Chapter 41 - 40+41: What the Dawg Doin?

Chapter 41: Chapter 40+41: What the Dawg Doin?

a/n: had been a bit unwell yesterday. have 2 Chapters combined to make up for it.

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The blunt, bulbous head of his scaly shaft breached her tight virgin entrance right in the absolute middle of her blinding orgasm.

It was either the universe’s idea of impeccable comedic timing or definitive proof that God had a deeply fucked-up sense of humor.

Her body was still actively cumming. Her inner walls were violently spasming and clenching around empty air, her brain was still completely short-circuiting from the relentless dry-humping, and apparently, that was the exact perfect millisecond Ghosty decided it was go-time.

Rebecca’s entire body seized up.

Every single muscle that had just started to melt from the climax snapped brutally taut. Her violently oversensitive pussy clamped down completely raw on the sudden, massive intrusion.

The dual sensation of rolling orgasmic aftershocks violently clashing with the sharp, burning stretch of being opened for the very first time made her nervous system throw up its hands and walk off the job entirely.

"Aaah—w-wait—ngh—!"

The sound came out completely strangled and guttural, like someone had stepped on a cat made of human vocal cords.

She could feel everything. Every single millimeter. The thick, burning pressure as her body desperately tried to accommodate something that had absolutely zero business being there. Two inches, maybe two and a half.

It was just the bulbous head and a fraction of the thick, ribbed shaft. But combined with the fact that every single nerve ending south of her navel was still firing off like a roman candle from the orgasm, it genuinely felt like being split open by something the size of a traffic cone.

Still cumming. I’m still cumming and he’s actually inside me.

Too big. It’s a fucking lizard dick. It’s too big—

It’s throbbing. Oh my god, I can feel it throbbing inside my actual body—

Her hands flew blindly upward, her short fingernails aggressively scraping against the thick green scales and hardened reptilian armor covering his broad shoulders. She completely braced herself for the rest. She waited for him to just aggressively shove his massive hips forward and bury himself to the hilt in one brutal, body-breaking thrust, exactly like every terrible, degenerate doujinshi she had absolutely never read during late nights in the Raccoon City dorms.

He didn’t.

Ghosty went completely, utterly still.

His heavy, scaly hips froze perfectly mid-thrust. The massive, fever-hot shaft stayed exactly where it was, barely lodged inside her, stretching her untouched entrance to its absolute breaking point but not pushing a single millimeter deeper.

His breathing instantly changed.

The heavy, aggressive, hissing reptilian breaths slowed down. They softened into something completely contradictory to the terrifying seven-foot bioweapon looming over her.

He let out a soft, pathetic, vibrating rumble.

His massive, terrifying head dipped down. The thick, split ends of his forked tongue dragged gently across her cheek in a slow, incredibly deliberate stroke. It was still unnaturally warm, still completely slick with that sweet-smelling mutant drool.

Then the forked muscle dragged across her other cheek.

Then her forehead.

Rebecca blinked rapidly. Her vision was still completely swimming from the whole orgasm-plus-penetration combo, which was absolutely not a sentence she had ever expected her brain to formulate in her entire life.

Warm wetness was steadily running down her face. For a horrifying second, she thought he was just aggressively drooling on her again.

Nope. Those were tears. She was actually crying.

Ghosty kept gently licking them away with careful, hyper-focused strokes. The bizarre double-tip of his tongue traced the salty wet tracks down her cheeks, dragged across her jawline, and then he nuzzled his heavy, scaly snout directly into the crook of her neck. He let out a low, vibrating purr that had absolutely no business sounding that gentle coming from a monster that just bit a creature’s head off ten minutes ago.

"Oh, n-now you’re playing pitiful?" Rebecca’s voice cracked violently halfway through the sentence, a pathetic sob escaping her lips. "Now you—ngh—now you decide to be gentle? After you tore my pants off? After you ruined my shirt and—and just shoved that giant thing in me?!"

She couldn’t even finish the scolding.

The thick, hot reptilian shaft firmly lodged inside her extremely tight hole chose that exact moment to throb again.

It wasn’t a thrust. It was just a heavy, biological pulse of blood.

The massive head swelled slightly against her severely stretched walls and then settled back down. The sensation aggressively rolled through her wildly oversensitive core like a slow-motion shockwave, instantly frying every single coherent thought in her head before it could reach her vocal cords.

"Nnngh—f-fuck—!"

Her inner walls clamped down on him entirely involuntarily, the muscle fibers still actively twitching and fluttering from the dying embers of her climax.

The feedback loop of her tight, slick pussy squeezing his incredibly sensitive, hot dick made her toes curl so hard inside her tactical boots that she actually heard the thick leather creak.

What the actual hell was happening to her.

She was lying on her back on a freezing metal grate in an underground Umbrella testing facility. Her pants had been violently converted into a frayed micro-skirt. Her underwear had been casually tossed aside by a massive, scythe-clawed hand. And exactly two inches of thick, terrifying monster cock were currently lodged inside her body.

Her waiting-until-marriage, absolutely-never-even-seen-a-real-penis-in-person body.

This was so far beyond the realm of situations she had ever prepared for that her brain completely refused to categorize it. She had trained for gunshot wounds, deep lacerations, and high-stakes hostage scenarios. Nowhere in the entire S.T.A.R.S. manual had anyone bothered to include the appropriate protocol for being partially impaled by a seven-foot-tall bipedal lizard-freak in a basement.

She had boundaries. Very clear, highly reasonable boundaries. No sex before marriage was a major pillar of her existence. Maybe some light fooling around if the absolute perfect guy came along, with a heavy emphasis on guy, and a massive emphasis on human.

Definitely nothing with an animal. Absolutely nothing with a genetically engineered bioweapon. And categorically, one hundred percent nothing with a reanimated, shape-shifting, T-virus-infected Hunter that used to be her dopey mutant dog ten minutes ago.

And yet.

Her physical body was actively refusing to cooperate with the absolute disgust her rational brain was desperately trying to generate. That was the part really messing her up.

She should have been horrified. She should have been revolted, screaming, and clawing at his scaly eyes, doing literally everything in her physical power to get this massive thing out of her pussy.

But all she felt was full. Impossibly, overwhelmingly, strangely warm and full.

She didn’t even have a word for it. The closest terminology she could scrape together was full, which was completely inadequate, like trying to describe the Grand Canyon as a pothole.

It was throbbing. Constantly. His massive cock felt like it had its own independent heartbeat completely separate from his actual circulatory system. Every single heavy pulse sent another thick wave of heat aggressively spreading through her pelvis.

She looked down between her spread thighs. The sight made her stomach execute a flawless gymnastics routine.

The thick, purplish-green shaft was literally disappearing right into her body. Her wet, glistening pink folds were stretched terrifyingly tight around an intrusion that was way, way too big for what it was being asked to accommodate.

Her hand moved completely on autopilot. She reached down between their bodies, her fingers trembling wildly, and wrapped her palm firmly around the hot shaft just above where it entered her wet slit.

Her hand froze.

The girth was insane. Her fingers couldn’t even close all the way around it. But that wasn’t the worst part.

As her palm slid over the fever-hot flesh, her brain finally processed the sheer, impossible length of the thing currently pressing against her.

Wait. Hold on. Just... hold the fuck on.

She traced her hand up the shaft. Up, and up, and up, until her knuckles brushed against Ghosty’s scaly lower abdomen.

Ten inches.

It’s a ten-inch dick. I am currently underneath a ten-inch, ridiculously thick mutant dick.

That means two inches are inside me right now... and there are EIGHT MORE INCHES outside.

Pure, unadulterated terror spiked through her chest.

If he pushes that all the way in, I’m going to die. My cervix is going to explode. My spleen is going to end up in my throat. He is literally going to rearrange my internal organs.

But the sheer size wasn’t the only terrifying discovery. As her trembling fingers gripped the shaft to hold it back, she realized it wasn’t just smooth skin.

What are these... bumps?

Her thumb brushed against the underside of the thick meat. It was heavily ribbed. Elaborate, thick fleshy ridges ran horizontally along the bottom. Near the incredibly bulbous head, there were actual, distinct fleshy knobs and weird, soft spines that pointed backward, distinctly reptilian in nature. It was a horrifying hybrid of human shape and scaled hemipenis anatomy, designed purely to lock inside a mate and cause maximum, overwhelming friction.

She could feel exactly where those prominent ridges were currently dragging against her tightly stretched entrance.

It should have been agonizing. Something this ridiculously massive, covered in fleshy hooks and thick ribs, forcing its way into a virgin body should have resulted in catastrophic, bloody tearing.

But the blinding pain just wasn’t there.

Yes, she knew her hymen had broken years ago during intense gymnastics and academy physical training. She knew there wouldn’t be a physical barrier. But she was still completely untouched! She had never taken anything thicker than a regular-flow tampon.

Why doesn’t this hurt?!

The realization hit her like a freight train, completely derailing her sanity.

I’m wet. I am completely, embarrassingly soaked. I am literally dripping all over his giant lizard cock.

A wave of crushing, suffocating guilt and shame washed over her.

Am I... am I a slut? Am I just an absolute, irredeemable whore?! Why does this feel good?! My body is actively melting for a monster! A ten-inch, ribbed, spiked mutant dick is inside me, and instead of screaming in agony, my pussy is literally stretching and lubricating itself to take it!

Her strict Catholic upbringing violently clashed with her screaming libido. She felt like crying, not from pain, but from the utter, humiliating betrayal of her own degenerate flesh.

Her hand squeezed involuntarily in her panic.

Ghosty let out a low, shuddering rumble that vibrated right through his massive green chest.

His heavy hips twitched forward just a fraction of an inch. The thick, ribbed shaft pushed slightly deeper against her desperate grip. A soft fleshy knob popped right past her tight entrance, seating itself inside her walls.

"Ahhn—!"

The friction of that ridge sliding inside her sent a devastating, electrical shockwave right into her clit.

Her small hand was currently the only physical barrier preventing him from completely bottoming out and turning her insides to mush.

I’m holding it back. I am literally holding a bioweapon’s ten-inch cock out of my body with one hand.

She squeezed harder, frantically trying to establish some tiny sliver of control over the terrifying situation. The thick shaft throbbed aggressively in response, another slow, heavy pulse that sent a fresh, dripping wave of heat rolling straight through her pelvis.

"Okay," she whispered. Her voice was shaking so badly the word barely survived the short trip from her vocal cords to her lips. "O-okay, Ghosty. Good boy. You’re a—nnh—you’re a good boy. Just... just pull out, okay? N-nice and slow. I won’t be mad. I promise."

His thick, scaly tail thumped against the metal floor grates.

But he didn’t pull out.

The massive, ribbed shaft pulsed inside her tight grip again.

"Ah—! G-Ghosty, no!"

"I’m serious! If you—if you push that in, you’ll break me! I-It’s too big! It’s going to ruin my insides! Just take it out, and we can—ah—we can figure something else out!"

His heavy hips shifted slightly. He wasn’t actively thrusting, just slowly adjusting his massive weight over her. But the tiny movement made those fleshy hooks drag against her highly sensitive inner walls at a slightly different angle. The intense, wet friction sent a blinding bolt of heat straight up her spine that made her grip instinctively loosen.

"Oh god—don’t—don’t move—!"

He leaned down and licked her ear. The wet, ridiculously long forked tongue curled right into the sensitive shell, tracing the outer edge with maddening, sloppy gentleness. At the exact same time, another slow pulse rolled through the thick shaft buried inside her, and her vaginal walls aggressively squeezed down on it entirely on autopilot.

"Nnnghh—fuck—!"

Her body was relentlessly clenching around his dick like it had just magically downloaded its own degenerate operating system that had absolutely zero interest in consulting the rest of her brain. Each slow, heavy throb sent another rolling wave of intense heat radiating through her pelvis, building on top of the last one until the wet warmth between her thighs had officially graduated from highly concerning to a full-blown forest fire.

Okay. Okay, think, Rebecca. You are a genius. You can negotiate this. You can successfully negotiate with a horny reptilian mutant before he reorganizes your spleen.

"Ghosty," she tried again, her voice only cracking twice this time. "P-please. Just... just pull out and I’ll—I’ll help you finish. W-with my hands. Or—"

Her face was burning so hot it could probably melt lead. She could literally feel the heat violently spreading down her neck and right across her exposed chest.

She was about to verbally offer something that absolutely no twenty-year-old S.T.A.R.S. officer should ever have to offer a hostile entity.

"Or my chest! Remember? You... you really liked my boobs a minute ago, right?!"

Ghosty’s cold, reptilian eyes snapped to her face with sudden, razor-sharp attention. His heavy hips stilled completely. The thick shaft lodged inside her stopped its relentless pulsing for just a fraction of a second.

Hope instantly flared up in Rebecca’s chest like a brilliant military signal flare.

Holy shit. He’s listening. The lizard likes tits.

"Y-yeah," she breathed, her free hand moving shakily toward her own ruined uniform.

Her shirt and sports bra were already completely shredded, hanging off her shoulders in useless white ribbons from when his scythe-claws had sliced them open. Her pale breasts were entirely bare, already completely slick with his saliva, her nipples bright red and permanently hardened from his earlier, relentless suckling.

She brought her free hand up, pressing her palm against the side of her right breast, aggressively shoving it inward to squish it against the left one. She squeezed them together, deliberately pressing her soft flesh into a prominent, sweaty line of deep cleavage.

"There," she gasped, her face burning hotter than a supernova. "That’s what you—ngh—what you want, right? Just pull out and you can have—ah—have these back. I’ll let you do whatever you—fuck—whatever you want with them!"

A tiny, rational part of her brain completely refused to believe that she had just offered to let a mutant do whatever he wanted to her breasts just to save her guts from being rearranged.

Ghosty’s vertical slit pupils dilated so fast it looked like someone had just flipped a light switch in his brain. The thin black lines violently expanded into massive, endless black pools that swallowed the milky white of his eyes almost entirely.

He didn’t pull out, but he didn’t push deeper either. Instead, he raised both of his massive, terrifying hands.

The hands equipped with three-inch, razor-sharp scythe claws.

"W-wait—" Rebecca gasped.

His heavy green hands descended directly onto her exposed chest. The rough, thick scales of his palms completely swallowed her pale breasts. He squeezed.

"Ahn!"

It wasn’t a gentle caress. It was a firm, incredibly heavy, possessive grope. The flat sides of those lethal claws rested terrifyingly close to her collarbones, but the thick, leathery pads of his fingers dug directly into her soft flesh, aggressively kneading her tits like bread dough.

Say something. You have to encourage him. Make him focus on your chest so he forgets about your pussy!

"Y-yes..." she stammered, completely abandoning her dignity. "Right there... l-like that! G-Good boy, Ghosty... j-just squeeze them... ahh!"

He grunted, visibly pleased by her vocal encouragement. His thumbs found her abused, bright red nipples and aggressively rolled them back and forth. The rough texture of his reptilian scales dragging against her hyper-sensitive peaks sent agonizingly good jolts of electricity straight down into her wet core.

"Nnngh! S-see?! Isn’t that better?!" she babbled, her back arching off the cold floor as he shamelessly milked her breasts with his giant claws. "Y-you can play with them all you want! S-so just... ah! J-just pull your dick out... please..."

He kneaded her harder, his massive hands completely dominating her chest. Then, he leaned down incredibly slowly. His wet, scaly snout brushed gently against the underside of her left breast.

She could feel the intense, furnace-like warmth of his reptilian breath washing over her bare skin in hot, humid puffs.

His tongue slid out. Long, thick, completely split down the middle, and aggressively dripping with warm, sweet-smelling saliva that splattered against her bare skin in fat, glistening drops.

The first wet stroke dragged directly across her hardened right nipple in one slow, deliberate, agonizingly wet line from the base all the way to the sensitive tip.

"Ah—f-fuck—!"

Her breast pressed upward right into his jaws, and Ghosty happily took the desperate invitation immediately. His soft, scaly lips sealed over her flesh, and his forked tongue aggressively curled around the stiff pink peak, swirling and lapping with a highly focused, rhythmic intensity that made her toes curl so hard inside her combat boots she genuinely thought she might pull a muscle.

Her free hand moved completely without her permission, her fingers tangling directly into the thick, dark scales on the back of his massive head. She wasn’t pushing him away anymore. She was actively holding him there, gently cradling his terrifying, lethal skull against her chest like he was just some kind of giant, scaly puppy nursing happily at her breast.

"G-good boy," she whimpered breathlessly, entirely submitting to the absolute absurdity of her situation. "J-just keep doing that... y-yeah... suck on it... ahhn!"

This is totally fine. This is a completely normal, scientifically sound tactical response. Operant conditioning.

Pavlov’s dog, except the dog is a terrifying bipedal lizard-monster with a ten-inch spiked dick currently stretching my pussy, and the bell is literally just my tits.

I am a literal genius. A tactical titty genius.

His jaws opened wider. Much, much wider.

The skeletal and muscular structure of his reptilian face creaked, his lower jaw dropping at an angle that looked completely unnatural for anything that wasn’t a snake.

"Wait—wait, what are you—what are you doing with your—oh god, that’s a really big mouth—"

He’s going to bite it off. He’s literally going to eat my chest. Ohmygod my breast is going to be in his stomach—

His mouth engulfed her entire left breast in one smooth, terrifyingly wet motion.

Not just the nipple. Not just the swollen, red areola. Her entire breast. Every single square inch of her pale, soft flesh was completely swallowed by a wet, hot, pulsing darkness.

His blunt, yellowed teeth pressed gently against the sensitive skin from all sides. He wasn’t biting. He wasn’t cutting her open with his massive jaw strength. He was just holding her chest with a firm, constant, incredibly heavy pressure.

"Ohhh—f-fuck—you’ve got—ngh—you’ve got my whole—ahhh—"

I’m inside a lizard’s mouth. My entire tit is inside a lizard’s mouth. Why is it so hot in there? Why does it feel like a wet furnace—

She could feel his long, thick forked tongue moving inside the warm, dark cavern of his mouth.

The two separate, muscular tips of his tongue were undulating against her trapped nipple in slow, pulsing waves. It was an incredibly intense, concentrated sensation that made her spine try to violently leave her body through the back of her skull. Every single wet pulse of his tongue drove another blinding bolt of pleasure through her chest, traveling down a direct, super-heated neural highway straight to her clitoris.

The heavy pressure of his teeth created an aching, sharp edge to the pleasure, a boundary of slight pain that somehow amplified every single wet lap of his tongue instead of making it worse.

He’s got my whole tit in his mouth. My ENTIRE tit. Am I a chew toy? A very specific, highly adult-oriented chew toy. Why is my brain still working? Why hasn’t my sanity just checked out entirely and left me in peace—

Her mind was completely scrambling, throwing up error codes and useless scientific data. The physical sensation was disturbingly, catastrophically good. The loud, wet sucking noises echoing from his closed mouth were making her ears ring with shame. The small, highly moralistic part of her that was supposed to be absolutely appalled had apparently clocked out early, packed its bags, and gone home for the weekend.

Her fingers tightened involuntarily in the thick, leathery scales on the back of his skull, holding him closer against her bare chest. A soft, pathetic little cooing sound escaped the back of her throat—a wet, needy noise that she was absolutely going to pretend never happened for the rest of her natural life.

"Good boy—ngh—good boy, Ghosty, just—ahhh—just stay right there—"

What am I doing? Why am I praising him? Why does this feel so weirdly, horribly natural? Why do I want to scratch behind his scaly ears and tell him he’s the best boy in the whole world? What kind of Stockholm syndrome speedrun am I even playing right now—

His thick, scaly tail thumped against the metal floor grates.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It was a happy, rhythmic beat that was both incredibly adorable and deeply, profoundly concerning given the current state of her vagina.

And then his hips shifted.

The thick, ribbed shaft inside her pulled back slightly. The backward-facing fleshy spines and heavy ridges of his hybrid dick dragged through her highly sensitive inner walls with a wet, slow, intense friction that she could feel all the way in her back teeth.

Then, he pressed forward again with a deliberate, heavy thrust that pushed him a fraction of an inch deeper than he’d been before.

Rebecca’s eyes flew open so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash.

"No—wait—you’re supposed to be—ngh—distracted! That was the whole point of the—ah—the tactical titty maneuver—"

He’s not distracted. He’s not distracted at all. He’s literally doing both—

Another slow, heavy thrust came.

The thick, purple-green head of his cock ground ruthlessly against her tight inner walls, the fleshy knobs on his shaft stretching her raw pussy to its absolute limit while his massive mouth continued to work her breast with that same relentless, pulsing rhythm.

He was doing both. At the same time.

The bastard was multi-tasking like some kind of horrifying biological overachiever with a double major in Tit Sucking and Vaginal Penetration.

"You absolute—nghhh—you absolute bastard—you’re supposed to—ahh—you’re having your cake and eating it too except the cake is my entire body—!"

My pussy. My poor, ruined pussy. He’s stretching it so wide. It feels so full. It’s too hot. I can’t breathe—

She tried shifting her hips to the side, desperately trying to create some distance, some kind of angle that might let her slide his massive shaft out of her naturally. Basic physics. If she could just get the right leverage, maybe gravity and her own sweat would do the hard work for her.

But the instant her tight, wet walls moved around his ribbed shaft, a sharp spike of oversensitive pleasure shot through her clitoris like someone had touched her with a live, sparking wire.

"Ow—fuck—okay that’s—ngh—that’s not—everything down there is really sensitive right now, so I’m going to need you to stop existing inside me for like—ahhh—like five to seven business days minimum—!"

Ghosty didn’t pull out.

But, to her immense relief, he also didn’t push any deeper. He just kept slowly grinding in that narrow, two-inch range, the massive shaft throbbing with that steady, heavy heartbeat rhythm inside her while his mouth continued to thoroughly work her breast.

His split tongue slid to her other nipple, giving it the same wet, incredibly thorough attention before moving back to the first. Then he trailed down to the shallow valley between her breasts, tracing the pale line of her sternum with careful, almost reverent licks.

She could feel the freezing metal grates beneath her bare back and the blazing furnace heat of his scaly body on top of her. The extreme contrast was doing terrible things to her brain, things she really, really did not want to examine too closely.

Her muscles were relaxing entirely against her will, melting into the hard floor while the fire between her legs kept burning higher and higher.

Another pulse of his cock. Another involuntary, tight clench of her walls. Another wave of thick, wet heat spreading from her core to every single extremity like she’d just been injected with liquid sunlight.

And the thoughts she was desperately trying to suppress just kept coming, bubbling up from the dark basement of her mind.

Maybe... maybe I’m not going to make it out of here.

The thought was quiet, but it was incredibly heavy.

I’m in a basement full of monsters. Billy is dead. My squad is missing. I’m probably going to get eaten by a giant spider, or a monkey, or some other horrible bioweapon. I might not even survive the night.

She looked up at the ceiling, her vision slightly blurry.

If I’m going to die anyway... if my life is basically over... does it really matter?

A strange, desperate sort of longing crept into her chest.

She had always wanted a wedding. She had always wanted to wait. She had imagined the soft candlelight, the white dress, the nervous, handsome husband whispering sweet, gentle things to her as he slowly took her virginity on their wedding bed.

What if... what if I just pretend?

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to plaster that beautiful, romantic image over her current, degenerate reality.

Just pretend... pretend this is a bed. Pretend he’s my husband. He’s handsome... he’s gentle... he’s holding me so close because he loves me...

She tried to visualize the handsome husband’s face.

But her brain, being a completely unhelpful piece of garbage, immediately glitched. The image of the handsome, faceless groom in a tuxedo was instantly replaced by Ghosty’s dopey, tongue-lolling, slightly brain-damaged canine face, complete with his milky white eyes and a big, happy pant.

No! Not his dog face! Oh my god, why did my brain do that?! I can’t even fantasize about a human husband without my dog ruinining it!

A pathetic, hysterical sob escaped her lips, half-laughter and half-crying.

"You’re... you’re ruining my wedding night..." she whimpered, her hands weakly clutching at his scaly shoulders. "I’m literally... nngh... imagining you in a tuxedo... you stupid, scaly... ahh! Stop throbbing!"

Ghosty let out a soft, confused-sounding whine, nuzzling his wet snout against her neck. His warm, humid breath washed over her collarbone in steady, rhythmic waves, and he kept making those incredibly soft, pathetic whimpering sounds that had absolutely no business sounding that gentle.

Rebecca took a shaky, ragged breath that came out as a wet gasp.

I’m already ruined. My pants are gone. My shirt is gone. I’m literally lying on a basement floor with a lizard’s cock inside me. The line of decency is so far behind me I can’t even see it with a telescope.

What if I just... let it happen?

No. Absolutely not. That was the degenerate, horny part of her brain talking.

But what’s the point of fighting? He’s already inside. The damage is done. If I fight, he might get mad and push the whole ten inches in and split me in half.

At least if I let him do it... I’ll get to feel what it’s like before I die. I won’t have to die a virgin in a cold, dark basement.

That is NOT a reasonable justification!

Isn’t it? Because from where I’m lying, and I am literally lying on my back with a giant purple-green reptile dick inside me, it sounds pretty fucking reasonable.

Ghosty shifted his weight again, his heavy muscular thighs pressing her legs wider. This time, the movement pushed his shaft a fraction of an inch deeper inside her wet, yielding hole.

"Ah—f-fuck—why does that—ngh—why does that feel so good when it should feel like being—ahhh—impaled?!"

The sensation drove every single bit of air from her lungs in one sharp, ragged exhale. Her back arched completely off the grates on instinct, her hips tilting upward to meet his weight, and she felt him sink just a little bit deeper.

Three inches now. Maybe three and a half.

She could feel the thick, ribbed shaft pressing against walls that had absolutely never been touched before, reaching deep, incredibly sensitive places inside her that her own fingers had never come close to.

The blunt head of his cock was resting directly against a deep, unknown spot—a tight, sensitive button she didn’t even know existed. Every single time his shaft pulsed, a rolling, full-body shudder rippled through her entire nervous system, making her lower lips twitch and squeeze around him.

Her hand was still wrapped around the base of his shaft. She could feel exactly how much was inside her—three and a half inches of thick, throbbing heat—and exactly how much was still waiting outside.

Her fingers squeezed instinctively around the remaining five and a half inches of raw, veiny, spiked meat.

The cock pulsed hard against her palm, as if acknowledging her grip.

When did I stop trying to push him away?

She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact millisecond her hands had gone from shoving desperately at his chest to gently cradling his scaly head against her bare breasts.

She was too tired. Too overwhelmed. Too filled with that thick, radiating warmth that was rapidly turning her brain to mush.

Fuck it.

Her hips gave a tiny, completely involuntary hitch upward, pressing her wet folds harder against his massive shaft. Her face burned so hot she couldn’t even look him in the eye.

"G-Ghosty..." she stammered, her voice a pathetic, trembling whisper, completely devoid of any remaining S.T.A.R.S. authority. "C-can you... can you at least turn back into the dog first...?"

The seven-foot-tall reptilian bioweapon completely froze, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, staring down at her in absolute, utter confusion.

Author Note:

Wanted to wrap it up in this Chapter but things got a bit bigger than expected. I had been a bit too generous with events and dialogues etc so overall it had caused the remaining scene uptill the end of inter-species fluid exchange to be around 15k words.

Now i don’t know whether you guys wanna read such long events or not, and i also didn’t want to keep hostage of nsfw for too long, so i am gonna make the 15k Chapter count as 3 Chapters only and done by either saturday or sunday at max.

That works?

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link:patreon.com/HornyShitler