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The Cockleganger feat. Django & Wrest

By Danath

Characters © and commissioned by Wrest

Django © pumafgt

* * *

"Django!"

Silence greeted the bleating call, which ricocheted up the old split-log stairs and through the narrow wooden hallway , piercing the doors as well as the eardrums of a late-sleeping puma wrapped up in a light blue blanket. Bright green eyes blinked open above a white-tipped muzzle set in a sea of golden fur. The feline's jaws stretched open and his tongue curled out in a deeply necessary yawn. Each limb stretched outwards in a different direction as various muscles and tendons stretched awake. The feline sat up and the light, handwoven blanket covering his chest fell to his hips, revealing his toned and muscular torso. Despite his short height and thin figure, his pelt curled and squeezed over every dimple caused by each protruding mound of fiber. His pecs glistened in the light beaming in through the open wooden window, allowing the fresh spring breeze to lift his sense of smell - he could make out the various ingredients in different stages of preparation around the room, like the dried angelroot in the windowsill or the sticky bucket of congealed cinnatar in the far corner. A different, unusual scent tingled at his nostrils - warm and spicy and masculine - but the feline sniffed again and it was gone, desaturated with the scents of the morning dew on the warm late spring breeze blowing in through the open window.

Django curled his arms back behind his head and flopped into the straw mattress, sighing as he relaxed in the sunbeam now glittering across his densely muscled twelve-pack abs. The limber feline flexed his meaty thighs and curled his toes, snicking out his claws as he stretched one more time before responding to the summons from downstairs. He shifted his hips to adjust for his tail, but froze in place, tensing up from head to toe as his ears swiveled flat to his skull. The muscular feline had a knack for herbs and potions, but in other respects was often caught up short. In this case, it was a failure to notice the huge, warm object nestling between his thighs and knees. It shifted of its own accord and Django tried not to yelp with fright. He peered between his legs where the blankets shifted side to side rhythmically, draped over something larger than a chicken but smaller than the wooden chest Korophil kept his most precious ingredients in.

Django quickly glanced around the room, but all was still and as it should be: a small desk in the corner with a quill, ink, and parchment for notes, a dresser with one broken drawer piled high with books and spare clothes, and just enough room in one corner for the equipment he used to maintain his body: heavy iron balls with handles attached, each in various weights. The local blacksmith wasn't sure about the request at first, but Django couldn't fault his handiwork - the heavy orbs taxed even his impressively strong physique.

The feline returned his attention to the shifting movement under the blanket as a sinking feeling overcame him after a jolt of sudden realization. If he was right, he'd much prefer whatever was under the blankets to be a woodland intruder - a large python, maybe, or a hairless catyena. One of his paws trembled as he reached out and grasped the edge of his blanket before casting it aside, muzzle dropping open in shock at the sight of what lay beneath.

A massive horsecock flexed against the blanket on top of the straw mattress. The shaft sprung from Django's own golden-furred hips, replacing his maleness with one that was entirely too large and strangely colored to possibly be the muscular, small, golden-furred puma's. The flared tip of the horse-stalk crawled towards the puma's toes between his meaty calves, almost as long as the distance from his shoulder to his wrist. It was a deep black color flecked with splotches of red around the base; the mixed-color splotches of red and black ran all the way to the bottom of the imposing medial ring halfway down the shaft. Throbbing veins traced the whole surface of its flesh, swelling visibly around the edge of the flare. It was warm and sensitive, especially where the fat, wrist-thick urethra pulsed against a pair of testicles coated with a fine layer of black fur across dark, stretching skin filling out and roiling from within. Together, the pair was easily as wide as Django's own hips, but now they squeezed together between his knees, providing a warm and silky-smooth cushion for the unreal arousal to twitch against. The smell he caught a whiff of earlier returned in force, warmer and spicier, full of lust and power.

Another surprise presented itself as the puma's coughing finally subsided. The muscular feline stared in awe at the black-furred sheath stretching and filling and growing, forcing his muscular thighs to spread ever further apart. He curled his toes into the black-furred flesh of his massive sac and stiffened as he felt the skin stretching wider, every fraction of a motion driving spikes of pleasure up and down his spine. It was like the time he accidentally drank a bangfruit tea without lemon, but instead of giving him hiccups, carnal lust flooded his brain and choked away any rational thought.

"Nnnngghh!"

"Djangoooo!"

The puma's tongue fell out of his muzzle as he leaned over, fingers curled into half-claws as his actual claws snicked out inches from his swelling sheath. He snorted, eyes wide, staring as the fuzzy rim of the black-furred sheath stretched and stretched, wider by the moment. Django felt as though time slowed as he watched an enormous knot bigger than both of his fists put together grow out of the sheath. The girth made it awkwardly large on his hips and he could feel the weight of the thing tugging the whole package forward. Veins stood out from the stiff bulb, as if it was in the grasp of fleshy vines. The puma's eyes rolled into the back of his head as the massive vulpine knot inflated, swelling and drawing energy, powering a few thumping lurches from the oversized arousal protruding from his slim and slender hips. The stalk bounced over his dark black sac, flexing majestically as the curse that brought it to Django gave it plenty of power and stamina to function as well as it would on its original owner. The huge shaft bent over in a graceful arc until the massive rough-veined knot stood straight up while the flared tip nestled into the broad crevice between the feline's gigantic testicles. Django's claws slapped down into the straw and blankets beneath him as the flare throbbed twice into the fuzz, each individual, fine hair sending its own unique thrill down the sensitive dark red and black horsecock. The feline's throat seized as his cock flexed outwards, the tip scraping against his sac before lifting away and pulling his whole body forward, applying pressure to the root and making him squirm even more. This was only the warm-up, Django knew. Every time the curse struck - every time! - the morning wood was the worst.

This time was especially bad. The pleasure seared him as Django's hard, firm rump shifted, elbows bent, fingers clutching at air, a steady stream of intense spikes of pleasure making thinking or even breathing more difficult by the moment. The hybrid horse-fox maleness jutted upwards, lifting off the bed as it grew to full, breathtaking arousal in front of the puma's green eyes.

It lifted higher into the air, first pointing out at an awkward angle that made the puma whimper at the pressure on the root of his transformed and enlarged arousal. Helpfully, his testicles were now overly large as well, and as his arousal built, they swelled and sloshed, creaking and stretching fatter and rounder until he was forced to bend his legs around them and could still not touch his feet together on the other side.

The towering maleness pointed almost straight up in the air before Django realized what was about to happen. The puma's muzzle opened as the huge length jerked and fell backwards towards the feline's belly, torso, and face, blocking out the beam of sunlight. The cat tried to raise his arms to block the throbbing, angry red arousal, but--

SMACK!

"DJANGOOOOOOOO!"

The piercing, shrill tone of the bleating voice set the cat's teeth on edge as he shoved his immense arousal to the side with both arms. His nose smarted from the heavy whomp of the huge, musky maleness hitting him moments previously. Eyes watering from the sting of the blow as well as the sudden flush of raw sexual energy he felt stirring in his newly empowered loins, he still managed to holler out a response.

"Korophil! I'll be a... it's just... hold on!" he shouted, hoping the old goat didn't need him for anything urgent.

The feline's lower lip trembled as he felt his shaft lurch again, straightening out, insistently crawling up his belly and chest so that the flared, fist-sized tip shoved up under his chin. Django's muzzle opened automatically as he leaned forward slightly, jaws stretching around the girth. The taste of the masculine scent and smooth, warm skin sent tingles down the cat's backside. His plump, bouncy rump squeezed taut as he shoved his hips forward, pumping the oversized erection to the back of his broad muzzle. His paws traversed the girth of the flexing shaft from his lips to near the base, but it was so long and stiff he couldn't get to the knot. He growled around the flexing, leaking tip in his muzzle, swallowing rhythmically, unable to help himself.

Shifting his legs, he drew them back so his enormous, swollen, audibly roiling sac stretched out behind his rump. Twisting his knees outwards, he brought his paws in and pressed forward until the pads on his toes and soles squeezed firmly against either side of the errantly massive knot as the root of the enormous fox-horse arousal. His eyes squeezed shut and a gush of thick white jizz splurted out of his nostrils and the corners of his muzzles. He kept the pressure up for only another moment before dragging his feet and muzzle away. The huge flared tip stretched outwards, spraying a rope of seed across the bed and the puma's face before settling back down into a steady, pulsing throb against his chest.

"So noted," the feline gasped, legs and arms quivering from the aftereffects of the pleasure brought on by the hypersensitive knot. "Nnnngghhh... this ain't gonna be fun..."

Carefully, the feline wrapped his paws around the fat length of his transformed erection just under the flare. His fingertips only brushed together on the other side as he tightened his grip, trying to prevent any more of a mess in his room. The cat's hard abs squeezed, powering him up to a sitting position, before he slowly twisted his legs towards the floor, awkwardly grimacing as his massive sac turned over and bumped against his backside.

He was able to lean forward and get to his feet with his huge sac still on the bed behind him. He held his cock in both paws as his swerved side to side, writhing angrily in his tight grasp. The urethra swelled as backed-up cum and pre made him moan at the pressure. His whole body flexed, muscles popping against his golden pelt, which rippled with power in the sunlight.

Django stumbled forward, dragging his pillow-sized sac, pulling it with some care from the bed. It swung down and slapped around the back of his legs, making him stifle a cry that would have definitely provoked questions from anyone who heard it. Instead, Django bit his lower lip and clenched his fingers tighter, until the dark red shaft heaved angrily in his grasp.

"Window... window!"

The feline was never more grateful for his powerful, muscular body than he was now, lugging a dozen pounds of hybrid cock and balls even a few feet. He slumped forward, just managing to get the end of his arousal out of the open window before he relaxed his grip. His hard, toned rear end shoved down onto his own massive sac, but when he realized what he was doing, it was already too late.

The puma's muscular thighs clenched around the hypersensitive knot at the base of his massive cock as the tip lurched outwards, stretching and pulling as the built up explosion within primed for release. The tip opened, launching incredible jets through the window and into the air, careening many feet out in a long arc before splattering onto the grass, bushes, and trees of the undeveloped woodland surrounding the herbalist's hut. He was careful, though, even in the orgasmic haze of pleasure emptying his brain, to aim away from Korophil's garden.

One gut-churning explosion of raw masculine energy after another pumped from deep in the feline's shaft, dozens of loads, too many to count. The puma leaned forward, taking some of the pressure off his fat sac, but that only intensified the squeeze around his knot, eliciting a short yowl as his cannon fired anew, spurred by his smooth paw pads vigorously groping and rubbing and pulling at the immense length. His fingers squeezed around the medial ring, earning an extra flex that shot a glob of hot, white jizz nearly out of sight.

"NNnnnngggghhhh why won't you stooooop!" the puma groaned, ears lying back as the endless waves of orgasmic bliss rolled through his body, making his hard muscles flex and tense over and over until he ached from head to toe, and yet he still came, still shot incredibly thick, sticky, virile loads of seed through the window until he was sure he'd die of dehydration before going soft. The strand of seed from earlier that spattered his face clung to his nostrils, filling his brain with the intense masculine scent of someone else, someone raw and unbridled, powerful, a stallion and fox hybrid of some sort, and obviously... obviously... very... well... endoooowed...

"DJANGO!"

The voice thundered through the room, ripping Django out of his stupor where he lay slumped over the windowsill, most of his cock hanging over the edge and still dripping. His huge nuts draped down the wall as he turned his head, eyes wide and ears back.

"Korophil... uh... I can explain..."

In the doorway to his room, a pot-bellied goat of advanced age spryly stalked into the room, showing no evidence of slowing down despite how old he appeared. Shaggy gray and white hair strung around his wizened face and puckered cheeks, but he moved easily, with no signs or symptoms of aging.

The goat glanced down at the puma's crotch and rolled his eyes.

"Every time there's important work to do, this!" he said, gesturing with his wrinkled hands. "Just hurry downstairs. This potion needs two people."

"I'll be... I'll be fifteen minutes, Korophil," Django gasped.

The goat paused, glancing at the visible part of the massive knot and shaft, and did the math on how large the part currently out of view hanging over the side of the cottage was. Korophil's lips stretched open to reveal his yellowed teeth, and he reached up to scratch at the base of his gnarled gray horns with a fingertip.

"Remind me to give you a cream for that," the goat said, unable to hide his amusement at his apprentice's predicament.

"A cream won't stop a curse!" the puma snapped, embarrassed.

The goat turned and walked away, though his undulating voice floated back into the room.

"It's for your backside, boy... seems like you're gonna need all the help you can get for this one."

Django groaned and leaned back over his hypersized cock, gasping as a few more surges of pleasure forced another couple of splotches of seed to drizzle out of the flare. This was definitely the biggest of all of them. Too big.

Reality began to set in for the puma as his fingers drew away from the quivering red flesh and compared the girth of the thickness to his own belly. There wasn't much room between them. Django's tailhole involuntarily puckered at the thought of the fat, throbbing flared tip squeezing his cheeks apart and stretching him beyond what was possible...

That was how his curse worked. Every now and again, he'd wake up to to find his perfectly good, nicely sized pink cock gone, replaced instead by that of another male. Sometimes small, sometimes big, sometimes more exotic, but never anything approaching this immense phallus currently draining out the window. His heart thumped as he realized what he was going to have to do to get back to normal, and swallowed hard, not sure he should have snapped at Korophil for offering to help a few moments ago as the huge hybrid horsecock sagged in the blanket wrapped around his hips.

He was going to need all the help he could get.

"DJANGO!"

"Coming!"

The puma dressed quickly, rigging an extra belt around his massive endowment to try and hold it in place against his thigh. Fortunately, the incredible knot retreated into the sheath, but the steady pulsing need within didn't abate. He just knew it could come out at the slightest provocation. Django walked gingerly, slowly easily himself down the stairs and into the cooking room of the herbalist cottage where a trio of fireplaces boiled cauldrons and steeped various herbs down into thick, sticky resins suitable for potions or further processing.

The old goat was at his workbench carefully measuring amounts of different ingredients when he looked up and saw Django carefully easing himself in.

"Here," Korophil said, tossing a heavy clay bottle towards the puma.

Django reached out to grab it, but the weight of his pendulous arousal tripped him up. Though he managed to snag the fragile clay cream bottle, he fell onto his oversized sac with a churning thunk that made his eyes go wide and a splatter of thick white cream to ooze down his legs and soak into the ancient, blackened floorboards.

"Heh... don't worry, boy, that'll help when the time comes. Now get moving, important client today."

The goat seemed in an awfully good mood, which could only mean one thing: he'd solved another problem that perplexed all the other herbalists, mages, and potion-makers in the world, and he was going to collect on it today. Nothing pleased the old goat more than seeing his personal hoard grow. Django sometimes wondered if the ancient billy weren't actually just a hairy dragon for all he talked about money.

Django struggled to make himself useful, but by lunch he was exhausted from lugging around the oversized sac and shaft. His thighs ached as he lowered himself carefully into a wooden chair at the table and gratefully accepted the bowl of stew Korophil handed him. The goat sat across from the puma and smirked.

"At least there will be no mystery this time," the goat said, his voice adopting a completely innocent tone that made the puma's hackles go up. "You know, I never saw an herbalist who could identify people without ever seeing their face. It's a special skill."

Django fumed in silence, knowing better than to react to Korophil's teasing.

"Ah, well... such is the life of a poor old billy like me," Korophil continued. "Taking in a poor, lost, cursed little kitten, a mere bundle of snot and rags, only to discover he's possibly... well, not now, but maybe in a lifetime, as good as me when it comes to the magic of nature."

The goat paused and glanced at Django, whose ears were set back, eyes slitted, and tail flicking side to side behind him with tension.

"Eh, maybe a very long lifetime. Anyways, the poor lad is cursed! And not even I, the great Korophil, can undo it, and so my life becomes a series of strange males spending the night doing unmentionable things to my apprentice. Alas," the goat said, ignoring his livid feline apprentice as he theatrically gestured around the workshop, "such is my lot. But at least he's out of bed in time for breakfast."

"Oversleeping is a symptom of the curse. You tested the loss of spirit yourself." Django's voice was low and soft and the opposite of how his drawn-back teeth appeared.

Korophil abruptly stood and reached out, tapping Django on the snout in a certain sensitive spot that drove a blinding spike of pain through his ears. The feline yowled and reached for his nose, but the pain was already gone. He blinked, confused and distracted, before he realized Korophil was already up at his workbench and chuckling to himself about the follies of youth and ego.

Django cooled off as he finished the stew - tasty, but unidentifiable, often incorporating the bits of the plants and animals less useful for potion-making and still somewhat edible.

"Come help me, Django."

The old goat's voice lacked the teasing edge of before. Django hurriedly slurped the last of the stew from the wooden bowl and jumped up from his chair.

A cracking, breaking sound echoed through the room. Korophil closed his eyes and bowed his head, ears fluttering as an awesome array of swears floated from the table behind him. The goat waited a few seconds, about to turn to offer his apprentice assistance, but as he shifted his shoulders, a low, keening moan of pain made him stop. Korophil quickly turned back, lips tight, trying not to let out the laugh building up inside him.

The moan trailed off, followed by some heavy panting and sighs. It was almost five minutes and Korophil was red in the face beneath his crinkly white fur before he heard the feline's slow footsteps approach the workbench.

Django's despondent look - the broad white muzzle turned down, the droopy eyes, the listless tail - pushed the goat over the edge. He collapsed on the workbench, his wheezing laughter sending piles of herbs and seeds scattering across the smooth wood. The feline's tail tip twitched as he waited patiently, the despondent look replaced with smoldering anger by the time Korophil was finished.

"Hoo, hooo, hoo... hoo... now... now then, Django," the billy said, struggling to control himself, "I'm decanting this potion for a customer later today. It must be mixed absolutely precisely by pouring in the Breath of Clover at the same time."

As he instructed the feline, Django's demeanor cooled off once more. The old goat, he knew, was just having a laugh at him to keep him distracted. In a way, it was the only way Korophil ever really showed he cared, and possibly the only way he knew how. What failings the goat had in temperament, Django also knew, he more than made up for in skill. The feline paid strict attention as they practiced the procedure, carefully measuring and pouring water into water to get the timing down. It took three tries before Korophil was satisfied. On this potion especially the goat took extra care and attention, going drop by drop until he was satisfied with the speed and amounts of each tip of the droppers.

At long last they finished. Django realized it was early afternoon, well past lunch, but the task absorbed their attentions completely until it was done. Now the bubbling vial settled down in its dark, tinted glass bottle. The goat put a cork in the top, then grasped the neck of the bottle with a clean rag to protect his fingers from the heat. He handed it to the puma.

"Take it to the stream and let it cool."

"Yes, Korophil."

But the puma once more forgot the pendulous weight hovering over his thighs, loosely strapped in with the belt and clumsily wrapped with the blue blanket. As he turned, the blanket snagged on the corner of the table. The glass flask in the puma's paws flew from his fingers as he tripped over his own massively swollen sac. His hips ground down into his sheath, triggering a cascade of various feelings as his knees slid down either side of his huge, black-furred balls. Finally, the puma's head slammed into the floor, tipped over by his own off-balance weight, and his jaw cracked into the floorboards.

A few feet in front of him, the glass flask shattered, spilling the piping hot contents across the floorboards where the mixture evaporated, leaving behind only a faint smell of clover and a purple-tinged residue.

"No! Django, look what you've done! It takes a full day and night to make a batch that size!"

The puma's ears twitched. His rump clenched and his tail stuck straight out behind him, bushed out and angry, as the pain in his jaw collided with the growing need in the root of his monstrous phallus. It was a strange, lustful urge, not something the puma had ever felt before. The heat stretched its fiery tendrils through the knot stuffed deep in his packed sheath and down the length of the massive shaft stretching out towards his knees, trapped beneath his own pendulous orbs.

A loud and dramatic triple-knock on the door - pounding thuds, really - drew the attention of goat and puma. The old billy shuffled over, growling under his breath about wasting precious ingredients. Django tried to get to his feet, both wincing and gasping as the massive hybrid cock tented out against his insufficient blanket covering. His abs contracted, muzzle open as he tried to will away the upwelling need flickering through his veins. He licked his lips, green eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to focus on the door instead of his own arousal. It wouldn't do to make a scene in front of a customer.

Korophil swung open the door and subsequently craned his neck back until his horns rubbed into his shoulders.

"Wrest! We were just talking about you," the billy said, grinning and moving aside so the customer could enter.

Django's eyes bulged as he watched a massive red-furred fox head poke through the door, followed by a pair of hunched-over shoulders. Though he appeared vulpine from his broad neck up, his torso was boxier, heavier, and incredibly built. A leather harness crossed over his massive shoulders, which were so wide he had to turn them sideways to get through the door. Even still, his enormous, bulging pecs ground into the door jam as he squeezed inside. The lush rust-red fur coating the foxstallion's head and face, aside from his black-tipped ears and muzzle, faded as it thinned around the huge male's chest. The taut black horse hide beneath highlighted the curve and heft of each pendulous pectoral, along with the brazenly displayed black-skinned nipples capping each taut muscle. Beneath, a dense array of abdominal muscles crawled up the stallion's sides and down his belly. He was as thick in the hips as he was in the shoulders, though a patch of longer, shaggier black fox fur and a loosely-draped loincloth hanging from a leather cord around his hips hid the definition of his lower half. Judging from the foxstallion's wide stance, massive paws, and calves that put the puma's own to shame, Django was sure he had discovered whom his new endowment had copied.

The puma stared, open-muzzled, as Korophil made excuses for the potion not being ready, casting occasional glances towards the dumbstruck puma as he spoke. The massive foxstallion responded with grunts, though a grin spread slowly across his face as the goat spoke. The room darkened, muscular shadows climbing the walls as the ten-foot-tall foxstallion's black ears twitched against the ceiling beam.

"Of course, I am immediately working on a replacement, and can only beg for your patience in this matter. Having found a working solution for your... ahem... condition, I'm confident staying one day longer won't be such a burden?"

The puma's eyes drifted across the stallion's feet, watching the dim light reach around the bulky male's body and glint off his obsidian claws poking out from the toes. The huge male had a pair of light sandals strapped around his pads, which were vulpine in appearance, much like the hybrid's head and arms. The most noticeable horse traits were his supremely muscular torso and, judging from what lay between his own thighs, his arousal. The harness around his shoulders met in a solid metal ring under his navel. The loincloth was made of a heavy, supple leather with intricately done hemming around the edges. The leather lacework appeared like an endlessly coiling rope. In the back, the loincloth ran beneath his long foxtail, gently swishing back and forth.

Django shuddered, a heat building up inside him as his balls swelled and creaked, stretching the blanket outwards. A low quivering moan escaped his muzzle as the short, muscular feline felt a tingle in his spine.

"So please, we keep a guest room out the back where you can rest until tomorrow. Django will bring you something to eat and drink in a few minutes."

The foxstallion - Wrest, as Korophil called him - cast a long glance at the trembling puma. His hazel eyes narrowed slightly as he saw the shifting bulge beneath the feline's blanket, but he said nothing. The huge foxstallion's paws were surprisingly quiet as he followed Korophil out the back door of the shop. As they passed by, the stallion's tail flicked to the side, brushing across the puma's bulge and eliciting another low, half-stifled moan out of the suffering feline.

When Korophil returned a few minutes later, he berated the puma and didn't let up until Django could stand it no longer. As the goat threw a selection of cheeses and breads onto a metal platter, trying to find anything to satisfy the foxstallion's appetite (and hopefully his inconvenience), he stopped, staring at the puma. A wry grin spread across the goat's face as he resumed stacking a few blocks of cheese and a half loaf of unsliced bread on the tray, along with a jug of clear, cool water. The billy even hummed as he completed his task.

"I miss the obvious things sometimes, just like everyone else," the goat said, sliding the tray into Django's left paw and the jug of water into the right. "This problem is already solving itself. Keep him happy for one full day, Django. Trust me, you don't want to see Wrest... unsatisfied. Try not to spill his food, too. He likes my cooking, he said."

The puma nodded, was about to accuse Korophil of enjoying his plight just a little too much, but thought better of it and bit his tongue. He carefully walked out the back and to the guest cottage sat on the far side of the billy's prized herb garden. It was a long trip full of peril - rocks, uneven ground, and stray flowers and branches stroking against his half-hard maleness, all but the knot currently draping from the massive sheath towards the ground between his quivering, muscular legs.

But he made it. He paused for a moment to admire the sheer size of the foxstallion's pointy mace leaned up against the side of the cottage. Staggering into the guest room, he found the foxstallion in the midst of drawing his harness from over his head. The massive, ten-foot-tall hybrid held a giant claymore in his right paw, still sheathed, like it was a short sword. He dropped the harness in the corner followed by the sword, then flexed his arms and rippled his backside, grinning as he noticed Django standing in the doorway staring at him open-muzzled.

"So you're the cursed apprentice? Korophil told me it would be exactly like mine," the foxstallion said in a deep rumble, fingers tugging at the lacing of the loincloth around his hips. "Let me see."

He kicked the loincloth aside, revealing a fittingly massive arousal for the giant warrior. His muscular chest and belly flexed as the huge, flared shaft stretched upwards and outwards, filling out and hardening within moments of being released, as though on command. The enormous sheath hung between the foxstallion's powerful thighs, squeezed in against the muscular lines of sinew, almost circular with the size of the entrapped knot. It was, inch for inch, as big and as powerful on the foxstallion as it was on the short puma, but the way it moved with practiced ease, fitting perfectly into the black-socked arm of the hybrid, reacting to his touch and swelling with need... Django thought it looked bigger, at least.

A huge paw reached down, plucking the platter from the stunned puma's paws before using his fingers to pull a stone jar full of a cream. He sniffed at it and bared his teeth in a ferocious grin, recognizing the scent of this particular mixture, and dropped it into the puma's paws.

"Your potion master is wise," he grunted, turning away and moving to sit on the bed. The movement of the huge shaft and accompanying sac swinging through the air sent a wave of hot, musky scent washing over the puma, whose sensitive nose twitched and spasmed at the invasion. The bed groaned beneath Wrest, threatening to give out, but managed to support his oversized, overmuscled body without breaking. The foxstallion tossed chunks of bread and cheese into his muzzle as he watched the puma react to his musk.

Wrest pointed a finger down between his thighs as he looked at the puma in the eyes, a knowing grin on his muzzle as he chewed, open-mouthed, and swallowed before speaking. "You might as well, kitten... Your body tells me we're going to fuck eventually. You're easy on the eyes, too."

He bit another chunk of bread and chewed as he watched Django kneel immediately. The puma was clearly aroused, unable to handle the pleasure brought by such a powerful and magnificent maleness, and would be very fun to toy with for the next day. Based on how Korophil put it, Django was going to be in his bed one way or another, but it was nice to know he'd have a whole day to spend with the cute little feline.

Wrest's thick stalk speared outwards, curving up slightly, the wrist-thick urethra pulsing as his sheath pulled taut around his knot. He waited as the puma dragged himself over, struggling with the growing size of his matching maleness. Wrest felt the flared tip of the puma's copy-cock press into his sac as the smaller male leaned over, arms wrapping around the huge, dark red length, fingers stroking down to the base to tease at the taut sheath fur. Wrest snorted, smirk growing as he continued to eat, watching as the puma enthusiastically stroked his chest and belly against the hybrid warrior's massive arousal, keeping his own pinned down beneath the foxstallion's huge balls. He licked and kissed across the flare, teasing along the underside and squirming his whole chest against the tip, earning several more happy grunts from the big, muscular neck and muzzle above.

Wrest tossed the platter aside with a clang, grabbed the water jug, and drained it in a few swallows. He sighed as he set the pot down on the floor on the other side of the bed, then finally turned his attention to the muscular golden feline squirming desperately against his lap. Curious about just how much like his own the puma's cock really was, he reached down with a paw and simply wrapped his fingers around the base, doing to the puma what he would do with himself while traveling alone: press the knot free and grind, with the occasional stroke to get to the edge.

What surprised Wrest wasn't that it worked on the puma, whose high shrill moan echoed through the cottage, but just how well it worked. The puma's hips thrust madly into the foxstallion's fingers as he felt wet shots of thick seed splatter across his balls, still draped over the tip of the fat, long length.

"Where's that cream?" the foxstallion asked, his deep voice cutting through the gasps and moans as a growing eagerness spurred him toward the puma.

Django couldn't reply. The writhing, muscular feline's hips twitched against the foxstallion's huge paw, cock firmly embraced and milked expertly by the hybrid. The casual orgasmic endurance continued until Wrest leaned over and plucked the jar from Django's frozen paw.

The sudden release of pressure on his arousal was no relief. Aftershocks of pleasure ran through the puma, but he had no time to enjoy the sensation. Wrest's paws flipped him around, pushing him onto his hands and knees. The enormous hybrid shaft attached to Wrest's broad hips flopped across the puma's backside, leaking and drizzling fat drops of clear precum down the back of his head and neck. The equally outrageous maleness attached to Django squeezed between the floor and his chest, throbbing and spurting, spraying across the room to splatter the wall. Django's eyes widened as he felt a paw grasp his right cheek and pull it to the side, exposing his rump, followed by a thick finger covered in a cool, wet substance roughly grind in, slathering him up and leaving him gasping before pulling away.

A few grunts and Django's muzzle stretched even wider. The huge flared tip of the foxstallion's arousal prodded against his rump, squeezing between his cheeks. It was too big, too impossibly massive, thicker around than the feline's own thigh - there was no way it would...

***

Django's yowl could be heard several miles away, but due to the remoteness of the herbalist's hut, only Korophil and some wild catyenas heard it. The goat grinned as he mumbled over his workbench, carefully measuring and mixing and boiling, one ear cocked for the sounds of his apprentice's world being changed.

"Heh... good thing I had the Elastarberry Cream ready, or I'd be looking for a new assistant. Now, if I add extra bat fur, I can skip the final mixing and finish this myself... but it'll take an extra day... hmmm."

Another loud yowl ricocheted out of the guest house, followed by a wet splatter and a satisfied, yearning grunt. The old billy goat grinned and bent over the table, muttering to himself about having to do everything himself.

***

On the bed in the guest cottage, Django's belly pushed outwards, outlining of the obscenely large, flared horsecock jutting through him. The foxstallion's hot breath washed across his backside as the huge male's hips drove forward, hard and rough, flexing the massive arousal all the way to the hilt with little warning. Django's body twitched and his muzzle opened and closed rapidly, clamping shut as the foxstallion's fingers and claws dug into his slim hips, to either side of his strained tail. Wrest grunted as he dragged the puma back, all the way until his fuzzy black sheath ground up under the feline's tail, blocking the knot within from pushing free.

Wrest shifted his hips forward and back, causing the bed to sway and groan alarmingly beneath him, but the effect on the furniture was nothing compared to the effect on the apprentice. His belly drooped outwards as the foxstallion's immense length thrust to the hilt again, and again, and again, dragging half-out each time as the powerful red-furred arms pulled Django easily up and down. At several points, the puma found himself held aloft, a huge paw cupping either thigh, his massive horsecock bouncing in the air and slapping down against his enormous sac, which itself bounced heavily into the foxstallion's matching pair.

Django's formerly hard, defined, muscular belly rounded out, drooping outwards even after the massive flared arousal withdrew. The amount of thick, musky foxstallion seed filling and flooding the feline made him writhe even harder in the big male's powerful grasp. The puma's knot distended, fully hard and aroused, but disappeared within Wrest's paw.

"NNnngggghh!"

Even the foxstallion was impressed at the reaction. The puma's whole body clenched and squeezed and rippled around his cock, flexing and humping madly in the air as the huge flared shaft pushed the smaller male's belly out even further. The obsidian base of the mammoth stalk squeezed deep and stayed there as the foxstallion's incredible knot inflated. The whimpering, orgasming puma could only squeeze and clench all the harder as one fat rope of thick cum after another trickled through the foxstallion's fingers, which expertly squeezed, teased, and tormented the puma's identical erection.

"So... tight!"

The foxstallion lurched forward, and groaned as his huge length sunk anew into the wriggling, desperate puma beneath him. Both paws reached around, gripping and squeezing the puma's length from the tip to the exposed knot, using it as the handle to hold as his hips arched back and battered down, driving and impaling his own massive arousal deep into the puma. Django's throat filled with seed as his belly stretched rounder, lifting his chest higher off the floor. The crushing power of Wrest's enormous pecs clenched and flexed across the back of the puma's head as he helplessly wriggled, unable to think or make noise as loads of thick white seed poured over his tongue and out of his nostrils. One orgasm after another thrilled through him as his overstimulated knot swelled and pulsed angrily in Wrest's firm, expert grip. His ass stretched wider as the hybrid's knot plunged inwards, spreading his firm rump cheeks even further apart.

Wrest groaned and closed his eyes as the wriggling male's body teased every inch of his maleness. He hadn't been able to enjoy himself like this in quite some time, so he slowed down his thrusts, not wanting to peak too early. He had a whole day to spend with the mewling, gurgling feline, after all. Still, it was hard to resist. Django's body felt good in his paws. Natural. The feline's bloated belly draped around the ten-foot-tall male's fingers as he leisurely humped his hips forward, teasing his medial ring in and out of the puma's tailhole before pumping in fully.

Any ideas about taking things slow vanished as the foxstallion's impressive knot squeezed out of his sheath. He paused, fully deep in the puma, his flared tip visibly pulsing and shifting deep in the feline's fat, full stomach. Wrest shivered, then pushed forward. He pushed, and pushed, and pushed harder, each fraction of an inch stretching Django beyond what the feline thought possible. As Wrest's paw tightened around the puma's over-sensitive knot, the cat could do little but stretch as the bigger male's body surged forward.

There was no breather, no gap in timing, no relaxed moment of shared enjoyment as the foxstallion's knot finally pumped in. The puma's stomach rounded further, showing the bulge, as the tip stretched even farther out in front of Django's slim chest. As soon as the knot entered, Wrest closed his eyes, opened his muzzle, clamped his jaw around the puma's neck, and thrust hard.

Django's world disappeared into the huge fox-hybrid's sharp jaw. The huge teeth pricked his throat as he felt the massive stalk spearing him over and over, lifting him into the air and jiggling his full belly in every direction. Streams of cum poured out of his muzzle, giving the foxstallion a taste of his own seed as he gnawed along the puma's neck and shoulder before pulling back, his knot straining from within

The bed crunched beneath them, the legs finally giving out. The fresh straw mattress thudded onto the floor with a gut-wrenching jerk that made both puma and hybrid cry out together. The puma's belly fattened rapidly after that, any semblance of tone or muscle obliterated by the enormous waves of musky jizz erupting deep inside him. Cum trickled from Django's nostrils and muzzle, gushing as his stomach stretched. It sloshed and roiled, filled to bursting with thick white stallion seed, hiding the outline of the flared horse-shaft and bulbous knot filling him so completely.

Django's couldn't remember what not having an orgasm felt like. His brain rattled in his skull as he writhed and shuddered, tensing and squeezing as magical bolts of energy powered his ongoing arousal, keeping his Wrest-alike shaft pumping and throbbing. The knot ached so good the puma thought he'd lose his mind. His arms windmilled as the foxstallion handled him easily, rolling him back and forth, pushing him up and down until the knot tugged at his insides.

"Rrrrrrrrhh... still tight... old goat was right... this night will go quick," Wrest said, his voice a lazy growl.

The puma moaned, sloshing, cum running from his muzzle and drizzling down his neck and sides, soaking into the mattress beneath.

"Once my knot goes down," the foxstallion groaned above him, "I'll try your little throat, kitty... would you like that?"

* * *

It was closer to the second night when Korophil finally arrived with a fresh replacement for the precious vial. The extra time meant he could finish it by himself instead of requiring his assistant, who was in no shape for such delicate operations. Korphil stepped gingerly around the flood of thick white cum flowing steadily from under the cottage door and rapped twice before opening it and going inside.

The old goat smirked as he watched Wrest's hips slam down, driving his huge, flared horse-stalk deep into the smaller male's guts. Wrest moaned, eyes closed as he rode the helplessly squealing youth, the doppelganger of his shaft slapping down across the panting, cum-soaked puma's belly, squeezing into the formerly muscular male's bloated, cum-stretched belly. Django was doing his best to rub his borrowed member with his arms as the huge male rode him, rising up and down steadily, a hard and heavy rhythm set entirely by one side of the couple.

Wrest opened his eyes and turned his head, glancing at the goat. His tongue flopped out as he grinned, his fox tail wildly waving.

"Can't blame you for enjoying yourself as you wait," Korophil said, moving closer and holding out the flask. It was made of harder tinted glass, crystal-like and more difficult to shatter. "But please try not to damage my apprentice. Anyways, this is what you came for."

The huge foxstallion stretched out his arm to grasp the flask. The pace of his thundering hips hardly faltered.

"This will really quell my libido?" he growled.

"Judging on the effects your libido has had on my apprentice, I made it even stronger than the original batch. Drink a single swallow. The effects should last for up to a week." The foxstallion looked alarmed, so Korophil hurriedly reassured him. "Should a situation, er, arise, you'll still be able to... ahem... perform," the billy said, eyes flicking to where his muscular apprentice's arousal sprayed a few fresh ropes of sticky seed across the moaning puma beneath those awesome thighs. "But you won't be compelled to. All the fire, none of the heat, if you'll pardon the pun."

The foxstallion took a swig of the flask and used his thumb to plug the cork back in, sealing it. He handed it back to the goat. Korophil realized all the furniture in the room, along with one wall, was broken and dented and claw-scratched. Small piles of sodden hay were all that remained of the mattress, while the frame itself was splintered into scraps. Django's desperate, needy moans rang through the room as the goat turned and set the flask on a shelf in the far corner near the door. Being higher up, it escaped the rampage of the past two days. Korophil didn't mind about the furniture. The fee he charged for this elixir was extravagant, as it should be, and Wrest was successful enough at whatever it was the impossibly huge foxstallion did to afford it.

Wrest's hips ground down, swinging his fat balls against the puma's, grinding and squeezing and easily slamming the cat with his knot, plugging and unplugging rapidly until Django was pleading for more, bucking and wriggling desperately beneath the huge male. The fantastically large ball of flesh ground in easily, having thoroughly broken in the panting, squirming, muscular feline the day before.

The stallion pulled back until only the flare of his shaft remained inside the stretched puma's rump, then reached out with both paws and grabbed the sloshing, cum-filled feline off the floor and into the air. Django's head rolled backwards and his muzzle stretched wide as the stallion dragged him back down the stalk, shoving in under the smaller male's golden pelt showed the outline of his thickness. Wrest could feel his own heat from inside the cat throbbing against his beefy pecs and growled as he dragged Django back up, then down, up and down, hard and fast, working the cat roughly over the medial ridge. Django's own matching arousal, as big and hard and drippy as Wrest's in every way, slid wetly between those powerful pecs, splattering thick seed across the horse-like torso of the powerful hybrid. The triangular, black-tipped ears flexed as he groaned, shoving the puma down heavily, going to the hilt as Django's arousal blasted several dozen thick ropes of seed over his massive pecs.

"I don't feel any different," the foxstallion grunted, as another splattering cumshot graced the puma's head, silencing the eager, sexually-crazed feline for a moment.

"Like I said, you can still perform when you want to..."

The warrior smiled and nodded, understanding as he lifted his hips, dragging himself free of the puma, who twitched in a pool of seed on the floorboards between Wrest's massive feet. He reached down, grasping Django by the shoulders, and pushed him over on his belly onto the flattened mattress. The foxstallion's thickness pierced the gurgling puma a moment later as Wrest settled in to another round of deep, heavy, gut-churning thrusts. Django's belly, having drained somewhat, bloated anew as Wrest's throbbing maleness ground deep, up to the knot.

"Good," was all the foxstallion grunted as his hips slapped forward, driving himself into the mewling, muscular puma.

Korophil laughed and turned around, heading for the door.

"I left another bottle of cream on the floor," the billy said over his shoulder. "And though I will need my apprentice back eventually, you'll be free to have him keep you company whenever you stop by for a refill on that elixir."

The grunts and groans of the huge warrior were the only response Korophil got as he closed the door of the cottage behind him. He'd have to leave some food for the warrior later. In the meantime, he could get some research done without being pestered. Well, aside from the roars, growls, and occasional high-pitched yowls from the guest cottage.

"Such is my life," the goat said, sighing and shaking his horns as he settled down in front of his workbench.

The End