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Chapter Text

Dragons were fascinating conversationalists, Elora had discovered. She'd spent the entirety of a sunny afternoon relaxing in a patch of soft, springy turf, curled between an Artisan and a Beast Maker. She could have listened to the Artisan discourse on sculpture for days, while the techniques for creating new and wondrous creatures that the Maker described were nothing short of mind-blowing. Sadly, it was almost time for them to go. Elora, though, was going to make one last effort to get them to stay.

The dragons had deep, sonorous voices, and powerful bodies, with muscles rippling beneath their scales. Both features had, throughout their conversation, turned Elora's mind from their rarefied subjects to rather more base thoughts. She wondered if her companions were as interested in her.

"Hey, uh, weird question," she said, as the dragons stirred their huge bodies either side of her. "But have you guys ever been with a faun before?"

"Been with?" the Artisan asked. "What do you mean?"

"I think I might have an idea." The Maker was quicker on the uptake, perhaps because of his profession.

"Well..." Elora rolled onto her back, and let her legs flop apart.

Normally, the fur covering her nethers let her wear her leafy dress open at the waist with no modesty issues whatsoever. Now, her arousal saw her labia pink and swollen, her juices slicking the fur around them to their surface, outlining them for anyone to see.

Low, reptilian growls rumbled in the dragons' chests, and they hauled themselves up, closing in on her.

"Hmm," the Artisan said, "now I see what you mean."

"And how exactly would you like us to 'be with' you?" the Maker said, amusement in his tone. Not just amusement. At his crotch a slit had appeared between his belly scales, something thick and red nosing its way out. Elora felt her walls clench.

"I was thinking you could hold me up, on my back," she said, trying to keep her voice casual. "One of you gets my mouth, the other...you can guess."

The dragons glanced at each other. To seal the deal, Elora swiftly unfastened her dress and let it drop to the floor, baring the rest of her slender, orange-and-cream-furred body. Her nipples were as aroused as her pussy, poking proudly through the fur on her pert breasts.

That settled it. The Maker swept her up, holding her in one huge claw, letting her head loll back so she got an upside-down view of the Artisan's penis coming into full erection. It was vast, with a vicious-looking sawtooth ridge running down its back, and at its base a faun-breaking knot, round and shiny. The thought of that huge shaft filling her throat and plugging her mouth sent a tight little shiver through Elora's whole body.

The dragons had quite correctly picked up on her eagerness. The Maker pulled her against himself, and she wrapped her legs around him as best she could, her hooves not quite meeting above his thick tail. Likewise, as the Artisan closed in, she flung her arms back and caught hold of his hips, steadying herself. His cock loomed over her face, close enough for her to take a lick. Which she did, tasting his salty musk, feeling his immense heat and making him growl out his first hint of pleasure.

Preoccupied with that, Elora didn't notice what the Maker was doing until his speartip of a cockhead was pressed snug against her cunt. His tapered end slipped in like a dream: a trojan horse for the huge bulk that followed. Elora howled, stretching around him, every inner nerve-ending alight, flaring with his heat and hers, half-protesting, half-glorying as her tissues adjusted themselves to this new reality. He bottomed out with a bump, his knot bouncing off her mound, glancing against her clit, sending another stomach-roiling blast of ecstasy shooting through her.

She hadn't finished screaming before the Artisan took advantage, ploughing into her mouth with as much haste as his companion had taken her pussy. She felt his spines flatten themselves against the roof of her mouth, scraping softly along her hard palate. Then, as he stuffed more and more of himself into her, she was forced to stretch open her jaw to the point where it ached. Her drool flowed freely, pattering down onto the grass, the flow doubling as he hit the back of her mouth and triggered her gag reflex.

Elora subdued it with a hasty swallow, barely able to take a breath before he'd blocked off her throat entirely. She kept on gulping madly, massaging him with the rings of muscle in her esophagus like she was swallowing a particularly huge and unwieldy hunk of food. Tears sprang to her eyes, which rolled up in her skull, and she uttered a desperate, delirious:

"Mmmmmmmmgh!"

It probably only took seconds for the Artisan to hilt himself in her gullet, his knot pressed to her lips, but her lungs were already beginning to burn. She hung there, transfixed, sealed at both ends, still for a heartbeat before the dragons started to move again.

The Artisan dragged himself from her throat in a shower of spittle, giving her the luxury of a breath before he slammed back into her. The Beast Maker pulled out just before he did so, and Elora quivered in the dragons' grasp as her walls clung to his shaft, his spines raking her flesh, sparking off individual spots of pleasure that merged into one big one along the entire length of her twat. A hum that would have been a scream rippled through her throat, and the Artisan roared, jets of flame bursting from his nostrils, the heat from them so intense that Elora felt sweat instantly break out across her body and soak into her fur. His knot popped into her maw, and she closed her lips around it and sucked it hard before he pulled it back out.

The Artisan's next thrust drove her back onto the Maker's cock, and she could imagine them meeting in the middle, cumming together, twin bursts of dragon jizz filling her up until she popped. Reality didn't quite match her fervid imagination, of course, and the dragons were careful not to hurt her, but that rough dual thrust set the tone, jolting her over and over with the impact of their huge, powerful bodies. Their roars came more frequently, the flame issuing from their mouths and noses turning the air around them into a sauna. She had to close her eyes against the sweat dripping into them. It fell from her like rain, along with a constant, gloopy, precum-infused waterfall of saliva, and the torrent of juice displaced from her gaping pussy.

Elora came way before the dragons. She howled around the Artisan's cock, felt her cunt spasm on the Maker's, accompanied by a high-pressure spurt of her wetness. The aftershocks were almost a drawn out continuation of the original climax, fuelled by the dragons screwing her right through them, driving her to new, maddening heights. She came to think of herself as their twin-holed fucksleeve, a toy for them to use, and loved every second of it. All she had to do was cling to them, keep her arms tight around the Artisan, her legs around the Maker, to groan and drool and ache and cum.

With earsplitting, reptilian screams, after putting Elora through another half-dozen body-wracking orgasms, the dragons finally came. The Maker hurled himself against her, burying his knot in her pussy, and she groaned helplessly as it swelled, locking them together, cum flooding into her in massive, bloating gouts. The Artisan just managed to avoid knotting her mouth, but kept his prick pumping equally huge volumes of his seed down her throat, filling her until her stomach felt as tight as a drum. Limp in their grasp, she shivered through one last climax.

They held Elora suspended until the Maker's knot subsided, the Artisan pulling out of her mouth so she could pant and gasp for much-needed oxygen. At last, with a burst of pearly white slopping from her distended pussy, the Maker was able to pull out, and they carefully lowered her to the grass. Settling her on the cool turf, they curled protectively around her, stroking her, flicking out forked tongues to make an attempt at cleaning her.

"I had no idea fauns were such pleasant conversationalists," said the Artisan, with a smile.

"I didn't think dragons were, either. But I’ve only met one before."

"They do say it's good to talk," said the Beast Maker. "We'll have to do it again sometime soon."

Chapter Text

Peridot swallowed, her breath coming faster as her dick hardened, swelling with simulated blood. New anatomy, shapeshifted under Amethyst's careful guidance, came with new physiological responses. The sight of Amethyst's anatomy was stirring some serious responses in Peridot.

How could a fat, purple, moisture-dripping slit be so alluring, for example? The...biologicalness of it would have disgusted Peridot just a few short months ago, but now she wanted to bury her face in it, let the juices run into her mouth, lick and suck at the swollen bud that crowned it, listen to Amethyst's screams and breath in her musk. And when she was drunk on both, she'd rear up, take her cock in her fist, press it to Amethyst's drooling opening and-

Ahh, but that wasn't what Amethyst wanted today. Peridot was meant to be paying attention to the hole above it. The wide, well-stretched pucker, winking between Amethyst's immense buttocks as she, kneeling, held them spread apart.

"C'mon, P-dot," Amethyst said, glancing over her shoulder and shaking her long white hair out of her eyes. "What're you waiting for? You've got the lube, right?"

"Hold on," Peridot shot back. "I'm - analysing."

"Less analysis, more anal, sis."

Peridot groaned. "You're a clod."

"Yeah, and ya love me for it. Now get over here."

Peridot grabbed the bottle of lube Amethyst had dragged out of one of her junk piles and headed over, hunkering down behind her fuckbuddy. Amethyst grinned, faced forwards and dropped to her hands and knees, arching her back to bring her prominent arse into even greater prominence.

Peridot's cock throbbed even harder at the sight, and she all but stumbled forward, dropping to her knees. She fumbled open the lube's cap and poured out far too much. Dropping the bottle, she reached out with her dry hand and spread Amethyst's arse, dragging her slippery fingers down between her cheeks, smearing that fat, pliant pucker until it was glistening.

Amethyst took two fingers like they were nothing. Peridot shoved them in up to the last knuckle, feeling Amethyst's walls contract and cling to them, heat rising, turning her skin clammy with perspiration. How disgusting she'd thought sweat glands were when Amethyst had first told her about them. And how sensuous she found them now. She thrust, flicking her fingers in and out, rapid-fire reaming Amethyst's hole, her thumb creeping down to hook itself into Amethyst's already sloppy cunt. A third finger went into her arse as easily as the others, as did the fourth.

"Nnn, fuck, Peridot," Amethyst groaned. "You in some kind of a hurry?"

"Of course I am! You should know, you're the one who made me add this ridiculous reproductive probe and a frankly distracting endocrine system to a perfectly functional body."

"Haha, I guess I did turn you into a horny little gremlin, huh? Well, I'm all yours."

"Yeah you are," Peridot retorted, with a bit of the growl that she knew Amethyst liked.

She grabbed the lube again, squeezed it until it crumpled and splattered a vague line over the top of her cock. Popping her fingers out of Amethyst's hole, she gripped her shaft and pumped it until it gleamed like a facet of her own gem.

"Ready for this?" she asked, slapping it down along Amethyst's crack, with a splap of lube on lube. "I did a pretty good job growing this thing. It might be too much for you to handle."

"Sure, dude, it's the biggest I've seen." She took what was definitely an apprehensive breath at the thought of taking it and most certainly wasn't a yawn. "Stick it in, maybe?"

"Very well! I, the great and generous Peridot, will give my loyal Amethyst what she deserves."

"Cool."

Peridot grabbed both of Amethyst's cheeks, burying her hands in their bountiful flesh, sinking her fingers in until the dimples she made almost swallowed them. She wrapped her cock in Amethyst's buttocks, squeezing down until she formed a tight tunnel. She thrust with a groan, and watched her cockhead pop out from the top of Amethyst's crack, precum beading at its green tip. She drew back, spread Amethyst's arse again and let her cockhead lodge against her ring.

Peridot was careful at first, gradually widening Amethyst's hole bit by bit, trying to judge her limits. Amethyst, it turned out, didn't have any.

"C'mon, Peri! You're not gonna shatter me."

She jerked back, impaling herself on Peridot's cock with a lusty moan. Peridot squealed in surprise, knocked off balance by Amethyst's sudden hip thrust, and clawed at her partner's waist with slippery hands, trying to keep herself upright. She managed it, overcorrected and fell across Amethyst's back, her cock sinking snug into her butthole, balls swinging to slap against Amethyst's pussy.

"Mmmffffuck yeah," Amethyst whined. "You really did do a good job on that thing."

"And I haven't even started using it yet," said Peridot. She was getting into her role, and grinned fiercely, dropping down to smother herself in Amethyst's lush mane of silvery hair.

She pushed off with her legs, dragging herself out of Amethyst's clutching arse, and threw herself back, letting gravity and momentum do the work. A slap echoed around the junk piles, her hips making contact with Amethyst's butt, and she rebounded from its plushness. That suited her just fine, and she drove herself down again, another, louder slap, and another, mixed with the squish of lube, plus her and Amethyst's rising moans.

Peridot fell into Amethyst, inhaling her scent, reaching round to squeeze her hanging tits and her soft tummy. She wriggled one hand into the crevice between Amethyst's slick, fluffy thighs, curling her fingers up to bury them in the swampy morass of her cunt, the squelch of Amethyst's excess of juices joining the filthy orchestra. Amethyst howled at the dual penetration, throwing back her head, such that Peridot could stretch herself across her back and kiss her neck, nipping at it with her sharp little teeth.

Peridot's bliss surged, cock pulsing, nipples tingling as she ground her tits into Amethyst's hair. She could feel her scrotum tightening, stopping her balls from smacking quite so effectively against Amethyst's mound. That was alright. She could provide plenty of replacement stimulation. She flicked out her thumb to grind against Amethyst's overripe acorn of a clit. Amethyst's scream was like a crack of thunder. Her normally loose, sloppy walls tightened like iron around Peridot's fingers, her rectum did the same to her cock.

Gritting her teeth, pounding against the pressure, Peridot made her last few strokes, the ecstasy she'd given to Amethyst returning a thousand-fold. She wailed, forced herself down until she was utterly lodged in Amethyst's arse, and let her bliss surge from her, filling Amethyst's depths with rope after rope of simulated gem-cum. Then, there was light.

She wasn't just flowing into Amethyst, Amethyst was flowing into her. She'd never felt such an intense connection. Their bodies became diffuse, then became one. Four arms unfolded from a short, stout body, two skinny and dextrous, two powerful and muscular. Four eyes blinked behind two pairs of ridiculous pointy anime shades.

"Ohhhhh yeah!" said a new voice. "Enstatite has arrived!"

Enstatite stood, taking stock of herself. There was Peridot, and there was Amethyst, and between them, there was she. An individual, for now. Her own cum dripped from her own arsehole. Now there was a paradox. She still had her cock, and her pussy beneath it.

She smiled. "Ready for another round, Enstatite?"

Her skinny arms gestured, and scrap metal flew from the junk mounds, liquified and reformed into a massive, shiny steel buttplug. A flick of her fingers, and it soared behind her, nestling cold between her cheeks.

"Don't mind if I do, Enstatite."

She snapped her fingers, and her toy slid effortlessly into her.

Chapter Text

I gasped for breath as I rutted against her, driving my hips to hers as hard as I possibly could, the bed creaking dangerously beneath us with every thrust. My stomach was tight with the effort of holding back my orgasm. My cock throbbed in her pussy, responding to the clench and quiver of her walls with pre-climactic twitches of its own. Slowing down wasn't an option.

It took a lot of work to satisfy Renamon; she needed quick, hard strokes, and lots of them: thrusts that pierced her right to her core. The effort was worth it, even as I sweated into her fur and panted for every breath I could get. Her deep moans were music to me, and each one I heard made me coerce my aching muscles into continued action.

Maybe it was because I was three-quarters her size that I had to go to such lengths. She was big, and perhaps someone bigger than me could have given her the pounding she always so sorely wanted. But she never had reason to criticise my technique, and I wasn't about to go slack on her. Besides, our height difference brought with it fringe benefits.

Like the fact that as I was, stretched out across her body, resting with my forearms either side of her and my arse going up and down like a pumpjack, I could bury my face in her magnificent breasts, their soft warmth pressing against my cheeks as I worked my nose into her cleavage. I turned my head, licked, wetting down a patch of fur, and sucked a bump of her flesh into my mouth, working my lips around it. I always ended up with hair stuck between my teeth, but again, it was worth it.

Back up, out of her boobs' sweltering embrace, over to a nipple, thick, pink and round, jutting proudly up out of the surrounding fur. I engulfed it again and heard her sweet squeal. I lashed my tongue around it, working saliva into her skin, tracing out the whorls and goosebumps, keeping enough suction on her teat that I could pull back and drag her breast with me. I bit down, ever so gently, teeth sinking half a millimetre into that sensitive bud, and there was her scream again.

She clasped my arse, forcing me deeper into herself with easy strength, and I felt the tips of her claws prickle me. I took that as a sign that she wanted the last reserves of my energy, so I threw myself back into her. I let her nipple fall from my mouth, her breast bouncing back into shape - and bouncing in general, each time my body crashed against hers. I instead planted my face in the creamy cascade of fur that curled across her chest.

God, her fur was just about the sexiest part of her, aside from everything else. Everywhere else, it was like thick velvet, massaging me, turning damp and clingy with our combined sweat, but here it was cottony soft. I stifled a sneeze as strands of it tickled my nose, and inhaled, breathing in her scent: a faintly animal musk underlaid with something like new electronics. I'd have bottled it and worn it as cologne, if I could.

Another scream, far more raucous, and I whined with her. We were entering the final stretch. Renamon writhed under me, her hands leaving my butt to travel up my body, letting me pull out of her and slam back in in huge, smooth, powerful waves. I raised my head from her chest tuft and caught her staring down at me, her eyes like ice chips in ink. Locked in her gaze, our voices rose together, our pleasure rose together, 'til at last a twin howl escaped our throats.

Her thighs wrapped round my waist like a pair of constrictors, trapping me inside her while she bucked and spasmed. I let go, quivering, my eyelids fluttering, my voice breaking, while spurt after spurt of my jizz erupted from my cock and splattered against her insides, pooling around the bottom of my shaft.

Eventually, when her post-orgasmic rictus had passed, she'd unwrapped her legs from around my waist and allowed blood flow to return to my extremities, I popped my cock out of her in a flood of our mingled fluids, and crawled my way up her body. She met my kiss with a sloppy, open-mawed one of her own, her tongue overwhelming mine, saliva dripping everywhere.

For a moment, she left, and came back holding a bottle of sports drink.

"Drink up," she said, tossing it to me. She clambered back onto the bed, getting onto all fours, lifting her tail so I could see the gorgeous sight of her well-fucked hole, my cum drooling from it, swaying in a gloopy stalactite.

"You've got more work to do," she continued, with a flick of her tail and a vulpine grin over her shoulder.

I popped the bottle open and drained it in one long swig, chucked the empty bottle aside and positioned myself behind her, bringing my hands down with a clap on either arse cheek. Tough job, I mused, as I pulled myself towards her, but someone had to do it.

Chapter Text

In a sumptuous hotel in Dalmasca, Fran licked. She didn't have much choice. Her face was pressed up between a woman's thighs. Her lips were sealed to another kind of lips. Her sensitive Viera nose was full of the perfume of pussy, her sharp Viera mind was blunted with lust. Licking was her purpose, right now. To send her tongue sliding up between slippery folds, worming into hidden crevices. To point it, to thrust, to swirl, to listen to the delightful noises that the recipient of her affection produced.

The woman was a Hume. Fran was rapidly coming to know her as Mistress. When she was near, Fran craved her, when she was away, Fran craved the idea of her. Particularly the idea of kneeling before her. Warrior, adventurer, proud Viera: irrelevant in the bedroom. She'd found her submissive side in her love. And so, she licked.

She also licked because prior to shoving her pussy in her face, Mistress had attached a variety of toys to Fran, and slid others into her. Soft rubber clamps held a pair of beads to her nipples; a similar one was attached to her clit. A thick dildo occupied her pussy, and a bulbous plug her arsehole, the latter with a delightfully humiliating cotton-tail attached. Magically powered, the toys buzzed against and inside her most sensitive parts. Mistress held the controller linked to them, and the harder Fran licked, the faster and harder she made them vibrate.

"That's my good little slut-bunny," Mistress crooned. A killing insult for most Viera, but when she said it it made Fran melt. She tweaked the controller up another notch, and Fran hummed into her quim, moan muffled.

With her free hand, Mistress worked at Fran's ears, stroking them up and down. Fran was particularly helpless against this treatment. She adored the way Mistress genty bent and flexed them, squeezed them together, ran her fingers across the short velvet fur covering them. When she stuck out her thumb and scratched the soft inner parts of Fran's pinnae, Fran would have drooled, if she hadn't already been. She was sure she could have climaxed from Mistress touching her ears alone.

Mistress swivelled her hips, pressing her clit to Fran's mouth.

"Finish me off," she demanded, and Fran parted her lips, took her Mistress' jewel between them, mouthing, dabbing at it with her tongue.

"Mmmmm," Mistress groaned, tightening her grip on Fran's ears. Up went the controller again, the vibrations across Fran's body became almost intolerable. She brought her teeth to bear: the lightest of bites, and Mistress screamed in delight.

"That's it, nibble nibble. Good rabbit! Such a perfect clit-sucker."

She rode Fran's face, humping against her, smearing her with wetness, while Fran did her best to live up to her praise, suck and lick, suck and lick, 'til Mistress howled and, squirter that she was, covered Fran's nose and mouth and chin with her scent. It was warm, it was rich, and Fran felt herself tightening all over, ready for her own release. Right up until Mistress brought the toys back down to their lowest setting, leaving them as a whispery tickle on the edge of Fran's senses.

She nearly whined her disappointment, but stifled it at the last moment. Mistress pulled away from her, sticky strands adhering from crotch to chops, until they broke and splashed to the sheets below.

"Don't worry, pretty thing," she said. "You'll get your reward. Silly toys aren't good enough for my Fran. She needs a good hard fucking, doesn't she?"

Fran smiled up at her. "Yes, Mistress. I think she does."

Mistress disappeared behind her, leaving Fran quivering on all fours, trying to keep as still as she could even as her pussy ached for stimulation, throbbing around the girth of the dildo. She felt Mistress settle behind her, heard, her ears twitching, the squeak of leather and the jingle of buckles. Fingers alighted on the dildo's base and slowly twisted out of her. And how she felt its absence.

There, though, was Mistress' body, warm across her, breasts pressing against her back. Fran felt her take one of her ears between her teeth and bite down, sadistically slow, until the pain made even the resilient Fran cry out.

Mistress relented. The pain faded quickly, leaving in the indentations of her teeth a raw heat, a constant reminder to Fran that Mistress had marked her. She almost wished Mistress would do the same to her other ear. But she had no interest in that, instead running a hand briefly across Fran's wounded ear, then down over her scalp, her neck, her shoulders, underneath to cup and weigh one of her breasts. She hefted it, flexing her fingers into its softness, and Fran whined as she pressed the faintly buzzing bullet attached to it hard against her nipple.

Mistress thrust, bucking her hips against Fran's rear, and her strap-on swung up and slapped Fran's pussy: a solid, weighty impact. Her breath betrayed her excitement, breaking in waves on Fran's neck, through the silvery curtain of her hair, and she drew back. Fran felt the tip of the dildo at her opening and held her breath, screwing up fistfuls of blanket in her hands.

A jolt, and Mistress was in her, filling her, gliding in until the tip of her rubber cock all but kissed Fran's womb. Mistress rose up, seized both of Fran's ears and tugged on them until Fran was forced to throw her head back, screaming as Mistress committed herself to a fast, forceful fuck. Foreplay was finished; Mistress knew what Fran wanted, and Fran loved her for providing it. Her body rocked under Mistress' impacts, her mouth hung slack, breath escaping her in steamy puffs, and she was heedless of the strand of drool swaying from her bottom lip.

"Cum for me, bunny," Mistress demanded, and how could Fran refuse.

She came convulsing, rutting back to spear herself on Mistress' cock, yowling as Mistress jammed all the toys up to full power and left them there until they were unbearable. She collapsed forward, catching herself on her forearms, keening and sobbing, her strength flowing out of her. Mistress was there to soothe, as she always was, fondling her ears, squeezing them together so one hand could stroke them together.

Fran felt Mistress slide out of her, and she flopped over onto her side. Mistress embraced her, turned her towards herself, and their lips met. They held each other, drifting near sleep, equals for a while. Until the next time Fran needed to kneel.

Chapter Text

The parlour was dark and web-strewn and should, by rights, have been a silent, muffled place, disturbed only by the rustle of the myriad spiders scuttling over the walls. Right now, though, it was disturbed by the slishing, squelchy sounds of someone massaging lubed up flesh, of heavy breathing and pleasured gasps. Plus strange, aristocratic giggles.

"Ahuhuhu," Muffet chortled, "that's it! Give me some more."

Her two men - volunteers to make her special afternoon tea - were huge humans, hearty and hung. Their immense cocks jutted from their crotches, swollen with potency, blue veins bulging, but to Muffet's mind they were mere spigots, despite the attention she was paying to them. What really mattered were the fat hanging sacks swaying softly beneath, full of the delicious cream that her most important (and lucrative) customers so appreciated. The infusion she'd given her boys to drink before they'd started work would see their spunk constantly replenished, ready to be milked from them over and over.

And Muffet did just that, a hand each on their shafts, another pair massaging their cockheads, while her lowest set held delicate china teacups beneath their slits, ready to catch the impending flood. She was naked. To provide them some visual interest, of course, though she had to admit the way their eyes roved across her short frame, over her petite tits and down to her crotch was very flattering.

Almost simultaneously, her men groaned. Their dicks twitched in Muffet's grasp, their nuts tightened and released, spurts of their cum burst from the tips of their cocks and overflowing the cups. Muffet put them aside, laying them on a spindly table already crowded with filled vessels. Some of the jizz had splashed over onto her hands, and she licked them clean, savouring the taste. She grabbed fresh cups, put them in place and began to jerk again, keeping the lewd production line going.

It was purely commercial interest that motivated her. She certainly didn't adore the taste of human cum, or the smell of it, and she definitely wasn't thinking about what else she could be doing with those rampant cocks, or what her humans could do with them to her. Likewise, when her strokes began to get sloppier, and when she aimed an erupting cock wrong so that its' first splatter missed the cup and splashed across her chest, wet warmth seeping into her chitinous skin, why, that was just because she was getting tired. Milking humans was an exhausting business, after all. And such was her weariness that she ended up with cum across her face, in her hair, down her stomach, dribbling down to mingle with the wetness (which was absolutely honest sweat) around her pussy...

In fact, it was so tiring that poor Muffet eventually had to give up on using her hands, and bring her mouth to bear, kneeling to carefully take one cock between her venomous fangs while she kept on jerking off the other. If anything, it was even tougher opening her throat to her volunteer and swallowing him down, but she'd never been one to shy away from hard, rewarding work. She bobbed her head and rolled his balls in her hand, stimulating him, she hoped, into producing an extra-rich wad for her. He did, but far sooner than she expected. Groaning and shivering above her, he unloaded down her throat, and in her shock she wanked his companion to completion and made him waste his entire load across her face. Blinking jizz out of her manifold eyes, she coughed up white gobs of it until she could speak again.

"That's okay, dearies," she said. "plenty of time to get it right."

Despite a few more mishaps, and the fact that she had to drop a hand between her legs to scratch at the unaccountable itch that had arisen there, after a lot more arduous, messy work, that ended up with her sticky with cum from head to foot, Muffet ended up filling all her cups. She stretched, grinned at her boys.

"There! Such a lovely lot of cream. You did so well, I think you both deserve a reward."

She turned away from them, took a few paces and bent forward, reaching back, spreading her arse with her two middle hands, her pussy with her lower ones.

"Ahuhuhu! Naughty!" she cackled, as her volunteers moved in, lifted her, sandwiched her between them. "Using your boss' body for your own pleasure, how lecherahhhhh!"

They dropped her onto their cocks, spitting her in both holes, and she reflected that she was far too generous an employer before the pleasure of their first thrusts rendered her incapable of verbal thought.