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Men, women, herms, cuntboys, maleherms, any manner of gender, sexual expression and identity make up the entirety of a gym’s population: from jocks to nerds to influencers, to those powerlifters that ogle at other people, those that steal underwear and the ones that love posing in mirrors and those that hog every machine with sweaty towels and never clean up after themselves and generally behave like pricks. From gaining muscle, to losing weight, to hitting on women and sneaking sniffs of recently used seats, you get just about every reason to go to a gym.

At the Hardman's Gym, 99% of the customers claimed their reasons to be among the aforementioned ones: regular, nothing odd, some more extreme or taxing on the body but overall acceptable. Dragons, does, alligators, snakes, cats, wolves, pandas and more, some wearing tight workout clothes, some in loose slacks, some in crop tops and some baring more skin scale or fur than was usual. The owner, Gardiel, had founded the gym mostly because back when she was still working out regularly, she was just a bit too big and too intense in her training for other places and so she had made her own, where she could not worry if a particularly hard rep tore her clothes asunder and let her bare tits and pussy in full view of the entire establishment. Given her stern disposition, no one joined her simply to ogle, but to go all out without worry, especially those that Mother Nature had gifted assets not quite reasonable enough to follow common sense.

For this reason, it wasn't uncommon for someone to be half naked or fully naked, though working just as hard as the others, focusing on only weights and cardio or whatever else as boobs bounced, cocks flopped and asses left musky sweaty prints on gym equipment before being dutifully cleaned by the staff. But, this was only true for the customers, the staff, however... as much as Gardiel Hardman tried, to be willing to work in such an environment and look up after the chaos of her clients, well, a certain mindset was required, and apparently that mindset overlapped with an astonishing number of kinks that sometimes made her wonder why she was even paying them to work and not collect payment from them to let them work instead.

"Baster is making a mess as usual in booth 3, he's set for another 20 minutes of cardio so one of you has to go there and clean up before the next one is slated to use the booth." The towering zebra mare flipped through the camera feed and the schedule for personal training booths as a handful of members of staff waited on Gardiel to continue. "Damned centaur, I keep telling him to wear at least a jock when he runs."

"He keeps saying he likes the feeling of freedom, ma'am." Haley, a stocky fruit bat, chimed in, her lips pulled in a big toothy grin. "Not many chances for him to go for a run in the nude."

"I know that and I can't fault him for it, but still, he leaks like a damn broken tap." Gardiel rolled her eyes as she switched the feed from a running centaur, wholly naked, panting and huffing as the hundreds and hundreds of pounds of his body bore down on the heavy-duty treadmill, the machine slick with sweat and what looked like a near endless stream of precum oozing from the stallion's sheath. "Thank the heavens I ordered the machines to be waterproof." Her fingers rapped on the desk a few times. "Jasmine is having some trouble with the bars, she forgot to milk herself again and now she can't get a decent rep in because A, she's leaking all over and the mat is wet, and B, her tits are so big she can't get the bar low enough." Gardiel took a deep breath and cracked her neck. "Haley, Donna, Bart, you're on Baster, get that booth clean in 10 minutes after he's done. Nikki, Samuel and I will go to Jasmine, go get the heavy milker and... 6 canisters, the 20 gallon kind, so take the heavy loader and contact the delivery guy to get the milk later tonight. She should be fine for half a day after that."

With a snap of her fingers, the zebra stood up at her full 7 feet and 2 inches of amazonian height, dressed just enough to go to the front desk from time to time and welcome new customers or deal with problems from the outside, though even those clothes and her fifty years of age did not do anything to hide the fact that she had been at the top of the bodybuilding world in her prime. The staff was not small by any way, most being trainers, weightlifters or built big already, but she was just bigger and heavier. Her hooves clacked loudly on the floor.

"Oh, right, I was forgetting." She snapped her fingers and stopped. "Kriss, go and organize the locker. Samael just went in there and left in a hurry, he's a messy guy when he has time to get his stuff together, I already saw the chaos in there. He has left for a trip so get whatever he forgot into a bag and we'll give it back to him once he returns in a week."

"Of course, ma'am, I'll be sure to get everything in order as soon as possible." The one who replied was a comfortably dressed rainbow boa, though she had a tight shirt that contrasted with the pants that she wore.

"And if you do feel like doing something weird, don't get caught." Gardiel smirked and left the room as the boa licked her chops and hurried to the locker room.

As soon as she got to the larger-than-average door after getting a mop and bucket and a large airtight container, she took out a sign that read 'cleaning in progress' and slapped it on the entrance. When she entered, he took a deep breath and smiled, taking in the reek of Felkin in the air as her pants began to dampen at the front, all that before she even opened her eyes and witnessed the chaos left behind: a pile of clothes rested on a steel bench designed to withstand several thousands of pounds of weight, most of them soaked with sweat, shoes big enough to be classified as weapons and a 2 foot tall water bottle still half full. Now, anyone in any other gym might have protested about the lack of manners on the customer's side, especially considering the floor was not just messy from clothes and various other items but also covered in a inch-thick layer of thick precum, however, at Hardman's this was just about as normal as could be. A gym made for larger-than-average people with larger-than-average needs and larger-than-average accidents, and almost all of those needs and accidents were largely tied to overproductive balls, eternally gushing tits, dense musk, excessively massive cocks and everything else a pervert enjoyed looking at and after.

"Damn, love that big guy." Kriss inhaled and began undressing, putting her clothes into the container in order to avoid them getting dirty during the cleaning process, thus saving on the after-work laundry load in the common room.

When the gym had opened, Gardiel had made the employees wear normal clothes, then moved onto easily washable gym clothes, then sealed suits bought from chemical labs, but things only got more annoying to deal with as more clients signed up, so she had decided to the next best thing: no clothes during cleanup save for non-slip shoes to avoid falling in small lakes of cum or slippery sweat. Had she employed anyone but a bunch of perverts, this move would've had her see the gym shut down, but the staff clearly enjoyed the whole deal and so the system remained.

Now fully naked, horny, heated up and alone, Kriss leaked a thin stream of juices on the already soaked floor, took a deep breath and began her work. She grabbed the rake and the hook, fishing for loose items in the sea of murky fluids, dumping them into a barrel for later cleaning, then once she was sure that there wasn't anything left swimming in gryphon goo, she opened the grates with his employee key card and watched as the drains gurgled and carried several dozen gallons of fluids down the pipes. The gurgling made her only hornier, her pre-covered hand reaching for her absolutely sopping wet slit, gliding her fingers over her folds, letting the pre stick to the scales and seep deeper. Had she not been a species so different from the gryphon she might've gotten pregnant, but the vast interspecies chasm made her feel safe and more aroused as she plunged more fingers into her gash after scooping handfuls of the stuff around her.

It took nearly five minutes for the pre to drain completely, given how dense the stuff was, especially after Samael went for a long workout, and in the meantime Kriss enjoyed herself very much, sitting on the bench, feeling the goo flow around her feet, making them nice and slick and warm while she brazenly fingered herself to a nice orgasm, slowly of course, no need to rush the process when she had so much work to get to. With all the studs and ladies and the chaos, the entire gym was a nightmare for her, as it was for many others, though their reason was the fact that they needed to endure wading through floors inches deep with cum, milk-soaked machines, sweaty seats and more without indulging in the pleasures of it all openly. As such, the few times when there was the chance to kick back and relax on the job, everyone took it. And of course, the locker rooms were the best possible places: isolated, closed, without cameras and abundantly filled with the messiest items and situations in the whole gym. By the time the cum had been mostly drained, with only a good inch left here and there, Kris was basically fisting herself, her legs bent and wrapped behind her head in a most stretchy pretzel-like pose as she pumped a fist inside her gushing slit, her folds completely soaked with frothy cum and juices so much so that her nethers glistened under the light of the lamps above like a disco ball and the reflection of her scales.

She howled and hissed softly, just barely attempting to hide her activities, curling her toes inside her cum-slathered socks, pushing as fast and deep as she could until her body froze and her pussy clamped down with all its strength around her fingers, writhing while the pelvic movements pushed globs of spent gryphon cum out of her folds and down along with the rest of the fluids on the slick floor. For close to a minute she squirmed and only then, after she was spent and sore and happy and sweaty, did Kriss get up and resumed her work. Despite the minutes of draining, there still was a dense film of fluids all over and the grates had done their job keeping loose items from being flushed down, which meant she had to grab the mop, push the cum and pre and sweat all the way into the drains herself and at the same time collect what was left of the gryphon's belongings. She managed to fish out a couple of socks, ruined and most likely worth a lot in the community pool or if she were to stash them away and auction them to some pervert online, and, to her greatest pleasure, a jock, a used one, gryphon sized, absolutely drenched in cum and likely not one that Samael had worn just one day in a row. Kriss bit her lower lip, pondering deeply and heavily for long seconds before she put the jock to her nose and huffed.

The dense, heady, mind-shattering musk hit her full on: if the smell in the locker was dense like honey, this was tar, heavy and potent and laden with not just one day's worth of sweat and likely cum, but several. She huffed again and she smelled something feminine underneath it which meant the guy had done some grinding with his girlfriend while wearing the jock.

"Oh yeah, this one is for my personal stash..." Another sniff, she pulled the cloth tight against her muzzle and licked, sucking on the musky fabric like a lollipop and came, standing perfectly still as her pussy twitched, heated and grew even wetter before gushing, squirting messily all over herself and onto the floor, over and over and over again. It was like an ocean bubbling inside her and coming out in dense spurts. "Yeah, 100000% sure this stays mine for the week." Kriss smiled to herself. "I do wish I could get pregnant from a gryphon at times but then again, I would need to be careful around him." Removing the soaked cloth from her snout, she eyed the bin with the rest of her clothes but, when she was just about to go and toss it in, she hesitated instead. "Hmm..." Kriss pondered for a moment or two, then several, and then decided otherwise: she knelt, lifted one leg and then the other and then wore the baggy, oversized jock, pretending to be Samael. "Aw, it's no fun without having huge balls..."

Were she not a massive pervert, she'd have given up, but Kriss was just that and scoured the locker for something to stuff down the jock. Finding a couple of high-density medicine balls, pun entirely intended, that someone else had forgotten in an open locker, each around twenty pounds crammed into a size roughly the size of a volleyball. She put them in her far too big set of underwear and nodded, noticing the jock happily fitting both with ease and extra space, then added a slick, cum soaked towel rolled into a makeshift sheath and stood proud, hips pumped forward and snapped several photos to send to the work chat. Wearing the faux-junk, the rainbow boa hummed and worked, scraping cum off walls, hosing them down with the high-ower water jet built specifically for messy customers and then began wrapping up everything.

Half an hour after she entered, the door was opened again, the sign outside removed and her clothes back on. However, she did not get rid off the jock nor what she'd stuffed inside, choosing to parade around with her baggy pants occasionally showing the outline of something big, heavy and very male on her female body. The other staff members liked the look and played along, very happy to reach down to grope her 'cock and balls', teases to which Kriss replied with excessively loud moans or grunts, pretending to actually feel the hands caressing her 'junk' and not just a ghost of an impression. The customers chuckled and joined in the fun as well, complimenting her on her size, leaning down to compare with her and so on. And as the support for her prank grew, the more Kriss swore that she could actually feel the hands squeezing down on her 'sheath' or cupping her heavy 'balls' or complimenting her 'virile musk'. And as if that wasn't enough, the weight of her junk began to grow, slowing her down a lot and actually making things harder for her, but she could not stop and take a break as punishment for taking a whole hour to clean the locker room earlier.

Gardiel made her work with that stuff crowding her legs even when her clothes became soaked with precum and milk from an accident between two customers in the weight lifting section, forcing her to go about with sticky pants and a basically see-through shirt that accentuated her perky, B cup tits. She still did her job, admirably so since complaining to her boss did little more than earn her a 'having huge balls ain't always only fun'. Kriss got the message when her faux-sack made her stumble and fall face first into a puddle of cum two inches thick. By that point, Gardiel granted her a change of clothes, to which Kriss was happy to oblige.

She headed for the employee changing room, which was empty since the rest of the staff was not in need of any changes and undressed, tossing her ruined clothes into a hamper and then moved to the jock below, letting it fall at her feet with a hefty, wet, lewd slap which was very much not followed by the thumps of exercise balls or even the soft thud of a towel. Kriss looked down, expecting them to have been essentially glued to her scales with cum, as stuff tended to do when the sperm count of a single sample from one of the customers went into the trillions, but found only a sheath and a hefty pair of balls dangling heavy from her crotch.

"Huh..." Kriss scratched her head in confusion and reached down, trying to pry the clearly fake sack from her body but only let out a whine of pleasure when her hands cupped the melon-sized orbs and squeezed. The moan, followed by the sensation of hands on something that she knew had just been plastic and cloth only one hour before, much less the sensation of feeling something squeeze what was clearly real, made of flesh, heavy and not a prank. "Uhm..." She squeezed again and moaned again, feeling the resistance of real, flesh-and-blood orbs under her fingers: she had explored too many sets of nuts, from small to huge to head-dwarfing, kissed, licked, sniffed and tasted them, to not know what a hefty, cum-packed pair of balls was. "Ok this is... uhm..." Yet it couldn't be, she was a woman, she was female, she did not have balls that weighed twenty pounds each and a sheath that easily added another ten pounds to the whole set. "Yeah this is not right." Kriss let go of her 'sack' and felt gravity drag it back down, letting her feel the sheer weight of what was not just a dream bend her legs down. "Ok let me... sit for a second..."

The rainbow boa sat and immediately felt great relief as the bench took the burden of her 'sack' away, letting her explore the damn thing without the effort of also lifting it up at the same time, which did not help much but it was something at least. Kriss gulped and began exploring, touching, prodding, squeezing, pushing, lifting, moving and testing every nook and cranny of her crotch: from the dense, heavy, gently rumbling and sloshing balls to the wrinkles of her sheath to the way that cock pouch kept her shaft warm and cozy and snug and sloshing in a mix of gryphon cum, sweat and what she knew were dense sheath fluids. But of course, just feeling and touching was not enough, it could all be a dream or a hallucination, which meant there was only one way to be sure of the whole deal: tasting and sniffing.

With her experience, she was confident that doing that would convince her and her perverted and curious sides supported that decision, so, Kriss bent down, wrapping her legs behind her head and plunged her snout inside her sheath, taking a sniff so deep the sides of that soft roll of flesh were pulled taut from the vacuum, flooding her senses with the reek, musk and undeniable truth that she had, in fact, shoved her muzzle into her own sheath. The smell was not entirely Samael's, it was definitely like her own scent, only thicker, heavier and very much male, the feeling of her snout wrapped inside a soft leathery holster and the feeling of said holster spread by her snout working together were impossible to negate. She pulled out and licked, kissed and slobbered, taking whiffs and sniffs and huffs, giving herself the treatment that she had given hundreds, thousands of cocks before, only that now she was able to feel both ends of the deal and not just one.

"Ugh, I need ten baths today. I can't wait to get centaur ball sweat out of my fur today." Haley slammed open the door to the employee changing room and headed for the shower, only to turn the corner and find Kriss getting dressed back with new clothes. "Done already?

"Ah, ehm, yes, I slipped in a puddle and got a little messy." Kriss stuttered, doing her best to make her pants settle in a comfortable way around her junk. "Gardiel let me change but it took a little more than expected." The boa blushed softly, pushing a hand down to fix a nut that was trying to escape from the soaked jock.

"Of course, of course..." The bat grinned and smiled, closing in on the snake and cupping her balls, immediately hearing a pleasurable moan and a happy grunt in response. "How I wish these were real." Haley continued to handle, squeeze and grope, enjoying the very realistic sounds escaping from Kriss' lips.

"S-s-same..." She did her best to keep them to a minimum but no matter how much she tried, the real, tangible feeling of something playing with her junk was not something she was equipped to deal with. Her cock, which had cooperated wonderfully up until then, was now beginning to protest and show its need, twitching and swelling inside her sheath. "Sorry, uhm, really sorry Haley but I ha-have to... uhm, I have to go home, stuff to deal with and whatnot."

"By all means then, please, I'd hate to be the one to stand between you and Samael's jock." The bat chuckled and closed in, whispering in Kriss' ear. "However, next time you find something like this, I call dibs."

"I-I-I... my airtight canister still has a couple of socks and some towels I snuck away..." Kriss gulped, squeezing her muscles to try and keep her cock from rocketing out of her sheat right then and there, distracting Haley with a juicy piece of bait, sacrificing the rest of her haul for the day in order to secure herself an escape.

"Fine fine, I won't keep you waiting here. Go home and finger yourself silly." Haley spanked the rainbow boa's rump and then rushed to the canisters, opening Kriss' and stashing cum-soaked socks into her bra.

Kriss did not wait a single second more, rushing out of the room, through the hallways, out of the gym, then walked back in, clocked out, walked out a second time and then hopped on the first bus as quickly as fifty extra pounds of cock and balls allowed her to achieve without falling on the ground again. And when she was finally sitting on the bus, the found herself having to contend with another problem: her smell and the not invisible bulge inside her loose slacks. Hardman's gym might have been friendly to those who were bigger and more well equipped, but the rest of the city wasn't quite as open, which was exactly why the gym existed in the first place. Kriss found herself being stared at, ogled at even, her balls visible through her pants as was her sheath, but while she knew that such attention was not the erotic, envious, 'pull your clothes down and let us see' sort of attention, her body did not and reacted in the most inappropriate manner. A trouser snake of absurd proportions snuck down her pant leg, slick and wet, which meant her clothes soaked in the stuff really quickly and really thoroughly, right there, right then, right in public. But she did not realize it, for her brain was too busy trying to understand what had happened to notice what was happening.

It took half a dozen stops and a few tens of people noticing her bulging, throbbing, cock-shaped swell down her thigh for her to finally figure out that she had sported the first boner of her life on a bus, after work and reeking of cum and sex and sweat like hell, worse than normal. Now, were it just another day, she might have simply shrugged off, after all that was one of the best parts of working at Hardman's, but today she could not enjoy the reek she brought with her. In a rush, blushing madly, Kriss did her best to fix her situation, but she had no purse big enough to put on her thighs, no jacket since the weather was nice and no backpack either, so, she had no choice but to shove her hand down her pants, fish her cock out quickly and stash it between her tits. Of course, it wasn't so easy: she did not know how to hide her actions, her cock seemed to be over fifteen inches long and she had basically no tits at all. Her first, second and third attempts only made her look like she was trying to sneakily jack off on the bus, forcing her to endure until her stop, rush down and bolt straight up to her apartment.

She immediately took of all her clothes, excluding the jock she'd stolen and watched as her cock flopped out in the open, massive, heavy, hefty, like a third arm stuck to her crotch, no, even bigger than that, like a third leg, a flared, black and pink mottled length, with something even thicker stuck in her sheath. She touched it and hissed as the damn thing jumped and belched a fat wad of pre for three whole yards across the hall and the living room, splattering on the couch with a wet splat. Kriss bit her lips and headed for the closet, cock preceding her by a good while, swaying with her every step, stinking up the place already with its dense musk as her balls sloshed audibly. The closet confronted her with another challenge: getting on her knees and searching with the damn thing bobbing in front of her, but she managed, mostly by tucking it under her arm and keeping it there. By the time she found the box with the sewing kit and got back up, the floor behind her was slippery with a huge amount of precum, pints, dozens of pints maybe.

"Alright you little bastard... let me see how big you are..." Inside the sewing kit there was a measure tape, the flexible kind and she immediately put it to good use, by placing one end at the rim of her sheath and extending it to the flare. "Damn..." She could not believe her eyes but no matter how many times she did the measuring, her cock did not grow or shrink but remained a firm twenty two inches and a quarter, four inches thick at the base and just a little less behind the flare. "I have... a monstercock..." She owned a small scale for food in the kitchen but she knew already that it'd not be of use, considering just how heavy that third leg was. "Fuck this is awesome."

She let it go and flexed her muscles, watching the thing rise to full mast and then let go, watching it fall back down under its own weight, stopped only by its stiffness to form a graceful, sultry, twitching arch belching precum from time to time. Her balls were cradled inside the jock, each orb twice as heavy as that monster of a dick, crowding between her legs, sloshing, churning, staining her inner thighs with a thin but dense layer of ballsweat.

"Mhh yeah this is absolutely amazing... there's pornstars with less cock than what I have." Kriss played around with it, slowly walking to the living room and sitting on the couch, legs spread wide and balls comfortably resting on the cushion, sinking inside it. Her hands did not stop exploring, her fingers tracing the course of her thick veins from sheath to flare and back down, counting all the pink specks on her dark ebony flesh one by one, testing the stiffness of her medial ring and the sponginess of her flare. "A magnificent cock." She spoke with admiration bordering on love for the wonderful make of her newly grown spire, to fault her was just not fair and frankly very rude.

However, merely watching, exploring and observing was not enough, and how could it be, with so much bountiful flesh before her eyes, inches away from her tongue and nose and her hungry hungry mouth? When she parted her lips and placed them upon her flare she tasted herself and flavour exploded on her tongue: she was certainly flexible enough to bend herself into a pretzel and eat herself out any day of the week, but not having to even crane her neck to get to her cock, to simply bend it closer to her and kiss and lick and suckle, oh how convenient it was, how wonderfully easy and tasty was her flesh. One thing was to dig inside her pussy and eat herself out for an hour, the challenge, the effort, it was a hard-earned reward, but her cock was so... easy, so simple: she stroked it, it twitched, she licked it, it throbbed, she kissed every inch of it with her very own lips in long, slow, measured pecks, it gushed, she drank from it, it gave her more and more and more.

Pints of pre oozed down her chin, soaking into the couch below, strands hanging onto her small nipples and dripping along with the rest, her cushion already a hot mess, as was the whole floor under her, but she hardly cared about small details like a soaked couch or a floor she'd have to mop ten times over to remove the stickiness of precum out of the wooden boards. The one thing that mattered now was enjoying herself to the fullest. Kriss leaned over, hugging her cock like a lover, then let herself fall on her side, rolled over and bent her legs, using her soles to gently, gently, play with her sack while she slobbered over her shaft's every inch with wild abandon. She curled, stretched, twisted, almost defying the laws of physics in an attempt to lick herself to a mirror-shine, a task foiled time and time again thanks to her leaky spire constantly oozing more savoury, dense, tingling pre to lick and swallow.

Sadly, Kriss was not used to the feeling of an approaching climax from the other side, only from the side of the spectator: she was not prepared at all for the quick, ruthless, catastrophic rise of her orgasm. One moment she was attempting to fit all of her flare into her mouth, the next her cock spasmed, twitched and then belched, a pillar of spunk surging from the depths of her sack in one powerful pump, so quick she barely had the time to realize what was happening before her first cumshot filled her mouth to the brim and spilled from her lips. What felt like gallons were rocketing out of her wide cum pipe, trying to cram themselves into her throat but unable to as she coughed and let her shaft slip free from her control and free to spray its load everywhere around her.

The rainbow boa squirmed unable to even attempt to reign it in, and honestly, utterly unwilling to do it, for it was an added layer of pleasure to see her python sway and throb and surge and gush left and right in spurts two fingers thick over and over and over. Her walls, her ceiling, the tv, the front door, herself and anything in the path between her fat flare and the rest of the world. For over five minutes she came, five minutes of pure pleasure that she wasn't used to even during her most powerful orgasms, hell, her record for longest climax had barely been two minutes before and it had been a short, intense peak that slowly waned. This was a constant high that only grew when the next batch of ball batter rose from her cock and splattered around her. Five minutes of cumming and cumming and cumming and when she was finally done, her shaft twitched one last time and then it fell onto her chest with a wet thud, heavy and spent, leaving her wet and spent and her living room trashed, ruined and perfect.

"Fuck..." Kriss barely had the energy to get up even after resting for what must have been a whole hour, her chest still heaving and surging, her body warm under layers of cum, her senses filled with cock, cum, sweat and balls. Her home had been a neat place, a little musky given her job, but orderly and even when she fisted herself silly on the couch she hardly reached such levels of chaos. "Damn damn damn..." The boa wiped an oozing trail of seed from her forehead and licked it off her hand, murring as the dense taste of her seed sizzled on her tongue. "Is this what hyper males feel when they nut?" She was familiar enough with the workings of men and herms to know this was not normal by any means. "Or..." Kriss struggled to get herself sitting again, reach for her lower half and slowly, slowly peel the jock off her balls. It came off with a deluge of trapped cum and a wonderful sound of squelching of soaked cloth. "Is it your fault?"

Of course, the jock did not answer, it merely hung there, suspended between her fingers, soaked with cum, sweat, pre and whatever else in a dripping mess so thoroughly soaked she doubted even a hundred laundry cycles would get the smell and stains out of the fabric. Not that she planned to wash it, it wasn't hers to begin with and she'd return it by the time Samael showed up again at the gym. In the meantime, however, it was all hers and she'd make the most of it.

Not immediately though: Kriss stood up, shaking a little as the aftermath of her orgasm still hung within her body, legs and arms like cum-based gelatine, just about managing to stand up even when her balls, no longer supported by the couch, found the irresistible pull of gravity beckoning them lower. She let out a soft grunt, having imagined that after five whole minutes of unending spurts and finger-thick ropes of seed would have at the very least made those orbs lighter, yet they felt just as heavy as before, or maybe more. If only she had a proper scale to weigh them and figure out the truth.

The boa stepped away from the chaos of the living room and took a few moments to drink in the display of virility before her eyes: cum everywhere, absolutely everywhere. The ceiling oozed fat globs, ropes painted the walls left and right, the books on the shelf above the tv and near the coffee table had been ruined beyond salvation so covered in cum they were that the pages looked puffy already, the furniture, the pictures of her family and it only made the situation more arousing. Hell, she'd given the painting she'd made of her own mother a fresh pearl necklace and found the look extremely fitting for the older rainbow boa. Her cock twitched and rose again, not even three minutes after it had stopped turning her home in a steamy sauna bathed in cum, already leaking a steady stream of pre onto the wall beneath the painting.

"I think I could get used to this..." Kriss walked for a while, enjoying the feeling of her junk swaying, bobbing, plapping against her thighs without the interference and support of her stolen jock. "Oh wait a sec..." She stopped in the middle of the hallway, spreading her legs as a hand darted for the space between her fat, heavy hanging balls and her tailhole: as soon as she failed to find the familiar, wet, puffy slit she'd trained over the years to take any manner of thick cock, the boa sighed in a weird sort of relief. "Can't get myself pregnant then, that's good... no need to worry about that..." Kriss paused to think again. "I'll have to be careful about the opposite though." However, she quickly realised that was not something to worry about right then and there, not unless she planned to get dressed, get out and go for a night out with someone else. "Self-care evening coming right up."

Naked and covered in spunk, Kriss decided not to go for a shower but rather keep delving deeper in depravity, desiring deep down to explore her body in as much depth as she possibly could just in case this was all a dream, a lie or worse, temporary. One could not fault her, after all, for wanting to make sure every second mattered when the future was so uncertain. She grabbed some of the toys scattered around the apartment, dildos, plugs, vibrators and dragged them back in the living room, tossing them on the coffee table, thus skipping the need for lube of any kind as her spent cum immediately clung to the soft silicone or waterproof shells of the stuff she'd bought. It was all meant for her pussy, with her being a size queen seeking the biggest and thickest thrill, which sadly meant her ass wasn't as skilled or trained, but still stretchy enough to allow her to get some of her toys in.

The boa eyed the vibrators, licking her lips with hunger as she sat on the couch once again, her ass displacing a healthy amount of cooling spunk beneath her, giving her tailhole a gentle, warm kiss that made her shiver with anticipation. Before starting, however, she scooped huge wads of seed and happily, thoroughly, slathered her entire cock in that dense, tingling goo, rubbing gently, carefully, lovingly every single last inch of her spire, all twenty two inches of it, watching as her flesh twitched and throbbed, slick with sweat and saliva from before. Only when her length had been polished to a lewd shine did Kriss began to do the same to the rest of her lower half. Her balls were next, and to give them the love they needed, she curled up in a pretzel once again, burying her muzzle in between those orbs with glee and passion, sniffing them, feeling their surface churn up more and more fresh spunk right underneath the tough yet soft scaled skin. They weren't just big, they were massive, heavy, dense, powerfully charged with a reek of raw virility so potent she felt her mind waver with each sniff she stole. She kissed them as her hands rubbed the product of their work all over, soaking her scales in a dozen layers of potent batter until she could feel the tingling of her swimmers from outside and inside. Then she moved behind, lifting her ass against the backrest of the couch, putting herself in that position any male with interest towards themselves but not enough cock to succeed had attempted. With her sweaty rump in the air she slathered her pucker with cum, playing with the edges, shoving a finger or two in and thus, with great pleasure, discovering she could fit them easily.

Her arousal spiked as she added one more finger, then two and then her entire fist inside her rump, her digits curling within her ass, spreading, touching, teasing, delving ever deeper until she was curled up over herself, hand so deep inside her rump she'd crammed her whole forearm inside all the way to the elbow. Kriss felt her fist bulge her stomach, she saw the deformation of her scales right next to her head and she felt every inch of her squeeze and twitch around her invading limb. Her balls and cock were basically obscuring her sight on all directions, so tightly she'd bent herself, her smell, her stench, her taste and her heft weighted down in a wonderfully oppressive way, as if a stud had sat on her face and allowed her to enjoy herself to full satisfaction, yet the stud was her, which meant the pleasure was twice as powerful and great. With her tongue she resumed exploring her flesh, her nose burning with the mind-shattering musk wafting from her sweaty, cum-slathered flesh. Oh how dense, potent and... raw it was, how personal, how... unique. Normally she had to contend with the needs and desires of the male or herm whose body the junk she was lovingly worship was attached, what they wanted from the whole ordeal, what they needed from her, but this was her body in her free time in her home and without anyone but her to decide what to do, when to do it and for how long.

Kriss lost herself in what was a debauched, near narcissistic self-worship of such proportions that she failed once again to notice that her orgasm was quickly approaching and was caught in the middle of it before she could find a way to deal with it: with her nose firmly buried in the cleft between her nuts, the boa felt her body spasm and her cock surge the second her sack gurgled and shrank a single inch, cum belching behind her in a column nearly two fingers thick, a rope carrying literal gallons with such speed and power she felt the recoil make her cock slap her snout over and over and over again. Yet she did not let go, doubling down on her sniffing and kissing and licking as her shaft delivered another absurd amount of cum directly onto the couch, the flare wedged between two pillows and the cushion, injecting her batter directly into the stuffing and fabric like a most perverted syringe.

Although she hadn't managed to prepare herself, she wasn't as taken aback by the sheer power of her orgasm: with great effort she began fisting herself, rolling on the couch until she managed to get one of the mid-sized dildos, a mere foot of silicone perfection in the shape of a canine cock that she placed in front of her gushing cockhead and lubed up with enough spunk to look like a melting strawberry ice cream before lining it up with her pucker and cramming the whole thing in. As a pure female, Kriss had loved that knot, so wide and thick and perfect to keep her pussy nicely spread, filling her, but now, there was one element she had completely forgotten and that was her prostate. It was natural that she did not take that into account, she'd lived thirty whole years without one, how would she remember that it sat in the depths of her ass while her head and reason swam in a roiling ocean of ball batter? And so, when her newly born organ was gently mashed by the stiff bulb of her toy, adding another layer of pleasure that lifted her senses and pleasure into a whole new dimension, she could only cum harder than before. If her orgasm was already a geyser of frothy white, then this was akin to a spillway opening, a mind boggling rush of spunk that spread her cock so wide it looked half again as thick and twice as heavy than before.

And as if that wasn't quite enough, the knot mashing into her pleasure button awakened something else she'd forgotten about, something she was slightly more familiar with but still had no idea she possessed in this new body until it spilled from her sheath, ten inches wide, stiff, heavy, slick with fluids of the most dense flavours her cock pouch could concoct. Her own knot throbbed as it attempted to tie her with something that unfortunately wasn't even there, though that did not make the whole deal any less pleasurable. The light pressure around those twin bulbs made Kriss cum even harder, somehow, pushing her to a superlative height of pure white hot bliss as a beam of pure white hot cum surged by the gallon from her flare onto herself. With effort, now that her ass was plugged nice and tight by the thick dildo, Kriss found some strength to untangle herself and grab hold of her cock, open her mouth and cram the flare past her lips. Her throat bulged, not with the thickness of her flesh but with the immense output of her sack as it pumped literal gallons of seed down her gullet and into her stomach. Before she hadn't been able to last more than a second or two, now, however, she managed to last a whole ten seconds, furiously swallowing mouthfuls of cum every moment or two as her cock flooded her. Jets squirted from her lips, her belly bulged not only with the heft of the dildo but also the sloshing load she was ingesting. Unfortunately, thirsty as she was for her own batter, she could not hold on much longer, not used to the volume she was producing and pumping out, forced to push her flare out and allow it to shower her yet again.

For the second time, Kriss lay there, cumming, shivering, twitching and witnessing her virility without the ability or the skill to enjoy herself even further, forced to cum her brains out with no control over any part of it besides where to aim her cock so and what to turn into a cum-slathered piece of furniture. She came and came and came, reaching the peak quickly and hovered there for minutes on end. Only by the third minute of unending bliss did she manage to get some semblance of motor function, which she used to push herself to a sitting position, cock draped over her shoulder and promptly began hosing the front door with rope after rope after rope after rope of dense batter that anyone who heard it from outside confused for a water hose at full power. She caressed her cock, licked her cock, kissed and sniffed her cock, cradling in her diminutive cleavage for the three more minutes it took for her to come down from her high and slump into a pleasurable coma. Her stomach was full, her mouth tasted like cock and cum and sweat and balls, her nose crammed with the stench of herself, her body sore, tired and battered by the tide of her virility.

Slowly, careful not to slip, Kriss dragged herself out of the living room and into the bedroom, still covered in cum and sweat. In her tiredness she did not notice her foot had snagged the jock which lay around her ankle like a perverted bracelet. She picked it up and, since she was not one to sleep naked, put it on correctly, allowing her balls to sit snugly in the soft, soaked pouch before collapsing on the mattress like a spent vibrator before drifting off to a most wonderful sleep.

Her sleep lasted far too long, so long that when she woke up her mouth was parched like she'd been eating sand and her body was sore and cranky, so she fumbled to reach for the water glass she had near the bed at all times and, with her eyes still closed, attempted to sate her thirst. Kriss did her best to try and aim true but it was hard, with her arms feeling like gelatine, refusing to fully wake up until she had something to drink. Eagerly she awaited for the water to slide down her tongue, but even when the liquid touched her lips and poured into her mouth, even after a dozen gulps, she felt not one bit less thirsty and only when her sleep-addled brain sent her the signals that the water she was chugging was dense, heavy, salty and thick like glue, did she realise something was off. In that moment she opened her eyes and was met with her cock staring back at her, flare an inch away from her face, maybe less, the gaping cumslit in the middle of that spongy lump like a deep unnatural eye, leaking a steady, impossibly endless stream of precum onto her tits and belly. She looked into the glass and saw that the same stuff leaking from her cock sloshed lazily in there.

She groaned and put down the glass, still thirsty, still unwilling to leave her bed. With a throb and a huff, Kriss opened her mouth and latched her lips around her gargantuan flare and let the stream of pre leak past her lips, sloshing in her mouth before she gulped. Once, twice, thrice, each gulp made her body wake up, her thirst ever present, forcing her to drink more and morea and more, and the more she drank the more her cock oozed until she was flooding her maw with pints of the stuff a second and still she felt no satisfaction beyond a bubbling need inside her nuts. Her flow continued to rise, higher and higher until she was sure her body, for she could no longer swallow all of that fluid, was pumping over a gallon a second of the most tantalising without any sign of stopping. Not that she wanted it to stop, or was sure it could stop. But after what felt like an hour and five gallons of ball batter crammed into her stomach, she was still thirsty as hell and couldn't hold on anymore.

The boa pushed herself up and felt something ooze between her fingers, her body sliding off a thick film of dense fluids, then put her feet and felt them splash in a puddle of warm and tingly fluids, all of which felt oddly like the precum she'd just chugged several gallons of. She blinked and looked around, her neurons firing inside a stew of musk and pre and sweat and lust, connecting the dots together with trembling yarn lines.

"Oh." That was just about as much brain power as she could spare for her speech as she realised that her entire bedroom, everything around her, the bed, the walls, the window, the bed, the curtains, the pillows, the wardrobe, the bed, the floor, the bed were all so thoroughly plastered in ball batter that the room looked like the locker room at the gym after a horde of studs passed through. "Oh... yeah I guess that makes sense." In a way she wasn't surprised, not after what she did yesterday. The notion and the memories made her cock throb and sway, flopping forward and continuing its endless spurting, the sounds of dense fluids splattering on every surface it was aimed at constant and monotonous.

Of course, just because she wasn't shocked didn't mean that she wasn't aroused by it, or felt pride or lust or anything else, she merely accepted that it had happened and that she'd have to deal with it in some way, or not, depending on how lazy she felt. In that moment, she felt so lazy she hardly shrugged and merely got up, waddled to the bathroom, dunked her head under the sink, opened the tap and let the cold water wake her up and sate her thirst at the same time. A deluge of pre was washed off her scales, giving her drink a salty taste but far less than the pure load of batter as before, and by the time she was done, the bathroom was covered in a layer of fluids already. Again she shrugged, wiping her muzzle with a towel before tossing said towel on the ground, then headed for the kitchen. Kriss made herself some quick breakfast, nothing that was more complex than grabbing cereals, a bowl, some milk and a spoon to eat everything. In the minute it took her to find everything, which included opening a new bottle of milk, much like the bathroom her kitchen had gained a puddle of pre that continued to spread. Hampered by her melon-sized balls and the full bowl of breakfast, Kriss waddled to the living room, sat her ass on the couch, displacing yesterday's cum after it had soaked into the cushion and turned on the tv.

The 10 am news popped in her field of view, droning about some boring stuff as always. She never listened to it but it was a good way to wake her brain up simply by letting her pretend someone else was in the room with her and was talking with her, forcing her to hold up a one-way conversation. Like every other morning, she eventually did wake up, picking up on some of the bits and pieces of information regurgitated at her by the news anchor, and eventually she was fully up and running, which was the exact moment when she noticed the time. 10 am. Not 6 am. 10 am.

"Fucccckkkkkkk..." Kriss groaned, already imagining the scolding she'd get from Gardiel as soon as she got to the gym. However, that did not stop her from finishing her cereal: she already was 2 hours late, a few more minutes wouldn't... "Ah crap... yeah that won't... ugh." And then she remembered the state of... well... her: she reeked of cum more than if she'd spent a few hours working in the locker or scraping one of the centaurs' stalls after their runs. It'd take hours to get herself cleaned up enough to be presentable and that would compound her lateness even more, furthermore... "What to do about this..." She cupped her balls through the beyond-soaked jock, feeling them twice, thrice as heavy as the day before, maybe more.

The fact that she'd not noticed that before, while she was carrying them around the house, was a little shocking, their growth however, not so much. It wasn't as if she'd never spent time with a hyper or a customer from the gym and dragged them home, she knew what a night of not cumming could do for one of them. This happening to her was inconvenient: she did not have anything to quickly milk herself dry, which would take... hours? She wasn't actually sure how long any of them took to empty their balls every day, but judging by the fact that she'd leaked dozens and dozens of gallons since she got out of bed and sat down, then leaked just as much while she watched the news, which wasn't even her orgasm, just the idle output, gave her no inkling of a shadow of an idea of how long she'd need to cum. But if yesterday was any indication, she would flood the entire apartment before she was halfway done. Instead of feeling dejected or annoyed or even worried, Kriss bit her lips and gave her long, fat, fatter actually, cock, a good grope. Like her balls it felt heavier and thicker and... longer at that: twenty two inches were about enough to reach her chest, now she could lick the flare directly without even craning her neck. Hell, she could suck herself off even more comfortably than before. Her balls churned and her cock twitched in approval, a resolution blossoming in her mind as she rushed to the entrance and to the phone she'd left in her clothes before she'd undressed herself.

Gardiel's messages popped up immediately, growing increasingly frustrated as the lack of response on Kriss' part irritated the zebra mare more and more, mixing with calls from her colleagues to ask if she was sick or something had happened, which of course was half true. She replied with a series of trite words, mostly about her having overextended herself with the joke from the day before and carrying forty extra pounds for hours had made her legs super sore, which meant she couldn't do much beyond sit and rest for a day. Gardiel was not happy but since Kriss was not a trainer, only a very fit and somewhat overqualified janitor, she couldn't go and blame her if the Hardman's gym name was besmirched by such an accident. Of course, this was the opposite from the truth: her legs had never been better, hell, she could hardly feel the weight of her balls as if she was only carrying big but light sloshing balloons. Barely ten minutes after she got her work stuff settled, she slumped back on the couch, wading through an ever growing puddle of precum at her feet. The windows around her were more and more fogged up by the heat and musk, which made her hornier and in turn made her leak more as her junk gurgled and sloshed.

"So, let's get some supplies going first..." Kriss pulled up the internet and browsed some of the sites she heard the customers at the gym mention from time to time. "Uhm... ok I definitely need a bunch of condoms." She stopped for a moment and looked down, first at the downright absurd amount of pre she was gushing, then at her size. "Gotta take measurements again first." Luckily the tape was still close to her. "Damn. Twenty... uh... twenty six inches long... five and a half inches wide. Heavens, it's really bigger than yesterday, huh." Four extra inches in length and one and a half in girth might not sound much when compared to what she had suddenly gained yesterday, but, if this was not a one time event, four inches a day every single day, it'd add up quickly. For a few minutes she lost herself in the smells, the look, the heft of her gushing junk and, in a moment of raw debauchery, she pulled her cock close to her mouth and wrapped her lips around it.

Sucking herself off, Kriss resumed her browsing for hyper-friendly stuff, clothes first, big clothes, strong clothes. She had been given a modest breast size and, being born female, she was very much not familiar with any of the stuff a herm or a hyper, much less a combination of the two, would need. She merely grabbed stuff she thought could help: an extra large supply of condoms, jocks and pants stretchy enough to not tear when she'd inevitably popped a boner, a kevlar-nylon harness to strap her junk in place without damaging her scales, all with same day shipping, extra extra express. She'd drunk a couple more gallons of pre when she finally placed the order and whined as the money left her bank account, yet she didn't feel full or bloated, only slightly pent up, but the jock kept everything nice and contained. Next was the more... fun stuff: toys, toys, toys. Fortunately for her she'd had the bad luck of being forced to hold meetings with Gardiel to discuss whether or not to purchase and install milking machines, breeding mounts and various equipment meant for the customers so that they'd be able to get a workout in and also empty their balls or tits. However, the plan required the refurbishing of the entire gym to allow for piping and storage of fluids and also the size of the machines themselves, hence it had been scrapped after only a few hours of talking, but she remembered the company and its range of products.

Busy scrolling, searching, comparing prices and checking her budget, the boa's cock twitched and throbbed, her balls filling the stretchy jock more and more, backing up with each passing second until they were spreading her legs wide and preventing her from closing them at all. Her shaft surged, quickly and efficiently, pushing against her lips, an inch and then two of extra growth, forcing its way into her mouth with such swiftness Kriss barely registered the fact that her idle sucking was turning into a sloppy kiss and then into an attempt to welcome that spongy bulb within her maw. As her jaw distended over her flare, letting it slip past her lips with a wet, noisy, chaotic pop, letting her cum pipe gush into her throat directly, Kriss continued to browse, not even realising that she'd slowly began to facefuck herself, drawn to it by the simple availability of so much cock right in front of her and the fact that she, apparently, could just do that with such ease she didn't even notice. Almost as if her cock was rewriting her entire biology. But of course she wasn't aware of anything but the screen in front of her and the array of mounts and appliances she could buy to make the future more fun and pleasant. Before making the final tap to buy a brand new XXL fleshlight and a dozen bottles of lube, an extra sleeve in case she broke the first, she also put in the cart a special vacuum to get cum out of cushions and mattresses and whatever else could soak up excessive amounts of ball batter and refuse to let it go. Once the payment was finalized, she tossed the phone on the coffee table, completely forgetting it was still covered in a layer of cum from yesterday.

Sometime between accidentally cramming a six inch wide flare into her mouth and making several thousand dollars' worth of online shopping all at once, she'd noticed that she had what felt like five inches of cock tickling the back of her throat and, instead of pulling out, with a murr and a deep breath, she pushed her snout further along her shaft. After all, she was already in the middle of it, her gag reflex had long since been trained out of her after many encounters of big dicked studs around the world, and she tasted so very very very good. Her tongue danced, pushed down by the sheer girth of her maleness, licking herself silly, her flare ever deeper, breaching into her gullet, down down down until she was banging at the door of her stomach. One more push, her flare broke that barrier, the medial ring kissing her lips popped past them, her whole body lurched forward and suddenly her cock was fully hilted inside her, her snout was inside her sheath sniffing the thickest musk, surrounded by warmth and dense fluids. She felt herself cumming, pumping, twitching, gushing, but not a drop of cum spilled past her esophagus. Kriss whined, lifting her ass up and began to hump at her own mouth, thrusting to the best of her ability, and still only precum spilled from her flare. It sloshed inside her gut, though the size of her belly did not grow much, in fact, it didn't grow one inch. Not one. She got better and better at thrusting, learning how to use her hips, where to push, how to squeeze her throat and shove her snout down her sheath at the same time to make herself feel pleasure far greater than anything before and still she didn't cum. Her knot swelled in front of her lips, slipping out of her sheath just before she could accidentally knot herself stuck to her cock, preventing her a world of problems. She squeezed it with her thighs, hoping that she could get some assistance like the day before but no matter how much she played with those stiff bulbs, she did not get anything beyond wonderfully pleasurable pangs of liquid electricity to shoot up her cock and into her brain.

Not until all the moving, grinding, sniffing and caressing made her jock slip off her balls, hanging between her legs, wet and soaked with sweat and cum. Her balls swung high and then plapped back on her ass, smacking herself in a most lewd and perverse way, freed from their resilient prison. And then, only then, did she cum. A torrent, a raging river of batter rushed out of her sack, surging through her piping, past her taint, her lips, her throat and straight into her stomach like a bomb, bloating her, but the stiffness of her cock and the not insignificant fact that it was buried as deep in her gullet as it could go make her pudge deform around her length, gurgling and sloshing the more cum she crammed inside. Gallons a second, dozens of gallons a second, far more than physics allowed, as if her stomach was a black hole made to stash away cum. Minutes passed and she just continued to cum and cum and cum, her mind slowly growing accustomed to the whole deal enough to allow her to get her ass back up again and resume throatfucking herself. As if experiencing such a strong orgasm wasn't enough, as if feeling both her throat squeeze and her cock being squeezed couldn't already make things heavenly, she added a third wonderfully raunchy layer. The knot twitched against her nose, fat, huge, fat, covered in juices, beckoning her, begging her to let it in her lips and seal herself on it until every last droplet of seed had been dumped inside her stomach. But even if she wanted, she couldn't: it was just too big, too imposing, too much for her to take.

Her couch groaned and creaked while she thrust and thrust, jamming her snout into her cock pouch time and time again, her balls shrinking and relaxing dozens upon dozens of times, pumping enough cum to fill one two, several bathtubs at least, each drop deposited lovingly and passionately inside her stomach. Kriss fucked herself until her legs and her back could take not one more second and she fell down. Almost as if by design, the pressure in her stomach was enough to propel her cock out of her maw, swinging wildly all over when the flare finally slipped back out, seven inches wide, her entire cock fatter and girthier. Too tired to move or do anything, she lay there for a while, cumming, moaning, writhing, caressing her cock like it was a pet stuck to her groin, a pet currently dumping enough cum to drown a grown person in seconds, every second, constantly, incessantly. Her balls shrank slightly, an inch here, an inch there, and still her orgasm was strong and immense and absolutely unreasonable. Five minutes and then six and seven, finally, ten, still she was cumming, her apartment was a flooded mess, her walls, already caked in batter from the day before, were now so heavily painted with spunk she feared the structural stability was compromised.

The kitchen chairs had been pushed all over by the tide, her paintings ripped off their supports, windows so thoroughly covered not an inkling of light bled past the sloppy, sperm-packed batter. Had she not turned on the lights, she'd be in almost total darkness. Eleven minutes, twelve, fifteen, hundreds upon hundreds of gallons of seed spilled. Eventually she found the strength once again, lifting herself to a sitting position while she let her fat spire flop on her lap and over the armrest, aimed at the hallway and the bedroom opposite the entrance, the geyser, now aimed properly, no longer splattered left and right but rather began to assault at the place where she slept, encroaching upon the layers of pre spilled overnight.

"Ohhhhhh fucckkkk..." Kriss groaned, patting her belly, her fattened belly, her cum-stuffed, sloshing, satisfied belly, watching it shrink visibly as the minutes passed and her orgasm eventually died down. Seventeen minutes after she'd begun flooding her stomach, the last dribble of cum oozed out of her gargantuan flare, flying a couple yards away into an inch-deep lake of spunk, making a tiny splash. "Damn..." She burped softly, the taste of cum and cock and cocksweat sizzling on her tongue like barbecue meat on a grill. "So this is what happens if I don't cum all night?" She burped again and straightened her back. "I hope not or else I'll need to wake up two hours early just to deal with it every single day."

The rainbow boa stood up, stretching her sore legs, refusing to acknowledge the chaos around her even as dollops of cum fell from the ceiling, creating ripples and the soft pitpat that made her remember of that time she went spelunking with friends and found an underground lake. The darkness, the dankness of the air, the fact that she was tired and wanted a shower only added to the immersion in her memories. Unlike that time, she could open the windows and let some fresh air in and head to the bathroom to get herself cleaned up. Her cock wobbled and swayed, ever so gently retreating into its sheath now that it'd belched the last gallon-sized wad of spunk onto her feet.

Showering helped some, not completely: she was just too messy and no amount of soap could make the stench go away, not the soap she had now anyways, only help remove the thick gunk sticking to her scales. And, as soon as she was out of the shower box, her feet splashed in the leftover cooling pool of ball batter, rendering part of her success completely moot as the stuff clung to her feet and soles. Kriss sighed and began debating with herself how to best clean up her place. At that moment, the doorbell rang. Confused, she headed there, forgetting she was naked.

"Hello ma'am, we are here with your delivery." The deer on the other side of the door did not seem to mind much about her nakedness or even the tide of cum that rushed out of her door the second she opened it, merely handing her a clipboard and a pen to sign. "Hope we didn't make you wait too long."

"You... what time is it?" She asked, scribbling her name a couple times.

"Currently it's 2 pm." The deer smiled broadly at her apparent confusion. "Our company prides itself with speedy deliveries. Given that our clients are hypers, when we see the same day delivery option being highlighted we know the customer is in dire need of urgent help." He looked past her and into the ruined apartment, nodding to himself. "An emergency order of condoms, toys, lube and clothes from the same apartment were flagged in the network of similar companies and so we rushed here as fast as we could."

"Oh uhm... it wasn't... really that urgent." Kriss looked behind her and scratched her head. "I just got carried away."

"Of course ma'am, we are aware you must be used to this but it's city policy to avoid pregnancy waves and flooding warnings that the sort of items and urgency you requested to be delivered asap." The deer, which the nametag identified as Nigel, gently waved at his left. "May we enter? We will deliver the items and clean up."

"C-clean?" Confused, shocked, naked and still leaking up a storm despite everything, Kriss stepped back under the aggressively friendly attitude of the delivery guy.

Less than five seconds later her home was invaded by a team of men in waterproof suits, running vacuums over her floors, walls and ceilings with incredible speed and efficiency, gallons of cum carried away and stashed into highly resistant and cumbersome containers strapped to their backs. Despite the sheer number of them and the strength of their equipment, the boa's nut was thick enough to make progress slow and hard-fought. As soon as the living room and the hall, part of it anyway, had been freed from her cooling seed, the rest of the team showed up, placing boxes and boxes on the floor, cutting them open and setting up everything in an array over the cleaned up coffee table, condoms, clothes and whatnot. Last came the vacuum, put in the middle of her living room, the model identical to the ones on the backs of the workers, only bigger and clearly not meant to be carried on her back.

"Our company also builds draining pipes and sanitation systems in case you ever wish to upgrade your setup." He smiled and handed her a pamphlet with a sleuth of items and services, which a glance let her know included even an emergency cocksleeve mounted to a wall for extreme needs that would dump a client's load straight into the sewers instead of the water pipes of the building, a personal, private plumbing for cumshots so thick they gunked up anything beyond city-grade flood tunnels. "As a first time customer, we added an exclusive VIP sleeve for the heavy-duty fleshlight complete with extendable tube that can be connected to the shower drain. Just plug in and cum to your heart's content, no need to mop the floors!" With a blinding white smile, Nigel nodded to her, closed the door and left.

"Huh." She paused. "Guess that's convenient. Gotta keep that in mind for the next time. "Wait hold on... it's 2 pm? I've been sucking myself off for... four hours?" She paused again, then let out a soft 'hm', raising her eyebrows and cocking her head to the side. "Huh! That's neat. Dangerous, but neat."

After the cleaning, professional cleaning, industrial grade at that, Kriss' feet were just about the only think dirty about her entire home, still covered in cum, which let her leave prints as she headed to the living room, eyeing the rack of hyper-friendly clothes she'd ordered: a couple pairs of pants that lacked the crotch area and a series of faux-jocks that could be tied to the front, a cock pouch for all occasions, as the store page said. Large pouches for balls and sheath, or just one of the two, black or white, stretchy or meant to confine, with an extra amount of fabric so that she could keep her cock nicely covered. She wasn't sure that anything she'd gotten for herself would last long, but at the very least she could go around dressed nicely without worrying about her cock flopping about for a couple days, hopefully.

Kriss put on the jeans, shaking away the odd feeling that pants shouldn't actually have a huge hole in the front for her huge, fat, heavy nuts, which had shrank by at least five inches and yet had not grown any less heavy than before, then tucked every dangling, musky, gently twitching bit into the large sheath-and-balls pouch and clipped it to her pants. This particular pouch wasn't actually meant to keep anything in, but rather to snap and let everything spill out in case of accidental boners so that it could be salvaged. It wasn't as safe but she wasn't sure if she could actually avoid getting hard in public, given that she had had a cock for just one day and she'd already flooded the apartment one and a half times. Teenagers born with equipment far smaller than hers had trouble dealing with it, after all.

Along with her tv and all of her books, her phone had been another victim of her orgasms, ruined, completely dead, which meant she needed to go to a store, get a new one and then find a way to explain to Gardiel, her coworkers and her entire family, that she now had the junk of a hyper horse. Her twin sister was going to visit in two days and that girl was a horny bastard. Kriss had lost count of all the herms, girls, guys, friends, coworkers and everything else she'd brought home and fucked, right across the room without even pulling the privacy blanket that divided their halves. Not that Kriss didn't like it... or partake in it a few times, her sister had wonderful taste in guys and most seemed to love fucking twins, especially one after the other. That being said there was a time and a place for everything and before there was no risk of either of them getting pregnant, given that both lacked the junk necessary, but now? The two of them had experimented with each other more than once, secretly of course, testing toys bought in secret behind their mother's back, there was a zero percent chance Nessa wouldn't try to get a few rounds in now that there was an actual flesh-and-blood cock to use. And Kriss wasn't sure that she'd have the determination to refuse such an offer.

With a goal in mind and new clothes on her, the boa left the security of her home for the wild west that were the streets, armed with little more than her wallet, an emergency strip of condoms and a backup crotch pouch to defend herself with against the perils of her own horny mind and body. People on the street stared at her, just a little, hard not to when her clothes were so utilitarian they left nothing to the imagination, letting her junk be front and centre of her entire self, though even if she wore something like a dress long enough to cover her calves she'd have to deal with the fact that her gait was thrown off by the sheer size of her balls, even if just a bit. It was titillating, in a sense: to be seen, ogled, envied, even if it made her feel like a piece of meat. Being a woman had its downsides, catcalling was never something she loved, especially when it was tasteless, as a woman with a cock big enough to her a leg, it only added more complexity to the crass some people were naturally endowed with.

Her favourite electronics store was right in the middle of a mall, convenient for all the times she wanted to go for the few times she'd needed a new pair of headphones or a cover or whatever, and then felt like a snack or a trip to a bookshop or a coffee. Now it was more of a trap, with all the people shopping and crowding the place, bumping into each other. Kriss beelined for the one place she needed, dropped her cum soaked phone on the counter and asked for a replacement and for whatever data was left to be transferred over. The employee frowned a little as the cum oozed out of the charging port and the speakers, but money was money and Kriss offered to pay extra for a quick service. Sadly, it'd take an hour or more and that left the boa with time to kill. She began wandering left and right until her eyes met with a small tattoo parlour that she'd seen before many times and never felt like going, too worried any choice she'd make would not look good on her, but these were wild days, days of experimentation and somehow, getting a piercing or a tattoo didn't seem as big of a deal as growing a twenty six inch cock with foot-wide balls from one hour to the next.

"Welcome to PierceYing, my name is Yang." A raven sat on the counter, not behind, not beside, on top, holding a book, legs crossed, wearing only what Kriss imagined to be a loincloth. "Here for a tattoo or a piercing or for a quickie?" As the raven straightened its back, a pair of feather-clad tits jiggled, completely unencumbered by bras or anything beyond a pair of deep cerulean pasties in the form of stars.

"Qui-quickie?" She tilted her head.

"A temporary tattoo, sort of like a Henna, biodegradable paint, no needles if you have fur, no chemicals that hurt the scales, fades naturally with a few showers, takes half an hour to make at most." Yang uncrossed her legs, the loincloth fluttering and revealing a sizable pair of nuts big as apples and a soft, six inch barrel of bird meat. "Or are you more into piercings?" The raven pointed to an array of metal bits hung on the wall beside her. "Nipples, ear, nose, hood... sheath and cock too." The store owner's tone veered quickly from bored to interested as her eyes moved from Kriss' face to her lower half.

"To be honest I don't know... I've never considered a piercing before, not even a tattoo but..." Kriss paused. "... these past two days have been full of surprises and I am feeling like going wild for a little bit." She did not miss the stare directed at her groin, involuntarily flexing her shaft inside its sheath. Such a small action on her looked far more like a lurch, a jump, which was mirrored by the raven in front, tenting the thin loincloth adorned with mystical imagery. "What would... a cock and sheath piercing look like?"

"It all depends on how much meat I have to work with, lady." Yang tapped her beak with a claw. "Foot of cock? Thirteen inches?"

"Twenty six." The reply was dry as could be, it sounded oh so juicy. Yang's eyes went wide and her loincloth tented even more. "Hope it's not too much."

"Fuck no I'll give you a discount." The raven seemed to be drooling. "See, I bought this like, super cool set for a Jacob's ladder but it's... eh it's honestly a little too big and I don't get customers with enough cock to warrant using it. Been trying to get rid of that thing for a while. Of course, since it's big and it's your first one I won't press on you but... It's honestly really cool and I got this amazing machine, zero healing needed, just pop and go."

"Hey, you had me at ‘discount’... not that the rest didn't convince me a little bit more." She winked. "So what do I do now?"

"Get that cock out of your pants, then get hard for me, baby. Have to make sure it looks good when you're about to totally make a guy's day." Yang stopped. "Or a chick... or well, no one, which is totally cool either way, I'm fine either way myself but look at this bad boy here." She raised her loincloth and let Kriss see the big, heavy prince Albert at the tip of a meaty shaft. "Piercings are art and I'm Picasso. Minus the misogyny and the rest of his not so great character. I'd go for Van Gogh but that too is an icky topic." Yang clapped her hands. "Ok, get that dick out, I'll warm up the whole shebang, three minutes tops." The raven rushed to the back of the shop.

In the meantime, with her heart beating wildly in her chest, Kriss began to undress, glad that the windows were completely dark, adding to the mysterious ambiance of the tattoo parlour, and that her pants were made specifically for this very reason. A couple of buttons and her balls flopped out, then her sheath. It was slightly cold but, given how eager her junk was, Kriss had no problems getting randy, especially at the thought of experimenting with something wild and new. She plunged her hands in her sheath, sinking several inches deep, all the way down to half of her forearm before she even reached the bottom of her pouch and began to stroke and squeeze. Her sack gurgled in approval, sloshing gently with each tug and poke, pumping thick pre out of her hardening cock.

"Damn that's nice. Do speed it up please, you seem in a hurry and yet you're taking your sweet time." Yang returned quickly, breaking the boa out of her trance. Kriss pulled her hands out of her messy, cock-stuffed sheath, smiling in apology as her shaft began to surge forth, throbbing ever higher until, bit by bit, all of her twenty six mammoth inches in length and six inches wide were swaying and stinking up the air around the two of them. "Holy crap that is... that is certainly a cock worthy of working on."

"Uhm, thanks?" Kriss sat on the closest chair the raven pointed at, her balls finding a nice ledge to hang off as she pulled her shaft closer to her, though not so close the oils, fluids and pre it was covered in ended up staining her shirt. "Will it hurt?"

"I'll give you something to help, disinfect, prepare this bad girl over here..." With a grin Yang lifted a machine that looked somewhat scary and dangerous. "... put these bad boys on you..." From a cloth she retrieved a series of large rods, glittering titanium, going from small-ish to bigger. "... then shoot you up with a little thing I like to call 'heaven on speed dial' that will make your healing process about as quick as a phone call to your mom. You'll be able to get that cock inside someone, or something, as early as afternoon tea." Yang squeezed the trigger on the machine and the damn thing snapped, piercing the air and nothing else. "Sounds good?"

"Ye-yes." Kriss gulped but steeled herself. "Get my cock all blinged up."

"Hell yeah, now this is what I wanted to do back when I was still broke." The raven put everything down and quickly injected some local anaesthetic into Kriss' immense horsecock after grabbing a large towel and wiping all the fluids coating it.

"Don't get many guys or gals coming here to get piercings for their junk?"

"All the damn time, I'm very good at it and I have done like, ninety percent of the actually decent prince alberts, ladders, sheath, frenulum, hell, clit piercings too, nipples, ears as well in a ten mile radius." Having sterilised everything, Yang began the rest of the materials and machines. Kriss looked up, trying to distract herself from the fact that she was about to get her cock, her brand new virgin cock piercings most people didn't have the courage to get in their entire life the ladder was inserted "I've got a biochemistry degree from one of the big universities, which is why I have that medicine to speed up your healing, but frankly playing around with a big fat cock like this is far more fun than learning about carbon compounds and the goddamn coagulation cascade." Another hiss, another piercing. "Say, how many steps do you feel like getting? Because with two inches between each one leaves you with like, almost a dozen."

"I am not sure, what's the professional opinion?" Kriss asked and the raven held up a total of seven clawed fingers. "Seven it is." She paused. "Oh and a sheath piercing too, like, a big one."

"Lady, you're just tickling all my soft spots."

As the time went by, which was hardly any time at all given how quick the raven was, Kriss found herself more and more 'blinged up' until she was fully equipped with an array of seven shiny new thick and heavy steps to a lewd ladder going from her base to her flare, two inches apart each. Her sheath was given some metal of its own, heavy and meaty to match the heft of that massive cock pouch, perfectly adding more of a wild, untamed, very exotic look to the boa's shaft. However, it wasn't quite over: Yang immediately grabbed a large bottle and squirted a lot of the liquid inside over Kriss' flesh and began slathering her cock with it, from flare to sheath, thoroughly covering every inch of it. Kriss had not felt more than the light pressure of the machine as the painkiller kept everything numb, but as the liquid seeped into her skin she began feeling the roughness of those claws on her shaft, the light pressure and the cold of the ooze, the dull throb of the piercings and the heft they possessed. The leaking of precum that had been momentarily stopped soon returned, and it returned stronger and more abundant like an overfilled container suddenly being opened.

"S-sorry." Gushes of sticky, musk-heavy, dense precum rose high and splattered back down, following the constant throbbing of the boa's massive taint and balls, most of it ending up on Yang's feathers. "Feeling a tad s-s-sensitive."

"That's fine, it means everything is working as it should." She continued to basically jack off Kriss, rubbing her hands all over the snake's flesh as the bubbling precum became more and more abundant. "Gotta really work the stuff so that your body heals faster. The fact that it's basically like jacking you off is only a... pleasant side effect I'd say." Yang winked and grabbed more of the solution and dumped it on the stiff spire of twitching arousal with medical, if somewhat perverse, precision. "Strap in and enjoy it, I won't mind if you make a mess."

Kriss didn't need to hear anything else other than not to worry, almost as if the green light at a formula one race had gone off: she mewled and curled her toes within her shoes, lips pursed and taut, her balls gurgled and churned, her flesh tingling from the solution seeping within along with the precum and the pebbly scales gently scraping and teasing and stimulating every inch they touched. Her flare swelled bigger and bigger, towering above the twenty six inches of perfectly sculpted ebony cock, the cum pipe nestled right in the middle yawning and stretching over and over with each pump of pre. The air around the parlour already smelled a bit like cock and balls, after all, Kriss had been hard and with her junk fully out for a while, but now it was truly beginning to smell of sex and musk to extremely arousing degrees.

"There you go girl, let aaaaaalll of it out." Yang hardly made a fuss even as fat wads of pre splattered on her beak, dangling from the tip.

The raven herself was getting hard throughout all of this, her own shaft stiffening, foreskin peeled back as the entire pink length rose higher, revealing a much more impressive array of piercings that made the entire humanoid avian cock look like a work of art more than a mere appendage. A thinner stream of pre oozed from Yang's tip, lost in a torrent of snake batter which became even more violent when the raven pressed her tongue on that mammoth cock and began playing with the piercings, licking them and the flesh around them as she teased the snake, still rubbing in the solution as she admired her own work and the marvellously crafted horsecock before her.

Kriss had had her cock for a day, had played with it for less than twenty four hours in total, had cum but a handful of times and all by her herself, feeling someone else's breath wash over her skin, someone else's hands and warmth touch her, knowing that she wasn't alone and that it wasn't her own hand stroking her stiff shaft, feeling the piercings gently tug at her flesh and make her feel harder than she actually was.... it all became too much too fast. The boa hissed and arched her back, rubbing her cock all over Yang's face as her balls plapped onto the raven's chest and came, her taint bloated, her cum pipe stretched, her shaft girthier as a deluge of sticky, white, virile batter surged from her sack and rained down upon the two of them in immense waves. Shot after shot after shot her cum rose up and rained down, heavy and dense like glue, musky, potent. Gallons raced out, hit the wall on the far end of the parlour, kept aimed away from even as the whole of her shaft attempted to lurch left and right by Yang's strong grip as the raven continued to lose herself.

The floor quickly became a swampy ground, covered in white, tens, hundreds of gallons' worth of batter that Kriss alone had spilled, the dark, somewhat edgy mood of the parlour completely drowned in a growing pool that stuck to walls and ceiling and equipment. Cum and cum and cum she did, writhing with pleasure as her cock continued to be loved, caressed and teased. Seven minutes, maybe more, that was how long Kriss' mammoth length belched and gushed and spurted ropes one, two fingers wide, each lasting dozens of seconds, each carrying tens of gallons at a time. It was a deluge and when she finally stopped, the far end of the room was completely ruined and only the area where the two of them were had a semblance of order, though the floor was covered in cum all the same.

"Alright, that was fun!" Yang stood up, her cock as stiff as a steel beam. "Now I'm going to jack off so damn hard all over myself and close shop for the day." The raven gave Kriss a pamphlet with instructions on how to take care of the piercings and some more of the solution to slather on later during the day.

With unsteady steps, splashing in the three-inch deep puddle, ruining her shoes and the bottom of her pants, Kriss listened to the medical side of the experience, nodding along with whatever presence of mind she had left, then swiped her crying credit card and finalized the whole deal. Yang waited no longer than ten seconds after the snake had put on her ball pouch and cleaned herself up before kicking Kriss out of the parlour and locking the door, leaving a still horny, musk-dazed, much poorer boa with her feet covered in cum out in public.

Kriss did her best, trying to cover up her state, but the prints her shoes left and the telltale reek of cock, balls, spunk and sweat were hard to deny for anyone with a working nose, or a pair of eyes. She walked back to the electronics store, grabbed her new phone: clean, pristine, neat, without a few of the viruses she'd gotten over the years surfing a couple of odd websites, and most of all, not soaked in cum. A quick SIM swap and she was back in business. However, the sun was still up, she had already called in sick and the rest of the day was all in her hands: returning home was certainly fun, she did have many toys to test, but also, it'd been so long since she'd had a little while of rest. With a smile on her face, Kriss headed out once again and began wandering left and right. Her wallet hurt pretty bad but some things, like window shopping, walking, going to the park, those were always free.

And so she went around, enjoying what little free time she had without the shackles of work at her feet. Immersed in pure raw relaxation so much so that as the hours passed she didn't realize herself growing bigger in the groin region, her sloshing loud and insistent to the point that those around her could hear nuts gurgle and churn, at least those that weren't wearing headphones like her. Not having been born male, much less a hyper, Kriss lacked the self-awareness necessary to understand what happened when someone who could pump hundreds of gallons of cum every orgasm and barely feel tired afterwards went hours without dumping their load. It was only when she felt her ball pouch snap and get flung onto the window of a car nearby that she noticed the state of her lower half: soaked in sweat, leaky, absolutely sloshing and, the second that her sheath was free of any restraint, throbbing to full mast right in the middle of the street.

The rainbow boa rushed to safety, leaving the cock pouch to stain the car, basically glued to the damn thing so dense the cum she was leaking had gotten, and entered the closest place she hoped would have a bathroom. Thankfully she was lucky: she'd chosen a small bookshop with a giraffe at the counter, holding several books around her and scanning each slowly and with great boredom.

"Bathroom, urgent, where?" Kriss slammed her fists on the counter and woke the giraffe up, her cock plapping wetly, loudly and heavily on the pile of books, staining them with dense cocksweat. The employee took a look and then pointed at the sign on the wall nearby with a huge blush on her muzzle. "Thanks."

There wasn't much time, so the boa, holding her massive shaft in her hands like an unruly child, rushed towards the bathroom, slammed the door open with her ass, closed it behind her and immediately fumbled to get the condoms from her back pocket all the while thicker and fatter globs of spunk spilled from her flare directly into the pristine toilet bowl. She was thankful that the room was big, clearly meant for people of size comparable to the giraffe outside, which meant higher ceilings, more space, though it also meant most things were scaled up a little more than she'd have liked, had she not been in there for a much less normal reason than just using the toilet. Barely ten seconds had passed since secluding herself from the outside world, and already the porcelain throne was beginning to overflow with spunk thick enough that even that huge seat was having trouble digesting it. Kriss flushed it and watched as the amount of seed inside barely lowered, immediately refilled a second later when the next gallon-sized spurt rocketed out of her sack, and then increased with the next, although she was also mesmerised by the stench and the wonderful perverse pride she was feeling.

"Crap crap crap!" Half a second later the bowl was at full capacity, completely stuffed with her batter and she hadn't even gotten around to wrapping the absolutely massive condom over her gushing pride. It took some effort, given that she was pissing gallons of spunk every other second, but she managed to somehow catch the next spurt inside the silicon pouch. "Heavens, this is so exhausting." Kriss huffed. "How do the other guys do it? I mean..." She rolled her eyes and nodded. "Yeah they just sort of leak and cum all over the place at the gym but that's because it's made for that. In public though... is this normal? Must be..." While muttering to herself, her balls had pumped out another three gallons of cum and the condom was beginning to droop down under its own weight, however the sheer power of her cock kept everything upright. "Well, it is holding on just fine, time to work out this load and get back home immediately."

With no small amount of pleasure, Kriss wrapped her hands around her cock, or, to be more precise, failed to do so in the most spectacular way and just about managed to hold her cock in her palms as her fingers struggled to reach more than a third of the way around her girth at the thinnest part of her shaft. Not waiting a single second more, she began to pump her cock up and down, carefully avoiding the condom stuck behind her flare, her balls plapping between her thighs, swelling fatter and bigger and heavier, staining her pants with sweat and the spilled cum she didn't manage to catch. The condom sloshed and lurched, swelling with tens of gallons of cum already barely twenty seconds after putting it on, the air around her sticky with her stench so much so the one mirror was all foggy and dripping with what was definitely musk so hot and dense it condensed like steam and dripped in the sink. The longer she spent in that spacious, though definitely not as well ventilated as she needed it to be, the more the air got thick and sticky and the more her senses drowned in her own musk, feeding her lust and libido and her need to fuck and cum.

However, just her hands weren't enough, not when she was so pent up and her cock so big and her balls so fat. It might have been fine the day before after work, when she was still experimenting, but now she needed to do it quickly and efficiently, and her cock refused to cooperate. She'd spent hours once again without taking care of it, ignoring its needs and now it got revenge, a steamy, salty, sweaty, wet and sticky revenge that gave her so much pleasure it was insane despite her urgency to be done with it as quickly as possible. A minute passed and the condom touched the ground, stretchy enough to take all of her backed up spunk in stride as she tried her best to work her way up to a fat nut.

"Ma'am, are you ok? I can hear weird noises from the cash register and I am getting worried." The giraffe knocked from the other side of the door a few times, distracting Kriss and bringing her back to square one, or close enough to it, but she didn't answer. "Listen, I am pretty sure I know what is going on and I'd very much like you not to flood my shop, books aren't exactly something that works well with... uhm... well you know." She paused for a moment. "I can help... if you wish."

Kriss hesitated for a bit, a few seconds, just enough for her to dump about fifteen more gallons of cum into the condom as her production ramped up, quickly spiralling out of her control fast enough that she had no idea how to deal with it before the damn thing burst. Grunting, she curled her tail and unlocked the door, letting the poor clerk be hit by the solid wall of musk and ball funk. The giraffe grunted and stumbled but braved the advancing tide of breeder stench.

"Damn, been pent up for long?" She entered and closed the door, eyeing the bloated condom and began undressing, letting out a pair of tits from her top that were so massive they might as well have been weapons of mass distraction and destruction, then panties wet enough to be beyond ruined. With a grunt, she flexed her muscles and from the depths of her pussy slipped a fat toy, wide and girthy like an egg and shaped exactly like one, only that it was as big as something one might see in american football. Kriss looked at her with surprise. "What? I got a kink like everyone. It gets boring here so often I had to find a way to enjoy my time. Shoving stuff up my pussy is fun."

"Uhm, ok?" Kriss nodded, her cock agreeing with that statement by firing a dozen gallons back to back into the condom, adding a good inch in size to the quickly swelling balloon. "It's been like, five hours since I came last."

"Oh." The giraffe looked at her, then at her cock, back at her and at the condom, taking a deep breath and then shivered from head to hooves like a leaf in the wind, her pussy leaking more than before as her folds twitched and her eyes rolled back. "Ohhh fuck that's hot."

"Thank you but I am nowhere near close to cumming and it looks like the condom won't last for long." A wet, loud, lewd glorsh echoed as Kriss dumped even more cum into the silicone sheath, her balls gurgling to match that sound as they fattened and gained another inch in size each. "So whatever you want to do, do it now."

The giraffe didn't need to be told to go ahead twice: she knelt behind Kriss, spread her ass wide and shoved her long snout inside the two ungodly sweaty cheeks, kissing her pucker and shoved her tongue up up and up. Kriss hissed, nearly jumping in the air from the shock but she was kept firmly on the ground by the hands gripping her ass with immense strength and the sheer weight of her junk. Her cock throbbed harder as the giraffe's tongue, long, thick, long, slimy, long and oh so skilled, wormed its way into her rump, pushing down onto her prostate from within as soon as it was found. Like the button on a spaceship that spooled the engines, as soon as contact was made the boa's knot swelled inside her sheath and slipped out, lubed by gallons of sloshing sheath fluids, thickening the stench of sex in the air the second it was freed easily by several times.

With her knot out, that wall that she couldn't quite get past was knocked down, demolished by the next bucket-sized spurt of cum that rocketed out of her balls and into the condom with such force the silicone strained and stretched immensely, still holding on strong despite the pressure it was under. The giraffe pushed deeper, grasping Kriss' balls from behind as she huffed against her pucker and tongued with increasing strength, caressing those immense orbs over and over as the boa resumed jacking off. From cumming after a few minutes of rubbing to throating herself to being jacked off by someone else in the tattoo parlour to now having her ass eaten out so deep she felt that tongue up in her stomach, Kriss had soared through levels of perversion and pleasure, one-upping herself time and time again. As her hands glided over her condom-clad cock, she squeezed her knot with her thighs, keeping the pressure on herself just enough to make sure she'd not fall back and lose progress. She stroked, squeezed, caressed, pumped and huffed, the giraffe going well beyond merely rimming her impossibly sweaty ass: her snout parted the boa's pucker, sinking inside and blowing hot air directly against her innermost flesh. That, combined with all the rest, was more than enough for Kriss to cum right then and there.

Hours of backed up nut rushed out of her sack all at once, or tried to since even her immensely fat cum pipe and cock were nowhere near wide enough to make it all fit through her plumbing. The force of her orgasm forced her shaft to distend around her cum geyser, a torrential output that nearly quadrupled the condom's size in three seconds, and then kept going, bigger, heavier, more packed with cum. Several dozens of gallons got pumped into the silicone sheath, and then even more as the room inside the bathroom ran out far quicker than she could hope to run out of nut. But, unfortunately, the condom wouldn't last long enough to even come close to filling every inch of space around them if she kept going like that.

"Uhmm we're having a problem!" Kriss watched with pride and worry, her cumshot making her hiss and mewl in immense pleasure every single second. "Condom's about to burst!"

Musk and dazed, the giraffe pulled her snout out of the boa's ass, eyes dilated with the thick musk and the taste of reptile sizzling on her tongue, clumsily grabbing another wrapped condom from Kriss' pants. Despite her head being full of breeder stench and her mouth heavy with the flavours of sweaty rump, she managed to pull the condom out. Kriss worried that she'd get the place flooded, but the giraffe quickly put her lips around the spurting flare and sealed them, her long, sensual neck bulging with fast-rushing cum. By the time she grabbed the new condom and wrapped the snake's impressive tool, her gut was sloshing with spunk, two or three dozen gallons pumped in the two seconds it took to change between one creaking condom and one that wouldn't explode on them. As if her body knew that it had more space to fill with nut, her orgasm grew stronger and heavier, the output nearly doubling instantly as her cock spread even wider because of the sheer volume of seed coursing through her flesh. The first condom was filled in little more than a minute, the second one lasted no more than forty seconds at best, maybe forty five including the time between the first cumshot that began to swell and the time it touched the ground. Maybe it was a little less than that.

Again the giraffe put her lips around Kriss' cock and let her throat deliver fat wad after fatter wad of cum down her gullet in the time it took to wrap the next condom around the snake's mighty flare and secure it. Her gut was even bigger and sloshed louder, yet her expression was one of bliss as she caressed her pregnancy-dwarfing belly and rubbed her pussy with the heel of her foot, making sure her hands were free for another condom change with just as much professional ethos as a formula one pit-stop operator. But again, things were not as simple: while their tactic was flawless, or as flawless as a cobbled solution could be, the physical limitations of the bathroom, space mainly, were evident. Another condom was changed and already the two had been forced to retreat against the door, the giraffe outside as Kriss mewled and came to her heart's content, her load finally filling the last inch with warm seed.

The next condom bloated over the floor of the bookshop, the stench wafting from her balls now sticking to the books and bookshelves rather than just sterile tiles, which would undoubtedly linger for days or more. Kriss hadn't brought more than four condoms because she was sure she'd not need any more than that, after all, she'd nutted hard enough to flood her home and fill many, many canisters from the delivery company to the brim, how could she even produce enough spunk in a few short hours to need more than four extra extra extra large emergency condoms? Especially after she'd blasted a couple hundred gallons into the tattoo parlour, she was ninety nine percent sure that she'd manage until returning home.

Yet there she was, with her hands desperately trying to get the last condom over her flare with the help of a cum-bloated, musk-addled, misty-eyed giraffe who had long been since cumming her brains out and snorting her balls from up close during the short periods between one stuffed silicone sheath and the next, slathering those huge orbs in slimy saliva. Hundreds of gallons of cum were piled up onto each other in four immense balloons, warm, steaming, sloshing and creaking as the silicone struggled to keep everything in place. Still it wasn't enough: even as her orgasm drew to a close, she knew she wouldn't be able to avoid flooding the bookshop. The clerk seemed to notice that as well and, in a brilliant move, or one that spoke of just how much the boa's funk and breeder musk were affecting her brain: she unhinged her jaw wide enough to take Kriss' fat meat into her gullet and pushed herself down on it. Despite her being a giraffe, the immense flare and fat cock were enough to bulge that gullet oh so wide, the flare stretching the spotted fur as it descended down, down, down, stopping at the door to her already bloated stomach. Kriss watched her gulp and chug wads of cum before that snout kissed her crotch and snorted so loudly the bathroom was momentarily filled with nothing but the sound of air rushing into the giraffe's nostrils.

The softness of that throat, the wetness of its flesh, the warmth and slickness, the fact that it wasn't her own throat squeezing her flesh was a hundred times better than the casual handjob she'd gotten by the raven earlier that day, so much better and so much more rewarding. One last barrier broke inside her brain, delivering the fattest, longest, most sperm-packed and dense cumshot of all since she'd began pumping her flesh in that bathroom right into an already stuffed stomach. Like the condoms before it, the giraffe swelled, growing even more pregnant-looking, surpassing the peak of pregnancy for her species, looking as if she was gravid with more than just a couple of foals. Her gut sloshed and touched the ground, then grew even more until the poor female was resting wholly upon her sloshing dome, then and only then did Kriss stop cumming and felt her cock soften still inside that silken, godly throat.

"Ohhh heavens sorry, I'm so sorry..." Kriss knelt and apologized, but the clerk was long since gone into a dreamland populated by thick cocks and fat loads and musky balls and sweaty asses. "Uhm... what the hell do I do now..." She looked around and tried to figure out the next step, but lacking any experience, she simply stood and waited for an idea to come. "Fuck, that's right, I can call the delivery guys." Her new phone had been spared the suffering and within a few seconds she was on the line, a few more seconds and she heard a familiar voice. "Hey, uhm, sorry to bother you, I've had a mishap... no, not with the equipment, I was out having a stroll and I guess... I lost track of time."

"Is it a flooded room? Or are we talking about several bloated strangers/friends/family members?" The deer seemed to smile through the phone as if the two of them were talking face to face.

"Uhm no no, no fam... wait, that can happen?" Kriss was honestly shocked.

"Hypers tend to live in close proximity with family and family tends to be aware and sympathetic of their plight, it's not uncommon to get your own parents pregnant or have a few romps with siblings and such. It's fairly normal and hardly more frequent to just have sex. But let's get back to the topic at hand, ma'am, what's the damage?"

"Just a few condoms and a... bloated employee at a bookshop." She blushed. "Managed to get the situation under control without flooding."

"That is wonderful, normally when we get news of this the average is flooded apartments such as your state this morning or a few dozen unexpected pregnancies all concentrated in the same bedroom." The deer sighed. "Give us the address and we'll be there shortly."

And shortly thereafter they did arrive, with an ambulance, cleaning crew and smiles all over. The sheer professionalism made Kriss feel odd about her own job because it wasn't as if her own tasks were that much different from theirs: cleaning, mopping, getting the mess out of rooms and items, dealing with people that were so very much more virile and fertile than needed on a daily basis. Only that she relished her duties, she loved slathering herself in cum and milk, she adored sniffing wet panties and musky jocks and licked the seats in locker rooms to taste musky post-workout breeder ass and bragged about it to her friends that had 'regular jobs'. Was she lucky or disrespectful? Standing on the other side of the chaos made her look at things in a different light and, while she did understand better how to do her duties, she also knew just how much of what she had always thought were purposeful attacks of biochemical terrorism, aka stinking up a room with ball sweat so much she needed to grab bleach and an industrial brush to get the stink out of the tiles, were merely accidents not caused by anything more than absent-mindedness or simply just their biology. In a way it was refreshing and incredibly arousing: to make that much of a mess on a daily basis with hardly any effort, just how virile were they?

She left the bookshop with a smile on her face and a new cock pouch barely containing her shaft and balls. The revelation had ignited something inside her, a desire to see if she could reach that level herself before figuring out whether her changed body was permanent or just a freak accident. If it was permanent, she'd need to learn how to deal with it, right? And if it wasn't... well, she had limited time to enjoy herself, so might as well cum her brains out as much as possible until it all went away. Her cock threatened to rip the pouch once again, but she somehow managed to get it under some form of control, just enough to avoid popping another boner right then and there. That did not stop her from leaking an absurd amount of precum from her flare through the cloth and down her pants, making her sheath appear clearly beneath the whole thing, flare pressed tightly against the pouch. It was like a wet shirt contest, but only she was playing and one that she had no intention to play, though she did feel that it was fun, even if just a bit.

Returning home was far less worrying than the day before by a lot, immensely more relaxing. However, she was just as eager to get some action going on, and, unlike yesterday, Kriss now had some experience and much more than just her hands and mouth to play with herself. With a smirk she took a deep breath and then relaxed her muscles, letting her cock flex inside sheath and pouch and stiffen, popping the soaked cover and sending it flying with a loud snap, the thick pre glueing it to the wall like plaster. She was naked in a few more seconds, her cock stiffening to full mast the next and leaking buckets of precum by the time she had taken her shoes off and stepped into the living room.

The stench of cum and cock and sweaty balls and ass thickened immediately, making her feel as if she was once again burying her face inside her crotch, which she eagerly did, curling herself into a pretzel, lavishing her lower half with love and passion, apologising with kisses, licks, sniffs and caresses for the lack of attention she'd given it during the day. Despite having blown two loads after leaving, each of them big enough to flood an entire shop, her balls were still so very heavy and densely packed with cum that she couldn't imagine what it'd take to completely empty them. Not that she wanted to do that, even if she could find the time and energy to even come close to trying, given how much she'd pumped during the day without making significant progress. Her flare hovered above her head like a car tire, heavy and swaying under its own weight, making her cock follow it as the bubbling ball batter rose into the air and splattered down in fat globs.

She buried her senses in her groin, worshipping herself with wild passion far exceeding that of Yang or the bookstore clerk, knowing exactly what to lick or kiss or squeeze to make herself moan and huff which allowed her to plan ahead, expecting pleasure in measured if chaotic and erratic doses. How honest was her cock, how eager, demanding just like a pussy but so much more... grand and visible, not a slit whose secrets she had to crack and figure out but a map she could follow leisurely and with far more obvious responses. Curled in ways a contortionist would be impressed by, Kriss scraped cum and sweat and juices off her flesh and swallowed them all until her crotch and sack were shining with her saliva and the living room around her was a messy, precum-coated, cock-reeking haven of debauchery. Yet it was not enough: she moved up to her cock, suddenly wishing she had immense tits and fat nipples to wrap around her shaft and titfuck herself to orgasm, but she was not gifted in that area, she'd never been and never would unless she got her hands on something equivalent to the jock. The thought made her squeal and grunt, blasting her mouth with a massive, sticky, salty load that travelled down her gullet like a slick rock and landed in her stomach with just as much weight.

Unfortunately, as much as she might have dreamed of being able to do that, reality was disappointing, if only in that sense. Even if she could not bury her cock in an avalanche of tits, she was certainly more than capable of burying it inside her throat and make do that way. Inch after inch she crammed down her gullet until her flare was firmly resting in her stomach, pumping buckets of goo as her belly swelled and sloshed, getting her dinner sorted out long before she even had to begin cooking. How wonderful was her taste, how dense her flavour, how thick the coat of cum and cocksweat and giraffe saliva, she could savour everything as she went deeper down her shaft until her medial ring kissed her lips and the flavour became twice as dense and so much more potent. Kriss nearly came in that moment, her senses overwhelmed by the virility of her own cock, the smell of her balls, so sweaty, so heavy, so musky, rising from below. But she held on, if barely, lifting herself up so that she could muzzlefuck and deepthroat herself at the same time.

Sitting on the couch, ass in the air, legs spread, balls plapping against her body, Kriss thrust and grinded, humping inside her own throat time and time again, relishing in the feeling of her flare stretching her gullet wide, rising from the bottom of her stomach, bulging her flesh as it endlessly spurted precum, then popped into her mouth, letting her taste and play with the spongy-yet-firm flesh before thrusting it in once again, making it travel down as her lips and jaw unhinged time and time again just so that she could fit all of her girth where she wanted it to go.

However, this was only an appetiser for the main course, a sample, a taste of what she wanted to do next. Half an hour passed before she pulled out, feeling her lips stretch around the flare, stomach sloshing with precum, the couch was a sweat-covered mess, her balls had dug a hole deep enough to hide inside of and the air was extremely thick with the stench of musk and raunchy scents. She stood up, stretched and licked her cumstained lips, cock bending down under its own weight.

Kriss approached the breeding mount that had been installed that morning and began exploring it and soon realised that the website did not make it justice at all: it was far softer than it appeared, the silicone flesh more springy and stretchy, and, after a few sniffs and licks, definitely had the smell and taste of a real-life pussy, nondescript species and very mild, but it had all the hallmarks of a extremely lifelike replica of a fat equine muff. There wasn't much need for lube, given that she could aim her cock at the mount, wait a second or two and have the whole thing lubed to hell and back, but she had bought gallons of high quality lube and she'd use all of them. The boa did not feel like skimping, not when all of her life seemed to become more and more excessive as the hours passed, so she just grabbed a bottle and squeezed the whole thing over her shaft and into the mount. The end result was a slick cock and silicone lips oozing clear juices.

"Fuck this is... well I finally know what it's like to be on the other side now." She huffed and, with the same eagerness of a soon to be not-virgin at a frat party, shoved her cock into the mount

It squelched, loudly and lewdly, a few pints of lube displaced by her massive girth, some pushed out of the other side into a tube that connected to the sealed containers for the loads to come, some oozing down onto her sweat-soaked balls and then onto the floor. It was like the giraffe's throat: long, slick, wet, tight, but unlike that throat it lacked the perverse layer of pleasure that warm living flesh could give, hers included. Yet it did not stop her from hissing and grunting like a trucker, immediately breaking into a chaotic rhythm, merely thrusting as instincts she had no familiarity with nor control over jumped to the front of her brain and took hold of her muscles. Her flare scraped the insides of the faux-pussy, going down the three and a half feet of depth as far as her oversized length could afford her, which was already a lot, her balls slapping on the cool, metallic underside, leaving sweaty heart-shaped prints that dripped with perspiration. The mount buckled under her barbaric rutting, her hands gripping the handles so tightly her knuckles whitened, drool oozed down her lips and onto her small tits. On the other side the container of fluids was quickly getting filled with sticky, dense pre, enough to likely turn a few dozen women pregnant if it were to get into their wombs. Of course, that was nothing but the idle leak, barely a fraction of what she had been leaking that morning before nutting so hard her house was flooded.

"D-damn... fuck I could get used to this..." Kriss snarled, spreading her legs wider as she pushed a couple buttons, making the pistons under the mount hiss and bend so that she could thrust from another angle, putting far more force and effort into it. "Mmmhhahh fffuck I have to tell Gardiel to get a breeding rack for the gym... or just the lockers, would make customer satisfaction.... fffajasda ssssoar...!!!" The boa felt her balls lurch and fire a dozen back-to-back wads of potent pre, yet she was not even close to orgasm. "This is... harder than it looks..."

Over the years she'd fucked so many people she knew when someone had experience and how long they could last. Sometimes she knew going for an inexperienced guy could mean longer sessions because those guys hardly knew what they were doing and couldn't get it over quickly even if they wanted, sometimes she went for older guys who could hammer out a few quick ones in such a short time she could get her muff stuffed before the end of the lunch break. She'd always figured out it was simply a matter of 'cock in, cock out' and lack of exercise that made for poor sex, but now that she was attempting to breed her way to climax with nothing but her hips and legs, feeling her thighs burn and her abs twitch, Kriss had to admit that even 'cock in, cock out' wasn't quite as easy as she had initially considered.

Despite that it was still immensely pleasurable: the burn of the workout coupled with the sensations of precum sweat and lube all mixing together, the effort itself was fun and it added a layer of challenge beyond stuffing her cock down her throat and sucking herself to climax, slowly or quickly. She thrust and thrust and thrust, grunting, snarling, snorting and murring, flexing and gushing and spilling buckets of precum a second as the minutes passed. A hiss echoed, not one that came from her but from the containers, as the first one automatically disconnected from the draining system, full to the brim with about thirty gallons of precum alone. The stack of remaining containers gave Kriss some relief and hope that she'd be able to avoid the damage if she came as hard as she could and began imagining it.

She'd feel her nuts lurch and gurgle, pulling taut against her taint and ass, her cock swell and fatten and surge, her flare widen as a torrent of sticky white batter rushed through her plumbing like a tide and then began filling the tubing, cramming gallons upon gallons upon gallons of belly-swelling goo into sturdy receptacles meant to take every last drop. She could almost feel it, hell, she could taste her incoming orgasm upon her tongue, and when the stench of sex thickened so much that she could feel as if she was slobbering over her own balls and taint, she did, in fact, taste her climax a split second before it actually arrived.

A veritable tide of batter gushed from her flare, bloating the piping of the stand with gallons surging through them every second, fat ropes each lasting a dozen seconds or more, efficiently dumped into the containers one after the other. It took barely half a minute to fill the first one, another half for the second and so on. The stack of ten thirty-gallon barrels would hardly last enough and, instead of demoralizing her, it only made her cum even harder than before, truly distending the mount as she continued to fuck it and pump her load with no restraints at all. A hundred gallons were gone in the blink of an eye, barely a handful of minutes, and Kriss only loved it more and more as she watched the containers hiss and seal their piping, sloshing with her fat loads, hot and fresh and virile. With so much cum she could impregnate a building, a small town even, sire hundreds of children in a single afternoon if she wished for it and found enough women and herms and cuntboys to take her cock and want to become so gravid their bellies touched the ground and lifted them up. Imagining a horde of swollen domes stuffed with eggs and cum and eggs and more cum broke something inside her mind, a small limiter left, something most hypers were familiar with and learned how to deal with over the years, but not one that Kriss knew about, or rather, not one she was prepared to defend: she knew what it meant to cum inside a woman, to fill her up, to watch her swell, she'd been on the receiving end of that many times, though she made sure never to actually get herself knocked up, but now that she had no risk of that, now that she knew she could be on the giving end of the process, oh how tantalizing and wonderfully raunchy the idea of getting herself a harem and fuck them to immobility, impregnating hordes and then doing it over and over and over.

Twice as much cum surged through her cock as before as breeder instincts made her hornier, forcing her sack and prostate to produce twice, thrice, four times as much cum as she could pump out, so much so that her balls began to sag and swell and fatten and grow heavier even as enough spunk to fill a bathtub was being crammed into the mount's tubes every few seconds. If before her load was a tide, now it was a full-on monsoon flood, overpowering the mechanical system quickly and ruthlessly and efficiently. The barrels were filled far sooner than she could ever expect, each of the ten, three hundred gallons of batter, and she had several times as much still left to spill, without counting what she'd make in the time it took her to dump that much.

The pipe connecting the other end of the milker to the canisters began to back up, washing her balls with sticky batter. And then she knotted the mount, her fat bulb swelling past the stretched lips just as she drove herself to the hilt once again, sealing herself, and her cum, fully inside the soft fleshy silicone. It took four whole seconds before the tube that sealed the other end exploded, letting her cum gush from the open end in immense ropes as thick as her wrist, painting the canisters white from the outside as well as the inside. Stuck there, cumming her brains out, feet splashing in a growing puddle of spunk, nose crammed full of the stench of her virility, mind swimming with images of swollen bellies and pregnant wombs, tongue sizzling with the taste of her spunk despite not having licked a single drop in a while, Kriss hugged the mount and waited out the orgasm, shivering and moaning and drooling and cumming and cumming and cumming.

Her knot deflated before she was finished however, leaving her free to slip out merely half an hour later, still gushing freely and abundantly. But, too tired to keep going on her feet, sleepy, sore and in need of rest, Kriss wobbled her way to the bedroom, painting the walls of her house white as fat spurts splattered on everything in erratic beams of white batter. Still spurting, shivering and cumming, the boa put on the jock, making it stretch over her immensely swollen and sore balls, cradling the twin twitching spheres gently and softly as old cold cum oozed through the fabric, soothing their sweaty and sloshing surface with a cool embrace before the sweat soaked through. Hugging her cock like a body pillow, Kriss drifted to sleep, soaking her bed and mattress with spunk for a good while before the stream of seed petered out, replaced with a steady, just as endless and abundant roiling river of pre, all of her cum forced to remain into her sack by the same supernatural mechanisms that had given her that sack in the first place.