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Holy shit. I didn't believe in fate, but fuck me if this wasn't the kind of thing that'd get me to start. I leaned on the counter in front of me, one webbed paw up to my muzzle as I struggled to keep my ruddertail from lashing around in excitement or anxiety or just sheer energy.

I had to talk to him. Right? I couldn't just let this opportunity go, and... I mean he'd clearly seen me, I wasn't exactly fucking subtle no matter what way you cut it. I was a fairly big, somewhat chubby otter with at least a passable sense of fashion, but that wasn't the most remarkable feature on me. No, that would go to the ruiner of my love life, the lightning rod that gave me five minutes of fame everywhere I went: my package.

Hypers were a thing of course, but otters especially were already known for being a horny species so giving random fuckers any more excuse to jeer at me wasn't pleasant. And we weren't exactly common, so no big social rights movement for us, even if we'd gotten a few disability law amendments recently. Wasn't much that one could do but play the paw they're dealt though, so I got by. Custom underwear (very taxing on a retail salary), crotchless jeans, big baggy sweaters to smooth out the sudden transition from hips to extra sausage. Couldn't do much for the basketballs that hung beneath, of course, so I usually only went out when it was darker.

Today I was in a coffee shop waiting for a rare meeting with a semi-local friend, who'd remembered to invite me to see a new movie. Great opportunity to be mostly in the dark... maybe even get some sneaky paws from the frisky-yet-shy deer.

That all was so far from my mind now as I struggled not to get hard in this very public place with at least a dozen other animals around. How the fuck was he just... hanging out like that?? Literally??

"Jaimie?" one of the baristas called and my paws scrambled as I tried to pretend I hadn't just been having a moment on their counter. Coffee with peppermint flavor. Fuck the holidays and all their stress, but at least I could take advantage of the good parts of the seasonal junk.

A paw went up to adjust my beanie and flick a lock of hair into a better position, the other went to properly close my messenger bag and tear an ugly clump of fur out of its velcro strip. I didn't know if he was the type to care, and I didn't even know what my goal here was, but if I was gonna take the dive I may as well look my best while doing it.

Scanning the front door and the sidewalk outside to make sure Dalton wasn't here to grab me, I stepped over towards the otter who'd thrown me for a fucking loop so hard. And was threatening to make me so hard, as well.

Whoever he was, he looked kind of wild. Definitely eye-catching... In multiple ways. If I'd seen him before I'm sure I would have remembered. A river otter of some different kind from me, a fiery-orange mohawk stuck up from his head and arced smoothly back and down his neck, making a swoop that reminded me somehow of a lion's mane if you took like a vertical slice of it. He seemed a bit crunched up in the chair, significantly taller than an ordinary otter.

A crimson jacket was... literally all he was wearing, aside from his tinted glasses. There was some kind of leather strap across his chest beneath but I couldn't really see it to know if it was a bag or something.

And then below the waist, nothing.

In a coffee shop. In public.

How had nobody had kicked him out yet? Or at least awkwardly explained to him that he needed to cover up. It was impossible to miss the enormous black cock hanging low between his paws, and the enormous tawny balls overflowing the edge of his seat with a fur tuft barely brushing the ground. That python had to be like two and a half feet soft, with girth even more thigh-wedging than mine. Even the table couldn't hope to cover him up, especially since his pants had apparently not shown up to work today.

I was in front of him now but my muzzle felt dry, my tongue stuck to my fangs. "Hey," was all I could manage, tailtip smacking against the ground in agitation.

He looked up from his phone, and there it was: the inevitable flick of the eyes, his emerald irises catching just a moment on the swell of my hog bulging out the black fabric of my underwear pouch. While most would gape or recoil in awe, his reddish eyebrows just quirked up in pleased curiosity, coming up to meet my awkward stare with a smirk.

"Hey," he said back. A pleasing tenor, and I caught a flash of the inside of his maw: his tongue and gums were as dark as his cock. I didn't think I'd ever heard of an otter who had that, though clearly both of us had some kind of genetic fuckery going on. "Have we met?" he followed up.

I blinked, unsure why he'd ask. "Uh... N-no. I don't think so anyway. Um." My eyes flicked down to his very exposed package, hoping that some of the hundreds of questions I had would show in my eyes while I fidgeted in place.

His smile grew a bit wider on his mischievous muzzle, purposely avoiding my obvious questions. "I'm Asrael, then. Want to sit?" He gestured to the seat opposite him and my cock lurched at the thought, forcing me to hold back a groan.

"Nnnnnh, nnnn nope I'm good thank you," words hurriedly tumbling out as I desperately restrained myself.

He rested his orange-tufted chin on a paw and I saw hints of his teeth in a grin, "You sure? You look like you could take a load off." Just enough emphasis on load to tease me. Fuuuuuck he was playing with me, and that just made all this worse. Whatever lawmaker had subsidized hyper condoms was gonna get a thank-you note, I was already making a water balloon of the one I was wearing.

"Hey Jaimie," someone touched my shoulder. I couldn't help it, I squeaked and recoiled from the deer standing behind me, with an embarrassingly pendulous sway.

Dalton pulled back, paws up. "Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you. I was calling for you, but you didn't notice."

I was in gridlock now, trying to figure out how to react. I mean, this was Dalton and he didn't treat me weird because of my assets, but talking to this... even bigger otter, fully nude, what was he gonna think??

Dalton looked over at Asrael and the gridlock filled with honking horns. Somehow he hadn't noticed yet, but that wasn't gonna last long. "Oh, sorry if I interrupted something. We have a movie to get to," he explained, gesturing between himself and me.

"Oh, nice, which one?" Asrael got up. Oh gods he got up. He was more muscled than he looked, his cock slapped below his knees, audibly, and the world was receded behind a thick, misty pane of glass. Backup systems kicked in, I could not pay attention to him or else I'd be full flagpole otter, getting a public indecency charge, fuck fuck fuck.

Asrael and Dalton said something to each other. What was happening? The backup systems had taken over, I was saying something too but it was hard to make out from behind the glass. I gave Asrael my phone for some reason, and he fiddled with it and then gave it back. I was being a normal otter, waving in a friendly normal manner, as we left.

The mist cleared, slowly leaving a tingle of confusion as I got some distance from the danger. We were out of the coffee shop and Asrael had sat back down, smirk resting on his face as he returned to whatever he'd been doing. Why hadn't anything happened...?

A couple steps down the sidewalk Dalton looked back at me with an exasperated look, "Hey uh, Jay? You're kinda..."

I followed his digit down and squeaked, promptly angling myself into a corner where nobody could see my straining half-chub. This, at least, was normal and manageable... And I appreciated the break either way. Normally I'd make some kind of self-deprecating joke here like I knew Dalton liked, but I didn't have the energy. I pretended to be intently checking my phone as a social excuse, taking long and slow breaths to bring myself back to the moment. In more ways than one.

The stag stood nearby, politely shielding me with his body while not getting too close, for both social and antler reasons.

Dalton murmured after a few seconds, a dreamy look in his eyes, "Mmm, not that I blame you. He was so tall... And kinda beefy! Maybe I could get his number from you," he trailed off. He didn't have the same obvious tell that I did, but I knew him well enough to know how much he was fantasizing. Though as I watched him, something seemed off.

Eyebrow raised, I studied his expression. Maybe lewd, but not the kind I'd expect? Certainly not the blushy mess he could get when thinking about massive dicks. So... "That's all?" I asked.

"Well. I mean his hair is a bit crazy but it's neat. Kind of a raver thing, or uh, at least probably moreso that than 'punk'? Since he wasn't wearing a shirt. I dunno if that's my scene but you can tell me what he's like."

Confusion was evident on my face, and Dalton tipped his muzzle in defensively. "What?"

I glanced down at my package. Soft again, though I'd probably have to empty out the fucking condom in the theater bathroom before everyone could hear it sloshing.

"... You're a horny bitch," I tried to play it off.

He put a paw to his chest dramatically and pitched his voice up, "Oh! You're one to talk. Even with otter space I doubt that guy could handle getting s_plit open_." He gave me a coy look. Of course he was talking about my cock, though we both knew that cock size didn't strictly equal libido... in my case the formula just happened to be true was all.

And yet, he hadn't made a joke about me getting railed in return. There was only one conclusion I could reach... Was I the only one who saw Asrael's buck-ass nudity? What the Twilight-Zone-ass shit was happening?

***

Dalton nudged me, pulling me out of my own head.

"Want to go in on a large popcorn?" he offered.

I shook my head and blinked, having been lost in thoughts of another otter. It took me a moment to piece together the last few things that had been said. Popcorn? Well... I had to admit, it was the whole moviegoing experience after all. A few trans fats wouldn't kill me. And besides, it was a good opportunity to poke at the kind of freak Dalton was.

"Sure, though uh... You sure you're not just trying to have a good reason to put your paw in my lap?" I stuck just a hint of my tongue out at him.

The soft insides of his teardrop ears turned bright pink, "N-nooooo. I mean... I, I wanted to... do that anyway."

"Got plenty of 'butter' for us to put on it too," I murmured to him.

He stifled a giggle, turning it into a more socially-acceptably-masculine chuckle. "Come oooon."

The deer was making it too easy. Though before I made the very obvious "cum" joke, I was reminded that I hadn't emptied out my condom. Definitely couldn't risk overflowing if we were gonna fool around. I weighed the possibility of straight-up offering it to Dalton as a 'refreshment'... but we weren't quite that level of fuckbuddies yet. Maybe in another few outings, gods knew I wasn't ever gonna run out of my supply.

I ran my tongue against my fangs, "Could you get that? I'll split the cost later of course, but I need to make a pit stop."

He nodded, though he hesitated for a moment. Maybe he was trying to think of a joke to make... Or a flirt to add... Maybe he came to the same conclusion I did, that we weren't quite there yet to be making too many hyper jokes. The unsteady waters were not a place either of us enjoyed being, though it was nice to know he wanted more. "Yeah don't worry about it. Line's a bit long anyway so you have time."

Now that I was more in the present, I could feel the slosh against my balls, the weighty bag full of precum. Fuck I'd just been lugging it around because of that otter...

Ducking into a stall, I started sliding my underwear pouch down ever so gently to not wake the beast. My shaft was sensitive as always, making me groan under my breath. Musk immediately hit my snout, something I was very well used to but might spread the boner plague to anyone else in the bathroom. Sorry, boys.

"Nngh," I huffed as quietly as I could, sliding the thick rubber sleeve off my eighteen-inch soft sausage. It wasn't lubricated so that it would stay on well throughout the day, though that did make the process all the more excruciating. Also meant that I really could just offer it to Dalton to drink-- no, bad thoughts. Bad time to get hard. A foreboding throb ran through my cock, pumping up several inches of extra length and girth already.

I sighed and just ignored the excitable animal between my legs. That was the best thing to do. Just do normal boring menial stuff, like emptying this gallon of precum into the toilet.

My pocket buzzed, and I reminded myself I was gonna have to turn that off for the movie. Empty condom slung over my shoulder like a pillowcase, I checked it and my whiskers stood straight out in confusion. There was a text from Asrael. How did— oh. That must have happened when I deliriously gave him my phone.

Gods damn it. I mean... No, I wanted to get his number anyway but... Fuck this was a bad time.

I noticed that he'd sent himself a keysmash text from my phone to get my number. Which, honestly, if I didn't know better I might have thought I had actually sent that. Pretty accurate representation of my embarrassing trainwreck of thoughts about him.

The new text read, "Hey, just figured I'd open up the conversation. Hope Dark Rail 2 is a good one, I haven't seen it myself."

Huh, he even italicized it. I didn't think that was a thing animals actually did.

"not expecting oscar gold but it should be a fun time anyway, you know how it is", I sent.

I flipped the phone into Do Not Disturb, before I forgot. And then given the first gap in attention, my stupid brain immediately went 'I wonder how big he is when he's hard'.

Fuck. I mean, hard to blame me for wondering, right. I hadn't really unpacked that whole experience anyway, and for hypers it was practically normal data like height and eye color.

And he was tall... With that thing he was hauling... fuck, he looked like he'd be blocking traffic if he got hard at a stoplight. I just wasn't used to dealing with... Any hypers other than myself, let alone ones bigger than me. And those balls... I knew I could fill a bathtub and then some, but—

Throb.

You'd think with such an endowment, I'd notice when I was getting hard. My stupid three-foot hair-trigger cock stood proudly in front of my muzzle, happy to have ruined my plans. At least I hadn't ripped my underwear again...

But now I had to send The Text. The one that every friend-of-a-hyper got used to seeing. Not doing my demographic any favors.

Flicking over to Dalton's conversation I sent, "hey I'll be a sec, will catch up".

He sent back a few seconds later, "Gotcha. I'll be in the back row!" Yeah, he knew.

I glared at my pillar of ottermeat, trying to will it into submission with nasty looks alone. It did not relent.

***

The trailers were just finishing up by the time I made it into the theater. Given what I knew was waiting for me, I'd had to take the edge off somehow; I couldn't just saunter in all spring-loaded for Dalton to immediately set me off like a cock-in-the-box. So I'd blown as minor of a load as I could manage into the condom, then laboriously emptied it into the toilet through multiple flushes. Seemed like I was lucky enough to be alone... Or at least, anyone else in there was too preoccupied jacking off from the heavy effects of my musk to bother me.

Anyway, freshened up and only a little bulgier than usual, I plopped down into the seat next to Dalton as some insufferable "adult comedy" trailer finished up and the "set your phones to silent" bumper took its place. He offered the popcorn bucket and I shifted it into my lap.

The movie itself was forgettable, of course. The first Dark Rail had been about a vampire-hunting husky, who was actually a werewolf. Or... wait, was he a vampire too? I didn't remember. Maybe he was both and that's why he was The Chosen One? Whatever. The sequel seemed to be about his daughter who was all of that and also a demon somehow. Maybe that's why they'd gotten a red husky to play his daughter, cause otherwise the resemblance was terrible.

Big dramatic title card, drone shot zooming in on Chicago... then the main character monologued broodingly while standing on a building in Vancouver. Was it really that much more expensive to shoot here?

Nonsense action scenes came and went. It didn't take long for Dalton to start "missing" the bucket when he went for a pawful. I glanced back and forth despite knowing that we were the only animals in the back row... and not many had shown up for this needless sequel anyway. But I couldn't help being nervous anyway!

By the way his ears were flicking, he was a little on edge too. Hard not to be when you were fooling around in public... unlike another otter who I refused to think about too much. It was mercifully dark back here, but my fur still prickled when his paw grazed my belly behind the bucket... slid lower, crossed the divide of my pants button... and then finally squeezed two digits at the base of my shaft.

Throb, it responded eagerly. Didn't matter how many times I blew, it'd still be eager.

His digits rose along with the swell of my shaft and I heard just a little squeak from him. It was no secret how much he wanted it... Not to me at least, even if we were gonna keep it from the rest of the world.

The popcorn bucket buoyed up in my lap with another heavy pulse and I clamped my paws around it, tail vibrating anxiously as I tried to keep it steady. We weren't going to leave messes of any kind back here. Dalton looked back and forth just like I had, and then silently offered to take the bucket. I passed it over and immediately felt his eyes latch onto the increasingly bulging mound of my shaft. Gods but he was hungry today, and I couldn't blame him. My little burst in the bathroom was not gonna sate these heavy-hanging balls.

The moment had been disrupted, but not for long. He didn't last another few minutes of flashy swords and explosions before his paw returned. Trailing lower, blunt hoof-tipped digits meshing with the curly fluff of my pubic fur, teasing at the edge of my underwear pouch. I could barely see him adjusting something behind the bucket.

Muzzle open, panting, he whispered to me in a breathy moan, "Nnh, Jaimie."

Maybe my musk was hitting him harder than I thought it would, I was surprised he was so worked up. Hopefully I wasn't dosing the entire theater...

"What?" I returned in the same timbre.

He gave me a lascivious maw-open grin, eyes half-lidded in lust. Paw retracted, he brushed aside half of his jacket to show off the unmistakable gleam of a long, tapered, slick deercock jutting eleven inches up from his lap, barely hidden between the popcorn bucket and the other side of his jacket.

An excited squeak strangled and died in my muzzle as I clamped shut, I was sure my ears would be bright red if we had any light to see. I gulped down a mawful of drool, I wanted my tongue on him... Fuck I wanted to do anything with that cock right now but after years of careful suppression, well-worn habits snapped my head in the other direction so I couldn't see his maleness.

My cock fully roused, stretched its cage and fought to be free. My claws bit into the armrests as I shivered and held my ground, precariously steadfast against the tide rising in my groin. This was going to work. I knew it would if I held, and I wasn't going to flood this entire damned row of seats... With how I felt, it'd probably be several rows if I let my footing slip now.

I heard Dalton's breath coming even faster now as he watched my shaft grow, rapidly surpassing the seat-back in front of me. I knew nobody was looking. Hell I could probably have let my man-sized erection use the seat between us and not a soul would have noticed. That didn't matter to the daggers of anxiety, of fear, of shame stabbing at every bit of me.

None of this was a first time for me, and I knew how to take the daggers in some kind of stride even if it was a bit of a stumble. "P-put that away, hornball!" I whispered into my cupped paw, keeping myself from temptation while making sure he could hear. Vantablack pot here calling the kettle black, but it was a playful enough thing to say.

And to be fair, I was right. We hadn't planned at all on things going this far, least of all in public. Not that I didn't find the idea fun, but... y'know, in kind of a fantasy way? A good few pages of consequence-free smut was much better to fap to than another black mark for indecency.

But when I finally looked back at him, I just felt bad. I'd probably riled him up, I was the hair-trigger problem here, and he'd gotten the courage to share that risk with me. His face was a mix of lingering lust, a tiny bit of confusion, and a dollop of shame. Those soft teardrops were pinned back against his head, jacket ineffectually zipped up around his obvious boner. How to make sure he didn't feel like I was rejecting him...?

"L-later. Okay? Gods I really want to... Obviously..." I gestured at the titan still threatening to rise between my legs, definitely cresting the seat in front of me... But that was a margin of error I was comfortable with in the gloom of the theater.

"Sorry Jaimie... Fffhh, fuck I just want it..." He sounded forlorn, knowing we couldn't finish our little tryst here. Rare for him to swear so I knew he was serious too.

"... Me too."

We sat back and watched in silence as the duo of trenchcoated huskies took down a pack of assassin-vampires with seemingly unlimited bullets. After that I lost interest again, mind wandering while I kept waiting for my stupid second head to calm down.

Not for the first time, I thought of what life would be like if I was just well-hung, instead of hyper. I'd show off my... let's say thirteen-inch ottercock, and he'd dive down into my lap while I held his antlers. Or I'd be able to kneel between his legs, getting my muzzle on him. The fantasy was far enough from reality that it didn't really make my erection any worse.

Though now, for the first time that I could remember at least, a new fantasy came in: what would life be like if I just didn't have to worry about it? What if I could let my pillar free, wherever I wanted? In the theater, behind the cash register, stocking the shelves, out on the sidewalk... In a coffee shop?

I jolted in my seat as suddenly deep muscles clenched, the pillar lurched upwards, spurting hard into an obviously swelling balloon at my tip. The deer stared with renewed awe, paw jerking not-so-subtly under his jacket.

Yeah, no. I had to talk to Asrael. If I hadn't been hallucinating or the whole shop hadn't been pranking me... What exactly had been going on?

***

The table jolted under my paws, loose brackets letting Asrael seesaw me out of the void. He sat down across from me, tail curled in the diner-style seat. I blinked up at the fiery otter as I tried to pull myself back to the present moment.

I'd been going in circles a little bit while I waited, ruminating on what even to say. I'd asked for the brunch date, but I didn't exactly have a plan when it came to confronting the truly-unknown like this. So, you know. A little anxiety spiral, as a treat.

"Hh—" I swirled my tongue around and gulped to irrigate my suddenly dry maw, "Hey."

"Hey Jaimie. Thanks for getting a seat." He flicked his head back to adjust his mohawk and waved a paw at the laminated menu, "I've been here a few times, so I already know what I want."

"Cool. Uhm. I didn't decide yet, but do you have any like, recommendations?" I hadn't looked at the menu at all yet, actually. I glanced over it to see a surprising amount of Asian fusion for how much the place looked like just an eggs-and-bacon diner.

He scanned the selection, deep-green eyes roaming across it. "Yeah, if you're good with meat, I like the omuyaki and sausage. It's kind of a savory dish all over, teriyaki meat and rice under an omelette."

My prey-tuned eyes snapped right onto an unexpected motion: his water glass had just budged. He hadn't touched it... At least I thought not? Maybe he had pushed his menu up against it and I didn't notice? I stared at it for a moment, watching ripples reverberate along its surface.

... Whatever. Letting that strange occurrence go, I returned to the socially-required task of food. His suggestion sounded like a fair bit of calories, but I wasn't opposed to splitting it with a takeout box. "I'll try that then." I could tell I was being reserved. Maybe even visibly nervous, but there was a bit of an— erk.

An elephant in the room, which had just slapped against my shin as Asrael shifted his tail around into a better position. Some part of me, probably the part bulging harder between my legs, regretted not having been aware enough to watch him saunter his way in through the door just for the eye candy. Another part was very adamant that such indulgence was The Road to Darkness.

He smiled at me, seemingly without any hint of irony or sarcasm, "Sorry. You know how it is."

"Ahhh. Uh, huh. Heh." Was he giving me an opening to talk about it? He had to know what he was doing, why we were here. "I actually do not, um, not for that specific bit. So..."

My hesitation held for a moment longer than I wanted, and I was immensely thankful that Asrael just watched me, politely allowing me to finish my thought. Now if only I could actually do that.

"I... don't really know what to say here, but you were... Back at the coffee shop, I mean... And here— " My paws splayed outwards in frustrated explanation, not knowing how to actually address the topic. Magic? Reality bending? Was The Artist about to show up with a giant pencil and erase someone's face for creepy-comedic effect?

And of course as if I had baited fate itself, a server padded in. He was a smart-looking red panda in a sweater vest with slicked back hair. He flicked his notepad, flipping a pencil between his digits.

"Hey there, my name's Jordan. Can I get you started with—"

Asrael locked his eyes to the panda's with a paw raised and said simply, "Pause."

And he stopped. Not like he'd gotten stuck in time or something, but almost like a sleepy stage actor commanded to freeze. Jordan's muzzle hung open mid-phoneme as he swayed subtly in place, eyes unfocused and glassy, paw sagging against his notepad.

The otter's attention returned to me with a bit of a smirk on his lips. "Go ahead and finish your thought."

I wasn't sure what to say. Somehow seeing an actual display of his power didn't surprise me nearly as much as I thought it would. "Uh... Yeah, I mean, that pretty much." I gestured to the server, half-expecting him to start drooling.

"Mmhm. That, and you're wanting to know how I walk around without any pants."

I nodded, grateful that he'd saved me the effort of trying to phrase that. My fantasy from yesterday was still vividly in mind, casually lounging in a theater seat while my cock loomed in front of me.

He almost seemed to know that I was thinking something lewd, and at this point I wouldn't have been surprised. His smile spread, eyebrows raised in a suggestive manner.

"Okay. You still want the food, or?"

I looked away in a bit of shame, "A-actually I'm pretty sure at this rate, I'm gonna end up flipping the table."

We both knew that I didn't mean the wrathful kind of flip.

He nodded, and looked at our server again. "Jordan, you don't see or remember anything happening in this wing while we're here. You don't need to serve us. Go tell the others and shut the doors when you leave."

The red panda jolted upright and inhaled sharply, as if he'd just awoken suddenly. I could have sworn I caught a tiny green glint in his eyes, as if Asrael's own were reflected there. "Yes. Come again soon!" he said, as if we were just about to leave. Then, he padded back to the main part of the building and casually closed the double-doors behind him.

I'd purposefully chosen a seat that was in an unpopulated offshoot of the building, but I didn't realize we were going to get the VIP treatment. The sound dampening was actually rather good, giving me an eerie liminal feeling like we weren't supposed to be here. Also... Now I was in here alone, with an unknown entity.

Said creature turned back to me with a pleasant smile. "So. No need to be cagey about it, nobody can hear us."

I took a moment to formulate my next question, "So, what was that... Categorically. Magic?"

He grinned, as if amused by the question. "Would you believe me if I said yes?" He held up a paw, pointing down at his water and twirling his digit, making it stir itself. My eyebrows went up a little despite having just seen a feat much more intimidating: seemingly total control over another animal. The tonal whiplash between dangerous fey and party-trick prestidigitator was a little intense.

"But no. It's not magic." He turned his paw over as if to break the trick, but the water kept stirring. And then, something odd happened. A swirly blob formed over top of the water... Something brown and red. It didn't quite mesh with my vision right, making me blink and rub at my eyes as if I'd gotten something in them. When I opened them again he was stirring the water himself, holding the straw in his paw... While his other paw was still in the same position above it.

I blinked a few times. No it was still there. I took an inventory of his paws to make sure I wasn't being fooled. Nope that was three of them. Another arm came up from the other side of the booth, bringing him to two on each side. Okay, sure. Why not.

A trainwreck of a sentence poured out of my maw, "So if this isn't magic, am I about to get shown some technology indistinguishable from it?"

He chuckled, "Not that either, if you can believe it."

"Grow a second head and I'll believe anything."

A shrug came, a peculiar four-shouldered shrug where his two sets of shoulders rose and fell a little out of sync with each other, "Actually a second head, specifically, is something that I just can't do to myself! Just doesn't work with me. I can do you one better though."

The strange otter leaned a little onto the table, two elbows coming to rest there while he opened his dark-fleshed maw. I leaned a little backwards, instincts unsure if he was about to eat me whole.

Yet, something altogether different happened. He stuck his ebony tongue out and in the same motion it swelled thicker, pressing out between his fangs and growing— jutting, I realized— in a way that was very un-tongue-like. A little "o" appeared on my muzzle as I began to comprehend what I was seeing.

It stuck out from his lips, standing with an extremely familiar kind of pride, growing longer and thicker and eventually coming to a rest ten inches out from its home, dangerously close to my own muzzle. His tongue was a cock, black and thick and for some reason canine-shaped with a pointy spade-tip looking at me, leaking musky-clear fluids.

A WHUMP resounded from the table, rattling the glasses and silverware. My cock had slammed into full overdrive, spring-loaded by the force of his presence, his musk, his pure aura of horny. Not just for another hyper, but one who clearly had domain over all things phallic.

"Seems like you like it," Asrael said, startingly clearly. His lips moved in unfamiliar ways, conjuring rather good approximations of sounds through clever movements of palate and jaw around his rigid cocktongue.

"W-what gave you that impression?" I stuttered out, groaning from the swelling pressure of my cock against faux-wood.

His "s" sounds were a little soft, but he'd clearly had a lot of practice talking with a knot bulging his cheeks out and wedging his muzzle open. "Selective perception filter, is the answer. Hypers like yourself can see my cocks. Everyone else simply looks away, fills in the gaps."

Well that explained quite a lot. His casual nudity, and with a little tweaking to those parameters I assumed it explained the arms that appeared out of nowhere... But it didn't explain some other things. So I had to figure that it was just one trick in his toolkit. I struggled to put together some other theories with the otter's phallic countenance filling my field of view, musk-laden precum drooling from that delicious tip. Dear gods I wanted it in my maw, wanted my tongue around it, but the idea—

"You want a taste, huh?" I was a mess, so whether he was psychic or not I doubted he'd have a hard time reading that off me.

"Fuck yeah I do," I panted. Two hypers, alone? Fuck holding back. Fuck the rules of anyone but ourselves. If I had the favor of whatever demigod was in front of me, I was going to milk it. Literally.

Asrael waved a paw and suddenly the table jumped out of our way, letting my cock spring upwards in relief. The wall had simply released the nails that held the table there to let it glide bizarrely along the floor, held up on its single pole like a little figure skater. It bumped up against the tables on the other side and stopped, still bolted to the floor as if it had always been there. Not a drop had been spilled.

This threw a wrench into some of my theories, but the "logic" part of my brain was rapidly getting pummeled into submission between the tide of lust and the increasingly unbelievable things I was witnessing. Logic was one of those rules that weren't ours, it seemed.

It was hard to realize before with a table in the way, but gods he was a big guy. He had to be well over seven feet tall with how easily he overflowed the bench seat, sprawling along it like it was his throne. With one footpaw resting up on the seat to let his fucking huge cocks— cocks? Plural? I didn't know when that had happened, but now two impressive spires rose startlingly high up, the tips reaching up above his head! The shafts were thicker than his already beefy thighs, godly pillars leaking down onto a doubled-up set of lusciously-furred balls, each with a bit of extra fluff to give them that ballhawk look. Even through the haze I could tell that his equipment was larger than before somehow, and fuck if that didn't get me going even more.

The only thing running through my head was the absolute need to pay my respects at his temple to otterhood. The fairground-tent I was pitching strained against its prison, and his eyes locked onto its cries for help.

Before I had the chance to move he was coming towards me. Even beyond his height and all those paws and those cocks, he wielded them with a practiced swagger that had my knees weak. His cocktongue pulsed as he loomed over and leered down at me: the latest catch in his net. Lines of precum spattered down onto my shirt, already excited. Clearly he was enjoying the view, and it was more than a little gratifying to be the object of such an absurdly horny creature's affection.

A paw wrapped around my straining tip and my claws dug furrows into the cheap vinyl seat, pleasure radiating through me while I wriggled and squeaked, tongue hanging out of my maw.

"This poor thing deserves some freedom," he mused, and so it was. The black fabric prison cleanly split into two around my cockhead, falling away without so much as a snap or tear. My shaft stood in front of me in all its insistent length and pulsing girth, reaching just past my chin. I had always been a leaky faucet but now I was outdoing myself, oozing pints of clear pre into the webs between his digits while he gently squeezed and kneaded, amused by the puddle I was already creating on the floor.

A big footpaw came up onto the seat and his tail curled around my leg, fully ensnaring me he leaned his fire-crested head down towards me. His presence magnified even more as if he was twice his already-imposing size, surrounding every bit of my perception without even trying. Everywhere I looked was otter.Those enormous shafts pressed against mine and my hips pressed back without so much as a thought, electric pleasure jumping between us. My paws came up to grip at his jacket, begging him for more. Between the two of us it felt like we were radiating enough heat to rival a nuclear reactor.

He tilted his chin down and with it came the ebony shaft standing hard from his maw. I leaned to meet it, tilting my head in a lewd cross between a kiss and a blowjob. Gods if it didn't feel so perfect, the heated, savory tang of his tongue sliding into my muzzle, grinding against my tongue, pulsing and filling my maw and then our whiskers met, spiking quivery shudders from my tailtip to my ears. Fuck this was amazing.

My paw automatically came up to his muzzle, cupping and keeping him there while I took him the whole ten inches deep and more, meshing our lips, working our jaws, moaning as I got deep enough to curl my tongue around the intrusively thick knot taking up so much space in his muzzle, twisting and turning my head, pulling back and then sliding him all the way back in once more. He hooked an upper arm around my neck to keep me close, his eyes like verdant jewels filling me with infectious warmth.

Some dim part of my brain supposed, while I started to bob my head and really suck him off, that overblown sexuality was already something I was used to as a hyper. But this, the intimacy? That was rare. I couldn't remember the last time I'd gotten whisker-deep in a kiss like this, wrapped my tongue around another...

One of his paws slid along the underside of my shaft, building a slick rhythm along a good eighteen inches of it while I poured pre— and gods did I pour. I was even spurting it now, loudly splattering against the vinyl of his seat and the next one over too.

I experimented, touching around his muzzle gingerly. He churred and twitched when I nudged between his molars to get behind his knot, and he really started groaning when I pressed my knuckles into the soft flesh underneath his jaw, filled with so much more firm pulsing flesh than an ordinary animal. By the way his eyes were fluttering and his tail was thrashing, there might have even been something like a prostate in there.

A pleasured growl resounded in his throat and he pressed himself against me, overflowing the seat with the sheer amount of otter in it. Those enormous ebony towers overwhelmed me, sandwiching my own oversized member between far too much ottermeat. Pressing his two lower paws into the seat behind me, another paw cupped my maw to point it straight up, the last paw free to roam and spark even more pleasure along my nipples, my sides, my balls, wherever he pleased.

Despite being a more "normal" size, his cocktongue was doing a lot more than any normal ten-incher I'd had the pleasure of servicing. It just wouldn't stop firing, the muscles and glands underneath clenching, every shot of heated, thick pre making it buck up against my palate, canid tip bulging with each maw-filling blast. Though I was doing my best to gulp as much of it as I could, it still splashed back from between my lips to paint his orange-tufted chin. Every gulp just made us burn brighter together, the many feet of ottershaft between us throbbing harder and harder. Fuck, I was getting near my peak and we practically hadn't even done anything yet.

But so much was going on that I was nearly overloaded, every point of my body prickling with fire and lust, brain crowded by my own screaming need for sex and raving for every drop of Asrael's doubled-up hypersexuality all over me, filling my muzzle as he bobbed and kissed me from above, hips steadily thrusting our poles against each other, spraying all over each other and everywhere nearby.

Finally he gripped around my head as his peak hit, able to cover a terrifying amount of my skull with that massive paw, clinging to me while his tongue pulsed once, twice, then unloaded a thick torrent of otterseed into me! I would have been moaning up a whorish storm if I'd been able to use my throat, but for now that whole domain was his and I knew it. It wasn't a moment later that burning pleasure dug its claws into me, sharp tingles cascading across my balls as their weight tugged up hard and I felt myself pumping, rutting back against him and firing endlessly. I was probably making a Total Fucking Mess of the place but my usual shame, the reaction of apologizing for my nature, couldn't take root in the savage embrace of this otter, my kindred in the depths of depravity.

We both squirmed and thrust and gripped at each other for six shots, ten shots, twenty, far longer than any normal animals could manage, making me gulp down what had to be a gallon of his cum. No fucking way I'd turn him down though; if this could be every lunch date for the rest of my life I'd die a happy slut of an otter. And this was just his tongue.

It took far longer than I was used to for us to descend from the peaks of Mount Fucking Olympus. My head flopped back with a splat, I moaned and blinked a few times, hazily reorienting myself. Asrael was still on top of me, leaning against me in a satisfied afterglow— though I was very aware of his still viciously hard double-cocks. It took a moment for the seed-slathered gears in my brain to turn: he hadn't cum. I mean his tongue did, but his... main cocks...? Whatever. Did that mean there was going to be a round 2?

I was sure my eyes were sparkling, and he chuckled at me. "Seems like you really needed this. You're so pent up." A lower paw traced down under my balls, affectionately hefting them. Sure they were heavy, but they were nothing compared to his...

"What do you mean?"

He hiked a thumb over one of his shoulders and I peered behind him. At some point my cock had slipped out of our sandwich while I was cumming, and the load there shocked even me. The back corner of the diner had been entirely painted white, even up along the ceiling for a good few feet. The next booth hadn't fared much better. Jeez I didn't usually blow quite that hard... and I was still furiously hard too, the weight of this concrete bollard pulling at my hips as it steadily throbbed. I needed to let loose like this more often.

I let my tongue hang out with a satisfied huff, softly panting from the exertion while I let my paws roam around Asrael's chest... Chests? It was a peculiar feeling to run my thumbpad down one pec, hit the valley just under it, then instead of feeling ribs I'd be right back sliding along another pec. Like most otters his fur was lighter along his chest and belly, turning from tawny to something more like... Cream, I decided. I wasn't very good with color names. Unlike me though, none of that color made it any higher than his jaw.

A satisfied rumble resonated through him while I explored along his body and he returned the affection, petting through my wavy hair, brushing it back from my eyes and tracing his claws along my scalp in a way that made my tailtip tremble. I was expecting the post-nut exhaustion to hit any second... But the steel shaft hanging from my groin was stubbornly refusing to go away. At first I felt a little bit embarrassed, as if I was signalling that he wasn't good enough to satisfy me. That thought was stupid though, especially considering he hadn't cum at all— er, I mean... The main cannons hadn't fired yet! And really, that kind of thought was especially silly between hypers: we could probably go all day if we kept riling each other up. I just... wasn't used to being around like company.

Looking back up at him, his muzzle was closed again. I must have looked surprised, because he opened his maw again to show me his normal tongue. Well it was still black, but it wasn't dumping gallons of ottercum on me so it was relatively normal. I couldn't help but huff at my own mental comparison.

I saw his pearly-white fangs up close as he grinned, "Glad you enjoyed that. I can bring it back whenever you want. I could even give it to youuu," he teased in a singsongy voice, dragging a claw up along my chin. Shivers hit me as he left crackling tingles along his path, magic-or-whatever soaking into my flesh as he went.

Gods the mental image was hot, but I had enough trouble blending in already. Actually, wait... wasn't that why I'd even come here? Weren't we supposed to be talking about something?

"N-nnnh, hff," I tried to wrangle my tongue into talking, not throbbing, which seemed to dispel the tingles. Given the ease with which he seemed to do whatever he wanted I supposed he was being gentle with me and letting me choose. "I think... I prefer having yours, to having one myself," I managed to get out through my worked-up panting.

He gave me an affectionate smirk as he removed his digit, trailing down instead to pet along my chest. I was one of those animals who had lots of patches of fluffier darker fur, sort of like pubic fur but... All over down my chest and belly. Asrael didn't have that, so he probably found it novel.

"Oh, well I'd be glad to provide. And don't worry, I won't force anything on you that you don't want. Though you might be surprised what I can tell you do want," he chuckled. That gave me a bit of a different kind of shiver.

"So... You can read my mind or something?" My voice came out a little smaller than I'd like.

"Not unless I try, but when it comes to matters of lust, well... your body might as well be screaming them at me." He tilted his head, eyes following down my treasure trail as his paw traced, working down until he was squeezing gently around the base of my insistently hard shaft. The other paw on that side went down even further, playing with the darker tuft that trailed down from my balls.

"D-... Dhhh," I moaned. His tingly touch was making me throb hard, making it difficult to concentrate against the resurging tide. "Do you know if... if you could give me a tongue like that, could you help me... blend in like you?"

He tilted his head the other direction, and for a moment his paws were still. I worried I'd offended him somehow, even though that made no sense. I didn't know what I was dealing with though.

"I don't know. You seemed to like it as a parlor trick when I did it, and I'd be happy to do it for fun when we're together but... I get the sense you wouldn't actually want it long term."

I was confused. He seemed to know me better than he should given how little I'd actually known him, but his 'parlor trick' was literally why I came here. Maybe I ought to explain?

"I-I just... I've been different for so long, you know? It limits where I can go, it limits what I can do without blowing a hole in my pants and the nearest drywall."

I sighed, eyes avoiding his for a moment, "...It limits who I can keep as friends." His ruddy brows knit as he frowned sympathetically.

"I just... want to be able to go out in public and belong." My voice squeaked at the end. It felt strange to be pouring my heart out like this while no less than three enormous cocks were still leaking and pulsing away between us.

He tapped along my shoulder pensively, "Hmm... That's true. And I certainly know what you mean by belonging..." Whether he meant to let me hear it or not, the word held a ragged edge for him too. "But at the same time, you are who you are. For the lack of a broad set of connections, you can make a smaller set of deeper ones that know who and what you are, and choose to know you anyway."

"That... I mean that sounds nice, but..." I didn't need to regale him with my life story, but this wasn't exactly news to me.

He chuckled. "Yeah I know. Not the most useful thing to tell you. I suppose to sum it up, compromising what makes you you, isn't going to make you happy in the end. Even if the road there is harder. Maybe I could introduce you to a good few hyper and hyper-friendly folks too, and you can find somewhere you belong in there?"

That did sound pretty nice. Dalton would probably lose his mind if I could bring him along to a big-dicked meeting.

His fangs showed again as he seemed to have an idea. He slid a paw up along my straining shaft, yanking me further up out of melancholy with electric jolts of pleasure. "So why don't we get to know the real you a little more, hmmm?"

I blinked, "Wha, what do you mean?"

The otter slid a digit around the rim of my cockhead, making me shudder as a cascade of precum followed. "I mean, you've been keeping this beast caged. But you've got quite the hunger in you, Jaimie. What good would it do if I let you hide even more effectively? Instead, why don't we find out who you are when you really let loose?"

"What... For real? I—... We'd get the cops called on us—"

He stopped me by wagging one of his twenty digits. I didn't know anyone actually did that, but it was a little cute somehow. "Consequence free, on me."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Uh... I mean I'm not an expert on self-improvement, clearly... But doesn't that kind of undermine the whole thing, if I don't have to deal with the consequences of what's really there?"

Brushing off my concerns with a waving paw, he continued right in his stride, "No no, that's only if you're confronting your anima or shadow or something like that. You're in tune with those bits, this is just about seeing how much horny is really in there!"

And that was apparently that, despite the lingering anxiety I had about whatever he had in mind. The otter-creature grinned and some kind of pressure built in the air. All I could compare it to was the static charge of a tesla coil, instinctively leaning back as if to get away from it. In front of my eyes, Asrael's body seemed to come alive. The mane on his head rippled as if its substance suddenly matched its fiery color, his fur writhed without wind to flow through it. His cocks and balls seemed the most energetic of all, practically vibrating with vitality. He seemed to distort in front of me like an image through an aberrant mirror, tearing chroma and half-formed shape from his edges.

The pressure in the air swelled, pressed me back into the seat. Two of his flickering paws, crackling with green, cradled my shaft near the tip. Two went to either side of my chest in a manner that unsettlingly reminded me of a defibrillator.

Crack! All the fluorescent lights in the room shuddered as the energy released, verdant light arced through me, dancing all the way from my chest to my shaft. I flinched in expectation of pain but instead I felt a strange tug somewhere behind my diaphragm and then a sense of... heat. Warmth blossomed from my belly, spreading throughout my body and overwhelming me with need.

My shaft spat furiously at the ceiling, straining at maximum erection... no, past maximum. I groaned and panted as I throbbed hard, clenched, felt my shaft jerk and swell and thicken right in front of me, the veins bulging even more prominently as my already-improbable endowment started looking a lot closer to one of Asrael's. And yet, it wasn't getting any longer.

A surge of energy made its way to my balls, making me squirm as they too started to grow at a terrifying rate, tugging further down, heavier, fuller. I knew they held untold gallons, more than I'd ever shot. At the rate they were growing, maybe more than I could ever shoot. The sheer weight of my increasingly barrel-like shaft and heavy cannonballs pulled at my groin and all the supportive muscles and ligaments in there, forced me to moan with the pleasurable strain of it.

Something squeezed around the massive cannon at my crotch and I blinked, trying to refocus my rolling eyes. I had barely been able to pay attention to the otter that caused this, but he was looking much more like a normal creature now. Well, no. A corporeal creature at least, instead of some strange figment-given-life. He grinned down at my barrel-cock with a mix of hunger and triumph, even all four of his big paws unable to encircle it.

"I figured you'd be quite the wellspring," he churred, "Though of course, you need a little help to get it all out there..."

A twinge hit my body, feeling something like the defibrillation from earlier but less intense. And with that, something very strange tugged at my groin again. It felt like my cock was thickening further, my balls were growing again, but... not? My jaw chattered, my tongue couldn't find words as I squeaked and shuddered, and my shaft divided into three.

I gaped, eyes wide. One on top and two side-by-side below it like a triangle. Three...? Triplet shots of precum as thick as my wrist burst from them, immediately dousing the whole area with otter-musky slickness, unrelenting in my deluge.

"Now you can keep going," he grinned. As if they'd been waiting for his command my shafts started growing again, inches piling on to them at a frightening rate, passing my muzzle in a matter of seconds! Helplessly I watched them rise, thicken, throb, forcing me to squirm and moan as all three passed four feet long, then five! Asrael slid a paw up along each of them and even that nearly made me cum, twitching and writhing against the seat, digging my claws in and hearing plastic tear beneath them. So much more flesh made me so much more sensitive than I'd ever been.

My balls kept pace, heat and energy bursting from them as they tried to keep triple-pace with my shafts, filling the booth as they swelled, starting to buoy my legs up beneath me with their sheer size. With them, my lust grew and grew and grew to levels I didn't even know were possible, tearing something feral and savage out of my soul, the drive to BREED overwhelming every other thought.

By now each cock had to be something like seven feet long and much thicker than my thighs. I felt the root of those towers being pushed lower, forced deeper between my legs to make room for the impossible amount of meat I was wielding, taint thickening to support my turrets.

"Ohhhh I knew you were a tasty prospect," Asrael huffed in satisfaction. Two of his paws were working along his own shafts while the other two slid along the increasingly intimidating underbellies of my lower cocks and his tongue worked at the top. He eased me down, letting my cocks come to rest on the seat opposite me. Shockingly, even my balls were starting to support them with how overfilled they'd gotten, the furry mounds large enough to fill the booth!

I couldn't help myself, I just started thrusting. Asrael's caressing paws and tongue, the booth, my own balls sparked bliss up and down my spine, filled me with purpose. Whatever kind of creature Asrael was making me into, my priorities were being rewritten. Who cared if I couldn't even drag my junk around? Who fucking cared if I couldn't ever hope to hide myself again? By volume I was more ottercock than otter. More of me was throbbing than not. It felt like even my internal organs had changed somehow, a thickness in my lower belly that I had some inkling was a bunch of greatly enhanced glands to support my new artillery.

Though it had been moments since I'd last cum, that felt like a distant memory. I needed to, more than anything else. It didn't take long for the dam to crack and shudder and burst from the torrential force of my need. The tide welled in my balls, flooded my taint, my vision whited out as if even my brain had filled with seed. I thrust hard with a tongue-hanging howl as this new cock-otter monster came for the first time. My terrifying triplicate towers swelled, taking a comically long time to finish piping their torrents of cum to their tips as they bulged, throbbed, and then finally burst. Thick white seed gushed against the walls, the ceiling, blasted tiles every which way and probably stripped the vinyl right off the seats with the force of it!

I couldn't care less, couldn't even know enough to care how much I was destroying the room. Everything was white, my world was white, and my eyes-rolling feral humping just continued as I blasted and blasted, devoted to the singular purpose of emptying my titanic tanks and spreading my seed.

Minutes passed as I endured my peak, slaved through the blistering-hot fire of pleasure to cum, and cum, and keep cumming. Somehow Asrael lingered in my field of perception, probably from whatever he'd done to me linking us together somehow. He seemed to be enjoying himself, his cocktongue was back and he was rutting his shafts against mine, blowing a load that mere minutes ago I would have been very impressed by. Now even his excessively virile shots were washed away in the tide of my lust.

It took ages for the peak to... lessen. It was hard to say it was really over, but some semblance of awareness returned to me. I was still thrusting on autopilot, still cumming, and that overgrown primal part of me was very proud of my awesome virility. But at least now it was less like three busted fire hydrants and more like three over-pressured fountains. Asrael was slumped over top of my shafts, still humping away and enjoying himself on me, ruddertail flicking back and forth in bliss.

"Hhn... Hhhh, howw... Wwwhat fuck..." My voice felt sluggish, words were hard to string together when so much of my brain was still occupied with the primordial need to fuck.

He raised, turned to look at me with that cock-occupied maw. "Jay, mmmmh," he moaned, sliding his way up towards me. I jerked in pleasure, thrust against his movements, nearly brought to another brain-shattering peak just from that.

Asrael drew very close to me and my lips moved automatically, wanting that cocktongue in me again.

"You're doing so good. Fucking hell you've got to be the horniest otter I've seen in a while, and I've seen a mirror." He chuckled at his own joke, tongue firing precum at my grateful muzzle.

"Not done yet though. Oh no, you're not done yet. You're still so full, ott." He caressed my balls each as large as two normal animals, and I could feel that he was right. Somehow, that marathon blasting session had barely taken the edge off of the smoldering heat in there.

I realized his other two shafts were still cumming, but he practically wasn't paying attention to them at all. Just pointing them over his shoulder so casually as if that was just a thing he did. Maybe that would be all I would do too, soon. The idea of living like this... so much cock, so much pleasure, so much cum. The growing primal part of me loved it, lit a fire in me, thrilled at embodying otter-virility itself like I was some kind of totem.

I felt a pressure at my upper cocktip and on instinct I pushed forward, slipping into something very warm and tight and groaning loud. Asrael was standing in the next booth over and pressing his rear down onto my cock. Somehow, unbelievably, that was working. Fuck, logic really was out the window.

Rudder flagged high, the bizarre otter was somehow taking it, hips distended around a shaft that had to be sixteen inches in diameter or more, squeaking in bliss as he somehow worked me into his guts, all that cum just vanishing into his otterspace.

Hot, some part of me said. Breed, commanded another. Generally all of the rest of me agreed as well that I should do it. I'd always lamented how I couldn't fit into anyone, but now I was about to fuck someone for the first time with equipment five times larger and three times more numerous than I'd ever been.

So of course, I did. I planted my paws against the booth and shoved, surprisingly able to shift my junk quite a bit forward and into Asrael's heated tailhole, working another foot and a half of seemingly endless ottermeat into him. He yowled in pleasure and his cannons fired harder, as if to make up for all the seed he was somehow absorbing.

"Go for it, Jay," I heard him through the pounding pulse in my ears, "You can't hurt me, just go for it."

A strange statement that normal Jaimie would have had an infinite amount of followup questions for. This Jaimie just thrust, pushing more cock into him, needing to fuck and thrust and cum. His stomach stretched obscenely, his distended hide bulging out around the distinct shape of my enormous cockhead. Another thrust, another two feet of cock into him and the bulge just grew, stretching him out, reaching up towards his neck and head. Though he bloated up much less than I was expecting; I was cumming after all, the two lower cannons flooding the room were a testament to that. Somehow he was packing it away as quickly as I could dish it out.

None of this was possible, but it didn't matter. Lust roared, my biology howled to me, cumming was as imperative as breathing to me now. I shoved, uncaring how much of an absurd cockpuppet I made Asrael into, thrusting, pulling out and pushing in while my two lower cocks just gushed and gushed free to paint the walls and windows and ceiling, pooling seed along the floor now that started to cover my toes. And fuck all of it felt amazing, pleasure crackling from every one of the dozens of inches I now sported, every pulse of cum igniting its own feedback to push me farther, and harder, and more.

My rudder flailed for leverage and balance, my arms just gripped at my upper shaft as if to help shove my oversized cannon of a cock into Asrael's willing tail. For his part he pressed back into me, seemingly uncaring that as he neared my root the cockbulge in his stomach was practically rivalling the size of his entire body. His footpaws slid along my lower shafts, along my balls, finally I grasped at the thick fuckhandle of his tail and dragged him down, close enough that I could properly get my claws in him. Now I could really get going.

My legs felt impossibly strong as I reared up, footpaws and tail mashing against the ground for extra leverage to press him down into my two lower shafts, angling harder and harder until I'd somehow gotten him into a mating press, absurdly using my own two lower cocks as a platform to breed him, totally surrounding him in the virile temple of his own making. It was hard to read his expression through his maw-open, cocktongue-spurting bliss, but he seemed nearly... Impressed?

He clenched hard and I almost went completely insensate again. The white-hot pleasure consumed me, instincts roaring in triumph as I bred this new catch, so eager to please me with how skillfully he worked my shafts, how hungrily he took my seed. He wanted it, needed it maybe as much as I needed to breed him, and there was nothing better than an eager partner.

The ache in my balls grew as he kept milking me, pressure just growing, swelling even more, the overfull furry sacs pressing harder against my legs as somehow they grew even more. One more clench sent me tumbling over the edge again and I snarled as I hit some new kind of peak, both of the side-shafts erupting with seed even more than before, orgasm stacking with itself in inconceivable volume.

Finally Asrael's belly struggled, bloated, rounding out around the sheer shape of shaft and seed, rumbling with the impossible torrent I was gushing into him. I pumped and pumped and pumped what felt like enough seed to impregnate the entire world, and perhaps it actually was. The bliss of truly unloading replaced everything else. For those long white minutes I welcomed oblivion, letting it all wash away in the current. The stress, the unbelonging, the stark pain of existence all eroded under the ceaseless tide as I kept thrusting, kept feeding this monster of an otter with the home-grown monster of my lust.

Warmth crept up my ankles, up my calves. His stomach grew and grew, surpassing us both and pressing up into the long-suffering ceiling. I knew the room wasn't going to take much more of this but my usual anxiety couldn't take hold under the consequence-free haze. Otter bloated otter, both yowling and snarling and pumping a deluge worthy of an ark.

I wrapped his thighs in my arms and railed him back and forth on my all-encompassing shaft, gushed everything I could into him, trying my damndest to make up the gallons from a lifetime of repression. We'd grown, we were still growing, perhaps we would just never stop. And who would stop us, what could the pathetic repression of society do against our hypernatural splendor? Maybe I'd just keep cumming until we outsized the entire world!

... Or so my instincts raved. I doubted apocalypse was something Asrael would tolerate, not when there were still so many animals out there to sink his fangs into.

When I finally came to, blinking blearily and shaking cum off my clothes and hair, it was dark. I hazily looked around, trying to get my bearings. The sun had gone down. Streetlights were starting to turn on. The room was... murky. My lower cocks were nearly submerged in seed and the windows had blown out into the street, letting the river of cum pour steadily out. So at least we weren't at risk of drowning. Several of the overhead lights had been cratered from the force of... belly.

Dimly, I regarded the orb of brown-and-cream fur in front of me. It was enormous, but it wasn't as large as I expected... Or as I remembered? I wasn't sure. Flashes of more rounds, more and more endless breeding, flickered through my head. I couldn't tell though if they were memories or just cum-drunk fantasies. The room got darker as my forehead hit the very soft, warm belly...

***

The calming sensation of claws dragging through my hair was the first thing I felt, slowly dredging me up and out of the sea of cum in my brain.

I surfaced with a deep undignified inhale, drool making it a wet slurp. The soft, warm otterfur under me was a pleasant way to wake up... Even if I'd gotten him a bit wet.

"Whhughh. Happen?" I pushed the words out of my maw. Three paws holding me, rubbing along my back, were a very enticing ticket back to dreamland. Those two steadily pulsing shafts weren't bad to lay on either.

He chuckled softly, "We had a bit of fun. You really blew the top off, Jay." It sounded like even that was an understatement.

"Mmmngh," was all I could say in reply, wriggling closer to him and in the process shoving myself deeper up under his tail.

Oh. I clenched my groin muscles to throb, getting a groan from Asrael as I felt my own shaft lurch inside him. I could even feel the force of it from inside him... I was much bigger than I had been this morning.

"Hhrfh. It's still wearing off, so don't worry about having to buy new clothes. Though you might keep a few extra inches."

We laid there in silence, cocks throbbing together, holding each other. It was a little awkward to be cuddling-with-benefits on the floor, but not uncomfortable. Slowly I tried to thread my memories back together, figure out what all happened to us. And what I'd seen from myself now. Never would have thought I'd end up topping Asrael... Dom-topping, no less.

"Do... you wanna do this again sometime?" I ventured.

"Oh absolutely," he said. I could hear the grin in his voice without even looking. Something untensed in me, a part worried that somehow I'd overdone it for him. Though I shouldn't have been worried, he'd clearly enjoyed being blimped out. Speaking of...

I glanced around, "I'm guessing you fixed everything?" The room was looking pretty spotless. Hell it was even cleaner than when we'd gotten here, given that we'd both power-washed the entire room.

"Yeah," he said simply. Guess it was no big deal for him. Sort of hard to wrap my head around, given that we'd... I'd... exploded the whole room out into the street.

"So... What do I do now?" The implication was heavy. He'd reunited me with the massive fuckbeast deep in there, some version of me that could have grown into my potential if I'd been born into a more accepting world. Well I probably wouldn't have grown up to have three cocks, but whatever heightened-reality he'd created in here had certainly made its point. There wasn't really a way back now.

"Well as much as I loved that, I don't think I ought to be your cumdump every time." The way he said that, so casually, made me shudder and spurt into him. "Really, things would probably get out of hand in a way that I can't so easily undo. But... I can introduce you to some folks with an appetite that might come close."

I looked up at him and he cupped my muzzle with a paw, then came in to touch our snouts together for a moment. I couldn't help but blush, an absurd notion given how much we'd just done.

"What about like... Going out in public?"

"Actually I was thinking about that while you snoozed... Given how well you did with my fuckery, I think I might be able to teach you a couple little tricks," he mused.

"Consider me a student of 'fuckery', then," I giggled.

***

I patted my paws over the couch cushions again. Oh, this was silly, but I wanted things to be perfect. Jaimie hadn't been doing so great for a while, and... I knew it was a bit weird, but I felt kind of responsible for helping him. We had some uh... similar 'interests', and he definitely held a lot for me to be interested in.

Surprisingly he'd been pretty eager to meet up again not long after the movie date. I thought maybe he'd want to chill on it given how almost-public things got, but then he suggested we... "Have our own kind of 'movie night'". Quotes included. He mentioned he'd made a few new friends, and they encouraged him to try some new things. So I wanted everything to be perfect!

I'd even gotten a few tarps and carefully stashed them under the couch for easy deployment when things got handsy. I couldn't help myself around him, and he knew it. He was just so adorable, so horny, so much otter.

From the moment I'd heard the doorbell I was stiff, and I made sure he knew it. He seemed a little different, and it was really doing it for me. I wouldn't describe his demeanor as more confident necessarily, but more... present? Definitely more openly hungry, given how often his eyes darted down to my long, slender boner-bulge.

I'd chosen some movies that we didn't really care about, on purpose. One of these days we really ought to watch some actually good cinema instead of junk like Tesseract: Reloaded.

And then finally, around about the end of the first act, it happened. He let out his pillar of ottercock, jutting up imposingly, thick as fuck and ready to deliver from those deliciously overstuffed balls. Gods I wished I could get that in me, though I knew it would kill me if somehow I did. It looked even thicker than ever, and... maybe a bit longer? Was that a thing, did hypers just grow sometimes? I needed to check the forums later.

I wanted to pounce, but he stopped me. "Turn around, little deer." When I did, he pressed it up against my tail and slid there, making me throb and moan like a whore and spurt onto my couch.

He was probably going like, grind it. Act like we were doing it doggy style. Well I loved the taste, but that was hot as hell too. If it weren't for my antlers I'd be ducking my head down to lick at him anyway.

And then he pressed it up under my tail and the strangest sensation hit me: a deep, satisfying stretch like I was doing the most pleasant yoga pose in the world. I gripped at the cushions, keened and pressed back against him and he throbbed hard... In me.

In me?!

I whipped my head around, thankfully he wasn't anywhere near my danger prongs. My tail was split open and that log was wedged into me, sliding steadily deeper. I gaped, at a total loss for words.

Jay was grinning, gripping at my sides. Some part of me was confused that I wasn't fearing for my life given how much otter was already in me... But I wasn't. I just knew, somehow, that this really happening.

"Oh I'm gonna blow your fucking mind, Dalton."