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King Dong - A Companion

Duane plodded through the university's library with soft and gentle steps despite his size. The big and bulky black gorilla had spent his entire life trying to avoid attention, and he was so careful and quiet that if none of the studying students looked up from their computers, books, or tablets, they would easily never notice his presence.

Well, that was until Duane broke the relative silence of the library's study room when he sat down at one of the tables, and the chair creaked in shock under his immense weight. Grimacing, the gorilla had to spread his legs wide and shuffle around to accommodate the giant junk between his thighs, causing his seat to groan even more. He sighed to himself as he caught a few faces looking up at him through the corners of his dark eyes, knowing what was coming. As with everywhere the black gorilla went, no silence lasted very long.

He reached into his backpack to tug out a textbook, which he needed to take notes from for an essay. He flipped open a notebook to an empty page and fished out a pen -- too fat-fingered for a computer. He flicked through the pages of text in front of him until he found the right section he needed. And then he started reading that section, and he kept reading it, over and over again, the words trying to organise themselves inside his mind. But they were forced out by a crowd of angry thoughts, because from multiple directions, Duane could hear the other students whispering to each other, and at the edges of his vision, even under a frowning furrowed brow, he could see their faces looking at him. Staring at him and his body. He didn't need to hear what they were saying to know that they were talking about him.

No, actually, not about him. About his penis. His unnaturally fucking gigantic burden of a cock that so many of them were obsessed with.

A heat grew in his cheeks while a tightness festered in his chest like vines entangling his heart and lungs. He huffed quietly through his nostrils and tried his best to ignore the other students. Despite it being something he'd had a lot of practice at, he was still no good at it. He gripped his pen tightly, his hand resting atop a still-empty page.

It wasn't the whispers themselves that made it so difficult. It was how they made him feel -- especially now. They reminded him of a lifetime of feeling like a freak. Of being taunted, teased, and tortured. And sure, at university he didn't have to endure as much outright bullying or abuse for being so different. But at least when he was a child, or in high school, he had something to look forward to, to feel hopeful about -- a time when he might be able to be around mature adults who respected him or treated him like a person, rather than a freak of nature. A time when he might have friends. Or a partner who wasn't just trying to get into his cramped pants.

That time was meant to be now.

And yet this period of his life was worse than any of those that came before. Everyone still regarded him as an exotic curiosity, whether it was with resentment, defensiveness, or desire, and he was thoroughly, desperately alone. The disappointment he felt every day of his life now was unbearable if he stopped to think about it -- which he really tried not to. Because what did he have to look forward to now? Nothing. And if he pondered that for too long…

For now, when he was at home, weed and a razor kept him going. Numbing the pain, and letting it out to dribble down his fur when it got too much. He rubbed a chunky hand over his face and breathed a shallow sigh. The tightness in his chest didn't budge. It felt like his ribs were constricted so hard they might snap inwards and pierce through his heart. These fucking assholes…

Normally he tried to study at home. But early this morning he had woken up to the sounds of his two junkie housemates yelling and the windows of their house being broken. Duane had stayed the hell out of it and left for the university as soon as he could. As miserable as he was here, he was better off taking his chances here than dealing with some tweaking freak climbing through the broken glass looking for money or meth or something.

Nearby, a pair of furs giggled to themselves. He heard one of them mumble something, though he only made out the words, “King Dong". Their companion choked with muffled laughter behind their paws.

Rolling his eyes hard, he reached into his bag to look for his…

Fuck. He'd left his headphones at home. Hopefully they didn't get stolen. Uuuuuuuuuugh! He stared down at his blank notebook with a fiery gaze. Why was he even bothering? How was he ever going to concentrate with this shit--

“Hey! Shut the fuck up!" yelled a nearby voice, feminine, but sharp and angry, like a serrated dagger with a pretty hilt. “It's gross and creepy as hell! What's wrong with you?"

The pair of furs fell deadly silent. In fact, everyone who had been whispering or snickering around him no longer made a sound. This was a library. Most of them were frozen still, while some of them awkwardly returned to studying.

Duane was as stunned as any of them. More so, probably. He traced some of the wide eyes over his shoulder, when he saw a raccoon with dark stripes of fur that criss-crossed over bright tones of pink sitting at another table by himself. Through the raccoon's bright blue-frame glasses they made eye contact for a moment. The boy smiled politely, shrugged, and returned to his own open notebook on the table in front of him.

In that moment, a firework full of confused tingles launched inside Duane's chest. The gorilla hesitantly smiled back, though the raccoon had already broken eye contact.

Very slowly, almost with effort, Duane looked back around and down to his book. Secretly, he smiled even wider to himself. People very rarely stood up for him, and when they did, it was inevitably for some self-serving purpose -- trying to earn his gratitude so they could get closer to him and his big dick. But this boy had seemingly done it for the sake of it. He hadn't walked up to the gorilla to try to capitalise on his favour by introducing himself and asking to sit next to him or something. When Duane glanced back at him to check, he noticed two things. One, promisingly, the raccoon was back to minding his own business. And two, he was very, very cute.

The tightness in his torso didn't decrease, but it definitely morphed into something… different.

Nearby, the earlier pair of furs sniggered to themselves again. Something was funny. Perhaps they were trying to save face with each other with a joke, or maybe they had turned their ire towards the raccoon. Whatever the case, Duane was surfing such a high right now that he barely cared, but his eyes shot open wide when he saw a book hurtling through the air, covers whipping open with pages rippling as it flew, before it thudded against one of the furs and slapped closed against the ground.

“What the hell?" one of them gasped in offense.

“Shut up you cunts!" the raccoon screamed, the ferocity and volume of it in a place like this stunningly shameless. The words echoed through the otherwise quiet library as the pair, and many others, stared at him in horror. “The fuck's wrong with you?" he added in a disgusted tone.

The raccoon might have seemed unstable, but when Duane looked back at him in surprise, the boy offered a casual wink back in return, telling a different story.

After that, the room was quiet. Even people in the corner who had just been quietly quizzing each other were reluctant to open their mouths now. Given the new peace and quiet, it should have been easy for Duane to focus on taking notes now.

But instead, his mind was occupied with something else.

* * *

Duane plodded out of the common room, balancing the difficult task of holding his hot microwaved leftovers with one hand while also holding his backpack in front of the big bulge in his pants to shield it from onlookers with the other. He was trying to decide whether he could sit to eat with the most privacy when all thoughts suddenly evacuated his skull. Through a glass window leading to the cafeteria, he saw a familiar mop of neat pink hair. The raccoon from the library was flopped back on one of the couches in the hallway, his foot paws propped against the edge of a small table in front of him, a bag of chips resting in his lap. He fed himself with one hand while mindlessly scrolling through his phone with the other.

Before he realised it, the gorilla's feet were carrying him towards the boy. Halfway there, he told himself he just wanted to thank him for the small act of support earlier. That was why he was walking up to him. That was all.

Approaching the couch, he was suddenly struck by how self-conscious he felt towering over the small twinky fur. Crouching awkwardly at the raccoon's side, he cleared his throat, and said softly, “Uhh, hi… I… just wanted to--"

“Oh hey!" the boy said, looking up at him with a warm smile. It was a small thing, but Duane acutely noticed that the raccoon's eyes went straight to Duane's face, rather than lingering on his crotch first like everyone else's usually did. Before he could say anything more, the raccoon removed his backpack from the seat of the cushion next to him and nodded towards the seat with his head, his glasses slipping down his muzzle slightly. He glanced at the gorilla's container of food and must have assumed the gorilla wanted to sit with him.

Well, it might not have been Duane's plan, but the cute little thing wasn't wrong in thinking it. With a strangely thumping chest and limbs that suddenly felt weak and unsteady, the bulky man carefully sat down on the couch next to him. It squeaked pitifully underneath his mass and the raccoon bounced up slightly as the weight on their seat shifted.

The bag of chips suddenly appeared under his chin, and the raccoon jiggled it encouragingly. Duane picked one out of the bag and immediately regretted it because he realised how dry his mouth was all of a sudden.

The twink kicked his backpack under the table and went back to his phone, closing something that looked like a Furbook post he had been typing. The gorilla hoped he wasn't interrupting something important. No, no, he wouldn't have offered to let him take a seat if that was the case. But what if he was just being polite? Ughhhh…

“So uhh, thank you… for…" Duane hesitated and swallowed. What was the right word? Standing up for him? Defending him? Protecting him? God, why was he suddenly doubting every little thing he said and did? Why was making a good impression suddenly all he could think about?

“For… the chip?" the raccoon said slowly, offering an ending to the sentence with a raised eyebrow. He nibbled another one down. “They're pretty cheap y'know".

The gorilla cringed. “No! No. For sticking up for me in the library". Why was it so hard to breathe?

"Oh. Pfft, don't mention it", the raccoon said with a casual shrug, munching. "They were being assholes, acting like kids. So fucking rude. I don't understand it. I just wish I'd hit that bitch in the face with the book".

Duane chuckled, a wide smile bursting across his face. “Well, I really appreciate it anyway…"

“Travis", the boy offered, wiping the chip salt on his shirt before gripping two of the gorilla's fingers with his little paw and shaking them. He smiled, and even with three chips stuffed into his mouth he still looked meltingly pretty.

“Duane", the big male replied, his eyes lingering on the raccoon's face like the mere sight of it filled a reservoir inside of him that was dry and empty.

“What are you doin' now, Duane?"

The gorilla looked down at the food in his lap. “Uhh, just eating".

Travis snorted. “After that? You dummy".

Duane blushed and he scratched behind an ear. “Oh uhh, I have to wait around for a class this evening. Umm… what is it, PS1002?"

“Oh really? So do I!" Travis said with a bubbly voice. “Is yours at two o'clock too?"

_Urrrrrrgh _how he wished it was. “Ah, nah… It's at five".

“Bleh", the raccoon said, sticking his tongue out and wrinkling his nose. “Gross".

“Mhmm. I have nothing before then either, so I just have to--".

Travis bounced in his seat and looked at the gorilla. “Well, why don't you just come to my class? It was only half-full last week so I doubt the tutor'll care".

“Oh, uhhhh…" The gorilla froze. He wanted to so badly but he could hardly even say yes because he was so shocked that someone who seemingly wasn't interested in him only for his penis might actually want to be around him.

As though he needed more convincing, the raccoon added, “You know they're planning a group project in a week or two, right?" He snorted. “I really don't wanna get stuck with some smoothbrain bitch who spends her time scrolling through pictures of food she wants to throw up on InstaRam instead of doing her part of the work".

Duane chuckled. “Neither do I. I uhh, suppose I'll come to yours, then", he said, though he wanted to scream it.

“Sweet!" Travis said with a smile. Though it quickly faded as his gaze looked upwards behind the gorilla at someone.

The bigger male turned to see a fox girl standing next to him, her hands clasped in her lap. She bounced happily on her feet as she smiled widely. “Hey Duane! Remember me from when I sat in on your class last week? I um, wanted to let you know some friends and I are having a party this--"

“Do you know her?" Travis asked very loudly and bluntly, like he was talking to the girl instead of Duane. Nonetheless, the gorilla shook his head. So Travis leant over him and snapped, “Do you mind? We're having a private conversation?"

The fox gritted her teeth awkwardly. “Oh uhh, sorry, I just--"

The raccoon interrupted, “I just learnt that my mother has terminal capricciosa, so if you don't mind!" he gestured sharply down the hallway with his head and glared at her through a part in his pink fringe.

She stuttered an apology and left. When she walked past Travis, he jabbed one of his foot paws out towards her in an attempt to trip her, but he couldn't reach. “Damn", he sighed.

Duane couldn't stop smiling. If only the cute little raccoon knew how much that meant to him. He certainly couldn't explain it without embarrassing himself.

That night, he found it very difficult to sleep. It wasn't because of the sounds of his housemates bickering, or the fact that many of the windows in the house were boarded up with tape and cardboard. It was because, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, with his arms wrapped around his pillow, he couldn't stop the thoughts zooming around inside his head. He hadn't felt this way before. Sick? Nervous? Excited? He couldn't put a fat finger on it, but God, he wanted more of it.

He was only able to settle his mind and find enough peace to fall asleep when he imagined the pillow in his arms was Travis.* * *Duane wasn't incapable of sticking up for himself. He was bigger than almost everyone else and not just in the one department. If he really wanted to, he could scare anyone into silence by towering over them, knocking them backwards with his firm belly, and growling a threat down at them. But he knew too well from his efforts in high school that efforts like that didn't solve anything. If anything, they made things worse. When everyone was so obsessed with him, his efforts to defend himself just became amusing topics of gossip for the horde.

Besides, it wasn't like he could threaten every single one of the hundreds and hundreds of students on campus. Nor did he want to. This was not a life he wanted one bit. He wanted friends and affection, not isolation by fear or freakishness.

But Travis had a different approach.

When someone approached Duane in a terribly transparent attempt at getting something sinister out of him, Travis did the equivalent of shining a blinding spotlight upon them that no one could ignore. He screamed at them, harassed them, shamed them. He called them out on what they were doing and made _them _the focus of the room. It didn't matter when or where they were, he took to tearing down the gorilla's faux-fraternisers like he enjoyed it. And when he got in trouble for it, he would just shrug and roll his eyes, and nothing more would come of it.

Duane couldn't believe that it actually worked, and that it was actually that simple. All it took was someone special on his side. Maybe that was all he had been missing his entire life. Just someone who cared.

And how fortunate it was to have someone like that in his corner right now. His new friendship was perfectly timed, because things started to escalate at his university. Whatever kind of twisted underground movement was interested in him was apparently galvanised into taking a subtler approach towards letting Duane know just how _special _he was, now that someone stood up for him in person.

Posters of him would appear on cork boards and walls overnight, incentivising his harassment with black and white photos of him and his crotch above awful calls to action -- that whomever could get photos of the sweet sweet trophy hanging between his legs would earn infamy, even a bounty. Creeps slid letters of adoration and infatuation through the slits in his storage locker detailing the fantasies they had had about the things they would do to service his humongous penis. Another page appeared on Furbook, including a Dong-Watch, which anonymous posters updated with his whereabouts.

But. This time, the gorilla had Travis. The sweet little raccoon dealt with the harassment in his relentlessly characteristic way. One time he scooped up all the posters he could find, dumped them at the top of the parking garage, and lit them on fire. He swore to Duane that if he ever caught someone slipping a letter into the gorilla's locker or posting on one of the pages about him, he would publicly shame them to everyone they knew, and Duane believed him.

And though the harassment continued, for the first time in his life, even despite some people's efforts, Duane didn't feel like a total freak. He _didn't _feel like he deserved it. With someone at his side, unceasingly supporting him, he felt like maybe it wasn't actually his problem, but theirs.

Maybe there was some hope in his future.

More and more, the future that Duane wanted to have took shape in his mind.

It didn't matter what awaited him on campus each day. He looked forward to being around Travis. He wanted to be around him. He needed to be around him. Around that twinky little firework, the world felt brighter and his burdens felt lighter.

Surprising himself, he eventually worked up the courage to ask him out. Surprising him even more, the raccoon said yes. Well, actually, he said, “Of course, you idiot".

And the night they spent together exemplified everything Duane adored about the smaller male. They had dinner at an outdoor restaurant, and whenever he caught someone looking in their direction, Travis catapulted peas at them with his spoon. They watched a movie together in the fancy class with fewer people, and in the darkness, when Duane's huge hand crept towards the raccoon's, little fingers wrapped around his own. He had no idea what happened in the movie after that.

Afterwards, when Travis dropped him at home, he made no attempt to go inside with the ape. There was no awkward silence waiting for a move, no clumsy comment about needing to use the bathroom or have a glass of water. Despite a hell of an opportunity to take advantage of the situation -- an opportunity others would literally kill for -- Travis didn't care. They kissed on the lips, and then through a gorgeous smile, the raccoon said he would see him next week.

And there was actually a small part of Duane -- well, a giant part -- that was disappointed. For the first time in his life, there was someone he actually wanted to… be with.

It certainly would have made falling asleep that night much easier. In the dark, gripping his pillow in a crushing embrace, he smiled to himself as he remembered all the sweet little things his new boyfriend had done for him. And the more he thought about him, the more his cock swelled, and the more it became a lopsided third wheel to his fantasy cuddles.

Duane never jerked off. He certainly never had sex. Despite a few wet dreams here and there, he never brought himself to orgasm, because he wanted nothing to do with his fucking dick. It had ruined his life, and he saw it as more of an object, a parasite, than a part of his body.

But right now they were in agreement. They both desperately wanted Travis. That sweet soft twinky little thing. It had been warm tonight, and he had looked so smotherable in a cut-off tank top that showed his tight taut stomach and belly button, his arms covered with sleeve warmers that matched the light blue of his glasses. His shorts had been too small, showing soft patches of white fur between his thighs before his leggings, and hugging his curvy ass while hanging low enough to show the pink neon band of his briefs. And God, that ass had looked so…

Duane let out a deep groan of hunger and lust. He rolled on top of his pillow and buried his face in it, lips spread, tongue scraping against the cotton and making it wet against his face while he imagined kissing the raccoon. At the same time, his hips bucked back and forth, gently, careful not to crush the imaginary boy. But as soon as he started indulging himself, he couldn't stop, and the weight of his desire spurred his hips into action. He imagined caressing that supple little body, undressing it, smelling it, kissing it, feeling it against his own big body.

His cock was so fat that with it underneath him, his stomach didn't even touch his pillow anymore. It throbbed so hard that he could feel each surge of precum moving the entire length of his mammoth shaft before squirting between his round pecs, against his own neck. Soon, locked in a kiss with the pillow, he could taste his own cock juice. He wondered how it would taste to Travis, and he imagined filling that sweet little mouth with drool from his cock. He imagined the three of them -- him, his cock, and his boyfriend -- kissing and tasting each other. His dick surged at the thought and his limbs trembled weakly.

His bed groaned along with him as he humped harder and faster, forcefully enough that it would have killed the smaller male if he were here in place of the pillow right now. He thought about that bouncy little ass slapping against his hips. Travis was way too small to ever actually fuck, but he would feel so, so good with his legs either side of Duane's cock while he grinded back and forth between the raccoon's thighs, feeling the femboy's dick against his own. Duane wrapped his arms around his pillow, hugging it against his tremendous dick, and thrust into it deeply. Each time, his thick fleshy foreskin slid back against the cotton and a new surge of precum splattered from his slit against his upper torso and neck -- the small amount of friction against his attention-starved cock head sending almost unbearable ripples through the rest of his giant body.

Soon, he lost control. His bed frame smacked against the wall in an increasing rhythm. Some of the supporting bars started to crack. One of his housemates started to bang on the wall and yell, but Duane couldn't have cared less. Every muscle in his body dedicated itself to fucking the hell out of his pillow and the only thing present in the gorilla's brain was how good it felt. Images of his boyfriend's body and what he would do to them flickered through his mind but at this point it would have taken nothing to push him over the edge. Panting, sweating, shaking, he threw his hips forward and a desperate groan forced its way out of his chest and into his pillow as his gigantic dick tensed, fattened, and gushed with a hot and thick stream of cum against his chin hard enough to hurt.

“Mmmmnnnnghhhhhrrruuggghgh!" he roared, his entire face scrunched up as pleasure exploded through his body. Less a series of spurts and more like an endless firehose, his cock continued streaming with lava-like cum that soaked into his pillow and fur and covered his face, and gushed out either side of his chest and poured onto the sheets, and filled the room and his lungs with its manly stink. He trembled uncontrollably as waves of bliss radiated from his fat nuts through his cock and body and into his brain. As he made a horrific mess of his bed, his brain imagined what it would look like to make a big white sticky mess of Travis instead.

He came with the combined force of many, many pent-up orgasms, channelled through a monstrous penis, and by the end of it all, minutes later, his pillow and mattress were ruined beyond salvage, and his bed frame had collapsed in one corner. Duane was so exhausted that he couldn't move, and he lied in the wet mess of his ruined beddings, panting heavily and still shivering with remnants of his earthquake of an orgasm, until he fell asleep with a weak smile on his face.

Duane would never again be as happy, hopeful, and optimistic as he was that night.