FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Unexpected Seed Collection

Written by RixWrites

For Guri

“I cannot fucking believe I’m doing this,” Roland grumbled to himself as he manipulated the small metal pins that were stuck in the lock of a side door to the campus’ arboretum. As it had on many an occasion before, the young and slender wolf’s constant need to one up his friends had gotten him in trouble. That bravado and reckless self confidence, and more than a few shots of spiced dark rum, had led him to where he was now: A barely-used exit to his school’s arboretum that was one of the few exterior doors that had a conventional lock.

-Yeah, bet I could hook up a hell of a lot faster than you, Roland. Most girls here find hybrids hot. You’re just some boring wolf.-

Growling in frustration, he continued to test and probe the lock. At first he’d thought the task he’d agreed to would be impossible, which would have been just fine for him. There’s no way the half-dragon that had goaded him into his bet would hold him to his end of the agreement if he literally couldn’t do it. The arboretum building had a security camera at nearly every entrance and exit, and almost all of them were card-locked regardless. It had only been by chance that he’d found the ancient door underneath one of the second-floor balconies. Hidden by bushes -thorny ones, at that, as he’d found out by falling from the railing in his efforts to climb up- it seemed to have been forgotten when the building’s security had been upgraded.

-Hah, bullshit, Jack. Just because you’ve got ridges and a knot and tonnes of cash doesn’t mean just any girl’s gonna sleep with you.-

With a sudden click, the lock finally gave way and Roland was able to pull the small door open. There was a squeal of hinges that made the wolf wince. Campus security had gone by just five minutes ago, but the noise might draw them back this way. He pricked his ears and swiveled them every which way, trying to find any indication that he might have been detected, but when no shouts of alarm or sounds of running feet, he eased the door the rest of the way open and slipped into the building without a word. He might as well get this over with and lament the bet after he was done.

-Fine. A bet. Put your money where your mouth is, Roland. See who can hook up first. Loser owes the winner five hundred.-

For a moment after Roland turned on the small flashlight on his phone, he thought he’d be thwarted again. He was at the bottom of a deep stairwell that had been turned into a densely packed storage space. He could barely see to the other side of the cluttered space, with the light of the wide-open arboretum just barely filtering in from an old double-door at the top of a flight of stairs, almost completely hidden by a huge red curtain draped across the first step. There was so much junk piled up that he couldn’t even imagine a way through, but still, he considered, he knew for sure where he was now. The stairs that continued up to his left led to the balcony, and in the few times he’d been here during the day, he’d seen that curtain from the other side, hung with a sign saying ‘Private – Do Not Enter’.

-Oh fuck that. You’re rich, Jack. Losing five hundred for you is like me dumping out my coffee. Let’s do something _ real _.-

It took Roland a lot of work and careful moving of all the junk, but he managed to wriggle and squirm and come out from behind that red curtain after about twenty minutes. He checked the time on his phone. Oh-two-hundred on the dot. He would have about four hours in which to get to the plant he was looking for, get his onerous task taken care of, then get out. As he opened one of the double doors at the entrance to the stairwell, a blast of stiflingly humid and hot air spilled over him. “For fuck’s sake, this is gonna suck,” he growled, ears flattening against his skull. He usually avoided this place because of how warm it was, carrying hundreds of plants and small animals that would thrive in those conditions.

-Fine. The arboretum, you know it? Loser has to go there after hours and get cornholed by that patricus plant.-

“Fucking stupid,” Roland muttered. If there were cameras in here, they’d see him quite easily, but he wasn’t exactly remarkable at a long distance, with the only things distinguishing him from any other gray wolf being his piercing glacial-ice eyes, and the midnight black streak of fur that went down his spine. Even so, he’d worn a black hoodie and track pants that further obscured his appearance. With the number of birds and small animals that resided here, motion detectors would be pointless, and he was certain no door sensors had been on the old, forgotten door. He’d definitely have the time to get finished and out, unless he was totally unlucky and a guard decided to just check on the place for no reason.

-Hope you like getting your ass filled, Jack. You’re on.-

Roland consulted the map of the huge arboretum on his phone for a moment and grinned. He was in luck, it seemed. The patricus plant wasn’t far off. “Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, and started to make his way down the paved, winding path. The sooner this was taken care of, the better.

The wolf was still shaking his head clear of the last haze of the drinks he and Jack had been sharing when he reached his destination. The patricus was off of the main path in a small little clearing all its own, and with resigned reluctance he walked down the path, still reflecting on what had brought him here.

There was really no avoiding paying his side of the bet, he knew. He may have been arrogant and way too self-assured, but Roland prided himself on his word. If he agreed to something, he would do it, even if he didn’t like it. It probably didn’t help that he was a terrible liar, so even if he thought of saying he’d done it but never following through, Jack would see right through him. But, he thought, if anything could make him try to back out of a promise or a bet, it was this. The idea of a thick vine pressing under his tail and massaging his prostate certainly didn’t appeal to him. He wasn’t into guys, and definitely wasn’t into getting anything under his tail, but… a bet was a bet, and he’d lost.

When he finally reached the end of the short path, he was in a small clearing. There was a short fence that kept you from getting more than a metre away from the thick, viny mass of plants that completely encircled the tiny space. Unlike the other fences in the arboretum, this one was meant only to keep the unwary from getting into a situation they didn’t actually want, and it could be easily stepped over. He made a face at the large plaque at the entrance to the patricus plant’s little clearing.

‘Patricus Voracita – known as the Patricus Plant, it was named for the unfortunate-... Roland snorted, he didn’t need to read any more of that. He knew what it would do, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. His last girlfriend had worked with one of the botany professor’s assistants, who had told her how the newest assistants helped ‘tend’ the plant. Ever since, he’d avoided the Patricus clearing on the few times he’d been through, enough that he’d had to consult the map on breaking in. He glossed over the rest of the plaque, disregarding the warning that one should choose a part of the garden that had the thickest vines and the warning to avoid the smaller-bulbed parts of the plant if there were any. The smaller the better; he didn’t want some huge thick vine shoved up under his tail. Jack hadn’t specified, so that was on him. And as long as he got out of here in a couple hours, nobody would know what happened to him.

The plant seemed to be a series of fibrous forest green vines that were entwined among the branches of small trees all around the paved clearing. As Roland inspected them, he could see the vines subtly moved all their own in an almost disquieting way. Each of them was lightly covered in soft, pointed, waxy looking leaves that gleamed in the soft light of the arboretum. And then he found the first of the strange bulbs that looked almost like flower buds.

The first he found was actually near the ground, looking to be about the size of a watermelon. Thick leaves surrounded it, shaped like the ones on the vines but significantly larger. As he stepped over the small fence, the nearest bulb unfurled to reveal the flower within. The petals were nearly sky blue in shade and stippled with black spots regular enough that Roland could tell that they were part of the pattern and not any sort of blight. His breath caught when he saw what made those flowers different from most others. Where most would have a stamen was a mass of slick-looking vines that moved animatedly. The thickest of them was about one and a half times the width of his thumb, with the thinnest about half as wide as his pinky finger. He knew that those were what collected the nourishment that the Patricus needed alongside moisture from the roots in the ground and sunlight.

Roland shuddered, really not looking forward to the next step. If he got too close to the vines near that flower, they’d snap into action and bind him as fast as they could, the substance on the leaves inducing a strange euphoria and making the muscles relax. Then ‘collection’ would begin, lasting until the body became temporarily inured to the intoxicant on the leaves. “Nuh-uh, you’re not getting a meal from me. You’re too big,” he muttered, looking about for a smaller bulb. He figured the warning about them had probably been because the bigger ones collected more.

It took Roland only a few moments to identify the right bulb. On the far side of the clearing was a small bud that couldn’t have been larger than his own head. It was the only one that he could see that was that small, which surprised him. He grinned to himself and felt his tail start to wag. It was small enough that he might not even feel much. This would be even easier than he had first thought. Who knows, he might even enjoy it a little. He made his way across the clearing to the plant. When he stepped close enough the bulb unfurled like the others, though the colour of the flower within was a deep violet rather than blue.

“Fuck. Might as well get this over with,” he muttered. He eyed the vines all around his selected flower for a few moments and then sighed. Whatever the waxy substance on the leaves was made of, he expected it would smear on his clothes. After taking a few moments to listen for any sound of movement that seemed out of place in the arboretum, he slipped his hoodie off and laid it on the other side of the fence. “Stupid Jack. The one time I make a bet like this and he wins.”

After only a few seconds of hesitation, Roland undid the drawstring on his pants and laid them down alongside his hoodie. “Maybe I should just tell Jack I couldn’t do it. He’ll make fun of me, but… no. No, I’m going to do this. Nobody’s going to say I backed out of a bet,” he grumbled to himself. Setting down his phone, he turned, nude, to face the Patricus plant. The violet flower seemed to tremble, and as he took a step closer, he could see the vines around it tensing, preparing to grab him. With his size, he could probably tear himself away from it if he really wanted to.

Despite all the preparation, he stepped away again. It was just too much, he decided. He reached down to pick up his phone, but the moment he did, a message popped up on the screen. ‘Done yet?’ were the only two words in the text. “Fuck,” Roland almost snarled and then closed his eyes. He dropped the phone onto the pile of clothing and, before he could lose his nerve completely, nearly leaped into the mass of vines next to the Patricus’s flower.

The plant reacted with startling speed, the fibrous vines curling and snapping outward to grab the wolf, wrapping around every part of his body in seconds. “Holy shit!” Roland yelled, struggling out of pure instinct. There were at least two or three vines already twining themselves around each of his limbs, and as he tugged against them, he found that they were strong. A few more wrapped around his torso and belly, though none of them were constricting particularly tightly. The most concerning, though, was the one that encircled his throat three times.

As more vines joined the first, the plant having found prey for the very first time, Roland began to really worry if this had been a good idea. He was rapidly starting to get so entangled that even if he did decide to chicken out, he’d find himself unable to. The mental image of his friend Jack’s smug grin, though, made the increasingly-helpless wolf grit his teeth and let the plant bind him. How anyone could ever do this willingly, he had no idea. The arborteum’s botany students must all be insane, or perverts, or most likely insane perverts, he decided.

Roland squirmed. He craned his head down and saw that his fur was smeared with a shiny, slick substance. Where the leaves had brushed up against his nipples, they were starting to tingle and grow warm. A vine brushed against his lips and the strange substance made them tingle as well. By the time the animated vines had pulled his arms to his side, much of the stuff had been worked deep into his fur, coming in contact with his skin.

“Ohhh, what is… that…” he half slurred. A gentle, pulsing sense of lassitude and bliss was settling over him. He knew it for what it was, the plant’s way of further subduing prey, and it terrified him on a deep level, especially since he couldn’t seem to bring himself to act on that fear and start to struggle again. After only five minutes, his entire torso was wrapped in a tight, warm sheath of vines, his legs pulled out and wide, only slightly less covered in the vines. The concerning part to him, even though he had known it would happen, was the fact that his cock and balls and the tight bud of his anus were bared to the air.

Despite himself, Roland felt a smile form on his lips. The patricus had him, he might as well enjoy it, and it did feel nice to be held as firmly as this. His whole body was tingling and warm. When he thought of Jack next, his grin grew wide and almost manic. He was totally going to show that smug half-dragon that he could make good on his bets. He leaned his head back and just floated in the sheath of vines, letting the plant’s mild poison take effect.

While the wolf’s attention was on the induced lassitude, the bulb of the patricus moved closer, the violet-coloured petals somehow seeming to deepen in shade. The mass of thin and thick vines that comprised what would be the stamen on other, normal flowers reached out for Roland. Slick and slimy, these ones were leafless and dribbled with a milky-looking fluid. He gasped when they slid around his thighs, beginning to explore and probe everywhere they could.

“S’really not… so bad…” he slurred, lifting his head to watch the plant work. Of course it would need to find his holes, figure out what it had caught. Every creature it snagged would be different, though their biology would be largely the same, and the plant obviously had no eyes with which to see what it had to work with. When he felt one of the probing vines press under his tail he gasped, and the slick thing pressed in effortlessly, no wider than a pencil. This really wasn’t going to be an unpleasant experience at all, the wolf began to think.

Thin vines began to wrap around Roland’s fuzzy sack, and he tried to imagine them as the tongues of both of the adorable slink twins he’d met in his basic programming class. “Ohh, fuck, that’s right,” he gasped. His cock began to swell and fill out in its sheath, but it seemed as if the patricus wasn’t going to wait for him to get fully hard, because two of them pressed into the tip of his sheath and began to poke and explore within, one of them wrapping around the head of his shaft and then sliding downward.

The feeling of those vines wrapping around his cock while it was still in its sheath, smearing his length with that milky fluid, was utterly unique and Roland actually began to giggle. Maybe he understood, at least a little, why the botany students apparently enjoyed this so much. It wasn’t long before his canine cock was slowly slipping free of its sheath, guided by the plant.

Something thicker than the probing vine pressed up against Roland’s anus and, after applying only a tiny bit of force, spread the muscle around it and slipped in. It was the thickest of the vines this patricus plant had, barely as wide as his middle finger, and if he had to admit, the feeling wasn’t an unpleasant one. Maybe he’d let that one hot vixen he’d met wear the strapon she’d shown him, after all, but not before insisting she use a really thin one.

He felt the lip of his sheath pull back and slip over the swell of his knot, and he let out a low groan. The vines really were like slink-tongues, muscular and slick, sliding across his flesh, making his dick messy with that strange fluid. There had to be at least six massaging and stroking across his flesh now, while the one that had pressed under his tail starting to probe and press just inside him. When it found its mark, the wolf let out a sudden bark of surprise. His cock let out a tiny little spurt of clear pre accompanied by a pulse of pleasure that emanated from deeper within than he was used to.

“Yeah… this isn’t so bad…” he gasped, and then closed his eyes, settling back to enjoy the patricus plant’s collection of his seed. He imagined a half dozen strong tongues sliding across his canine flesh, another one wrapped behind his knot and tugging at it. The plant seemed to know what would bring him over his peak better than any girl he’d been with, and it was mere seconds before he let out a low howl and his cock began to spurt streamers of ropy seed. The orgasm was more intense than any he’d felt before, enhanced by the plant’s chemicals and the milking of his prostate. To his surprise, he just kept on producing jets of his spend, far more than he normally would.

The ministrations of those slick vines didn’t stop even after the wolf came. In fact, they seemed to want even more. He grinned a dopey little smile and lifted his head, watching as yet another vine, this one even thinner than the others, maybe half again as wide as a pencil, moved toward his cock. It probed and wrapped around his tip a few times, drawing excited gasps from the wolf.

The vines all around Roland seemed to tighten all of a sudden, and he didn’t even have enough time to wonder why before the vine pressed against the tip of his urethra and in. Wait, this wasn’t supposed to happen, he hadn’t heard of this happening, what the fuck was it doing? Fear and shock suffused him, warring against his induced bliss, but try as he might, there was no way to escape.

The utterly alien sensation of having his cock penetrated by the plant’s thinnest vine made Roland whimper with fear. This was far more than he’d bargained for, and if Jake had told him this was what to expect, he’d have told him to go fuck himself. As the vine slipped deeper into his dick, the wolf tried to struggle, but found himself utterly helpless. It really didn’t hurt much, he realized, and after the initial jolt of fear, he began to relax. The slightly bumpy vine, slick with that milky lubrication and the remnants of his own semen, felt almost like it was massaging his dick from the inside.

When the vine reached his prostate, still being stroked and milked by the vine buried under his tail, Roland let out a low, desperate moan. It felt really good, much to his surprise. He didn’t realize that within him, the vine had split at the tip, traveling along both of his vas toward his nuts. Normally such a thing would be incredibly painful, but all he felt was a dull throb that was completely overshadowed by the milking of his prostate and the stroking of vines over his cock.

Deciding that there was nothing to be done but to allow the patricus do what it had to, Roland relaxed and let his head hang back. The milky lubrication made his flesh feel warm and almost itchy. Unlike the relaxant on the vines, though, this was a rapid-acting substance that increased elasticity of skin and would near-instantly heal any damage the next step would cause.

Bemused, Roland again lifted his head, just a little curious what it looked like to have his dick invaded. What he saw made his blood run cold, fear washing away the haze of lassitude and making him writhe and twist in the bonds. His heart began to beat like a jackhammer against the inside of his ribcage. Bucking and jerking, he tried to dislodge the vine, but he knew full well there was no way to escape until the plant decided to let him go. Inches away from where it was buried in his urethra, a marble-sized bulge was distending the bumpy surface of the vine.

Abandoning all pretense at hiding his presence in the arboretum, Roland let out a horrified yell. “Hey! Help! Anyone here!” All the while he felt that vine wriggling inside his urethra. There was a strange, sudden itchiness in his nuts, not quite pain but somehow even more unsettling. It felt like there was something inside them or maybe around them. Then, to his horror, he realized that there wasn’t just one marble-sized something traveling down that vine. At least four of the things were behind the first.

With growing horror, Roland watched that bulge in the vine creep closer and closer. All the while the vine under his tail massaged and prodded. He strained and struggled, but there wasn’t a thing he could do. The plant’s seed, for that’s what it had to be, was growing dangerously close to where the vine had disappeared into his cock. “Please! Someone!” he screamed, panic rising in his voice. He wanted something, anything, to stop this.

The struggling wolf couldn’t tear his gaze away as he watched that seed inch closer and closer to his dick. With a horrified whimper, he gave one last herculean whimper and tried to jerk himself away, but it was futile. There was pressure at the lip of his urethra, unbelievable and sharp. “No… no no no no,” Roland babbled. The pressure mounted, and with it a powerful ache had begun to suffuse his nuts. Then, searing pain blossomed at the tip of his cock as the seed was forced into his urethra. His howl of pain resounded in the aboretum, but the thick foliage around him proved an effective dampener to the sound.

The searing pain was joined by a deep, throbbing ache, something similar to the lingering pain after being kicked in the groin. Roland’s stomach did a backflip when he saw that his sack was swollen and stretched, with the outlines of the vine within squirming and poking outward within. Every agonizing moment stretched out as the first of the seeds was forced further and further into his shaft. He moaned, eyes filling with tears, utterly helpless as he felt himself being used as a place for the plant to lay its seeds. A wordless cry escaped him when the felt the next seed start to stretch the tip of his cock, the sound ragged and horrified. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as the first, but it was still a fiery lance of pain that slowly descended his shaft.

Roland closed his eyes, the idea of watching the horror that was happening to his junk too much for him to bear. As a third seed began to stretch him open, he let out a choked sob, then his breath caught and he shrieked as the first reached his prostate. The pain was exquisite, of an intensity so great that, for a moment, the wolf nearly slipped into what would have been very welcome unconsciousness. He wasn’t quite that lucky, though, and the seed slipped into the pulsing sack that had begun to grow around his testicles.

Every seed that stretched Roland’s urethra was a little less painful than the last, but it was no consolation for Roland, because each one increased the pressure around his nuts, contributing to that just-kicked sort of ache. By the tenth seed, his screams and cries of pain had become ragged and made him feel like he had a throat full of glass. Time ceased to have meaning for the helpless wolf, and he barely jerked and twitched as one after another of the plant’s seeds spread him open wide.

“Please…” he whimpered, to nobody in particular, voice hoarse and desperate, “Someone please help… ah… ah!” The eleventh of the seeds had begun to press into his dick, but he had no more energy to even scream. His muscles jerked involuntarily when it slipped, now almost effortlessly, into his urethra and started to descend. His only thought now was wanting it to end, for the plant to finish what it had to do.

The twelfth seed began to slip into him, he sobbed… and an unknown watcher grinned. Nearly half an hour later, the plant laid Roland down, leaves unwrapping and leaving him on the ground in front of the plant. The watcher scurried forward, unconcerned that the plant would grab them. They knew that the patricus was done. Before the wolf could react to the watcher’s presence, he felt unconsciousness finally allow him to slip into oblivion.

---

Roland woke with a start, his confused mind thinking for a moment that what he’d experienced had been some sort of terrible nightmare. Almost immediately, he felt a deep and throbbing ache in his groin, and he knew for certain that something had happened. His eyes still closed, he realized that he was on a faintly cushioned surface, reclining back in some piece of furniture that made him think of a dentist’s chair. There was the soft susurrus of air recyclers and the fans of electronics, as well as at least one or two people moving around him.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, and when he did there was a slight gasp nearby. When he tried to open his eyes, he found that they were gummy and wouldn’t open easily. Or, that is, he attempted to. To his horror, his arm was restrained still, despite his now-clearer memory telling him that the last thing he remembered was being let down to the floor of the patricus clearing. There was a sound of bare feet approaching to within a few feet of him, and a wizened-sounding and androgynous voice came from nearby to his right.

“Tsk, wolf, let me help you. You’re lucky I came when I did. The drug wasn’t out of your system yet, and it has the most unusual effect of making you sleepwalk,” the speaker chittered to themselves for a few moments, “It’s why you’re restrained. Well, it’s one of the reasons. You’ll find out the other soon. We assume that’s intentional. In the wild, it would ensure that the seeds are quite far from the parent plant when the host’s body… lays them? Yes, lays them. Now now, it’s alright. Though I do say you’re in for even more unpleasantness.” The speaker’s voice prattled on as if oblivious that Roland was restrained next to her. “Now, wolf, you better not bite me. I don’t have patience for that.” Something wet and soft was pressed to his eyes and gently stroked his face. Almost immediately, he was able to open his eyes and see what sort of insanity he’d ended up in.

First and foremost, he was definitely restrained, strapped to a chair that was clearly modified from a dentist’s chair. The room seemed to be a simple lab like any other he’d been in at the university. Computers all over, strange machinery that served some unknowable purpose, and, he realized, a very short, very old red squirrel. She was wearing the thickest glasses that Roland had ever seen, with various attachments that could be hinged forward to rest in front of them. Behind them were strangely reddish-looking eyes that seemed to look at him less as a person and more like he was some fascinating oddity. She wore a lab coat that appeared to just hang right off of her thin frame. When he met her gaze she smiled broadly. “There you are. You know, my dear assistant is quite cross with you. Deviant little mouse was looking forward to what you just endured. Been somewhat obsessed really. I swear, that boy goes daily to tend to my patricus.”

Roland stared, quite unable to speak for the next few moments, just working his jaw. A particularly deep throb in his groin drew his attention, and he finally looked down. “Bluh?” he intoned, utterly confused and horrified at the same time. His dick was on full display, with none of his clothes in sight anywhere. He was still hard as a rock, his knot almost angrily engorged. His piss-slit was oozing that strange lubrication and looked ragged and distended. That wasn’t the most concerning thing though. His sack was huge, as big as two softballs next to each other, and it seemed lumpy and uneven. As he watched it seemed to twitch, renewing the throbbing ache. “Oh god… oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck,” he babbled.

Oblivious to his distress, the old squirrel prattled on, “You look just about ready to pop. I’m sorry to say but your sperm count will be rather low for at least a year. They’re quite efficient, and take all the nutriment they can. Your bladder’s likely bone dry now too. Now, you better get ready. Look on the bright side, you get to know at least a bit what childbirth is like!” She smiled, an almost manic gleam in her eye as she wheeled over a cart with a small empty silicone tub on it.

Roland’s tail curled up and over his groin, something it hadn’t done since he’d been a teenager. “What the hell, lady? Who the hell are you? What’s happening?” This was all moving so fast, and that deep ache was somehow getting worse. It felt somehow like the rising pleasure that came before an orgasm, but he knew somehow that what it heralded something much less pleasant. Jerking on his restraints, he snarled at the squirrel, “Fucking help me, you old bint!”

The squirrel blinked for a few moments and then frowned, her voice going flat as she spoke, “You broke in to my arboretum. Invaded my patricus grove that I and my assistants have tended for two decades. A seeding flower is exceedingly rare. You, wolf, are about to expel every single seed that plant gave you and from where I see it, you deserve this. I could give you something for the pain, but I won’t. But look on the bright side. I will not be reporting your… indiscretion.” The squirrel shook her head, the smile returning, her voice again filled with manic cheer. “Quite a haul though.”

Roland could only stare, dumbfounded. There was no way to dispute what she was saying. He would be in trouble if someone else had caught him. But then he focused on the word ‘expel’. “Wait,” he said, “what do you mean expel?” Before the squirrel could answer him, he felt a renewed throb of pain from his groin, and he gasped. The pressure, the need to try and urinate or climax, was getting more and more intense. There was a deeply unsettling sort of squirming starting underneath the taut flesh. “What the fuck do you mean expel?” he almost shrieked.

The squirrel fixed him with a stare and laughed, “Oh, you’re finding out right about now.” Just as soon as the squirrel spoke, Roland’s need to relieve himself grew maddening, and the throbbing deepened even further. His cock twitched and jerked, and he let out a howl as he felt the familiar muscular motions that came with climax, but none of the pleasure. Each contraction of muscle was accompanied by blinding pain so intense that he could barely think. A pain that seemed to creep farther and farther up his dick every time he felt it. “Oh dear. Bite down on this, wolf.” He felt something hard pressed to his lips and he snapped his teeth over it. Whatever was happening, it had nearly reached the tip of his shaft, though as it did so, he felt the pain starting again inside him.

He shouldn’t have looked down again. He should have kept his eyes shut and tried to think of just how hard he was going to punch his friend Jack. Days later, the horror of what he was enduring would focus on the sight that he saw when he peered down at his groin. A few centimetres from the top, a bulge distended the skin of his cock, much larger than the marble-sized seeds that had gone in. Each contraction of his muscles forced it forward a little more, accompanied by that blinding pain, until he saw something start to spread the tip of his dick open. It was violet and brown, and was coated in the milky lubricant. With horror, his voice ragged again, the howls fading to low moans, he watched as each contraction forced more of it out.

Horror, disgust and a strange sort of fascination held the helpless wolf’s gaze as contractions he usually associated with climax forced the strangely striated and ovoid shape out of his dick. With one final, powerful push, the huge seed slipped out of that slit that should be far too small to allow it passage. Howling around the hard bit of rubber, Roland finally slumped as the squirrel darted a gloved hand out and grabbed the seed. Staring at the ragged hole in his cock, he moaned. His urethral opening was wrinkled and gaped alarmingly wide, the sides looking irritated, but to his surprise there was not even a drop of blood. “Oh… fucking fuck, why? Make this shit stop, lady!”

The squirrel harrumphed and adjusted her glasses, then shook her head firmly, “That’s doctor to you. And I don’t see why I should. You ignored warning signs and trespassed.” She watched with an almost eager expression. Her lips were curled up in a smile.

Roland felt the next set of contractions start, this time from the right. Blindingly powerful pain accompanied it, not at all diminished by the course of the last seed. The same process repeated itself, and the wolf found himself straining against the tight bonds that held him down. He didn’t care anymore, he let the tears start to flow. Centimetre by centimetre, the seed was birthed from his cock, leaving him whimpering and sobbing by the end. As before, hands reached out and grabbed the seed that he expelled.

For the next few hours, the cycle continued. The contractions and pushing, the obscene bulge that stretched his cock, the increasing agony as another seed began to slip out, and the collection afterward. By the end, Roland was exhausted, no longer able to do more than twitch and jerk as the last few seeds slipped effortlessly from his raw and ragged slit. There was no counting the number, he’d lost track by the time the squirrel had collected the last seed.

With a dull stare, he inspected his cock. Every single part of him ached, and he was exhausted. The sight of his dick was all he could think about. It was so stretched and wrinkled that he expected he could slip a finger into it effortlessly. He slumped back on the chair, a guttural groan spilling from his lips. When the squirrel undid his restraints, he barely felt them. He laid there, trying to dispel the horrifying memory of what had just happened, but it was far too fresh. He had no idea if his dick would even go back to normal, or if he’d have the wrinkled monstrosity of a piss-slit for the rest of his life. He could think of only two things at the moment as he started to pass out from exhaustion. One, the squirrel was going to answer all his questions. And two…

Even if he had to spend years finding another seeding patricus, he would make sure that Jack would fucking pay.