and bulbous cocktip popped free… The Cobra shivered, feeling empty. Stripped of something that had been an intrinsic part of him. And even as he watched his swollen testicles, almost twice their previous size, he felt he was… lacking.

Maybe it was his cock that looked deflated or less impressive? Or his gaping urethra? Or merely the length itself that wasn't so long anymore. He looked at it, then grabbed his shaft to tug on it, careful not to… Touch his gaping pisshole.

“It won't get hard anymore, boy," said Big Daddy. Even his voice was rougher, more… Deep. It rumbled through the cave and through the Cobra's body as he watched the Boar approach, wrap his powerful arms around the Cobra, and help him sit down.

In that situation, the Cobra wasn't even sure he could get free from those massive mittens. They were like a jail, but they were warm and protective.

“What? I…" started the Cobra, his palm holding onto his shaft. Before, his cock would've filled the entire palm with its sheer width. Now? It looked less. Even as he stroked, even as he felt blood rushing inside. But it wasn't… Stiff.

“I lied. If that guy, that bastard, couldn't fuck anyone anymore, it wasn't only for me. A lot, though," said Big Daddy, inching closer. Closer enough, the aroma coming from him hit the Cobra again. And this time, the Raider could tell the difference with the perfume he smelled before: the Boar was smellier, and his perfume was deeper, with a few more hints of dust and rust. It was soft… Pleasant. No… Addictive.

“Once I fucked his dick and took everything from him, he couldn't get hard anymore. With the girls, with the men, no one. His dick wasn't so impressive anymore and he could only use it for two things…"

The Cobra's eyelids lifted, surprised. Confused. Watching as the Boar lifted two digits.

“Piss… And have it fucked by me. Bad luck, boy, you fell on the nastiest bastard."

As he said that, the Boar's grin grew wider, showing the clean teeth as he let his fingers drop and run over the Snake's body. With each touch, it only reminded the criminal of what he'd lost and what the Boar had taken. Those pectorals would have been his. Those hard-as-steel abdominal muscles would be his. Even that cock, almost twice its previous size, would have been his.

The Cobra shuddered, watching as the hardened Biker's fingers, more calloused than even, reached for his cock… And began to finger it, slipping two digits inside the widened urethra.

“Fu-Fuck… I'm-“

“You're fucked. Pretty much," chuckled the Boar, his large nose rubbing against the Cobra's face. Yet, as the old Man chuckled, the Criminal couldn't find it in him to hate him.

Not because he was weak, certainly he was. But when he fucked him, he took away something that had been weighing on him from so long.

“You'll.. Give us back to the authorities?" asked the Cobra, heaving as he watched the finger, almost as sick as Big Daddy's cock, before, slip inside and make his cock bulge. And it felt… Great. Almost as great as breathing his stench.

“Maybe. Or maybe not. Maybe you were just a good boy underneath that corruption. Or a nasty cunt. What were you? A brat… Or a good boy?"

As Big Daddy said that, he lifted one arm. Obscenely, without any further indication. But the context was everything. And taken by the smell that had sedated him a moment before, it didn't take long for the Cobra to lean forward, to have his face pushed against the bushy pit. Here, the sweat had coalesced and soaked every strand, making them stick to the softer red coat below. And as soon as the Cobra pressed his face against it, the strands stuck to his face, to his lips, to his tongue as he licked the intense salty sweat out of Big Daddy's armpits.

“I… Don't want to go to prison," said the Cobra, ashamed and yet already addicted to that Boar's body. He drank that poison, that liquid addiction that etched everything he was to desire on his tongue. He even had his hands going over Big Daddy's stronger neck, holding onto it as if he would drown otherwise.

“You want to be a good boy for Big Daddy, then?"

The words were low, suave. And echoing through the Cobra's earholes and body while the Boar spoke. His fingers were still inside the Cobra's cock, fingering it like any cunt. Like he owned it. And in a way, Big Daddy owned the criminal.

He owned that poor bastard the moment the Cobra nodded and sighed against the armpit, unable to pry himself free from that toxic influence. One he desired it as much as before, wanting it no different than wanting to breathe fresh oxygen.

“Good. Very good," cooed the Boar as he pulled his fingers free, making the Cobra almost yelp from the emptiness that overtook him, once more. “Let me finish this, then."

The Cobra didn't get it, but as he was pulled free, forced to have his muzzle away from the wondrous and sweaty pit, he was pulled on his feet by the massive Boar, who was now two more heads taller. Even walking around him made the Cobra feel puny, more so with that enormous hand gripping his shoulder and forcing him to tag along.

For what?

The realization came as the Boar approached the two Therin in the Cobra's gang. They met once while raiding a Hollow and decided to form a gang. However, they had no binds, no attachments. Not even after years of fighting together. Not anymore, as the Cobra could only feel… Attachment for the massive Boar.

The massive Boar, who handled the nearby Rooster, making the helmeted criminal turn and land on his back.

It didn't take long for the Boar to redo the ropes, to attach the Rooster until he was in the same position as the Cobra before… naked, exposed, his cock free.

Again, Big Daddy was playing with the Rooster's cock, stroking it while the Rooster was out cold. And for a moment, the Criminal was unsure what to do… Until a finger pointed the cum-covered cock and the funky-smelling groin.

“Clean Big Daddy's cock. I want to be ready when your friend wakes up."

Order.

“Of course, Daddy."

“Good boy."

The Cobra bent over and crawled to the cock, rubbing his nose against the flesh while slurping on the musky and sticky cum. He licked it, cleaned it off, and removed any traces… All so the Boar's cock would be ready to claim another victim.

Another good boy for Big Daddy to consume and grow from.

Another one who couldn't live without getting their dose of the Biker's musk.

Another one impotent musk-high slut for the Boar to fuck, gifting them his pits and pecs.

He might be nastiest cunt in the Outer Ring… But he was their air, their oxygen, their Big Daddy.