Various Sonnets
Some off-the-cuff sonnets written for people after a stream.
14 Werewolves at the Mall
I
The beasts of lore are not the same as now.
A modern werewolf stands quite tall and proud.
Their violent past they firmly disavow.
The mission now? Make cute guys squeal out loud!
In suit and tie, they stroll about their day.
Some shop for treats at pet stores in the mall.
They leave their fur and fangs on full display,
And only sometimes grind up on y'all.
If you excuse their minor humpage, please,
You'll see that they are suffering great need,
As when they shove you down upon your knees,
A knot of red appears; he asks, "Please knead?"
A werewolf's lust can be quite difficult to sate,
So do it right and you'll be asked to mate!
II
But one werewolf is not enough for some;
A dozen plus some more is way more fun!
From darkened hallways of the mall they come,
Each panting, growling, watching your tight bun.
With fourteen werewolves crowding all around,
The beefy wolflike bodies block the light.
They pack in close to muffle any sound
As massive lupine swells fill up your sight.
Discarding suits and coats, they up their growls,
With muscled bodies squeezing tight, but smells
Engage your nostrils, damp and hot, then howls
Erupt to ring your head like many bells!
These werewolves are quite ravenous tonight!
Be careful that you don't end up a bite!
III
A dozen yellow eyes glint in the dark.
Their claws rake over thighs and chest and more.
The sharpened points drag down your bulging arc.
Plump lips press forward, whisper: "You'll be sore..."
When modern werewolves gang up on a toy,
They're careful not to rend or tear their prize.
They want to bring their plaything special joy,
And fill them up with spunk right to the eyes!
One after next, they take their turns, some twice.
The werewolf knots invade your rump and throat
As many of the beasts line up for thrice.
They happily discuss your rump and gloat:
"For such a cutie, he stays oh-so-tight!
We oughtta keep 'im here to play all night!"
IV
Bukkake scenes can often underwhelm,
But werewolves make enough to satisfy!
Huge ropes of seed run down your face, unhelmed.
Soon all fourteen huge males let out a cry.
Their howls reach halls full of security
And draw attention from the passerby.
They quickly stuff their shafts away safely,
Though bulges do their aroused state bely.
The guard arrives to find you a hot mess.
"They've come again," he says, without intent.
"Are you okay, or are you in distress?"
You hold back your true thoughts: No wolves? Lament!
You growl and leave, a smile upon your lip,
Because a werewolf slipped and gave a nip...
For Mabel
A puff of smoke and she arrives in style:
A panda-kitsune wearing naught but socks,
And from her lips a plump cigar, burned while
The cigar matron offers you a box.
The taste is sweet upon your lips when smoked,
So smooth and rich that you forget yourself.
Your chest expands each time you pull a toke,
Until your bust line forms a perfect shelf.
Below, your pants stretch taut and rip apart,
Allowing greater changes to begin.
Now exhale slow and be prepared to start
Your new life work of causing endless sin.
The pandsune's gifts are to be admired,
But beware the flame, 'cuz you'll be rewired!
For Baylith and Kouya
I
The pup was cute, of that there was no doubt.
Pink nose, flopped ears, a single braid down back,
With olive eyes and a plump rump to flout,
He flitted by as if to urge a smack.
Though in a crowded bar, the pup was plain
To see, and made a beeline when his olf-
-actory sense picked up a lupine vein:
He found his prize, an average looking wolf.
The pup squeezed close and slid himself along
Frontside, up-down, much to the wolf's surprise.
Claws closed around the canine hips, so strong,
As Baylith's hips shoved towards the canine thighs.
Be careful when you choose to dance with dogs;
They tend to amplify the size of logs.
II
And such it was with Baylith as he grew
With each firm thrust from the cute dog below.
The wolf felt urges surge, a need to screw,
And worried he would soon begin to show.
His biceps flexed and pecs inflated up,
While quadriceps ripped through the fabric shorts.
The wolf's whole body grew against the pup;
His massive wolfcock hardened up like quartz.
The thick-hipped doggy growled and whipped his tail,
While Baylith's growls rose loud above the scene.
He swelled with muscle, ready to impale,
Big daddy wolf, a proper fuck machine.
It may seem rude to hump upon dance floors,
But squealing pups just love to act like whores.
III
He's ten feet tall, a brute of pure male rut,
With massive shoulders and a mane of white.
He howls and roars as he approaches nut,
While pup below is grinning wide and bright.
The wolven knot slides deep into the dog,
Cause instant consternation in the crowd.
But Baylith grunts, his musk just like a fog,
Wolf's only focus on the pup he plowed.
Though Baylith can't withdraw his massive knot,
He doesn't stop his thrusting, dancing moves.
The puppy moans, impaled upon Dreadnought;
Of getting swole, the jiggle-dog approves.
The Daddy Wolf is now the one in charge,
And pup can't claim he made the beast too large.
For Tatsky
I
The clothes upon the rack did shine divine
And draw attention from the passing bun.
He stared across the glass to see the sign;
The price upon the printed tag did stun.
Rabbits aren't known for being all that sly,
But plans formed up beneath the longish ears.
The bunny sneaked inside to give a try
At stealing clothes despite his greatest fears.
He browsed the store at first, to throw them off,
Then made his way to the display of note.
The outfit from the body he did doff,
Then stuffed the clothes down into a deep tote.
And when the rabbit left the shop at last,
Alarms did ring and into ears did blast.
II
The rabbit ran and got away okay,
So paused to check his stolen merchandise.
He placed upon his head the cute beret,
And grinned when it sagged down across his eyes.
The top was next, and into it he slipped;
He liked the feel upon his narrow chest.
His paws went down and off his pants he stripped,
Then pulled the slinky bottom up to rest.
He liked the look of such tight clothes on him,
But straps of fabric dragged against his fur.
At once he thought to take a pseudonym.
The rabbit thought it strange, but did prefer...
Be careful when you steal the clothes you own,
As rabbit found when he began to moan.
III
Titanic titties swelled in girth and size;
The rabbit's lips plumped, fat and full of paint.
A lusty look came 'cross the bunny's eyes
While lower down a huge shaft voids restraint.
The rabbit's is mangled, then refined,
As giggles dribble past her plumped up lips.
The clothes install a whole new frame of mind
As back into the shop the bimbo slips.
The sales clerk grins and gives her a name tag;
The rabbit's shift means she can at last play.
The bunny bimbo doesn't even gag
When shoppers fill her muzzle, no leeway.
If stealing SynTech clothes is now your goal,
Be warned that you will sacrifice your hole!
For Rykela
The poodle's bouffant hairdo scraped the roof;
Large ears and tail contained shaped balls of hair.
She turned her head and spoke a little "woof!"
Her close-shaved body looked so pale and fair.
Large teardrops bounced upon her muscled chest;
Despite their size the massive breasts outdone
By bright pink orbs, their musky hue so blessed
Past narrow thighs and calves they overrun.
A dark red shaft points past the poodle's head,
The leak of musky milk a constant threat,
A terrifying canine knot in bed,
All part of graceful poodle's rich jet set.
When she comes back with extra from her cruise,
She'll be the one to expand all your views.
For Rykela II
The high-class gloves wrapped all the slender arms,
Though little could contain her swollen chest.
Her lack of cover set off the alarms,
But slender skunk wore what she thought was best.
She strode in on stiletto heels of black;
Matched tights climbed high up calves and thighs.
Shirt fabric stretched around skunk's heavy rack.
From 'neath the skirt? A swollen monstrous sac.
Her mighty shaft slapped on the counter first.
"The problem here," she said, "is that I ask
For condoms that can fit my big fat girth.
The weather b'loons you sold are not to task."
Be careful dealing with a stylish skunk -
A wrong word means you'll be their new spunk punk.