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There was a troll in one of Henry's classes. Like, a literal one. 10:00AM, Hawkins Hall, CHEM 125B, Principles of Chemistry. Henry had scrambled in nearly-late, not yet entirely on schedule for a class that early, and had taken a seat all the way up in the back without really consciously noticing just who he was sitting next to.

The troll was in, Henry realized on reflection, the dimmest corner of the room, away from the bank of windows on the other side of the room and the indirect light from the hallway skylights down by the door. For all that he (probably 'he'?) was avoiding the sunlight, he wasn't really dressed for it -- a ragged undershirt that had huge tears up one side, revealing a broad wedge of bare... hide above his waist, and a pair of mesh shorts that ended just before his knees. He had a pair of huge black sunglasses covering his face, perched on an inhumanly long nose.

Plus, he was a troll. He didn't fit into the seat at all. His knobbly legs stuck out past the underside of the desk, and his clawed feet were resting on the arms of the seat the next row down. Even sitting and slouching he was probably about as tall as Henry would be standing up; he towered over Henry in his seat. The troll looked lean and stick-like just from how tall he was, but up close it was clear that his spindly arms and legs were far thicker than Henry's; he was just so much taller that his proportions were all strange. He was doodling on a scrap of paper, loops and lopsided stars, and the pen looked more like a toothpick in his hands -- his hands were huge even on his gigantic body, the ridge of his knuckles looking nearly a foot across, and when he splayed out his fingers they'd probably be bigger than Henry's entire torso.

Also he was purple and covered in warts. Or maybe it was more like blisters, a bubbling froth that covered his entire body in waxy bunches. His hide was a muddy purple, becoming thicker and richer where he was most blistered, growing to a deep emerald-purple color. His hair was done in thick dreadlocks, spilling down nearly to the floor behind him, and daubed with something like old candlewax, white-green. The hanks were completely smooth, the only crinkles and cracks showing on the surface near the root, where thinner strands were coiled around larger ones.

Henry realized he was staring, though, and looked away quickly, only to realize as he did that the troll's face had been angled at him the entire time, and with the sunglasses on the troll had probably been staring right back. He turned back to stare down at his desk, blushing furiously, and didn't even notice the instructor entering the room until he started talking.

---

So that was the class. Henry spent most of it distracted. Afterwards, though:

"Hey, can I, uh, borrow your hoodie?" the troll said. "I really wasn't expecting it to be this bright."

"Uh," Henry said, shrugging out of it. "Sure?"

The troll draped the hoodie over his shoulders and then shrugged, tugging his dreads up and to the side to get them out from under the fabric, in a motion that seemed like it took minutes.

"Uh, we kinda petrify in direct sunlight. It's a mess." And then, "Oh," he said, turning back to him like he'd forgotten. "I'm Kraggurok; Rok to basically everybody, hey, sup."

"Henry," Henry said.

The moved out of the classroom, to the building's exit, and Rok gingerly approached the line on the floor where the sun shone through the doorway. He inhaled and then burst out into a dash, running with Henry's hoodie draped over his shoulders, yelping as he dashed across the quad. Henry followed, running full-out to try and keep up with Rok's loping strides -- it didn't take that long to get to Rok's dorm building, but Rok hit the doorway a full ten seconds before Henry did, stepping inside and lurking into some shadow, only reaching out to shove the door open so Henry could get inside. Henry doubled over, panting to catch his breath, dimly aware of Henry skirting around the huge splash of sunlight. The door was glass, and the wall beside it was also glass, painting the floor and most of a wall in sunlight.

Rok was steaming, smoke wisping out from him in plumes. His purple hide had gone grey in splotches, petrified into thick spars of stone basically all over the place.

"Woah, are you okay?"

Rok rolled his shoulders, and a sheet of rock peeled off his forearm and crashed to the ground, exploding into chunks. Rok made a face at the rubble. "Yeah, I'm fine. It heals up like, instantly. C'mon." And he lead Henry out of the sunlit foyer into the darker hallway beyond, up the dimly-lit rear stairs and then up the stairs.

In the stairwell: "I guess they got way more nonhuman students this year than they expected, so I ended up in a human dorm. Above ground. It kinda sucks, but at least I got a double to myself," Rok explained, animated despite how he was petrified into splotchy blocks, chunks of stone occasionally peeling away as Rok scratched between gestures, the crash of rubble cascading down the steps echoing loudly in the concrete stairwell.

Four flights up, Rok shoved open the stairwell door; his dorm was at the end of the hall. The inside of Rok's room was dim: he'd drawn the blinds and then hung a sheet over the window, so there was only a dim filtration of light out at the edges.

Rok immediately flopped down onto the floor with a groan -- as Henry eyes adjusted to the dimness, he could see that Rok had taken both the mattresses off the beds and laid them out next to each other between the two frames, which given the size of the room meant that there was a few square feet of floorspace by the door, and then the entire rest of the room was taken up by the mattresses and the now-bare bedframes. Rok stretched, groaning deeply, and even with both mattresses... the proportions weren't right; with them side-by-side his arms and legs still hung off the side. Rok squirmed, shimmying his shoulders against his bedsheets. The rocky petrification cracked apart as so much dust, his groan turning into a whine as he flopped over onto his back, forearm still over his eyes.

Henry closed the door, realizing he was still just standing there in the frame, and that cut off nearly all the remaining light, plunging the room into a twilight darkness. He blinked, the lighting in the room seeming off, and slowly realized -- Rok's hair was glowing, dimly phosphorescent, the thick wax giving off a pale green-white glow.

"Still not used to how bright it is," Rok said. "Back in the Great Swamp we could go around at midday, no problems. I should've taken night classes, I guess, but..." he trailed off, shrugging. A shard of rock across his shoulders caught on the sheets and came partially dislodged, and he scratched at it, peeling it off like shed skin.

"It's so itchy," he said, scratching, claws digging under the edges of the rock shards, peeling them off one by one. "Hey, help me out?" he asked, talons still hooked into the rim of a particularly stubborn chunk of rock on his shoulder. He'd pushed his shirt up as he twisted around, and there was a flat spread of rock visible right over his hip, just next to his tail, its rough surface vanishing just under the waist of his shorts.

Henry took a step closer, hands reaching but not quite touching. Rok really stretched the bounds of 'humanoid'; he was a stick-thin giant but he looked nearly hunchbacked under the muscle across his shoulders and back, and his gut was swollen in what would be a potbelly, except for the thick ridges of muscle across his hips and stomach. He was a towering giant, and that was with his exaggerated slouch; actually laid out on the floor he seemed even taller. All his proportions were so wrong; the warted purple skin was nothing in comparison.

Rok glanced over, seeing Henry just standing there, and shimmied a little closer, pressing his side against Henry hands. Rok's skin was burning hot, rough with waxy warts. "C'mon, dig in," he said.

Henry slid his hands down until he touched the lip of a rocky scab, skin all the hotter at the seam where his flesh met the petrified rock. Henry dug in, fingernails scrabbling at the rock. It gave, slightly, with a soft kind of sound, and Henry pulled harder, skin squelching as the rock peeled off like so much sunburnt skin, revealing pale purple skin, oozing clear fluid and already bubbling up with fresh blisters as troll regeneration kicked in. Rok groaned, stubby tail thumping back and forth.

"Yeah, that's it," he groaned, sprawling across the bed, twisting more to align the next rocky blotch under Henry's fingers, down his thigh, vanishing under the waist of his shorts. Henry slid his fingers around the edge, looking for a place to grip, and Rok hooked a talon on his shorts and dragged them down, half the curve of his ass on display.

Henry swallowed, flushing, Rok's skin just so, so hot, minutely damp with the watery lymph oozing from under the rocks. He dug in, peeling away the other slab, and Rok let out a deep, rumbling groan, vibrating under him.

Rok twisted, sharp little pebbles cascading down his hide. He went, "Oh, hey, hold on a sec," and lifted Henry up one-handed, moving him as easily as picking up a textbook, the flat of his spread hand as big as a seat.

Rok shucked off his shirt in one easy motion and used it as a rag to dust off the bed, a spray of rock shards falling down to the carpet, and then hooked Henry in one huge arm and pulled him right back in, pressed up against Rok's bare skin.

Rok's bare chest was just as thickly warted as the rest of his skin; Henry'd seen most of it in glimpses already, his shirt didn't cover him up much. Lean pectorals; no nipples, unless they were buried under all the warts. Rok stretched again, pecs stretching up with the motion, hide creaking. He groaned and held the position, fully outstretched arms nearly long enough to wrap around the rim of the upper bunk, and Henry was hit again by just how huge he was, all lanky limbs curled in tight until he did something like that.

Rok twisted again, bare back on display, a messy splotch of rock still stuck just under his shoulder blade. Henry dug in, fingernails catching on the rim and peeling it away in a single sheet, Rok moaning under him. The sheet of rock was nearly the size of a dinner plate, old warts and lumps frozen in place; the greenish flesh beneath bubbled up, thick sap-like lymph smearing over his raw skin, forming a new collection of thick warts, all different.

"Fuck, thanks," Rok said, panting a little, scratching at his fresh skin. "I really wasn't ready for all the--" and he waved his hand vaguely, "-- sunlight, you know, whatever."

"Are you, uh--" Henry said, pausing as he cast around for however people were supposed to say it. "Not from around here?"

Rok laughed a little. "Yeah, I guess. It's like, the swamp? Way over there--" and he pointed in a direction Henry assumed was like, some kinda cardinal direction. "I think it's on your maps as uh the Nightwoods or something like that."

"You're from a place called the Nightwoods??"

Rok rolled over. "Well, that's not what we call it. But sure."

"What do you call it?"

"'M from Defilement Hall, it's the biggest encampment down there. But, you know, in troll. The whole place is called, like... Death Pit? I guess, but that's not a real great translation. Sounds way better in troll."

"Um, right."

"But it's like-- there are fumes there? It's always foggy so the sun isn't really a big deal. I really wasn't expecting it to be so, like, bright." Rok glared over at the window, dingy cracks of sunlight still managing to peek around the edges of the sheets he'd hung up. "Getting to class is such a mess."

"So, it's like, a troll city or something?"

"I guess? Well, there're humans down in Defilement Hall, but they're not really... like you."

"Like me?"

"Like... they're all purple, spit poison. Like I guess everything there is poisonous? To humans. Most of 'em wear animal skulls 'n shit. I wasn't expecting all y'all to be so, like. Short." He gestured a hand at hip height, which, Rok might be tall but Henry wasn't that short. "I keep hitting my head on the doorframes." He laughed a little, self-consciously. "But it's mostly trolls, yeah."

"Huh," Henry said. "Sounds weird." And then: "I mean, not that--"

"Hah, nah, it's cool," Rok said.

Henry sat there for a second in what he felt was increasingly awkward silence, painfully aware of the burning heat of Rok's body right next to him.

"But, yeah, man, thanks for helping me out back there." Rok broke the silence, thankfully, and pulled Henry into a handshake that ended with him getting pulled forward to smack against Rok's chest for a second and then released.

Henry stood, aware that Rok sitting was only a foot or so taller than him standing. He kind of... loitered, wondering if he should go, wondering if he should stay, and apparently Rok read some of the nervousness in his spine.

"But, hey, you gotta go right now? We could chill for a while." Rok slumped down against the rim of one of the bedframes, sprawled out and shirtless, arms hooked back across the plywood of the bare bunk, knuckles rapping out an erratic rhythm.

Henry tried to look anywhere that wasn't directly at Rok. "Uh, my next class isn't until -- a while. From now. So I could stay. I guess," Henry said. mentally hitting himself after every awkward blurt. Heat was rising across his face; he hoped he wasn't visibly blushing. Given how much he flushed, he considered himself lucky it didn't really show on his dark skin.

"Well, c'mon, sit." Rok tapped the mattress next to him, and then turned, grabbing something from under the bed. "You mind if I...?" he said, a big round thing in his hand, grabbed from under the bed, and -- oh, right. That was a bong.

"Uh, no, go ahead," Henry said.

"Cool, cool," Rok said, flipping up the lid of what had just looked like a nondescript black chunk of darkness under the windowsill, rummaging through it until he pulled out what Henry could only assume was an entire, like, branch of weed, thick and full of stems, digging one of his claws into it to pull out clumps. Buds. Stems? Probably? He did something Henry didn't really follow, claws shredding something, or tearing something apart, and then wedged something into the bowl. There was a muted slosh as he poured some water into it; Henry just watched Rok's hands grip and curl around the smooth glass.

There was a spark of light as Rok held his lighter to the bowl long enough for the weed to start to glow, and then he held his palm against the top of the chamber, letting smoke collect inside in a dense, black fog. Henry just watched Rok's hand flutter, the movement stirring the smoke inside in rippling waves as it built up, until finally Rok pressed his mouth to the top of the chamber and sucked it all up in a long, slow inhale, sitting there frozen for a long moment before he exhaled in a cloud of grey-black fog, sharply pungent smell hitting Henry's nose as the cloud rippled out. "You wanna?" Rok said, raising the bong, and --

"Um, sure." Henry said. "But it's, uh, been a while, so..." which was a total, absolute lie. He had never seen a bong before in his life. He'd never seen a joint before in his life. He kind of fumbled, grabbing the chamber like he's seen Rok do, covering the mouthpiece, abruptly realizing he didn't have enough hands to use it like that. He was absolutely sure he was flushing at this point. Hopefully he didn't look purple.

He took the lighter from Rok's hand, balancing the bong in his lap, and tried to mimic what he'd done: putting the flame to the herb until it started to glow, and then... something? He mimicked Rok's rip, pressing his mouth over the pipe and inhaling. The second the smoke hit his throat he started coughing: the taste was raw, burning his throat, rough and heavy. He pulled away, all the smoke billowing up around him as he coughed, gasping for breath, eyes watering. Rok pulled the bong out of his hands, pulling him out of the shroud of smoke.

"Oh, shit, sorry, that's pretty strong for humans, huh? Sorry 'bout that."

"Yeah," Henry croaked, voice rasping. "Sorry," he said, and then felt like an idiot for saying sorry.

"No worries." Rok pressed something into his hands, smooth plastic, round, and he cracked his eyes open to see it was his water bottle. Henry drank, still sputtering a little, but that stopped the tremors in his throat.

"Lemme try something," Rok said, picking the bong up again, lighting the cherry and letting smoke build up inside until it was dense black fog, rippling low in the chamber. He pressed his mouth to the tip, inhaling slowly, and then put it aside, pulling Henry solidly into his lap, huge arms hooked down his back. Rok slumped down until they were face-to-face, and his lips parted minutely, a wisp of black smoke spilling down his chin. His hands cupped Henry's jaw, fingers reaching all the way to his hairline. The webs of his hand made leathery folds, big ridges pressed up against Henry's skin. His claws tugged on Henry's face, tipping it up, and then Henry's leathery lips pressed against his; Henry opened his mouth as Rok exhaled, breathing in the smoky breath -- smoke still rough and burning down his throat, but tempered somehow, less -- smoky. The weed hit a second later, a heavy thrum running through him, like his entire body was a string that had been plucked.

Rok shifted back, lips trailing across Henry's cheek before he straightened his back, looking down at Henry sitting childlike in his lap. "Better?" A final wisp of smoke spilled out of Rok's mouth, sinking down in a loose coil as it diffused.

Henry nodded. "Yeah."

"You feeling it now?"

Rok was touching him all over, and his warted hide was burning hot to the touch, feverish. The air was hazy with smoke, stirring in slow clouds, heat creeping up under Henry's shirt, soaking through his jeans. His hands were wrapped around Rok's huge forearm, steadying him to keep him from tipping to the side. "Yeah," he said, slowly.

"Want another hit?" Rok asked, and Henry just nodded, face pressed against his chest.

Henry was painfully aware of his dick stirring in his jeans, thickening slowly as they sat there together, the bizarre inhuman muscles of Rok's chest shifting and sliding under his thickly warted skin. They were touching everywhere: Rok's arm slung over his shoulder, his chest pressed against Henry's, hot through his clothes and even hotter where their bare skin touched. Rok's hands moved behind his back, bong in one hand, lighter in the other. The chamber of the bong pressed against his back, smooth and glassy, as Rok leaned over Henry's shoulder to take another hit. There was a dry chack of his lighter sparking, followed by a slow inhale, Rok's chest expanding slow. Henry had to shy back a little, canting his hips up so his half-hard dick didn't dig into Rok's side; the motion stilled halfway when Rok drew up, black smoke spilling down from his open mouth, and kissed Henry again. Rok's tongue swiped across his lower lip as he exhaled; one long, steady breath that went straight into Henry's lungs, a secondhand hit so prolonged Henry was dizzy and gasping by the end, panting out little breaths of heavy smoke.

Henry pushed himself up from his slump, room spinning around him, and grasped Rok to brace himself, one hand clapped over the swell of his shoulder, the other splayed across his chest, gasping for air in the smoky room. Dimly, though, he realized he was really pressed up against Rok: his legs were hooked over Rok's hips, shirt rucked up, jean-clad cock pressed what had to be noticeably against the pudge of Rok's stomach.

"Uh," Henry said, flushing hard, trying to squirm out of Rok's lap, "S-sorry, I just..." he said, room burning hot, sweat dripping down his back.

Rok caught his hand by the wrist when he tried to push away, fingers wrapping all the way up to his elbow, and tugged him forward. Rok reached back with his other hand, cupping his ass, fingers splayed, and pulled him forward again, pressing him flush to Rok's chest, trapped cock grinding up against Rok's belly. Henry groaned, heat surging up through him white-hot, a soft moan spilling from his lips.

"It's cool," Rok said, thumb swiping up and down across his hip, stroking lower over his revealed skin, and slid his hand down between them, palm grinding over Henry's cock. "No problem, right?" He grinned, huge dagger teeth on sharp display for a second before he leaned in, pressing kisses up Henry's neck. Henry moaned again, Rok's chuckle a bass vibration rumbling through his neck. Rok's teeth were like sharkskin, not smooth at all, even the flats sharp, or rough like sandpaper, and his teeth glanced across his skin during the kisses, leaving behind raw marks, like scratches.

"I was kinda hoping you were down for this, actually," Rok said when he pulled back, punctuating with a kiss to Henry's lips, tongue darting out and swiping across his face, all black and covered in glossy warts.

"Oh, I mean... I've never, um," Henry said, stumbling over his words, dimly aware that he, uh, probably would not have actually said that.

"Oh?" Rok didn't look, like, offended that Henry was a virgin. "Well, you wanna now?"

Henry looked at Rok, all lumpy warted skin, huge stick limbs, backlit by his dimly-glowing dreads, eyes sometimes catching the indirect light and turning into flatly-grey discs. "Um, yeah, yes, definitely."

Rok laughed a little, low in his throat, and pulled back minutely, laugh sliding up into more of a giggle as Henry whined and squirmed closer. "Well, good, because I've been hoping for it since I saw you." He grabbed the hem of Henry's shirt and pulled it up over his head, knocking his glasses askew. Henry blinked, angles all wrong with one lens knocked up to his forehead, and plucked his glasses off, placing them on the plywood frame of the bed next to him. Everything else was a messy blur, but Rok was close enough to be clear. Rok dipped his head, black tongue slavering from his mouth, lapping down Henry's narrow chest, twitching left and then right to curl around his nipples, hands reaching down after he cast Henry's shirt aside to tug on them both. Probably Rok was into that because he didn't have any. He pinched Henry's nipples in his huge claws, tugging and then twisting as Henry groaned, exhales coming out as sharp little whimpers.

Henry just hung on, hands clutching Rok's gigantic biceps as he tipped the both of them back, pinning Henry down in his nest of sheets, head bobbing up and down as his tongue slavered down his chest, teeth nipping in its wake, hand splayed between Henry's legs, grinding against his cock, keeping a steady rhythm as Henry bucked and writhed.

Henry moaned, rocking forward, gasping at each new touch, heat building across his chest, burning down his stomach to coil in his hips, the scrape of Rok's claws and teeth electric. He found himself rutting up into Rok's grip, hands sliding over Rok's lumpy hide until his hands wrapped around Rok's wrist, shaky moans bursting from his lips, until --

It hit him he was gonna come a few seconds before it happened. He went, "Oh god," and jerked backwards out of Rok's embrace, slapping at his hands, "I'm gonna come!" His cock throbbed angrily in his jeans, a trembling spurt into his boxer-briefs that was a slimy mix of pre and come. He was absolutely on the edge, a single touch all that was needed.

Rok looked down at him -- mouth open and panting, chest heaving, cock a huge lump in his jeans. "That a bad thing?"

"I don't wanna come in my pants," Henry said, and Rok laughed again and leaned forward, crawling towards him.

"So out of your pants is fine?" Rok said, claws sliding up Henry's pant leg, catching against the button on his jeans. Rok reached out with his other hand, splaying all up and down Henry's back, and tugged him bodily forwards back into his lap with no more effort than lifting a book, head swooping down to press a kiss across Henry's mouth. He undid the button of Henry's jeans and tugged the zipper down, fabric of his boxer-briefs bulging out, damp and stuck to the arch of his shaft, a wet splotch where his cockhead was pressed up against the fabric.

Rok's claws scraped across the skin of his stomach, zig-zagging down to pry under the waist of his underwear, pressing against the base of his cock. His fingers squirmed underneath a moment later, wrapping around his shaft, tugging the flesh up into his grip, all damp with sweat. His cock fit easily into Rok's huge hand, the entire thing swallowed up, not even spanning two fingers up, the rest closing above the head. Rok stroked him with two fingers, a third fingertip rubbing against his cockhead, smearing his messy gush of pre and come around.

"You wanna come right now?" Rok hissed into his ear, and Henry just groaned, nodding, hips jerking up, cock sliding through Rok's fingers.

Rok shoved his other hand under his underwear and tugged them down his legs to his ankles, knocking his legs open, thigh sliding between them. He laid Henry out on the bed, arms and legs curled around him, head and shoulders pillowed on Rok's chest, practically enveloping Henry's entire body. He worked his thigh against Henry's balls, rubbing up against his tightly-drawn sac, pressure and heat all around him.

"Yeah, come on," Rok said, pumping steadily, claws sliding along Henry's inner thighs, face pressed against his neck, the sharktooth side of his teeth scraping where he was grinning wide. Henry whimpered, hips jerking, thrusting up into Rok's grip, warted skin damp with sweat and pre, wet slurps sounding through the room. He was already so close, the whole -- the whole situation so much more than a hand on his dick, dazed, skin hot, groaning as Rok stroked him off. Sweat spilled down his neck; his every muscle was taut; he whined with each stroke, stomach hollowing out. Just a single touch in the right place and he'd be coming, teetering there almost agonizing. Heat rushed through him, pooling deep in his gut.

Rok's fingers slipped over his cockhead, squeezing just below the crown, thick waxy warts catching along the underside. The touch was like burning sparks, sizzling hot burning up his chest. He wailed, whining, cock erupting with a sharp pulse, come splattering all across Rok's fingers. He shot again, and again, writhing on the bed -- and then jerking in surprise when heat splattered down across him, his shots shooting, arcing up to splatter across his shoulder, down his chest, pulse after pulse erupting out of him under Rok's steady touch.

He went limp afterwards, cock slowly softening in Rok's hand as he kept idly tugging, come squelching between his fingers. Rok collapsed down next to him on the bed, the burn of orgasm fading to a steady throb, Rok draped across his side like a huge blanket, everything hot and dark, body still thrumming with the hazy pleasure of his orgasm.

---

The room was nearly pitch black when Henry woke, the only light a barely-there indirect glow from the covered windows. His eyes had adjusted, but still everything was shadow, grey on black. He stirred and Rok's arms, still wrapped around him, tugged him closer, the huge troll letting out a sleepy whine against the back of his neck.

"Gotta go," Henry said, fingers loosely tangled with Rok's, and Rok mumbled again, body rolling against his bare back, bubbly skin shifting against his.

"Mmm," Rok said, letting Henry go, flopping over on his stomach as he got up. Then he reached out, one huge hand spanning nearly the entire way around his waist. "Gimmie a kiss first," he said, pulling Henry down, sharkskin teeth scraping over Henry's lips, leaving them stinging.

Henry pulled himself up, nearly blind in the darkness. He groped across the span of the bed and then up onto the vacant bedframe until his nails clacked against the rim of his glasses. The room was chill without Rok's burning heat pressed against him, and Henry shivered as he looked for his boxers. His come had dried against his stomach, flaking off as he pulled his clothes on. Rok was still sprawled out across the two mattresses, eyes maybe open a sliver, watching him dress.

"Hey," Rok said quietly, huge hand wrapping loosely around his ankle. "See you around, yeah?"

Henry looked down, a sudden flash of arousal hitting him, just... his body reminding him what they'd just done; what they could be doing again if Henry just got down there and started kissing Rok. "Um," he said, trying to clear his head. "Yeah."

---

The hallway was blindingly bright after the dimness of Rok's room, and Henry had to squint and cover his eyes before they adjusted to even the dingy overhead light. The outside was worse; he closed his eyes and waited for the red to stop being so intense. It felt like it'd been days, but instead, no, he'd managed to neatly fill that awkward block of time between the end of his morning class and the start of his afternoon class. Three hours, that was all.

So that, uh, went on.

The next Chem class had him squirming in his seat the entire time through. Rok had been staring at him. Not all the time, but enough, and every time their eyes met a shot of heat went through Henry from scalp to toes, thinking about what they'd done two days ago.

Afterwards: "Wanna come back to my room...?" Rok said, hand casually wrapped around Henry's hip, fingers rubbing at the skin of his stomach, and Henry just nodded.

---

Back in Rok's dorm, Rok sprawled on his mattresses, idly reaching into what Henry could identify now as a big old trunk that looked a billion years old: black wood, and finished even darker, bound with worn leather and with bronze hinges. It smelled almost like cedar, burnt cedar maybe, wood still fragrant even after so long.

And it was packed full of... probably drugs? There was Rok's bong, and a bundle as big as his forearm of what Henry recognized as the black swampweed they'd smoked, but that was just the top layer. Rok grabbed the bong, and Henry looked in over his shoulder.

"So, uh, what else do you got in there?" Henry asked, mostly just curious. It was a big chest.

Rok bowed down low, teeth scraping along his side, laughter bursts of hot wet breath curling over his skin. "Wanna get high off troll drugs, huh? S'cool. Most of it's ritual shit, and most of the rest of it is... I mean, I got a bunch of stuff that'd probably just straight-up kill you. You guys are like, really... delicate. Uh, no offense."

"Uh, I mean, I guess if you got..." and then he paused, not really sure where he could be going with that sentence.

Rok peeled off Henry's side and went back to shuffling through the chest, revealing thick bunches of herbs and cloth bags full of dusty powder. He stacked them up in a big, unstable-looking tower: "Not that, not that, not that," just kind of mumbling to himself. He held up a vial of brilliant green goo, bubbling like it was boiling. "That's nightmare toxin; like, for me it's okay but for humans I think it takes like... five moons to wear off? Or fifteen? I don't really remember." He put that one on the 'no' pile.

"Why do you even have that?" Henry couldn't help sounding a little incredulous.

Rok shrugged. "Sometimes it's real important to get a nightmare." Then, holding another vial: "How d'you feel about growing horns? You'd shed 'em in fall, I'm pretty sure."

Henry touched his forehead, trying to envision himself with huge deer horns. Or some other kind of horns. "Uh, probably not?"

Rok went through a few other things, before: "Oh, I guess there's this," he said, and it was a thick green-glass jar with a stopper on the top, the insides cloudy through the glass but looking just... black. He opened it up, a weird wax-and-ink kind of smell suffusing the room. "It's just paint really, but like -- humans wear it when we do the drowning festival; it definitely doesn't kill you." He dug his talons into it, clawing out a thick chunk of black paint, stiff enough to only slowly droop and smear together into a smooth-edged blob. "Kinda gives a... laid back kinda high; tingles, gives you a bit of a rush, that kinda thing."

Henry's eyebrows went up at 'drowning festival'. "What's actually in it?"

"Uh, like... there are these plants that grow in the swamp? Big black leaves, lots of real long tangly roots. You take the roots and chop 'em up, cook them until you get a paste. Then you, uhhhh cook that more, until all the sap starts coming out in crystals. You take those, crush them, mix in, uhhhh, spider venom? And the buds from this other tree, like, right in the spring when they're fresh; you burn them down to ash and that makes a base for a bunch of stuff. Plus some other stuff." He shrugged. "It's definitely not gonna hurt you; we also, like, thin it with wine and drink it. But mostly you rub it on your skin."

Rok leaned in, leering, and groped down Henry's stomach with his hand not slathered in weird spider-venom ink, wrapped his fingers around Henry's dick. "Actually," he said, lower, tongue lolling from his mouth, voice gurgling. "They totally smear it on their dicks too. Nipples, all that shit. Says it makes 'em more sensitive. And bigger." He licked a messy stripe across the side of Henry's head, knocking his glasses askew. "You wanna give it a try?"

"Um," Henry said, thinking, squirming, dick dripping pre against Rok's touch. "Yeah, I-- yeah. Let's do that. Should I--" Henry gestured unzipping his pants, and given that -- like, given that he did it by actually brushing against his jeans, jarring Rok's hand wrapped around his dick, probably it would've been better to just do it instead of pantomiming.

"Yeah, get naked, don't wanna stain your clothes." Rok leered, letting his tongue spill out of his mouth. "Just your body," he said, slurring around his tongue, drooling down across Henry's belly.

Henry squirmed out of his jeans, shoving them down to his knees and then kicking them off, awkwardly working his socks off at the same time. He looked over at Rok, still fully-dressed, or at least -- as fully dressed as his ragged tanktop and gym shorts were. "Uh, could you--" Henry started. "I mean, I kinda wanna see you. Um. Naked."

"S'cool," Rok said, somehow already flipping his shirt inside-out over his head before Henry had even finished asking. He just shoved his gym shorts down, kicking them the rest of them off. And like, okay, he had kind of wondered what Rok had, but the weird stubby, like, dick-prong that was there between his legs really wasn't what he expected. Rok noticed him staring and just leered, though. "Hey don't worry about that, you can mess with it later. Right now--" and raised his hand all slathered in weird venom toxin gunk, pressing it against Henry's hip "I wanna get to paint you a little."

Henry gasped a little at the-- coldness? heat? of the touch, the weird ooze maybe burning and maybe cold, a little waxy, leaving purplish streaks everywhere Rok painted it, skin sensitive underneath. It burned as Rok worked it into his flesh, an itching, fiery heat spreading across his side, and as his talons wiped the toxin clear the purplish streaks had deepened into a brilliant purple-black sheen, purple like a bruise spreading over his skin even ahead of Rok's fingers.

"That's more like it," Rok said, mouth open, black tongue hanging out and drool spilling across Henry's stomach, thinning the toxin with spit before scraping his claws down further, fingers smearing down to the base of his shaft and then further behind his balls, working back over the root of his shaft.

He painted across Henry's chest with his other hand, just absent finger-painting motions, smearing black toxin in looping lines over his skin, staining it purple. His skin burned, flushed and oversensitive, even the soft waft of air over him as Rok shifted almost painful, heat settling over him, like it was getting sucked inside through the splotches of toxin-stained skin.

Then Rok drew his fingers up his cock, sloppy with spit and toxin, and wrapped his cock in a squelching grip, stroking him in slow, even strokes, completely coating his shaft in a layer of smeared toxin. Henry groaned, toes curling, back arching, rising up to rut into Rok's loose grip and then collapsing back bonelessly, practically gasping for breath as heat surged through his cock.

The heat burned up Henry's shaft, throbbing almost painful now, engorged to oversensitivity. Rok's fingers squelched, wet heat dribbling behind his balls, shaft throbbing fatter and fatter until it felt like it might burst, skin drawn painfully tight around his thickening shaft. Henry whined and Rok shifted his hand forward, wrapping his oily hands around Henry's cock, thumb swiping up and down the underside of the shaft. His skin thickened, the tightness ebbing as skin grew looser until there were fleshy curves of excess foreskin pillowed along his cockhead. Then Rok's fingers slid back, massaging the root of his cock again, shaft thickening and drawing the new skin taut, back and forth as Henry's cock swelled in hitching, shuddering increments. It was grotesquely fat, veins bulging against the flesh, head brilliant purple as it slapped against Henry's belly.

"Yeahhhh, that's more like it," Rok said, voice rasping. "You humans look all lopsided and weird and, like, tiny. This is way better, even if... I mean, even though you're still pretty small."

Henry reached down clumsily, fingertips tapping the side of his gargantuan shaft and sending it swinging minutely, jerking left and right, thumping solidly against his palm as he tried to wrap his hand around it, palms slick and greasy with the oily paint. His fingers didn't even meet around its girth, now, and just his one touch felt like an electric shock, pleasure burning down through him from the drag of skin on skin. His cock throbbed in his grip, swelling larger, and spat a messy gush of cloudy purplish pre all up his chest, a thick cord oozing from his swollen cockhead down to his taut stomach, cloudy ooze piling up and spilling down his side.

It seemed too big to be attached to him -- a foot long. At least. Thick and swollen, arching up over Henry's taut stomach, shaft bloated wider in the middle, nearly the entire upper half covered in thick folds of loose foreskin, piled up behind the swollen cockhead. Henry pumped it, once, sloppy folds bulging around the head before they spilled over, forming a fat dome of wrinkled flesh jutting out past his cockhead, pre oozing out from inside, before he tugged back, the brilliant purple-black of his cockhead shining out as he peeled his purplish flesh back down the shaft.

"It's not small," Henry said, practically gasping, hips jerking -- the hot air rushing across his cockhead making it twitch and shudder, slit gaping wide to drool out a sloppy stream of pre. He caught it on his fingers, smearing it across the dome of his cockhead, and his cock twitched and gushed out twice as much, webbing for a second between his fingers before it all spilled down across his stomach.

"It's pretty small," Rok said, like he was apologetic about it. Henry looked over at Rok, squinting down at his dick spike, no absurdly huge dick there, but then Rok wrapped his hand around his dick again -- big enough to be a proper handful now -- and he lost his train of thought, gasp bursting out of him like all the air inside him had vanished.

"I guess now I gotta even out your balls, right?" And Rok reached down, toxin-slimed fingers prodding against the flesh of his sac. His balls were drawn up tight against the base of his shaft, flesh stained purple-black in streaks. His balls churned and shifted under Rok's fingers, toxin sticking to his furrowed flesh in clumps, slimy as his talons slid up under his balls to massage the root of his shaft, throbbing as it too grew fatter. Henry whined, hips jerking, hands gripped tight around Rok's huge forearms, shaft leaving a cloudy black streak as it dribbled fresh precome.

Rok's palm squelched, smearing more toxin across Henry's balls, smearing it in sloppy blobs up and down. Burning started on the surface of his skin and sunk down, becoming a static buzz of heat filling his balls. Rok tugged on them, and the sensation coming back was suddenly a thousand times as strong: the slow roll of his balls a motion rippling up through his entire body, pressure and tension of Rok's hands sending of firework showers of heat up his spine. He wheezed, mouth hanging open, what would've been a bellowing groan cracking in his throat and coming out as a nearly soundless rattle. His balls ached, pulsing in Rok's grip, swelling, pushing back against his palms, fingers long bars of implacable tension, swelling balls bulging around them. Rok's fingers spread, hand opening in minute twitch after twitch as Henry's balls throbbed larger. His cock gushed, huge slit opening to gush a torrent of sludgy purple-black pre all up Henry's stomach and chest, painting him in a layer of ooze that spilled down his sides and soaked the sheets.

Henry's sac bulged, skin drawn taut around his swelling balls, until it felt like a pressure: skin too small to contain the growing flesh. He had his head tipped up to the ceiling, blindly staring up, eyes rolled back into his skull. His balls creaked, sac stretched taut, a lumpy bulb throbbing between his thighs the size of two fists, purpling flesh stretched red-pink. Rok reached back, fingers cold with toxin before it warmed over his burning skin, slathering more, lower behind his balls, around the tight rim where his sac joined his body, trying to coax it to swell in time with his bloating balls. Henry jerked up, sac heaving with the motion, juddering up over half his straining shaft, slamming back down against his thighs with a frisson of pain, each twitch of his flesh trying to furrow painful in its intensity. Hot sparks burst across his sac as it grew too, flesh slowly loosening around the grotesque swell of his balls.

Things inside him churned -- not his balls but the tubes connected to them: swelling, bulging, flesh convolving and folding over itself as they elongated, forming messy switchback folds that bulged out of his taut sac, asymmetrical and lumpy from the sheer heft of his rapidly-growing balls. The same stretch came from inside his grotesquely over-sized balls, new cords bulging out from the inside like worms, squirming inside his sac as they grew and grew, finger-thick passages filling his taut sac to bursting. They hit the side of his sac, distending the flesh, visibly squirming up higher until they found the opening to his body cavity, practically slurping inside. Henry whined again, sensation like fingers prying up inside his inguinal canals as the new cords finally sunk into his flesh, cock spraying tarry purple-black come, over-packed balls letting out some of their tension. He just stared up, panting hard, whimpering with every new pulse of sensation; the drag of flesh on flesh was almost too much to bear, balls churning inside his ballooned-out sac, muscle spasms grinding them against each other, a point of pressure as they touched that spread into a disc of contact, aching flesh spongy enough to flatten as they all jostled for room, writhing and moaning as Rok worked toxin into his skin.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Rok said, kneeling over him, hands flitting away from Henry's grotesquely-grown cock and balls for a second to scoop up a fresh clump of toxin, smearing the waxy ooze all up and down his cock, daubing it in thick clumps all across his balls. He leaned up, pressing a kiss to Henry's mouth, tongue lapping up and down across his lips as he started to work in a fresh coat of toxin. "Almost there. Fuck, yeah, that's so much better, you look so great. Fuck, I wasn't-- you're really taking to it good, huh?" He ran his fingers over Henry's over-sized balls, cradling them in his palm. "Most people don't get such a big response. I guess because you're so small to begin with," he teased, but Henry was beyond giving any coherent response.

Henry whined and groaned, sobbing as his balls bulged and bloated, flesh folding over itself in lopsided furls, skin too-thick and too-heavy, cock feeling like a burning-hot steel spike rammed back into his body, from tip to the root sunk inside his body cavity boiling hot, lopsided and heavy. Rok let it go, once, and it just splattered down across Henry's stomach in a soggy wash of ooze, muscles on the underside and in his hips spasming, trying vainly to lift it back up into the air, steadily spurting runny ooze across his belly until Rok wrapped his hand back around it and started stroking again.

The pleasure was overwhelming, spikes of heat bursting across his skin, the slide of his foreskin over his bloated cockhead making him gasp and sob, mindlessly jerking his hips up to fuck his cock through Rok's steadily-stroking fist. Heat gathered in his boiling balls, streaking up through his body, and Henry's cock gave a single lurch, muscles jerking with new force. His cock erupted, a sudden pulse that sprayed him up and down with chunky purple-grey come, arcing into the air in rippling ribbons, hosing across his chest. But there was no relief, cock still hard and aching, so engorged it hurt. The realization that that had been a single gush of pre -- or whatever he had now instead of pre -- made him sob wetly, hips jerking up against Rok's touch, trying to get that final push of sensation to send him over the edge. The motion slurped, slobbery squelching, crackling noises as he rammed his overgrown cock through Rok's fist, gummy, stringy globs of pre oozing between his fingers, hanging down from his wrist, slapping wetly together and merging into wishbone-shaped tendrils that slowly smeared together into huge, jiggling lines that finally snapped and splattered in huge, frothy dollops across Henry's stomach.

"That's way better," Rok said, slimy fingers drenched in a slurry of toxin and come, smearing down Henry's skin, rubbing against the root of his cock behind his balls. "You ready to come?"

"Yes!" The word was drawn out into an incoherent moan, hitching as Henry heaved, gasping for breath, skin drenched in sweat.

"So c'mon," Rok said, brushing a kiss against Henry's temple, the grip of his hand changing minutely; a fraction more drag against his cockhead, each thrust sending brilliant sparks flashing behind Henry's eyes.

Henry whined, hips snapping up and down, the shock of impact as his balls crashed against the mattress -- and the moment when he thrust up, balls following, hanging weightless in midair at the apex of his thrust for a fraction of a second before gravity yanked them back down again -- sending out huge gushes of pre, splattering him up and down with gummy, congealing lines of gritty sludge. He wrapped his hands tight around Rok's slowly-pumping forearm, fucking his hand desperately.

Henry's mouth hung open, droplets of salt-sour slime splattering across the roof of his mouth as he whined. His whine cracked, mouth open in a soundless scream as his entire body convulsed, tremor hitting him hard, thrashing against Rok's grip. A knot of muscle deep in his gut clenched, spasmed with the force of a kick, and his grotesquely-altered cock gurgled, tarry slime slurping inside him as muscles snapped open, steady spasms pumping. His cock swelled, cockhead flaring, slit opening into a gaping circle, and then finally he came, finger-thick cords of come erupting out, hitting the bed above only a few inches away any spraying in every direction, a high-pressure hose being deflected all over, gummy chunks of sticky heat all over his thighs and stomach, droplets spraying across his face and chest.

He let out a warbling scream, completely inhuman, hips jerking mindlessly as he fucked Rok's fist, wailing as the next pulses hit, gush if anything larger, a wave of come splattering back down across him. He had his eyes screwed shut, aware only of the sensation of it: the second-long gush from his cock, the swampy wash of sludge in cords splattering back against his skin. Wet heat slapped across his skin, thinner ooze spilling down his sides while the thicker gunk piled up, so much it became a weight pressing down all across his stomach and chest, chunky ooze slurping and crackling as it slowly spilled down into the hollow of his throat, stirring with each of Henry's desperate gasps.

His cock kicked, each pulse feeling like a cartoonish bulge, like if he opened his eyes and watched he could see the bulge traveling up his titanic length before it erupted in a frothy, chunky mess all across his chest, again and again, soaking his sweaty face, sour in his open mouth, until the weight bearing down on him felt like being underwater: a pressure on his chest from the sheer volume of rancid, transformed come piled up across him. He didn't even notice when he stopped coming, pleasure still burning through him, body shuddering with the aftershocks, keening and writhing, pumping his slowly-softening cock through Rok's hand, the motion as painfully intense as ever, even with his cock only drizzling the dregs of his load.

It was Rok's voice that brought him out of it, eventually. "You okay?" he said, hand touching his side. Henry came back to himself in a rush, like his soul had been sucked back into his body, suddenly aware he was gasping for breath, whimpering, sweating so freely he was stuck to the sheets even where his load hadn't done the job already. His entire body was shuddering, muscle spasms up and down his chest, arms twitching at his sides.

He struggled to sit up, aware of the mass of come all but tethering him to the bed, silty chunks that had cohered together into wrist-thick cords, soaked into the sheets in broad anchors, so that when he sat he ended up bringing the sheets with him. Rok helped, letting go of his cock -- the half-hard thing turgid, like an enormous worm, slapping down across his chest with a wet splorch -- to support his back, help tip him up. The watery dregs of his load spilled down his chest, the tar-thick silt stuck to him in cords, only sluggishly spilling down in a coherent sheet. Henry was still gasping, arms trembling as he tried to grasp Rok's hand, dazed after the orgasm.

Henry mumbled something, incoherent, and then swallowed -- spicy and sour, only aware as he did it that his open mouth had been half-flooded with come -- and spoke again. "Mmgood," he mumbled, dazed, arms hanging limp and only trembling when he tried to move them. He gasped for breath, letting a little of the daze of his orgasm drain away, until he could hold Rok's hand. Rok wiped across his face, dragging away the worst of the sludge, sweat and come forming a slurry drooling all down his face and chest, coating his eyes. Rok's knuckles gently brushed against his eyelashes as he caught huge globs of come until Henry could finally open his eyes, blinking rapidly; even the dim, indirect light in Rok's room too bright for a moment.

"Little too much, huh," Rok said, with a little laugh, keeping Henry cradled in his lap. "Maybe I went a little overboard."

Henry shook his head, vision spinning. "Nah," he said, aware of the heat across his face, any blush hidden under the sheer volume of grimy come coating him. "That was-- nice," he said, in the moment afterward aware of how dumb that sounded but unable to think of anything better to say.

"Well good," Rok said with a grin, trailing a hand down Henry's stomach, the shock of pleasure there enough to make his overstimulated cock lurch across his belly. "It was super fucking hot." He paused. "You think you can sit up?"

Henry tried. "Uh, gimmie a minute."

Rok rubbed his side, catching and sliding in spurts where he was less or more caked with slick, slimy come. "No rush." His hand slid down between Henry's legs, tugging the huge, fist-sized heft of his balls, thumb rubbing back and forth over their huge, lopsided weight. "Though I guess we might find out if it takes longer for you to get up or to get it up again if you take a lot of time." His fingers smeared over the length of Henry's cock. "I kinda wanna suck you off actually." He said it very casually, nonchalantly, like for Henry the thought of anybody sucking his dick at all hadn't been a wild fantasy of his up until about now, not even including how Rok was a huge troll-monster and also his cock was now grotesquely over-sized.

Henry gave a moan that was half aroused and half despairing, limp cock shuddering and spitting out a sluggish drool of pre, mixed in with chunky clots of come that were left over inside him from his last orgasm.

Slowly he put himself together, or at least, enough to sit up without Rok needing to steady him. His balls just spilled out in his lap, a huge lumpy mess of purplish flesh, tacky with toxin and pre; too-sensitive to the touch.

When he finally got up his balls nearly knocked him down again; altered cock and heavy balls like a lead weight. Even from what he was expecting their limp weight was shockingly heavy -- and not just the weight of it, but how it was hooked up inside him, thick cords like fingers tugging somewhere up inside his body cavity. He staggered forward, hooks shifting left and right, collapsing just in time for Rok to reach out and catch him.

It took a while to get up, and even longer to get dressed. He was gonna have to get new jeans; his bulge was just... obscene. Packed tight in there, his flesh still slowly churning, weird snaky motions scraping against his underwear as his skin furrowed and relaxed, sending his balls squirming between his thighs.

Henry staggered back to his dorm -- thank god Travis, his roommate, was out; his skin was crusty with dried come and his clothes weren't much better. He kept catching a whiff of how he smelled, spicy and rich, not a bad smell but one that certainly broadcast that he'd just gotten fucked. Or -- jerked off. Or whatever had happened.

He showered, his cock looking that much more alien in the bright fluorescent light of the bathroom. The residual crusted toxin washed off, but that just left his altered skin on display, big finger-painted whorls all across his stomach and sides, dots and dashes reaching up across his chest. Two big smears over his nipples that he hadn't even noticed; they were bigger and puffier, aching when Henry tugged on them, and the lurch of his cock at the stimulation nearly knocked him over. Jerking off was gonna be a huge problem, or at least... Rok seemed happy to help. Henry just staggered back to his room, flinching each time his balls audibly smacked against his thighs under his towel, and crawled into bed, out like a light.

---

When he woke up Travis was sitting on the other side of the room, at his desk; not really noticing him until Henry stirred and sat up, and then he pulled a headphone earbud out and turned.

"Oh, hey," he said, and gave Henry a knowing look, even as he uselessly tried to hide the marks smeared across his chest. "Wild night, huh?"

Henry mumbled something, face burning hot, and blissfully the conversation didn't go much further than that. Travis turned away so Henry could get dressed, at least, and didn't get a look at his freshly-grown cock and balls.

Class was a mess.

Rok had left a huge hickey across the side of his neck, flesh abraded and stinging, bruise aching every time he turned his head. Henry reached up to touch it, absently, and it was like a flashback: his sense-memory vivid, room smoky and dark, Rok's teeth scraping across his neck, huge body folded all around him, palm grinding against his as-of-then unaltered dick. Henry had to stifle a moan, squirming in his seat, cock shuddering to life with a throb that made him lightheaded, instantly straining against the front of his jeans, the pressure half pain and half pleasure. A burst of wetness bloomed across his cock, a single slow drip of pre soaking his underwear all around his cock and slowly starting to seep through his jeans.

Rok noticed, of course, sitting right next to him, and the look -- hell, it wasn't even a particularly sultry look, but still Henry had to clamp his thighs together and look away, trying to get the hot, angry throb of his cock to ebb, or else he was straight-up gonna come in the middle of class.

After class, during which Henry had got a page or two full of sketchy notes and actually processed almost nothing of the lecture, Rok all but bounded over to him like an overeager puppy. "So, you wanna...?" he said, hand cupping Henry's side, and Henry just nodded, looking away. It felt like he'd fucking pissed his pants, sludgy pre collected in gritty folds, sticking his boxer-briefs to his thighs, hugging every fold and crease of his cock and balls. Fluid spilled, sliding across his ass or down his thighs when he'd stood at the end of the class.

So anyway, they went back to Rok's dorm and then Rok jerked him off again, and Henry ended up shooting a huge, grimy load of purple-grey come all up the wall.

Afterwards, though, Henry got in mind to ask about Rok's dick; this whole thing had been... really focused on him. He said it: "I mean, this whole thing has been... really focused on me."

"You've kinda--" Henry gestured to his body, cock swollen, skin splattered bright purple, like the weirdest cast of vitiligo ever. "and I haven't even gotten to see your dick."

Rok kinda squirmed awkwardly. "Well, uh. I mean, the thing is. Troll sex is-- I don't know, it's kind of... serious."

"Like, only with people you actually like?" Henry said, sharply.

Rok held up his hands. "Nah, nah, you got me all wrong! It's just -- kind of freaky. Trolls don't got the same kinda stuff as humans."

"At this point I don't got what humans got," Henry said, gesturing at his cock, still slowly leaking purplish-grey come.

Rok leered. "I guess you got me there." He squirmed a little. "It's like -- I guess I could just show you." And then finally, finally, he was tugging down his basketball shorts.

Like, Henry had seen it before, and felt it too; it wasn't like he had no clue. It was the same nubby thing as ever, though: maybe most of a finger's length long, real fat, tapering to a tip. No balls or anything like that. Just a short fat spike for a dick. Or for a not-dick, whatever it was. It didn't look that much different from his tail, honestly.

"So, uh, what do I do...?" Henry said, just looking down at it.

Rok laughed. "C'mon, just touch me." He mimed a circle, thighs and belly, thumb flicking up the length of the cone.

Henry settled on his lap, Rok's furnace of a body hot everywhere they touched, and laid his hands across his belly, stroking down, fingertips sliding across his mottled skin. Rok groaned and settled back, shoulders against the wall, huge hands sliding up his chest, thumbs rubbing back and forth over where his nipples would be if he had any.

Rok was so huge, huge banded muscles across his thighs and belly shuddering under Henry's touch, his chest quaking as he let out soft little moans and sighs as Henry just... touched him. Up and down, trying to find where across his warted hide he was most sensitive. Right in the fold of his potbelly; down low across his hips; across the flesh of his inner thighs. Where his hide got hotter and more supple.

Rok groaned, just sprawling back, a big landscape for Henry to touch. And his cock started... swelling. Not like a human dick would; it was getting thicker in the middle, leathery skin softer as something underneath engorged. Rok groaned, almost whining, and when Henry tugged at the base, his hips jerked up and nearly slammed Henry back against the bedframe. "Fuck, sorry," Rok said, patting his back, pulling him closer in the same motion so that Henry was in his lap, cock pressed against Rok's... whatever he had down there.

Henry tugged on it again, Rok shuddering all around him, the flesh bulging wider in spurts until it split, Rok bellowing, mouth hanging open and panting hard. It peeled apart from the tip down to the base, like a huge, fleshy banana peel, revealing pale purple inner flesh, raw muscle pulsing and shuddering. Muscles under the surface of Rok's hide shuddered and clenched as Henry kept stroking up and down his inner thighs, knuckles brushing the outer flaps of his not-dick as it spread and opened. It looked like--

"M' flower," Rok said, grinning goofily, hips rolling up into Henry's touch, hide sliding raw and damp over his fingertips. His dick had been something like a flower bud, now, open: thick meaty petals ringing a central bud, and with each clench and shudder more flesh spilled out of him, the bud flowering into a blossom of pulsing meat. At the center there was a tight furl of flesh, clenching and pushing, hooded curls of flesh catching against each other before Rok shuddered and pushed, more petals unfurling out from inside him with a wet slurp, clear-white fluid limning the edges of each one. Henry slid his fingers up, fingers grazing the edge of Rok's first petals: backs warted hide, fronts pale purple and shining. The fluid was surprisingly sticky, not smooth at all; Henry fingers caught on the petals, tacky fluid gluing his fingers down; he had to tug to pull them away.

Rok whined, teeth digging into his lip, and rocked again, practically burying Henry's hand in a mess of petals, thick glue-y fluid all but sticking him in place; he had to peel each petal away from his skin one by one, fluid drawing out into thin lines as he tried to pull his hand back. Muscle contracted, pulsed, and more ooze slowly seeped out from the center of Rok's flower, off-white and incredibly thick, slowly spilling down the edges of his unfurled petals. Henry pulled his hand back, out of the burning heat of Rok's petals, glue sticking to his fingers and drawing out in a solid line that didn't snap, even when he pulled back: a taut line hanging in the air, trembling as Rok shuddered.

"It's, ah, glue," Rok said, rutting his folds against Henry's hand, glue nearly sticking it in place. "If we got two trolls we both --" and he gestured at his spread petals, glue oozing down every petal "-- and then we jam 'em together until they stick." He shuddered again, another row of petals audibly slurping out from inside him. "Keep touching 'em, it feels fucking great."

More petals spilled out, flesh being pushed out from inside in contraction after contraction, thick petals overlapping as they fanned out. Henry had to scoot back or else risk being straight-up glued together, his cock peeling away from the petal it'd been pressed against. Rok kept... unfurling, petals spreading wider until his flower spread out a hand's length -- one of Henry's, not one of Rok's -- from the core, all layers of petals all buried under each other, glistening in the light. His potbelly was shrinking: most of the flesh inside was this, pushing out into the open.

"Oh," Henry said, just... staring. It might have been a flower, but it was unmistakably meat; the petals shuddering and clenching, squirming, rising higher before spreading flat again, seemingly working to coat themselves entirely in the thick, continual pour of glue oozing out from the core of the flower, spreading all the way to the edges. Heat wafted up from the petals, their squirming motions stirring up the air, forming currents and eddies that spun around Henry's outstretched fingers.

Henry slid his fingers across the petals, back and forth, as Rok groaned and whined, rutting the messy furl of his flower against his hand. Something slick drooled from the core, smearing over the tacky glue and cutting out some of its stickiness, and Henry followed it back to the center, where his flower had finally stopped unfurling: there was a rim, a thick gristled ring right in the center, spasming and dripping slick fluid as Henry rubbed his hands back and forth over his flesh. Rok groaned, ring shuddering and pushing against Henry's fingers, and slowly, in lurching motions, a huge smooth crest of flesh rose out from the center of his flower.

"Ah, fuck!" Rok tossed his head back, panting as the thing pushed out into the open: a fat soda-bottle looking thing of purple-green flesh, the neck the ring Henry had been playing with, now continually spasming and clenching. Rok caught Henry's hands when he reached for it, and Henry looked up, catching Rok's gaze, eyes only open cracks. "It's really sensitive" he said, voice hitching as the huge thing strained forward, neck slowly opening. "Get your fingers wetter. Or, fuck, use your mouth." He groaned, hips pumping against nothing, Henry riding up and down. "Fuck'n kiss it, if you want. Just be careful of the glue."

His petals were oozing, thick grey streaks of glue forming fat dollops, slowly joining together in messy streams and puddles. The flesh closer to the core was slick, a wet lake of clear fluid, slick when Henry dipped his fingers in, brushed his fingertips over the convulsing flesh at the core, the smooth soda-bottle swell and the spasming neck. It trembled under his touch, the neck opening and then clamping shut so fiercely Henry figured Rok could probably break his fingers if he tried pushing them inside.

Apparently Rok wasn't done yet, though. As Henry stroked the sides of the thing, jerking it a little like it was an enormous short, fat cock, something -- some_things_ -- started pushing out from the spasming neck of Rok's -- to extend the flower metaphor, the big coke-bottle thing would be his ovary, and the things coming out of it were stamen, but Henry was pretty sure actual stamen weren't... prehensile. They were thick tentacle-things, each one thin; thinner than Henry's cock -- his cock before all of this, he meant -- but first there was one, then another, and then a whole mess of them pushing out from inside Rok's ovary, squirming out into the open air. They weren't cock-shaped, exactly: smooth pillars of greenish flesh, flexible and twisting all along each other. Each one ended in a weird capsule of folded flesh; an anther; a mess of delicate fins and spines, surface piled thickly with a pink-yellow ooze. Except as he watched -- and reached out, letting the tentacles curl around his fingers, to Rok's encouraging groans -- the ooze piled up thicker and thicker until it peeled away, falling from the anthers into the pool of ooze forming at the center of Rok's blossom. Rok was leaking pollen, thick smears of dusty powder streaking across Henry's skin, soaking up the slick fluid his hands were drenched in, forming a thick clumpy ooze.

Rok's stamen wrapped around his fingers, coiling like snakes, and then pulled taut, strong enough to nearly tip Henry forward. Henry laughed, tugging back, Rok groaning and shifting on the ground, hips slowly rising and falling as he rutted forward, a mess of stamen curled all around Henry's hand and wrist, smearing dusty pollen all up his forearm.

"C'mon," Rok said, reaching out with one hand to tug Henry forward. "Gimmie a kiss." He clearly didn't mean on the mouth.

Henry leaned in, one hand trying to find purchase and ending up wrapped around Rok's ovary, squeezing when he put some of his weight on it. Henry pulled his stamen-entangled hand up, easing them closer to his face, forearm all smeared thickly with pink-yellow piles of pollen, soaking and dissolving into the mess of Rok's nectar, forming a grimy paste.

Henry leaned in, mouth open, the unexpectedly floral scent... probably not that unexpected, honestly. Sweet-smelling nectar smearing across his cheek when one of Rok's anthers curled up from his hand. Rok was sprawled out, lax and boneless, flower pulsing all across Henry's chest, more and more anthers squirming to fit into Henry's mouth, one and then another pushing against his lips, until he tentatively licked out -- pollen gritty and sour-sweet, dissolving on his tongue -- and sucked one in. It was like sucking a cock. He assumed. Squirming and prehensile and thin, but making up for that last part by how there were a half-dozen slowly smearing across his face. Not really something he could bob up and down with, more like... making out with them. Like a bunch of tongues licking across his face, into his mouth, smearing him with gritty drool.

Rok groaned, stomach fluttering and clenching as Henry sucked on his anthers, licking and dragging his face over their smooth columns. Back and forth as they steadily oozed pollen all over him, clumps and blobs eventually peeling of his wet skin and pattering down into the slimy, sloppy lake of nectar slowly pooling at the core of Rok's flower.

Rok let out a reedy groan, ovary pulsing and then squirting a swampy gush of nectar in the air, droplets splattering all across Henry's face, spilling back down across his unfurled flower. His ovary pulsed again, gushing soupy fluid all across them both, spraying up his thrashing anthers, catching Henry full-on in the face with a mess of weird, sweet-tasting nectar, slurping as it trickled across his petals and slowly oozed across the sheets, absolutely saturated.

Henry flinched back, the squirt of -- come? pollen? nectar? -- hot and now dripping down him in rivulets. "Did you just come?" he asked, a little embarrassed, but troll genitalia was confusing.

"Nah," Rok said, and if to punctuate that one of his stamen smeared its way across Henry's face, leaving a thick trail of half-dissolved pollen. His ovary trembled again, kicking like a vibrating drumhead, and shot a messy gush of nectar all up across Henry's chest, dribbling down his skin in rivulets. Rok groaned again, boneless body shuddering with each pulse. "We don't -- we don't really... finish," he said, hips bucking gently, stamen coiling over Henry's lips and sliding into his mouth, feeding him more pollen. "Once we start --" and he gestured, reaching up with a trembling hand to guide another fat stamen up to Henry's face, into his open mouth. "-- we just keep going. For as long as somebody keeps us going." Then he let his head fall, staring up at the ceiling, stamen like squirming snakes coiling all over Henry's head.

Rok let out a kind of wheezing giggle. "Man, this isn't -- isn't the best time to fuckin', explain troll biology, huh?" His hips ground against Henry's face, sloppy folds of unsheathed meat smearing across his neck, sticky and slick at the same time. "But uh, once I start --" and he gestured, reaching up with a trembling hand to guide another fat stamen up to Henry's face, into his open mouth, a gritty spurt of pollen oozing from the tip all across Henry's tongue. "-- I'm just gonna keep going. As long as you keep at it." Then he let his head fall, staring up at the ceiling, stamen like squirming snakes coiling all over Henry's head. "Y'can stop whenever you want, but, fuck, at least go a little longer," Rok said, gushing again, the squirt of nectar erupting up from his ovary like it was a soda bottle being squeezed, a swampy heat splattering all across Henry's face, spilling down Rok's sides to soak the sheets.

So that went on for a while. Henry surrounded by a thick mess of squirming tentacles, spilling over the sides of his head, lazily looping around his neck. Anthers smearing him up and down with pollen, Rok's steady squirts of nectar soaking his head, streaming down his chest in sloppy rivers. The mess of his unfurled flower fluttering and shuddering, glue forming a tarry layer of sludge under the continual drool of nectar, pulse after pulse soaking the mattress until it oozed every time Henry shifted.

Eventually though they had to stop, just because there was only so long Henry could stay like that, sweaty and exhausted, mouth dusty from pollen, half-asleep almost resting on top of Rok's flower.

Rok ended up picking him up and carrying him down to the showers -- the both of them completely bare-assed naked, Rok's flower still unfurled and drooling a slurry of ooze down his thighs -- so they could basically hose off the worst of the mess, Rok having to flush out half-congealed beads of glue between his petals before the thing could retract into his body.

So that was... nice, though Henry couldn't really think clearly about it until after he crashed on Rok's bed and woken up most of a day later. All this fucking was gonna fuck up his GPA if he didn't get a better hold on it. On the other hand, waking up with Rok curled up around him, just surrounded by heat and the faint dampness of his warty trollhide... it was really nice.

---

Later: "Don't think humans have this," he said, tugging on his pointed ears. "You sure it's not, like... elves, goblins?"

"Wait, those aren't humans?"

"No!"

"You all kinda look the same. Short and shrimpy."

"Rude," Henry said and shoulder-checked Rok. It was like hitting a solid wall. He didn't even shake.

"I thought you were like, I dunno, a subspecies or something." Rok scratched up behind one ear. "You sure?"

"Pretty sure."

"Oh well," Rok said, shrugging. "Close enough, right?"

"I guess." Henry paused. "But, uh, actually, about that. I was thinking, that uh. You have a lot more of that paint, right?"

"What, you want more?" Rok said, a little incredulously.

Henry's face felt burning hot, the dappled splotches of altered skin more -- something. Hotter or distributing heat different, forming wavy lines of heat over his skin. He shifted on his feet, mumbling something.

"Nah, it's cool," Rok said, pulling him in with one of his lanky arms, letting Henry bury his head against his chest. "You got any ideas where I should put it? Or just go wild with some finger painting."

"Um." It was easier to say it without having to look at Rok's face. "My dick? Again. And. My ass."

Rok laughed a little, but not in a mean way, just a little incredulous. He leaned down, lips kissing a scraping pressure against his forehead, and then a clink as Rok picked up the jar of waxy paint, which he'd... left on one of the bedframes? Probably? And there was markedly less of it left than when -- Okay, so, Henry absolutely hadn't been in a state to pay attention, but the jar was half-empty now, the waxy paint carved up with deep claw marks.

"I've, uh, actually been using it to jerk off," Rok admitted, following Henry's gaze. "You kinda-- it was really hot. So. I've been thinking about it a lot."

"Oh." Henry could feel his flush burning all over his face. Rok was -- the thought of Rok lying back, hands shoved into his flower, moaning and bucking and squirting all over as he thought about him was... it was nice. And Rok's gaze on him now was that same feeling only so much more concentrated, heat crawling down his belly and feeding the heavy, throbbing weight of his trapped cock.

Anyway, then: Henry sprawled back, legs spread over Rok's thighs, jeans opened enough to let the enormous bulge of his cock sag out.

Rok reached down, huge hands fanning down Henry's stomach to get to the waist of his jeans. "So let's get these off," he said, thumb digging into the button, fingers cupping the bulge of Henry's cock. "Then I can get you all slimed up."

"Oh my god," Henry said, flushed again -- still, but Rok just leered at him, sticking his tongue out and making an exaggerated face.

"It's gonna be real hot," Rok said. "I promise."

Henry squirmed out of his pants, having to carefully peel his cock and balls out, keeping his zipper well away from the huge swell of altered, wrecked flesh. But, well -- probably he'd have to stop wearing jeans entirely, maybe. Get something with a lot more stretch. And then Rok got to work.

Rok wrapped his hand around Henry's cock -- much, much more of a handful now than the first time -- and stroked it up and down, smearing toxin in clumps all over his skin.

The toxin worked into his skin, starting up the same burning as before, hot and fiery across his shaft, the only difference was -- Henry groaned, squirming, and something inside him clenched and squeezed, fluid sliding up the length of his cock before it erupted in a mess of grimy grey pre, splattered all across his heaving chest. The only difference was each touch across his cock made it spurt out shots of pre on the level of ounces. Henry sobbed against Rok's shoulder, humping his hand, paint toxin smearing across his already-gargantuan cock and leaving burning, sensitive streaks in its wake.

Change sunk into him, thick streams of heat converging and concentrating into blobs just under his skin, like beads trying to burst out. The prickling intensified, Henry letting out a shaking sob, as his flesh started to bulge out in erratic whorls and knobs, forming a messy, lopsided line of lumpy bristles along the underside of his cock, flushed a brilliant, ruddy purple. Rok cooed, fingers teasing the bristles, each one almost painfully sensitive, all of them in a line being rubbed and caressed -- Henry whined, chest heaving, cock spurting and spurting until his chest was drenched in gummy pre, cock throbbing bigger and fatter and more grotesque with each heartbeat, still not anywhere close to coming, despite the overwhelming sensations pouring down off it as Rok kept working the toxin sludge into his altered flesh.

His cock shuddered and grew and grew and grew, bristles going from nubby spikes to thick, heavy prongs to immense barbs, each one just as big as his entire cock had been before this, and then all in the spaces between them and under them his flesh bubbled up in stubby fat barbs, rasping against Rok's palm as he kept steadily stroking.

Henry fell back, lightheaded, cock throbbing in time with his heartbeat. His shaft was thicker around than his arm, arching up to span his chest, a mess of gristled bands of flesh, thick and heavy with enormous prongs. Henry gasped, each throb from his giant cock thrumming through him, an electric jolt that made his entire body convulse with it, gushes of pre that could fill a glass bursting out in clumpy and splattering all down his chest in a heavy, grimy weight.

Rok's fingers slid down -- slowly easing Henry's cock down so it didn't crash down into him, the over-sized cockhead almost pressing against the underside of his jaw now -- and moved to his balls, waxy fingers tugging them up, peeling them away from where they were half-glued to his thighs. He smeared more toxin all across his hands before taking hold of Henry's balls again, rubbing the stiff wax back and forth over his skin as the burn of it taking effect spread and soaked deeper, until his balls felt like hot coals, every lump and swollen outcropping outlined by the sharp, prickling pain.

Henry sobbed, the sensation too much, shuddering and convulsing in Rok's grip as his balls burned hotter and hotter.

It seemed like a completion of the change started the first time: Henry's lopsided balls, two cords hooked into each one, stretched and shifted and slowly split apart into four, like a cell dividing: each one growing fat and then slowly bulging out on its ends, internal flesh shifting to the ends as the central space thinned, until finally with a sensation like wet paper tearing the vestigial central flesh tore apart, balls jostling to find their new place in his over-packed sac. Rok crooned, fingers rubbing up against the firm flesh of his balls, pressing down hard enough Henry squirmed. That was hardly the end of it; each of his four balls kept bulking up, each of them by this point just... a lopsided mess of dense tissue.

Rok pressed a finger down, and there was an alien sensation: the flesh of his ball squeezing and deforming, a dense shot of jelly-like ooze bulging up a half-inch through the cords in a sudden lurch -- but after that, Henry realized he could feel his balls pump, a strange almost tickling crawling within the dense, convolved flesh of his balls, up through the cords hooked through them, flowing so slow it seemed like it would take days to make it all the way through the thick switchback loops packed into his sac before finally being sucked up into his body cavity. It felt like being an anatomical diagram, able to figure out exactly how his new biology worked just by feeling it, all his glands and tubes and veins so over-sized he could feel the path each one took through his altered flesh.

Rok had to pry his hands between the lumpy mass of Henry's balls and his thighs, working carefully to smear every inch of his bloated, inhuman ballsac with toxin, again and again. Forget fist-sized, each one of his balls was the size of two; his sac bulging and lopsided, a huge mess of furrowing flesh that kept them all churning up and down, a giant weight bigger than his head -- considerably -- stuck between his thighs. His flesh was leathery, furrowing into ridges and troughs as big as Rok's huge fingers, bulging and bloating out randomly to make space for the gnarled lumps of his balls.

"Think you're ready for your ass?" Rok said, at some point later, once Henry's balls had been utterly ruined, their dense flesh a mess of furls and bulges, bloated nearly to bursting; the cords and tubes hooked into them all lumpy and lopsided, slowly pumping tar-thick ooze up into his body. Henry just sobbed and wordlessly nodded, thighs spasming as he tried to lift his legs. Rok did it for him, wrapping his toxin-slick fingers around Henry's ankles and raising his legs up across his chest, slowly settling the inhuman bulk of his balls up and to the side so he had clear access to Henry's ass.

Rok's fingers slid up across his taint, the buried root of his overgrown cock making it swell enormously fat behind his balls. Rok tapped against his flesh, impact resonating up inside him like a glass being chimed.

Henry found himself splayed across the mattress, face buried into it, groaning. "Shove it in my ass," he groaned, grinding his ass back against Rok's fingers, toxin-slathered fingers running lightly up and down his crack, each touch sending flecks of heat burrowing into his skin.

"Easy," Rok said, or maybe he just said something with that kind of intonation, hand gripping Henry's hip as his fingers focused on the ring of his asshole, swirling around and smearing it thickly with ooze. It burned, stinging, and Henry clenched, hole convulsing. Rok shoved inside, working his fingertips back and forth, slathering more and more toxin across his hand and smearing it up across his fingers, absolutely soaking Henry's asshole, stiff crests and peaks of toxin stuck to the flesh of his hole, burning hotter and hotter as it sunk into him.

Henry groaned, a long exhale, rutting back, fucking himself on Rok's huge fingers, smearing him inside and out with burning toxin. His hole swelled, hot pinpricks spreading all over, flushed skin rising up in wrinkled folds until the bloat became too much and his hole simply folded over itself, huge lumpy swells of aching flesh stretched taut. Rok ran his thumb over his rim, two fingers inside, the rest curled up against his palm. But slowly Rok fed his third and then fourth finger inside, one at a time, sliding them up against his fingers and slowly spreading them, working the new heft of Henry's hole back and forth. Rok let his hole squeeze down, puckering up into a huge puffy swell bulging out between his cheeks, and then pried his fingers against it, spreading it until it gaped, sliding his toxin-slick fingers back and forth, digging deeper inside to hurry the change further inside.

"Oh yeah," Rok groaned, four fingers jammed into Henry's ass, slowly spreading them. His ring gaped, altered flesh clenching and clenching and still stretching more, distending in a big rubbery arc, taut little catenoids curving between each of his fingers, flesh visibly pulsing with his heartbeat, shuddering against Rok's fingers. He slid his thumb back and forth, flesh like well-worked dough: sinking down to form a perfect thumbprint, springing back over the next second. "You're taking this so well."

"You think I could--" Rok cut himself off, whining again as he stared down at Henry's gaping ass. "You think I could fuck you?" The bud of his flower was already out, grinding in little shuddery jerks and starts against Henry's thigh, glue catching on his leg hair.

"Please," Henry sobbed, shoving back, letting out a broken sob as his ass swallowed up Rok's entire hand with a lurch.

Rok worked his hand back and forth, enormous hand digging deeply between Henry's cheeks, slurping inside him with a wet pop, only slowly disgorging his hand when he pulled back, his enormously puffy lips pouting, folded over themselves in rubbery swells. Rok played with Henry's ass, grinding his unfurling flower against Henry's thigh, runnels of glue sticking them together in jerks, catching and then jolting free when he bore down harder.

Rok pulled his hand out, fingertips spreading Henry's hole wide, and eased his flower forward, its unfurled meat dragging across Henry's back and thighs, glue smearing in sticky lines as he tried to line himself up. Henry's anatomy just wasn't made for it; Rok's petals slid across his sweaty skin, seal half-formed fanning across his lower back and hips, ooze trailing down his thighs to soak the mattress below. Rok groaned, hand reaching for the lower petals of his flower, patting them up against Henry's thighs, pressing his glue-soaked folds against Henry's skin until they stuck. Ironing out the folds, reaching up between Henry's legs to plaster his petals against Henry's bulging taint and the base of his balls, fanning out awkwardly past that, half-pinning his cock to his stomach.

Rok jerked forward, obscene gurgles and squelches coming from the half-sealed mess of his flower, meaty flesh pulsing slowly, petals gathering into tighter folds, glue overflowing the edges of his petals, flowing in thick, sluggish lines over Henry's thighs. Inside the seal, his anthers squirmed, slapping wetly across Henry's cheeks, squirming as they tried to find a matching ovary that Henry just didn't have. But his asshole -- it was swollen, flesh engorged, the rim practically folded over itself after Rok got finished soaking it in toxin, and that was close enough. His anthers squirmed over the slope of his cheek, leaving streaks of dusty pollen that turned into a layer of thick gunk as it soaked into the sweat and slime coating his skin.

It was almost as if Rok was pulled forward by his anthers: fat tips finally finding Henry's gaping hole and squirming inside, drawing taut, and hooked inside Henry's ass Rok sunk forward, leaning in, the bulb of his flower shuddering and squirming as he thrust forward, the coke-bottle girth of his ovary digging between Henry's cheeks. His petals felt like a thousand fingers all squirming over Henry's skin, nearly glued down now, just a wave of pulsing touch that swept across the edge of the flower, motion rippling inwards over and over as they sealed together as well as they could.

There was a sloppy squelching coming from inside the flower as Rok ground forward, ooze splattering all across Henry's ass, trickling down to start to pool against his thighs, wet waves of sludge pouring from Rok's ovary as he ground the thick lip against Henry's hole, anthers squirming up inside him, shedding pollen like mad, thick goo soaking the flesh of his inner ass.

Henry breathed, trying to keep it regular, as Rok's anthers probed inside him, another and another and another spilling out to their full length inside him, digging deeper into his guts and -- eventually -- bulging his stomach, forming a slowly-stirring swell above his hips.

Rok was -- boy was he out of it, hunched over Henry and whining, whimpering, gasping, mumbling little fragments -- "yes, please, Henry, good, fuck," mixed in with unintelligible grunting and globbering that was probably Troll.

Rok gasped and groaned, wrapping his hands around Henry's waist, the entire way around, and tugged him backwards, grinding one side of his unfurled flower down and then the other, sealing it solidly to Henry's sweaty flesh. His anthers shuddered, rippling inside Henry's ass, not thrusting so much as unfurling; spreading deeper. His ovary shuddered again, squirting a huge gush of nectar against Henry's gaping hole, most of it pouring inside, the rest streaming down the inner flesh of Rok's bulb and puddling at the bottom, mostly-sealed inside; stringy dribbles oozed out over the rim wherever it wasn't quite solidly sealed.

Henry groaned, pinned to the bed by Rok's bulk, ass -- stretching and stretching and stretching against Rok's slow thrusts, inexorable like rock, just a constant pressure bearing down inside him. Rok's ovary squirted again, a pulse of nectar bursting into Henry's ass, gurgling and sloshing, shockingly hot, and Henry whined, letting out a reedy moan. Rok moaned too, a low grumbling that was more felt than heard, buzzing across Henry's skin everywhere they were joined.

Sloppy glue stuck to the cheeks of Henry's ass, catching and slipping when Rok moved only to catch again, folds and petals of Rok's flower stuck to his flesh as Rok kept up his slow, rolling thrusts. Henry's guts gurgled, a messy slop of pollen and nectar flooding him in sluggish waves; Rok sunk down, lying half-beside Henry on the mattresses, grinding his ovary that much deeper, the sudden gushes of nectar evening out to a steady pulse.

Rok whined, something like a roar, and ground forward, the sloppy stick of his petals forming a solid ring all across Henry's hips. "Oh fuck, oh fuck." Rok's voice was unlike Henry had ever heard it, warbling and sharp, almost desperate. Huge hands pressed against his sides, Rok pressing his hands across the furl of his flower, sealing it to Henry's skin. Glue burbled at the edges, never dripping far before it hardened, as Rok felt across the mess of their joined bodies, hands pressing everywhere he found a weak seal, until --

The slopping mess inside the bulb hit the level of Rok's ovary, and suddenly the flow reversed: each sluggish spasm of Rok's ovary shoved ooze back into Henry's ass, mixing with the nectar and pollen already inside him. Rok went entirely boneless on top of him, pinning Henry to the bed, just panting as he started flooding Henry's guts, each slow pulse forcing a gush of slime inside him, bulb straining and packed tight.

"Man, roll over," Henry gasped out, knocking against Rok's shoulder, and he lurched to the side, carrying Henry with him, so they were sprawled out on their sides, Rok pressed all up and down Henry's back.

Rok mumbled more, pressing drooling kisses across Henry's shoulders and head, hands fanning out from the huge bulge of their bulb, tracing across Henry's thighs to get to his cock, pressed up tight against his gigantically-swollen stomach, stroking him slowly. The bulges across his gut shifted, cords of anthers inside him twisting up and down. They both groaned.

Henry lay there panting, guts churning from Rok's unending spurts. The ovary was flush inside him, anthers squirming up in his guts, pollen oozing back down as a thick paste, thinned by the continual squirts of nectar Rok was gushing inside him, all the ooze seeping slowly out around the huge coke-bottle swell of Rok's ovary -- but now there was nowhere for it to go, thick slime flooding Rok's flower, a huge ocean of fluid lapping higher and higher up his thighs, Rok's flower starting to stretch out into a bulb. Rok groaned again, ovary pulsing, the slop of nectar flooding Henry's ass and pouring back down, sloshing inside the bulb, a weird wet weight pressed against the backs of Henry's thighs, slopping up across the cheeks of his ass when Rok bore down, the continual mess oozing from Henry's adding more and more.

Rok laughed a little, dazed, hand streaking down Henry's belly and pushing back against it, cupping the slopping, straining heft of his own anthers, feeling it slowly even out into a broader well as he kept pumping more and more thick nectar into Henry, guts gurgling, clotted masses of pollen slowly dissolving, turning the fluid into a tarry ooze as it flooded higher and higher inside him. Rok, at least, seemed content to lie there, his ovary steadily pumping, a steady flow of nectar pouring into him without any sign of stopping.

Over minutes, the bulges slowly evened out. Rok pumped more thick nectar into him, more and more. Henry's guts gurgled, clotted masses of pollen slowly dissolving, turning the fluid into a tarry ooze as it flooded higher and higher inside him. Rok stared over Henry's shoulder, watching. "Fuck, that's hot," he mumbled, kissing Henry's pointed ear.

His gut ached, the flesh of his belly drawn painfully tight, each pump of nectar making his entire body slosh. Henry panted shallowly, the pressure increasing and increasing until there was a sudden rubbery jolt, spangs resonating through his entire body -- and rippling gut -- as his altered flesh gave a fraction further, shredding open in wide stretch marks, letting his gut swell that much more.

Henry was dimly aware of Rok's hands on his hips, dragging him up, shifting him so his ovary shoved flush against the blown ring of his ass, ring squeezing down against it. Each squeeze pumped sludgy nectar higher into his guts, in thick, sludgy bursts. Heat billowed up his front, dripping down over his swollen gut, and he found himself aware that he was groaning and sobbing, thrusting into Rok's hands, aware just of -- howling, sobbing, his comeshot like a bucket of hot water splashed all across his front, like a lightning bolt slammed right into him, busy arcing back and forth through his cock.

Henry went limp, aware of his painfully swollen gut sloshing. His skin stung, the tarry mess of his load burning where his skin had been shredded; something like stretch marks only a hundred times as fast: big war stripes all across his hips and stomach and chest, each one perfectly outlined by the burning sting as his chunky come poured down his chest in waves.

Rok ground deeper, the coke-bottle-girth of his ovary slipping into Henry's altered ass, wet petals of flesh clenching and unfurling against his ass cheeks, the huge swell of his ovary sinking further and further into his ass until it was pressed flush against him, Rok's bony hips pressed flush against him -- or as flush as they could get, with the prolapsed meat of his flower plastered all up and down his ass. Anthers were squirming up in his guts, pollen oozing back down as a thick paste, thinned by the continual squirts of nectar Rok was gushing inside him, all the ooze seeping slowly out around the huge coke-bottle swell of Rok's ovary -- but there was nowhere for it to go, thick slime flooding Rok's flower, a huge ocean of fluid lapping higher and higher up his thighs, Rok's flower starting to stretch out into a bulb.

Rok groaned, ovary pulsing three times sharply, pumping out a heavier and heavier flood of nectar, pouring into Henry's ass only to slop right back out again and slosh inside the rapidly-swelling bulb between them. It didn't take long for the mess of nectar and dissolved pollen to flood the bulb to the level of Rok's ovary, wedged in Henry's ass, and suddenly the flow reversed: each sluggish spasm of Rok's ovary shoved the ooze back into Henry's ass, mixing with the nectar and pollen already inside him. Rok went entirely boneless on top of him, just panting as he started flooding Henry's guts, each slow pulse forcing a gush of slime inside him. Rok's anthers moved with the flow, squirming deeper inside him, their lengths curling and brushing across his inner walls, leaving weird half-felt blobs and clusters of half-dissolved pollen.

Rok hummed, a clatter somewhere to the side as he reached out, chest stretching pressed against Henry's back, and then his hand came back to Henry's gut, smearing something cool through the mess of come. Henry whined, even that faint pressure making him feel like he was gonna burst apart. His burning stretch marks seamed wider, fresh toxin smeared all over them, letting his gut swell enough to relieve some of the pressure, only to slowly build up again as Rok just kept drooling tarry pollen and sloppy nectar inside him.

Eventually: "Hey," Henry said, reedy and flushed all splotchy, chest painted in crusted, half-dried layers of toxin and his own come, pinned to the bed by his own overstuffed guts just as much as Rok sprawled across his side. "When d'you think you're gonna be done?" He wasn't asking to hurry it up, really, just... to have a data point.

"Hmm," Rok groaned, hips mashing against Henry's back, glue smearing between them. "When's your next class?"

"It's, uh, Thursday? No classes today, but -- ungh!" Henry groaned as Rok let out a particularly strong gush, nectar squirting hard inside him, currents seeming to perfectly outline his flooded and straining guts. "But morning Friday, that's Calc II."

"Oh, yeah..." Rok nuzzled Henry's neck. "We could probably be done by tomorrow morning."