The Interview
A new piece of smut commissioned from the brilliant Nemo0690
The Interview
Commission for MJT
Tags: Male, Gay, M/M, Human, Alligator, Anthro, Cyberpunk, Post-apocalypse, Office, Age
Difference, Size Difference, Adult, Alcohol, Substance Use, Groping, Teasing, Flirtation, Virgin,
First Time, Stripping, Musk, Sniffing, Licking, Balls, Cum, Eating Cum, Handjob, Reach Around,
Oral, Anal, Fingering, Rimming, Domination/Submission, Master/Pet, Reluctant, Daddy
Total Word Count: 5777
The world had changed; and many humans weren’t very sure it was for the better.
It had started small, much too small for anyone to notice. An asteroid had fallen to earth,
causing a small stir in the sleepy, rural community outside of which it had landed. A few locals
had gone to check things out, a few pictures and videos had spread online, and after about a
week the event was almost entirely forgotten; save for by the families of the few unlucky men
who had gotten too close to the crash site.
Something had been in the air, carried by the asteroid down to that sleepy community. Later,
after everything started going sideways, researchers had found tiny spores in the lung tissue of
the first few victims. Unidentifiable. Unfamiliar. Extraterrestrial.
It had killed the men that had approached where the asteroid had landed. They had collapsed
as soon as they got within a few feet of the smoking crater. However, those men hadn’t died;
their bodies continued moving after death, seeking out prey to bite and rip and tear. Prey to
whom they could spread the spore which had reanimated them. Prey who were reanimated in
turn, becoming zombies like out of a cheap horror flick.
And much like those cheap horror flicks, there wasn’t any way to stop the spread.
The zombie hordes overran towns, cities, nations, adding to their own numbers exponentially as
the human population dwindled. In what would later become known as the Great Zombie War,
ninety-three percent of humanity was killed. Attempt after attempt to find a vaccine, a cure, a
way to destroy the reanimated dead ended in failure; until at last, in one last move of
desperation, the United Nations came together with the best bioengineers they could find to
create a race of super-soldiers who could turn the tide of battle.
Stronger than a human. Larger, towering above their creators. Faster, moving with swiftness
and agility through the army of undead to cut them down. And of course, immune to the spread
of the zombie virus, suffering at worst a brief period of intense illness before bouncing right
back. They had the intelligence of a human, with the enhanced senses and capabilities of a
beast; they were the anthros, humanity’s only hope.
After a months-long campaign, the Great Zombie War was won. The last of the undead were
destroyed, and humanity could rebuild. However, another threat reared its head for the
remnants of the human population: the threat of being outnumbered and outgunned by their
own creations, who knew well their own capabilities in comparison to their smaller, weaker
creators. Fearing marginalization, and yet unable to put up any resistance against this new
army, the humans emancipated the anthros and allowed the animal-people to rebuild in their
stead.
And rebuild the anthros did. They thrived, while humanity—weakened and soon oppressed by
the ones they had created—became second-class citizens in their own world. While the anthros’
cities rose, the humans were ushered into ghetto districts. While the anthros advanced their
technology and culture, the humans were allowed only the meekest of scraps. While wealth and
opportunity grew abundant for the new masters of the Earth, its former ones fell into poverty and
obscurity.
Years passed. The world changed. And humanity had no choice but to come to terms with its
new place in the civilization of the anthros.
The sounds of the office building filled the air, phones ringing and voices chattering in a chaotic
jumble of noise. Far more chaotic was the storm of anxiety which seethed and roiled in the mind
of the young human man standing before a heavy oak door at the end of the hallway; the one
with ‘Cade McGrewl’ on the holographic nameplate beside it. He stared at it; he’d never had the
opportunity to see real wood before. He swallowed hard, trying to settle his nerves. He shifted
from foot to foot and did his best just to breathe in and then out.
The young man could feel the eyes of the occasional passing anthro running over him; curious,
interested, concerned, aloof. The fact that he was an outsider—an interloper, an intruder in their
space—was like the electricity of a pending bolt of lightning in the air, and the young man did his
best to make himself small and unnoticeable. Unremarkable. Unexceptional.
Not a difficult feat when every animal-man and animal-woman in the vicinity towered head and
shoulders above him; even if he was relatively tall for a human at six feet, the young man
couldn’t hope to compare to an anthro.
He'd introduced himself at the receptionist, ducking his head under the lion’s condescending
smirk. He’d been led down the halls of the building by a large and burly wolf, feeling the anthro
male’s presence looming over him. He’d nodded his gratitude to his guide with a shy murmur.
And when he’d received a patronizing laugh, a flirtatious wink, and a lingering grope on the ass
in return, the man had stood there and taken the molestation with little more than a shudder and
whimper; like a good human who knew his place should.
At last, they’d reached their destination. At last, he was where he was hoping to be. At last, it
was time for the interview that would determine whether or not he’d have a job, a livelihood, a
way to survive.
One tick of the large, antique-looking clock—an analogue one, far more elaborate than the
digital displays he was used to—hanging on the wall behind him passed. Another. Another.
Then, once the shock of what had happened passed, the young man shook himself and shoved
his whirling thoughts to the back of his mind. Ignoring the heat in his face and groin, the human
turned at last to stare up at the massive door.
Took a deep breath.
Searched around for the buzzer to announce his presence and, finding none, reached up to give
the wood a shy knock.
“Yeah, come in!” The voice which called out was deep, a rumbling bellow, and the young man
almost spooked backward like a skittish feral at the sound. But after a moment to still his
pattering heart and trembling hands, the human looked around for any button to push before
noticing the old-fashioned doorknob right in front of him. He turned it one way—the wrong way,
apparently—and then the other, and finally let himself in.
The office of the Mefferdi and Olseni Conglomerate’s head manager was dim and filled with
cigar smoke; and just as massive as the rest of the building, built for towering anthros with little
regard for any smaller, weaker human. On one wall was a liquor cabinet, while the other was
taken up by windowpanes looking out over the neon-and-holographic-billboard-lit skyscrapers of
the city’s center. And ahead was the desk of Cade McGrewl, behind which hunched the
man—alligator—himself.
Big. Very big. He had to swallow down a whimper at the sight of the hulking beast. Even though
most of his bulk seemed to be pudge, the young man could still see the occasional hint of
rock-solid muscle flexing underneath with every movement. His eyes darted upward to a few
holographic pictures in frames on the wall—a younger-looking Cade McGrewl in the uniform of a
military officer; that explained it—before dropping down to his shifting feet. He swallowed, and
gulped, and let out a shy call to announce his presence. He was there about the clerk job.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve been reading your application, Anon.” Cade seemed to be tasting the human’s
name, rolling it on his tongue and drawing out each syllable. He took a long drag of his cigar
while looking the young man up and down. “Have to say, we don’t get many humans applying
for these types of positions.”
The human gulped, stuttering out a reply: he’d always been fascinated by anthros, having grown
up hearing stories of their feats during the Great Zombie War. And when the opportunity had
arisen to work with—for—them, he couldn’t help wanting to jump at it.
“I see…” The gator allowed a considering hum to linger in the air for a long moment. “So you
like the idea of making yourself useful for anthros, is that it?” When the human answered with
only a strangled squeak and widened eyes, Cade had let out a rumbling guffaw at the young
man’s expense. “Just pulling your leg, kid, relax. Although…” A slow, deep draw of his cigar.
“Not gonna lie, you don’t exactly have a lot of qualifications. Makes sense, since you’re just a
human and all, but still.”
The young man bit his lip. Humans couldn’t go to college, and any work for them was scarce.
He’d had to scrounge and scrape to come up with a half-decent resume, and even then it was
anemic at best. He nodded, stammering quietly that he knew he wasn’t exactly qualified, but he
was eager to work and would do anything asked of him.
One of the gator’s brows shot up. He hemmed and hawed, the chair he was sitting in creaking
with protest at every shift of his bulk. “Anything, huh…?” The deep, crooning tone in Cade’s
voice stirred the heat in the human’s face. Made his belly roil. Sent a sharp twinge into the
suddenly-tighter crotch of his pants.
He swallowed around the knot in his throat, and nodded in affirmation. He said ‘anything’, and
he meant ‘anything’. For a moment, the thought that he was coming off as too desperate—and
may be getting in over his head—sent a nervous shudder down his spine, but the young man
did his best to ignore it; even as the sound of his own knees knocking together seemed to grow
thunderous in his flushed ears.
Cade just grunted. He scratched at his soft, considerable gut with one hand, and stubbed out
his cigar in the ashtray perched atop a pile of reports with the other. Then he jerked his head
toward the liquor cabinet on the wall to his left. “Glasses are in the right-hand cabinet, be a good
boy and bring two over here. Scotch is on the shelf. And…” He smirked. “…ambrosia’s tucked in
the little cranny back behind the bottles.”
Ambrosia.
The young man swallowed hard; when had he last been able to score that sweet
substance, one of the only things his kind had to look forward to in their new lives under the
anthros? He nodded, making his way over, and began to rifle through the cabinet. The human
could hear Cade leaning back in his chair with a heaved-out sigh, and the gator speaking up
once more in that deep, almost thrumming voice of his.
“Used to deal with you humans all the time, y’know?” A laugh, and then the sound of a massive
mitt of a hand patting against a firm, scaly gut. “I know I don’t look it, but I was a big shot in the
Anthro Corps back during the war.” The young man nodded and murmured in response.
“’Course, after we finished putting the undead back in their graves and you all handed things
over to us, you humans got put in your little reservations. Been a long time since I’ve had one of
you around.”
The human didn’t speak as he turned, carried the two glasses and scotch and packet of
ambrosia over to the desk, and set everything out with neat and tidy care. However, he caught a
brief and almost nostalgic shift in the gator’s expression.
“Kinda miss it, y’know? Even just smelling one of you gets me really… heated up.” His
deep-green eyes—as green as his scales—stared right up into the young man’s as Cade
sprinkled a bit of the ambrosia into one of the tumblers, and then poured out the scotch. The
gator then pushed the ambrosia-spiked drink over to the young man with a single thick digit, and
took the fuller one—all the way to the brim, rather than only half-full—for himself.
The human stuttered out a response over the rim of his drink as he took a sip, already feeling
the warmth of both the alcohol and the ambrosia spreading through him; Mr. Cade really liked
humans, did he?
“’Course!” A laugh as the gator threw his drink back, and then slammed the emptied tumbler on
the desk. “Especially you male humans. The way you look, the way you smell…” His tongue
flicked out over his lips. “The way you taste…” The rumble returned to Cade’s voice as his eyes
slid up and down the young man’s body once more. His nostrils flared. He grinned, wide and
toothy. “Anthro guys are great, but ain’t nothing that can compare to human, if you want my
honest opinion. So, if you wanna be part of this here operation, I’m going to offer you a deal.”
The human nodded, shifting from foot to foot.
“You, Anon, are gonna be mine. Boyfriend, pet, whatever you wanna call it. You’re gonna give
me that sweet little human ass of yours whenever I want it. Anytime, anywhere. In the office, off
the clock…” Another rumble—a throaty, chest-shaking purr that vibrated into the young man’s
bones—as Cade smirked. “In return, I’ll let you work under me, doing anything we need done
around here. Sweet deal, right?”
Another shiver. Another shudder. A hot blush burning the young man’s face as the drink in his
gut roiled around a tightening knot of anxiety. He’d had a feeling that something similar would be
proposed; and it wasn’t like he had the right to resist any advances the anthros might make on
him. He was a human, after all, and that meant he was desirable. Desired. Whether or not he
wanted or even enjoyed it.
At least the anthro propositioning him was a guy.
He took another long swallow of his drink to procrastinate on giving Cade an answer, letting it
wash through his mind and smother his whirlwind of thoughts for at least a few moments. When
his tumbler was empty, however, he realized he couldn’t put it off anymore; and the gator’s brow
was lifting higher and higher with every second that passed, his stare growing more and more
impatient. At last the young man murmured, soft and shy, that he wasn’t sure about that deal.
“Well, it’s the only one you’re getting, boy. No bee-eff, no job.” Cade shrugged, leaning back in
his chair, and settled his hands on his rotund belly. Peering at the human through narrowed,
predatory eyes. Watching every shift of both the young man’s posture and expression.
The silence grew stifling, every beat of the human’s heart pounding in his flushed ears. He
looked to the window, to the liquor cabinet, down to the emptied glass still in his hand; anywhere
but at the gator. It was only the tingling throb of the ambrosia running through his veins that kept
him from collapsing into a babbling, nervous wreck. He needed the job; it was his one chance,
his one opportunity. Otherwise he’d have to return to his dingy, run-down, one-bedroom
apartment in the human quarters, and try to figure out another way to pay his rent that month.
To keep food in his belly. To survive.
Finally, the young man nodded. He stammered and stuttered. He would take the gator’s deal.
Almost immediately, Cade’s face broke into a wide and toothy grin. “Good boy. Now…” He
turned his chair to the side, just a little, and crooked a finger at the young man. “Why don’t you
come over to this side of the desk? Lemme get a better look at you.” Again his tongue flicked
out, dragging over his lips as he rumbled. “Maybe a little taste.”
A shudder. A twinge in his belly. A nod as the human assented, calling the gator ‘Mr. McGrewl’
as he moved around the desk; but as soon as the words passed the young man’s lips, Cade
snorted and shook his head.
“Nah, none of that. You’re gonna be my personal little human toy, Anon, and you’re gonna act
like it.” Without the shield of the desk between them, and much closer than before, the human
could see just how bulky and heavyset the gator was. His gut straining the buttons of his shirt.
The tightness of the slacks he was wearing. And—as his gaze dropped to the floor—how big the
bulge between the slabs of the reptile’s thighs was. Cade palmed that bulge, growling and
purring as he leaned back in his chair and spread his legs; an expectant upward perk of his
brow made it clear that the man was to move forward, forward, until he was standing between
those powerful limbs. “When it’s just us two, you call me ‘daddy’, boy. Understand?”
Again, the human nodded. Again, the knot in his stomach tightened. Again he stuttered out his
understanding, and then murmured that word to the gator; to his daddy.
“Good boy.” Large, calloused hands grabbing the human’s hips. “Good boy, son.” Thick fingers
rubbing and caressing his sides through the fabric of his shirt. “Second rule, if you’re gonna
work for me, you’re gonna need to look the part.” Those deep-green, burning eyes—filled with
open and shameless lust—staring right into his own; the pair were right at eye-level, even with
the gator hunched down into his seat. “I’ll take you to get your new uniform when we clock out
tonight. But for now… get these clothes off.”
The human gulped, and murmured out another acquiescence, and began to unbutton his own
pressed white shirt; and immediately, as soon as the smooth expanse of his slim chest and belly
were exposed, Cade surged forward. The gator pressed his scaly snout to the human’s bared
flesh, nuzzling and snuffling. Groaning. Letting out a long, protracted moan as something slick
and thick—the anthro’s tongue—dragged over the young man’s stomach. “Fuck, that’s it. That’s
that taste I remember…”
Another lick. Another. Another as the human shrugged his shirt off, staying still and letting the
gator’s hands and oral muscle explore as they pleased. Over each of his pert nipples, swirling
around the sensitive buds. Up and down his belly. Delving into his navel. And when the gator
tugged on the waistband of his pants with an impatient grunt, and the man quickly undid his belt
and fly to push his slacks and underwear down together, Cade pushed down to grind his broad
nose into the curls of the human’s pubes.
“Oh goddamn… you smell amazing, son…”
With a blush, and a stammer in his voice, the young man thanked Cade—his new boss, his new
master, his new daddy—for the compliment. His own hands rubbed and kneaded the gator’s
broad shoulders, tentative with their touch. But when they only elicited a rumble of
approval—and when Cade dipped down to lap at the man’s balls, the crook of his thigh, and
then along the slim shaft of the human’s pert erection—he couldn’t stop them from travelling up
to stroke at the back of Cade’s neck. The broad, smooth crown of his head. Grasping as he
whined and bucked against the anthro’s face.
“Mm… see, boy? I knew you wanted it.” The young man’s clenched eyes cracked open to meet
Cade’s grinning gaze. One of the gator’s massive mitts engulfed the human’s cock, giving it a
tender squeeze before beginning to pump, while the other unbuttoned the anthro’s shirt. Undid
his belt. Unzipped his fly, pulled it open, and fished the gator’s much longer, much thicker, much
more virile manhood out into the open. And the human watched as that yellow-scaled, built,
supple chest and ample belly were bared. As Cade exposed the darker-hued scales of his
crotch. As that smooth, gargantuan shaft was freed to pulse and dribble and fill the air with its
own overtly-masculine scent. “You’re a good boy who knows a human’s place, aren’t you.”
A nod; he was.
“You wanna let daddy do anything he pleases with you, don’t you.” Another nod; he did.
“Turn around and bend over, son.” With a reluctant moan, Cade pulled away from the young
man’s crotch. Stroking his erection. Fondling and teasing the human’s balls. Smiling with
almost-paternal affection. “Let’s let daddy get a look at that ass of yours, huh?”
With another murmur—another shaky whine of that word, ‘daddy’—the young man obeyed. He
turned around. He bent over the desk, feeling paper and wood pressing against his bared
abdomen. He jerked and stiffened when his slacks were tugged down to his ankles, and then a
pair of large, rough, calloused hands grabbed his asscheeks. “Mm… nice and big and soft. Just
the way I like ‘em.”
Another shaky bit of gratitude was cut off as his rump was pulled wide open, and then a scaly
snout pushed into his cleft. Grinding up and down the length of it, from the top curve of his ass
down to the humid pit right behind his ballsack. Rubbing and nuzzling right on the tender pucker
of his hole as air puffed and flowed over it; Cade sniffing deep, and then letting out a humid
breath right onto the clenching ring. “You a virgin, boy?”
He was.
A chuckle. A slurp. A low appreciative groan. “You won’t be for long.” And then the gator was
licking him. Swirling that wide, slick tongue around and around his rim. Pushing and prodding
against the center of it, until—with a grunt from behind and a reedy whine from the human—it
slipped into the young man’s back passage. The penetration stung just a little bit, his untouched
inner walls being probed and stretched and wetted by that oral muscle, but both the drink and
the ambrosia mulled the man’s mind. Filled him with warmth. Loosened the knot in his gut, and
allowed him to enjoy his very first rimjob.
In and out. In and out. Pushing in, swirling all around, and then pulling out to lap at his relaxing
entrance. And then that tongue was replaced by a thick, insistent finger sinking into his depths
to feel them out. To seek—and to find—the tiny bud in his inner walls which turned the pain of
penetration into a sweet-burning fire in his groin. To stretch him further for what was to come;
that digit was joined by another, and then another, and then they scissored apart within him to
test the limits of his clamping inner walls.
And all the while, the human bucked his hips. Moaned. Squirmed and whimpered and whined
as the warmth intensified within him. The whirlwind raged in his mind, scattering his thoughts
about. He panted and gasped, and allowed the gator to do anything the anthro pleased with
him.
Finally, those fingers pulled out of his ass. Finally, there was a groan from behind as Cade stood
and moved up behind the young man. Finally, something longer and thicker and pulsing with the
gator’s heartbeat—his cock—slid between the man’s soft and cushy asscheeks before pressing
against the opened pit of his hole. “You ready, boy?” There was a puff of breath right on his
earlobe, and then the young man felt a kiss—tender and gentle—against his temple. “Ready for
daddy to fuck you, Anon?” A gulp. A shiver. A moan; he wanted it.
Cade pushed, and prodded, and finally popped his cockhead through the ring of the young
man’s anus. The human gasped as it ground against his inner walls, and took in a hissing
breath through his teeth as the shaft began to slide into him, and let out a long groan as he felt
the pudge of Cade’s gut settle onto his back. Deeper. Deeper. Pulling back out, working him
open with firm insistence, and then being shoved in deeper. Until it was hilted inside of him, until
the gator’s pendulous ballsack pressed against his crotch, until he felt that entire length filling
his back passage. Cade murmured sweet nothings into the young man’s ear as he reached
around to grasp his boy’s own flagging erection; pumping it back to hardness as he gave his boy
time to adjust.
“Shh. Relax, son. Daddy’s got you. I got you, Anon…”
And the human cooed and murmured to the anthro in return as he pressed up against that bulk
atop him. As he felt that tender, paternal, overtly-masculine presence engulfing him. As he
bucked his hips and craned his neck to let Cade kiss along his neck and shoulder. And when
the gator began to thrust, to rock his own hips, to slam his crotch against the human’s soft
backside, he cried out loud at the pleasure which arced through him like a bolt of lightning.
In and out. In and out. Pushing in to hilt inside his boy, grinding his balls against the young
man’s taint, and then pulling back out to do it all over again. Going faster and harder and
deeper, until Cade let out a loud cry of his own while erupting into his new human boytoy; and at
the same time, the stroking hand wrapped around the young man’s erection—combined with the
feeling of being rutted by a big, strong anthro man—sent him over the edge of orgasm in turn. At
last the pair collapsed into a panting, groaning, sated heap over the gator’s desk, the human
completely engulfed by the anthro’s warmth and bulk.
Cade pulled his cum-drenched hand out from under the human, bringing it to his mouth so he
could lap up the young man’s seed with a soft and hungry moan. He slurped and slavered all
over his palm and digits until every single musky, salty-sweet drop had disappeared down his
gullet. Then he grinned, and laughed, and pressed a kiss to his boy’s nape. “Fuck, Anon. You’ve
got the best hole I’ve ever nutted in, hands down. Tightest, too…”
The young man swallowed down his own panting, and craned his neck to peek over his
shoulder and offer his gratitude for the compliment; however, he was cut off with a sharp gasp
as that softening length which had opened him up slid out of his back passage. He could feel
the sticky warmth which had been pumped into him dribbling back out, down his inner thighs
and the back of his emptied ballsack. He could feel his tenderized inner walls grasping and
clamping around the sudden absence within him. He could feel large, strong, gentle hands
hauling him up, setting him on his feet, and turning him around to rest upon a cushy, heaving
chest and belly.
To be petted and caressed all over as he was held in a firm yet tender embrace.
To have his head tilted back so he could meet Cade’s warm and lust-filled gaze before the gator
dipped down into a kiss with the human.
As Cade’s tongue pushed into his mouth, the young man could taste both his own semen and
the faint echoes of the scotch they had both been drinking. And he could feel the roughness of
the gator’s scaly lips, and the awkwardness between their different mouth structures; but the
anthro was patient as he guided the human into a more comfortable position, letting them press
in together. And when at last he chanced pushing his own tongue back against the wriggling,
exploring intrusion, the quiet rumble in Cade’s throat sent a flutter through the young man’s
chest.
They pulled back, gasping for breath. They stared into one another’s eyes. The human ducked
his head, shy and embarrassed, and the anthro let out a purring laugh. “You got the job, son.
Hope you’re ready to work… and I don’t just mean this little human ass of yours.”
The young man gulped. He clutched at the larger, stronger body against which he rested. He bit
his lip with a whimper when that saliva-slickened hand gave his asscheek a playful smack, and
then nodded while letting his burning cheek rest on the gator’s broad chest; he was ready to
serve his boss. His master. His daddy.
Time passed, days and weeks blending together and turning into months, as the young man
settled into his new position as Cade McGrewl’s clerk. He ran papers and reports back and
forth, made copies, got coffee for the gator, and in general assisted with anything he or his
employees needed. It was good, honest work, and allowed the human to make a decent salary;
far better than what many other humans could make. So all in all, he was content.
Of course, his ‘uniform’—a skimpy thong, socks on his feet, a collar around his throat, and the
smile on his face—took a long while to get used to. He’d been embarrassed—ashamed—when
Cade had taken him to get outfitted for it, sitting with the human in the back of his limo as they
drove from the office, to the boutique, and at last to the young man’s flat. And the first time he’d
gone around in it, getting catcalls from nearly every anthro on the floor—as well as a few gropes
on his ass and pert bulge—had been humiliating. But eventually he came to enjoy the stares,
and even the touches; for he, and every single other employee at the conglomerate, knew well
that he was Cade’s alone.
To smell, holding the young man in his firm grip while snuffling at his human boytoy’s chest and
ass and crotch.
To taste, licking and lapping and slurping every exposed inch of skin; and when they were alone
in the gator’s office, that thong was slid down his thighs to give his boss and master and daddy
access to the real prize Cade coveted.
To fuck, to rut, bending the man over his desk and laying him down on his back to slide that
virile anthro erection to the hilt in his ass and gullet.
And the human smelled, and tasted, and explored every inch of his gator daddy in turn. Stroking
that pulsing shaft before licking and suckling upon it. Taking one of those cum-filled balls and
then the other into his mouth in turn, lavishing his affections on the scaly sack. Even being
pulled down lower, his tongue and lips on Cade’s taint and taut asshole to pleasure the gator
there as well. Anytime his daddy wanted it. Anywhere.
Cade would fuck his boytoy in the office. Let himself into the human’s flat. Invite the young man
to his manor, to his bed, for a long and passionate night of lovemaking. And even beyond the
sex, the man was lavished with gifts by his daddy. Repairs to his flat that had been set on the
backburner for years. Enough food to keep him happy and healthy and well-fed. Any little
extravagance or luxury he dared to ask for; and of course, a steady supply of ambrosia.
And so, time passed. The pair grew closer and closer, the human’s reluctance and shame giving
way to sweet and eagerly-given affection exchanged with the anthro. Cade could still be a strict
master at times, but more and more that façade would melt away when they were alone, leaving
only the tenderness of a caretaker and boyfriend rolled into one large, scaly package. And one
late night, as they laid together in the gator’s—in their--bed while pressing their nude,
sweat-soaked bodies against one another, Cade popped the question that would change their
lives forever.
His massive, rough-scaled, but so-gentle hand cupped his boy’s burning cheek, and the anthro
looked deep into the human’s eyes with a quiet rumble. “You wanna move in with me, son?” The
tip of his snout brushed the young man’s nose, and his tongue flicked out against the other’s
lips. “Make this thing we got… you know… official?”
The human smiled. His own hand moved up to stroke the gator’s own—warm, flushed—cheek.
Surrounded by the anthro’s presence, feeling tears of joy brimming in his eyes, the young man
said the only thing he could in response to his big, strong, loving daddy’s proposal: ‘yes’.
They kissed, their lips locking together with well-practiced ease. Cade’s tongue surged forward
like a roiling tide to explore every nook and cranny of his human’s mouth, and the young man
surrendered to the anthro’s passion with a moan of bliss. The gator shifted atop him, rolling
them over so that the smaller, weaker man was on his back while the larger, stronger one was
looming over him, and then the human felt his legs being lifted and spread.
Felt the prodding, the pushing, the familiar sensation of his daddy’s fat cocktip kissing the
clamping ring of his entrance.
Felt another surge overtaking him, this time of the anthro’s monolithic cock sliding into his hole.
Slow, and yet easy. Like a key fitting into a lock. His back passage welcomed the girthy shaft
into its depths, and the sensation of being stretched, being filled, being loved by the massive
male drew another keen of sweet pleasure from his throat; a keen that was muffled by another
hungry kiss from the purring, rumbling gator.
Cade fucked him. Rutted him. Pounded the human’s tight ass, the sound of scales smacking
against flesh joining the chorus of their voices in a symphony of lovemaking. In and out. Harder
and faster and deeper. The steady rhythm echoed in every pump and stroke and squeeze of the
anthro’s hand around the human’s own throbbing erection. When at last they orgasmed, it was
together; Cade pumped his load deep into his boy, while the young man blew his all over
himself. His chest. His stomach. His daddy’s hand, to be slurped up by the gator with a low,
appreciative, love-and-lust-filled croon.
Then, while the pair were engulfed in the warm blanket of their respective afterglows, the gator
wrapped the human up in his arms. The young man tucked his face into the broad, firm expanse
of the anthro’s chest, and Cade ran his broad fingers through his boy’s hair while pressing
tender kisses to the human’s temple. And at last, curled up together—smelling and tasting and
feeling the other—the two of them drifted off into a deep and restful slumber. Daddy and son.
Generous master and beloved boytoy. An anthro and his human lover.
The world had changed; and for that pair, at least, it was for the better