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All proceeds from the donation are going towards medical expenses for my sister, as outlined [url=https://www.furaffinity.net/journal/2579188/]IN THIS JOURNAL[/url]\nIf you would like to commission me, and help my sister out in the meanwhile, (both awesome things to do) note me or shout or email me or AIM me.\n\n- - - - - - - - - - -\n\nThis story follows the most interesting day in the life of Diesel, proud warrior of the greenskin clan. He finds a God Machine in the woods, and since he's awesome, he knows it will make him an Orc the likes of which none have other seen. And he is right. \n\n--WARNING---\nExtreme body modification and guro involved here, and non consensual at that.\nIf you don't like the story, that's fine, please note me about what you didn't like about it and we can discourse about it.\n\nAll characters who are owned by other people (c) those people, other characters (c) me\nStory (c) me. ", "description_bbcode_parsed": "This is a donation-commission from :iconzyxxs:. All proceeds from the donation are going towards medical expenses for my sister, as outlined IN THIS JOURNAL
If you would like to commission me, and help my sister out in the meanwhile, (both awesome things to do) note me or shout or email me or AIM me.

- - - - - - - - - - -

This story follows the most interesting day in the life of Diesel, proud warrior of the greenskin clan. He finds a God Machine in the woods, and since he's awesome, he knows it will make him an Orc the likes of which none have other seen. And he is right.

--WARNING---
Extreme body modification and guro involved here, and non consensual at that.
If you don't like the story, that's fine, please note me about what you didn't like about it and we can discourse about it.

All characters who are owned by other people (c) those people, other characters (c) me
Story (c) me. ", "writing": "“So Humpable”\n\nFUNdraising Commission for Zyxxs\n\nBy Charn\n\nDiesel was a big orc. A Proud orc. Some said that sun shone differently on him. That it was afraid of him, and that is why his smooth, gleaming glossy skin was a rich, darker olive green than the other orcs in his tribe. Some said that he held the Seed of the Infinite inside him, and that was why his orbs were so large, and hung so low, weighted down with the burden of the essence of Godliness. His muscles bulked and strained every time he went hunting, and every time he went hunting, he brought back a mastodon, or a pack of gazelle, or a family of lions, all carried or dragged back with his powerful muscles. Yes, Diesel was like a god among his brethren. Worshiped by the females, who tore at their breasts at his apparent disdain for their kin. \n\nYes, Diesel was a manly orc, an orc who took his pleasure with other orcs. Any warrior who seemed half as worthy as him would find himself dragged out of the drinking cave, usually by his ears, and thrown face down in the mud. He’d think it was an old tree trunk that had bumped against his ass, at first, but no, it was Diesel’s big green fuckstick, slamming and grinding it’s way into that poor orc’s butt, stretching and ripping him open as the massive brute took his pleasures out on those he deemed ‘fitting’ enough to handle him. In time, even that became an almost religious rites, for only the most proudest of warriors would be raped by the big dark green orc. And soon enough, not only the girl orcs, but the man orcs, too, were clamoring for his attention.\n\nAnd then, one day, all of that changed...\n\n \tThe morning started like any other. The bugs hummed their incessant droning songs, the great fire in the sky shone down, warming skin and stone alike, and Diesel woke up with morning wood. One arm was flung out behind his head, the other on his chest. He rubbed lazily at the patch of black, curly hair that formed a triangle, pointing down, on his chest. His finger tips slid lazily down, through the meandering trail that the fuzz made, over his thick pectorals and down along his cobbled abs. He yawns a great, tusky yawn, tongue slapping up against the roof of his mouth, and then felt that erection against his knuckles. He grabbed it, the orcs stubby fingers -almost- wrapping around that big, thick orc trunk. Gave the loose skin on it a lazy stroke, pulling up, then pushing down. \n\nThe thick, soft foreskin that protected his cap snapped over the head, then peeling back, pulled taut against his erection again. He pulled up, again, and then back down, lazily enjoying the feel of the skin rubbing against his shaft. Idly he thought about the new generation of warriors... Ichbod was getting to be old enough to learn his place in the tribe. \n\nHe felt that erection stiffen, his fat, saggy orc balls churning against the warm dirt beneath him, hanging down and nestled between his thighs like two ripe melons. Yeah, it had been a week or two, it was time to show some new kid what it meant... to be a warrior.\n\nDiesel let go of that erection, which wobbled in the air, angrily. ‘Hey, don’t forget about me’, it demanded, but Diesel ignored it. He climbed out of his hut, into the brisk morning air, cock jutting proudly. Down below, the other orcs had already slaughtered and were fire roasting breakfast. He wasn’t sure what it used to be, but it had been big and apparently four legged, the various sections of it’s body twisting slowly on an old wooden pike over the camp fire.\n\n“Diesel! Bad news,” said one of the orcs, a light green, fat bellied elder, hobbling over hurriedly with his big wooden walking stick.\n\nDiesel sneered at the old orc, making sure to reach down and fondle his melons as he deigned to listen to him. “Yah, chief? What is wrong now?”\n\nThe chief tried to ignore the open fondling, but his own brown lion-skin toga slowly starting to tent. “Hunting party did not come back last night, or this morning. Up in the north, where the gray smoke comes. You need to find out what happened to them.”\n\n“Gelg and Galig?” Diesel snorted. “They probably fell into their own deer pit. I will go up there, and if I find them, I will finish them myself.” He glanced around, then leaned in. “Oh, chief.”\n\nChief folded his arms over his chest, the hint of a withered erection peeking slowly out over the top of his toga. “Yuh what.”\n\n“Ichbod is your grandson, yah? Better make sure he eat lots of sweetmeat today, he gets his rite tonight.”\n\nChief blanched at the thought. “But he’s not even of age to be a warrior, you can’t-”\n\n“I make decision, not you, old man!” Diesel pushed at the tribal chieftain’s chest, then turned, without letting him counter, and stalked back into his hut. Well, it was actually the chieftain’s hut, but if you threaten someone with enough anal rape they’ll ‘give’ you anything. He grabbed his spear, his tusk dagger, and the green amulet of protection he always wore for hunting. Or went to grab it, but it was gone. Hmm. Diesel fished around for it, but it was gone. Had he left it somewhere? Perhaps in the drinking cave?\n\nHmm. No, he was sure he had worn it last night, to bed in fact, but it was gone, now. He briefly considered stabbing some orcs until someone told him where it was, but then again, he didn’t need it. He had a spear, he had a dagger, and he had his Mace, that thick green trunk that never seemed to soften, the most impressive weapon of the three. He would be fine.\n\nHe had only one thing left to do, and that was the most time consuming of them all. He found the sheep stomach full of rendered raccoon fat, and squeezing a thick blob of it into his hand, he pushed it against his chest. Slowly he smeared the cold, greasy lard against his pectorals, using both hands to grind and smear and smooth it down over his torso. Down over his six pack, his high, tight muscle butt, down either thighs. \n\nHe greased up his hanging melons, gritting his teeth as he squeezed and rubbed them. Yes, they were sensitive today, he would definitely be rutting that teenager tonight. Then over his smooth bald head, his cheeks, his ears. What? It protected from bug bites. And it moisturized. Diesel liked to look his best.\n\nDiesel pulled on a simple leather belt, sheathing a skein of water on his left hip, his dagger on his right hip, and a pouch stuffed with jerky chunks to the front. It hung down on it’s leather thongs, so that it jostled for space with his equally bulky, hanging balls, and his getup was complete. He stepped out into the sunshine, spear in hand, the coon fat gleaming and glistening, making him almost sparkle in the sunshine. He paused, dramatically, waiting for the oohs and grunts of approval from the other orcs. And waited. And waited. Finally he peered down, but all of the orcs were busy feasting on their breakfast.\n\n“Okay, Diesel go. Now!” he proclaimed. Some of them looked up, and he saw a hand or two wave buhbye, but none of the usual dances of joy at seeing his handsome body. He would have to get a different kind of fat.\n\nThe forest on the base of the mountain had been stripped almost entirely clean of wildlife and edible plants. Orcs were just like that. There were some bushes that you could eat, but they could make you sick if you don’t cook them right. There were some roots, too, but that was tedious, boring to dig them up, peel them, boil them. Blech. No, orcs loved meat, no matter where it came from. Bugs, lizards, elves, deer, bison, all were fair game. Even goblins would be eaten, if they could be caught, and goblins were basically just small orcs. So the forest was quiet as Diesel tromped down the hunting trail. Completely quiet. He walked up through ancient trees, the ones too big to be pushed over and cut up. He wandered past the old tree houses where there had at one point been a tasty elf camp. And further and further, up the hill, the smells of the breakfast down below fading with the sounds of the orcs chattering and talking. He could smell something else, now, a smoldering sulfurous smell, like brim fire.\n\nHe paused, stopping at a tree and grabbing his erection. It wasn’t quite erect at this point, the exercise of walking uphill and the boring thoughts of trees and moss and stones had softened it to a half hard state, still just as big, but thick, fleshy and rubbery in his grip. He unloaded some acrid orc brine against the tree, the bark of which seemed to crackle, falling off in chunks under the toxic fluid.\n\nHe waggled his cock a few times, letting it drop town, thudding over the front of his jerky bag. Scratched at his belly, and peered through the trees. There was a large, red... thing there, in a clearing that used to have a spring trickling through it. The spring was gone, apparently, or had been squashed under the red monstrosity. It had four sharp square beams for pillars, which connected over top with two more crossbeams. and underneath those beams hung some... strange red discs, each about a yard across. He walked up to the machine, curiously. The red beams had little notches in their sides, bizarre red runes, and a black window with green runes glowing on it. Diesel raised his spear, ready to stab whatever part moved first.\n\n -please- -move into processing area- -please-\n\nDiesel’s eyes widened at the scratching, soulless sound of the voice. Where had it come from? What did it mean? In the middle of the ... thing was a silver dais, with a ring of light blue around the outer perimeter, just glowing softly. Bizarre. He kept that spear raised, gleaming bicep clenched, other arm spread out. Ready to bolt or pounce or whatever, a powerful orc in the prime of his virility. He stepped into the contraption, between two of the red posts.\n\n-please- -step onto the central dais- -please-\n\nThat voice again! It was like it was buzzing in his head! Was it a ghost? A woodland spirit? Subharmonic acoustics targeted to the frequency of the parochial bone of orcs? MAGIC??? Diesel didn’t know, but he knew he felt like he should step on the disc.\n\nSo he did.\n\nHe stared down at it, waiting for it to glow, because that’s what these things did. It was obviously waiting for the One True Orc to step on it, so that it could imbue him with magical blessings. Every orc had heard of the God Discs when they were a child, and with a cacophony or realization, it hit him that he had found it. That was why the other two orcs hadn’t come back. They had found it too, and foolishly thought that -they- were the true orcs. And probably been turned into orc dust for their hubris.\n\nHe felt a tingling inside him, the orc smiling gloatingly as he realized that it was activated. Yes, he would rape Ichbod tonight, and then, probably, every other male in the camp. And then in the next camp. And the next one. No-one would be safe from his prowess, his virility, his- Hey!\n\nThe spear had disappeared from his grasp. He jerked up, and grabbed at it, but it was being pulled upwards, faster than his arm could grasp for it. Red ... snakes? had wrapped around and pulled it up with a yank! He crouched down, jumped for it, but it was like his feet had been cemented to the disk! He jumped to a standing position, and then abruptly came up short, cock and balls swinging up to slap against his belly. The fuck?\n\nHe felt something touch his back, sliding down the graceful curve of his spine, he twisted to swap it away, and saw more of those red snakes, sliding out of those notches in the beam. Not just one, or two, or three. Dozens. They slid smoothly out, with gleaming metallic rings, like boney spines that flexed and swirled and grabbed at him. He felt one wrap around one thick tree-trunk thigh, cold and slippery against his greasy skin. Another grabbed at his spearing arm, snaring it at the bicep, coiling and clenching and sliding up to just under the shoulder.\n\n“WAAAARGGGGGH!” Orc rage bubbled to the surface, and even though he could not pull his feet off of the transmogrifying pad, he threw himself back and forth, a powerful beast resisting the attack against him. One of them went for his face, and he saw that at the end of it was three metal ‘fingers’, each flexing and pinching at him. He leaned backwards, and that was when the one sliding down his back pried into his butt.\n\nNobody! touched Diesel’s ass, No orcs, no bugs, and certainly no red snakes! He pulled that ensnared arm down, grabbing at the red serpent, and the snake that grasped that arm pulled BACK, yanking it up and over his head. HE still clutched the serpent victoriously in his hand, though, and he wasn’t going to let go, not for nothing in the world. He grabbed his dagger from his belt, and slashed at the demonic serpent he grasped, even as another serpent curled around his other leg. The blade slid easily against the red metal flesh, but failed to sink between the overlapping scales. He slashed again, and again, first at the serpent he grasped, then at the one that held his arm. Then he felt the snake touch his dick!\n\nThat wasn’t as bad as touching his ass, but he was not interested in metal serpents doing that, either. He slashed down at it, the thing having grabbed the end of his dick. And pulled it straight out! He was in the middle of his downward slash, and almost couldn’t stop himself from chopping his own dick off! How embarrassing that would have been! Fortunately he was fast enough to drop the dagger, and the momentum flung it away from him, bouncing against the disk and then skittering into the grass beside him.\n\nRight beside a wild boar. It stared at him, impassively, well outside of the range of the beast tendrils, just watching him. Drool dangled from it’s lips. There was a rustling sound, and another one slowly made it’s way to stand next to the first. Which was bizarre, because boars hated each other, and would fight and territorialize any others they found. Especially another male boar! It was a worrying scene, and Diesel had the feeling they knew something he didn’t.\n\nMore of the red snakes came out, wrapping around his arms, his neck, his slender waist. They slithered against his gleaming powerful pecs, and the fingers on them began to find purchase. They pinched, twisted at his nipples, prying them almost off of his burly torso. He felt that one on his dick grasp it, almost professionally, as in, not accidentally, around the middle. It began to slide back and forth, working his foreskin against the flesh cap. For all the chaos and confusion, the orc grunted, stiffening as he was played with. Another one wrapped around his bag of meat, fingers snaring it around the neck.\n\n“Wrong bag, guys, that’s just my jerky,” he snorted, almost smirking. Maybe this was part of the ritual! Maybe the snakes were part of some divine... process to make him into the ultimate orc. Of course they would have to hold him down, to capture him in order to administer whatever holy tincture would be needed. The orc relaxed as his cock was played with, watching as the serpent wrapped around his bag of jerky began to play and pull and tug at it. He felt himself lifted up into the air, the disc below him going dark again, the orc now fully ensnared, willingly allow the machine to claim him.\n\nHis smile faded as the bag of jerky was savagely ripped away from his groin, though. Not cool. It was discarded, flung to the boars, which ignored it as well, staring at him with hungry eyes instead. That serpent came back, and this time coiled lazily around his low slung nuts.\n\nHis cock was rock hard (of course), the green beast not so sure about this as those scales clinked and curled and grasped and wrapped around his heavy stones. Tightening into a narrower and narrower circle, the broad bulges unable to both be contained. They bulged around the edges of the snake, before one slid slickly down into the bottom of his pouch. \n\nThen the other, as the loop tightened even more, and he groaned, cords aching as his nuts were so roughly handled. He glanced around the clearing, cheeks reddening as he realized he was leaking precum at the rough treatment. It was normal, he was sure, to leak like that, it wasn’t like he liked it or anything, it was just normal. It was new, is all, nobody had ever yanked his nuts like that, even though he had kind of hoped someone... would. So what if it made his big green dick all the harder as they were pulled and stretched and snared, the metal snake coiling around that long stretched nutsack to keep them firmly trussed away. His cock was huge now, harder than he had remembered seeing it in a long time, to the point that his foreskin was actually completely retracted. The fingers slid over the naked skin instead, then, sliding to the head and wrapping around the neck of it, just under the cap. Squeezing just a bit, and rapidly vibrating, twitching back and forth. \n\nIt was the most stimulating feeling the orc had ever felt, and he roared as it flooded his system. His swollen blue-balls ached as they tried to clench up, but were restrained. No matter, he was sure he would climax in a few seconds, to share his Godly essence with this god maker, to prove he was what it seeked. Yes, that was it, it was merely testing to proof that he was worthy of being made a god. Well, he was sure it would get it’s answer. Just a few more seconds of that tickling and he would give it a nice big mess.\n\nThen he got ass fucked. The snake must have sneaked up on him, this time, slithering up and pulling his belt away, first. He hadn’t even noticed it being stripped from him, but he had felt it’s return, as it pried it’s way stubbornly up between those tight muscular butt cheeks. Pop! It punched it’s way into that virginal hole, just like that, pushing itself in like it lived there.\n\nAny attempts at climaxing Diesel had made so far were pushed off the table when that happened, the orc’s eyes going as wide as they could at the sudden intrusion. His cock softened (a little bit) at the pain, the sudden realization that this thing, this god maker, was prying into his nether spots! Fear gripped his heart as he realized it may not be planning on making him a God after all, why would you need to probe his butt to do that?? He shouted for help, in pain, anything to scare the snakes off. And his tongue was grabbed, seized by the next red serpent. It plunged right into his tusked maw and grabbed that purplish tongue, tugging it out and stroking it just like his dick was being stroked.\n\n“Blaaagghghlbbrrrggghgl!”\n\n He tried to kick, but he was restrained, the snakes on his arms and legs twisting and bending them behind his back, spreading his legs like a girl orc’s would be. They were doing something else, something that burned and stung against his gleaming orc skin. He was distracted by the feeling of that thing in his ass swelling, prying, fingers digging deep inside him to search for something. GAAAGGGGH! It found it! The orc convulsed, nipples rock hard as his joy button was teased against, shame flooding his cheeks as he felt the thing inside him use his body for it’s own purposes. No! He was a proud orc warrior! The proudest! The most warrioresque! He would escape this menace!\n\nAnd then his skin came off. The things on his arms and legs had been burning through the skin, digging and cutting and slicing, and suddenly with a soft quick yank, the skin was inverted, pulled over the bulging muscles underneath like old pillow cases. The orc screamed as the naked nerves were bared, staring aghast as the long green skeins of orc skin were pulled cleanly free from his limbs. They were pulled up and away from him.\n\nThe thing on his dick started stroking again, and he felt himself getting hard under the caresses, even as he watched his proud limbs mutilated. The muscles flexed, as more of the snakes came back to them, and even as he watched, tiny little scissors, blades and saws popped out of those fingers, going to work. Dismantling his arms, his legs, one piece at a time.\n\nThey didn’t disconnect the nerves, first. They did clip the veins, though. So even while they were still attached, they starved for oxygen. The feeling of pins and needles started in his fingers and toes, spreading up his wrists, his limbs, towards his body. Soon he was in a riotous orgy of pain as those muscles tried to siphon blood that wasn’t’ there. Soon they too were clipped, the orc watching his limbs butchered piece by piece away. They were lifted up, some pieces left to dangle beside the skin, others cast to the ground. These pieces the boars, which numbered ten or so, enjoyed, bullying each other about for a strip of orc muscle or fat.\n\nSoon there were just bones and tendons left, which were themselves plucked and twisted free, cast to the boars. The orc sobbed, massive hard-on still twitching, still leaking. As much pain as he had just gone through, physically and mentally at watching his proud body broken down, he had been more upset at the teasing that the machine was giving him. Every time his dick would get close to blowing, that thing in his ass would jam itself a little deeper, would clench or twist or whatever it was doing inside him. It was an infuriating cycle of getting him close and then punishing him, and the orc hated it. He was used to getting off, when he wanted to, on who he wanted to, and that control was stripped from him now. His own erection teasing him with his inability to do anything with it.\n\nThen they went to work on his torso. This they did not completely dismantle, no. Skin was stripped, muscles tugged away, and his ribcage was plucked apart, yes. Some organs were removed, others shifted or tucked or docked. His throat was opened, his vocal cords removed, for example. There were hundreds of the snakes now, every part of his body either gripped or being worked on by them, a dozen surgeries all happening at the same time. He felt his dick slowly cut off, first the skin stripped, and then the thick glans, and it’s network of nerves, stripped free. A thick log of spongy tissue was flung out to the boars, then, and he saw them fight over who would gulp it down.\n\nThen something was stuffed into his mouth. His tongue had been removed already, and the thing was sutured in where his mouth had used to be, nerves reattached. He could feel things being reattached all over him, in fact, muscle and nerves and tendons that had been stripped away being reattached, sewn into new places.\n\nYes, Diesel was still made up of all the same orc parts as he had been, but they were being put to, as some would say, much better use. It took most of the day for the process to complete, but as the sun began to set, the snakes began to retract, one by one, back into their notches and holes. There was ... something... still sitting there, on the disc, the last adjustments being made.\n\n\t-\t-\t-\t-\t-\t-\t-\t-\t-\t-\t-\t-\n\nWhich is when the tour group showed up. There was a tiger in the lead, (of course), wearing a scientific white smock and trail-hiking boots. The motley crew that tagged along behind were a bit more wary than the scientist, who tromped his way directly up to the machine. There was a red skinned orc, which wasn’t that unusual in these parts. The red skins only lived on the other side of the mountain, after all. A sleek fox in a chef’s uniform, who studied the ... thing... that remained with intense scrutiny. A hybrid of some sort, who looked simultaneously like a lion, and a wolf, with a thick mane and bushy tail, and another hybrid, who similarly looked like a gray furry dragon. Bringing up the back of the group was a fuzzy little Serval, who seemed as interested in the plants around the machine as the results it made. The boars backed away from the group, but did not leave the clearing, more just giving the voyeurs their space.\n\n“That was amazing,” started the lionwolf. “And you’re saying that it programs itself on what to do with each, ah, test subject?”\n\n“Well, the programming is self adjusted for each subject, but the end result is basically the same.” The tiger gestured to the dark green... ball... that heaved slowly on the disc. “This machine, for example, is specifically designed to help with the breeding program of the wild boars in this region.”\n\n“But it could be augmented for other uses?” inquired the fox in the chef’s uniform. “Like for packing and refrigeration...”\n\n“Of course it can. Keep one of these in your meat locker and you’ll never have to ship pre-cut meat in again. This particular model was demonstrating the Humpables program, which you have all heard much about in New York. It’s extremely profitable and poplar, especially in some of the more risque nightclubs.”\n\n“Is it still... alive?” asked the serval with the fluffy fox tail. “I mean, does it know we are here?”\n\n“Of course it is.” The tiger tapped on the console, the machine humming softly and then going dormant. He moved to the ... ball, and gestured to the top of it. “There are breathing and nourishment portals situated here and there all over the ball. There is still a fully functional brain inside, though muscle control has been reduced, ah, shall we say, rhythmic contractions.”\n\nThe others laughed at the euphemism, and with a slow grunt, the tiger rolled the heavy, muscular ball off of the dais A trace of a dark patch of fuzz could be seen on the quilt-like stitching of orc skin, as the ball rolled down the little incline and towards the boars. This was what they had REALLY been waiting for, and the first of them immediately jumped up, covering the fleshy ball. It’s long, dirty porcine cock stabbed into one of the fifteen ‘portals’ the machine had left the ball, and it began slapping it’s fat nuts against the smooth, greasy green skin, humping against the ball with wild abandon. Another of the boars jumped up on the other side, sinking into another of the portals.\n\n“As you can see, the humpables program, while having a tremendous effect in the urban cities, has positive effects on natural populations as well. These boars, rather than falling to their basic instincts of fighting with each other, now have a ‘toy’ to share, and are getting along. Instead of fighting each other, they are taking turns with this humpable, which means that the females have more chances of properly mating with the more relaxed males.\n\nThe red orc grunted and pulled his hand away from his erection. “And you are sure that it will only do... this thing... to green orcs? Not red?”\n\n“Of course. The program does a DNA scan before anything else, and green and red orcs are completely different genomes.” The tiger was lying of course, but it seemed to settle the red orc down. “You guys have an endangered tiger species on your side of the mountain, if I remember correctly,” he cheerfully added, “but tigers haven’t been nearly as receptive to humpables as boars are.”\n\nThe six aristocrats watched as the first boar finished, flooding the channel with sticky boar jizz, and then dismounted, being replaced with another.\n\n“So, I mean, how does it survive?” asked the lion-wolf.\n\n“Oh, well, all the portals are like throats. They lead down to the lungs and stomach, receptively.” They heard the soft slurping sounds as the one portal sucked dry of itself, the tiger grimacing. “Unfortunately there’s no way for it to clean itself off, so you have to make sure to roll it around in a puddle once in a while.”\n\nThe foxish dragon was climbing around on the dais One of the red snakes had not fully retracted, and he was pulling it against himself, as if pretending it was attacking him. The tiger rolled his eyes.\n\n“Now you may be wondering if the Humpable gets any pleasure out of this. AS a matter of fact, it does. It takes a while, but all of those portals have strips of his former dick in it, as well as bits and pieces of his prostate. If he gets humped long enough, he’ll eventually, oh. Well, there you go.”\n\nAs they watched, cream bubbled out of the top of the ball, drooling thick and puddling like down the side of the flesh ball. One of the boars lapped it up.\n\n“So as you can see, it’s win win.” The tiger coughed, at the dragon, who seemed completely lost in his own world. After a moment, he pressed a button on the console, and typed in a few keys.\n\n“Now, if you’d like, I have to other models back at the lab, if you’d like a less.. base... environment in which to examine them,” he continued, and the five of them wandered away.\n\nFoxie gasped as the red snake wiggled against his arm. Oh! It almost felt like it was turned on. He glanced as the others left, leaving him alone to ‘investigate’ the machine. Well, he would catch up with them, he was sure the boars would leave him alone.... unbeknownst to him, though, those little hatches were opening up all over the machine.\n\nAs for Diesel, well, Diesel had a lot to think about. There were things the tiger hadn’t told the others about what had happened to him. Like that the pressure of the boars on top of him was all directed, though fluid vacuoles and the like, directly onto the core nerve center of what used to be his balls and penis. Or that he could Taste the dirty bestial boar’s dicks as they humped his holes. Or that he could Hear them laughing at him as he was debased! Diesel was a mad orc. He wasn’t sure what exactly had happened to him, except that he felt like he had just popped his cap, and that it felt like he was being raped, over and over and over again. But he knew he’d find his way out of this ball thingies, whatever he was in, and he would get his vengeance! Ooooh, that one had a THICK dick... maybe after they boars were done, he would get his vengeance! Oh and he knew how to use it.\n\nOkay, after he made sure the boars were all tended to, then he’d have his vengeance.\n\nMaybe.\n\nDistantly, he heard buzzing whirring mechanical sounds, and muted squeaks.\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "“So Humpable”

FUNdraising Commission for Zyxxs

By Charn

Diesel was a big orc. A Proud orc. Some said that sun shone differently on him. That it was afraid of him, and that is why his smooth, gleaming glossy skin was a rich, darker olive green than the other orcs in his tribe. Some said that he held the Seed of the Infinite inside him, and that was why his orbs were so large, and hung so low, weighted down with the burden of the essence of Godliness. His muscles bulked and strained every time he went hunting, and every time he went hunting, he brought back a mastodon, or a pack of gazelle, or a family of lions, all carried or dragged back with his powerful muscles. Yes, Diesel was like a god among his brethren. Worshiped by the females, who tore at their breasts at his apparent disdain for their kin.

Yes, Diesel was a manly orc, an orc who took his pleasure with other orcs. Any warrior who seemed half as worthy as him would find himself dragged out of the drinking cave, usually by his ears, and thrown face down in the mud. He’d think it was an old tree trunk that had bumped against his ass, at first, but no, it was Diesel’s big green fuckstick, slamming and grinding it’s way into that poor orc’s butt, stretching and ripping him open as the massive brute took his pleasures out on those he deemed ‘fitting’ enough to handle him. In time, even that became an almost religious rites, for only the most proudest of warriors would be raped by the big dark green orc. And soon enough, not only the girl orcs, but the man orcs, too, were clamoring for his attention.

And then, one day, all of that changed...

 \tThe morning started like any other. The bugs hummed their incessant droning songs, the great fire in the sky shone down, warming skin and stone alike, and Diesel woke up with morning wood. One arm was flung out behind his head, the other on his chest. He rubbed lazily at the patch of black, curly hair that formed a triangle, pointing down, on his chest. His finger tips slid lazily down, through the meandering trail that the fuzz made, over his thick pectorals and down along his cobbled abs. He yawns a great, tusky yawn, tongue slapping up against the roof of his mouth, and then felt that erection against his knuckles. He grabbed it, the orcs stubby fingers -almost- wrapping around that big, thick orc trunk. Gave the loose skin on it a lazy stroke, pulling up, then pushing down.

The thick, soft foreskin that protected his cap snapped over the head, then peeling back, pulled taut against his erection again. He pulled up, again, and then back down, lazily enjoying the feel of the skin rubbing against his shaft. Idly he thought about the new generation of warriors... Ichbod was getting to be old enough to learn his place in the tribe.

He felt that erection stiffen, his fat, saggy orc balls churning against the warm dirt beneath him, hanging down and nestled between his thighs like two ripe melons. Yeah, it had been a week or two, it was time to show some new kid what it meant... to be a warrior.

Diesel let go of that erection, which wobbled in the air, angrily. ‘Hey, don’t forget about me’, it demanded, but Diesel ignored it. He climbed out of his hut, into the brisk morning air, cock jutting proudly. Down below, the other orcs had already slaughtered and were fire roasting breakfast. He wasn’t sure what it used to be, but it had been big and apparently four legged, the various sections of it’s body twisting slowly on an old wooden pike over the camp fire.

“Diesel! Bad news,” said one of the orcs, a light green, fat bellied elder, hobbling over hurriedly with his big wooden walking stick.

Diesel sneered at the old orc, making sure to reach down and fondle his melons as he deigned to listen to him. “Yah, chief? What is wrong now?”

The chief tried to ignore the open fondling, but his own brown lion-skin toga slowly starting to tent. “Hunting party did not come back last night, or this morning. Up in the north, where the gray smoke comes. You need to find out what happened to them.”

“Gelg and Galig?” Diesel snorted. “They probably fell into their own deer pit. I will go up there, and if I find them, I will finish them myself.” He glanced around, then leaned in. “Oh, chief.”

Chief folded his arms over his chest, the hint of a withered erection peeking slowly out over the top of his toga. “Yuh what.”

“Ichbod is your grandson, yah? Better make sure he eat lots of sweetmeat today, he gets his rite tonight.”

Chief blanched at the thought. “But he’s not even of age to be a warrior, you can’t-”

“I make decision, not you, old man!” Diesel pushed at the tribal chieftain’s chest, then turned, without letting him counter, and stalked back into his hut. Well, it was actually the chieftain’s hut, but if you threaten someone with enough anal rape they’ll ‘give’ you anything. He grabbed his spear, his tusk dagger, and the green amulet of protection he always wore for hunting. Or went to grab it, but it was gone. Hmm. Diesel fished around for it, but it was gone. Had he left it somewhere? Perhaps in the drinking cave?

Hmm. No, he was sure he had worn it last night, to bed in fact, but it was gone, now. He briefly considered stabbing some orcs until someone told him where it was, but then again, he didn’t need it. He had a spear, he had a dagger, and he had his Mace, that thick green trunk that never seemed to soften, the most impressive weapon of the three. He would be fine.

He had only one thing left to do, and that was the most time consuming of them all. He found the sheep stomach full of rendered raccoon fat, and squeezing a thick blob of it into his hand, he pushed it against his chest. Slowly he smeared the cold, greasy lard against his pectorals, using both hands to grind and smear and smooth it down over his torso. Down over his six pack, his high, tight muscle butt, down either thighs.

He greased up his hanging melons, gritting his teeth as he squeezed and rubbed them. Yes, they were sensitive today, he would definitely be rutting that teenager tonight. Then over his smooth bald head, his cheeks, his ears. What? It protected from bug bites. And it moisturized.  Diesel liked to look his best.

Diesel pulled on a simple leather belt, sheathing a skein of water on his left hip, his dagger on his right hip, and a pouch stuffed with jerky chunks to the front. It hung down on it’s leather thongs, so that it jostled for space with his equally bulky, hanging balls, and his getup was complete. He stepped out into the sunshine, spear in hand, the coon fat gleaming and glistening, making him almost sparkle in the sunshine. He paused, dramatically, waiting for the oohs and grunts of approval from the other orcs. And waited. And waited. Finally he peered down, but all of the orcs were busy feasting on their breakfast.

“Okay, Diesel go. Now!” he proclaimed. Some of them looked up, and he saw a hand or two wave buhbye, but none of the usual dances of joy at seeing his handsome body. He would have to get a different kind of fat.

The forest on the base of the mountain had been stripped almost entirely clean of wildlife and edible plants. Orcs were just like that. There were some bushes that you could eat, but they could  make you sick if you don’t cook them right. There were some roots, too, but that was tedious, boring to dig them up, peel them, boil them. Blech. No, orcs loved meat, no matter where it came from. Bugs, lizards, elves, deer, bison, all were fair game. Even goblins would be eaten, if they could be caught, and goblins were basically just small orcs. So the forest was quiet as Diesel tromped down the hunting trail. Completely quiet. He walked up through ancient trees, the ones too big to be pushed over and cut up. He wandered past the old tree houses where there had at one point been a tasty elf camp. And further and further, up the hill, the smells of the breakfast down below fading with the sounds of the orcs chattering and talking. He could smell something else, now, a smoldering sulfurous smell, like brim fire.

He paused, stopping at a tree and grabbing his erection. It wasn’t quite erect at this point, the exercise of walking uphill and the boring thoughts of trees and moss and stones had softened it to a half hard state, still just as big, but thick, fleshy and rubbery in his grip. He unloaded some acrid orc brine against the tree, the bark of which seemed to crackle, falling off in chunks under the toxic fluid.

He waggled his cock a few times, letting it drop town, thudding over the front of his jerky bag. Scratched at his belly, and peered through the trees. There was a large, red... thing there, in a clearing that used to have a spring trickling through it. The spring was gone, apparently, or had been squashed under the red monstrosity. It had four sharp square beams for pillars, which connected over top with two more crossbeams. and underneath those beams hung some... strange red discs, each about a yard across. He walked up to the machine, curiously. The red beams had little notches in their sides, bizarre red runes, and a black window with green runes glowing on it. Diesel raised his spear, ready to stab whatever part moved first.

 -please- -move into processing area- -please-

Diesel’s eyes widened at the scratching, soulless sound of the voice. Where had it come from? What did it mean? In the middle of the ... thing was a silver dais, with a ring of light blue around the outer perimeter, just glowing softly. Bizarre. He kept that spear raised, gleaming bicep clenched, other arm spread out. Ready to bolt or pounce or whatever, a powerful orc in the prime of his virility. He stepped into the contraption, between two of the red posts.

-please- -step onto the central dais- -please-

That voice again! It was like it was buzzing in his head! Was it a ghost? A woodland spirit? Subharmonic acoustics targeted to the frequency of the parochial bone of orcs? MAGIC??? Diesel didn’t know, but he knew he felt like he should step on the disc.

So he did.

He stared down at it, waiting for it to glow, because that’s what these things did. It was obviously waiting for the One True Orc to step on it, so that it could imbue him with magical blessings. Every orc had heard of the God Discs when they were a child, and with a cacophony or realization, it hit him that he had found it. That was why the other two orcs hadn’t come back. They had found it too, and foolishly thought that -they- were the true orcs. And probably been turned into orc dust for their hubris.

He felt a tingling inside him, the orc smiling gloatingly as he realized that it was activated. Yes, he would rape Ichbod tonight, and then, probably, every other male in the camp. And then in the next camp. And the next one. No-one would be safe from his prowess, his virility, his- Hey!

The spear had disappeared from his grasp. He jerked up, and grabbed at it, but it was being pulled upwards, faster than his arm could grasp for it. Red ... snakes? had wrapped around and pulled it up with a yank! He crouched down, jumped for it, but it was like his feet had been cemented to the disk! He jumped to a standing position, and then abruptly came up short, cock and balls swinging up to slap against his belly. The fuck?

He felt something touch his back, sliding down the graceful curve of his spine, he twisted to swap it away, and saw more of those red snakes, sliding out of those notches in the beam. Not just one, or two, or three. Dozens. They slid smoothly out, with gleaming metallic rings, like boney spines that flexed and swirled and grabbed at him. He felt one wrap around one thick tree-trunk thigh, cold and slippery against his greasy skin. Another grabbed at his spearing arm, snaring it at the bicep, coiling and clenching and sliding up to just under the shoulder.

“WAAAARGGGGGH!” Orc rage bubbled to the surface, and even though he could not pull his feet off of the transmogrifying pad, he threw himself back and forth, a powerful beast resisting the attack against him. One of them went for his face, and he saw that at the end of it was three metal ‘fingers’, each flexing and pinching at him. He leaned backwards, and that was when the one sliding down his back pried into his butt.

Nobody! touched Diesel’s ass, No orcs, no bugs, and certainly no red snakes! He pulled that ensnared arm down, grabbing at the red serpent, and the snake that grasped that arm pulled BACK, yanking it up and over his head. HE still clutched the serpent victoriously in his hand, though, and he wasn’t going to let go, not for nothing in the world. He grabbed his dagger from his belt, and slashed at the demonic serpent he grasped, even as another serpent curled around his other leg. The blade slid easily against the red metal flesh, but failed to sink between the overlapping scales. He slashed again, and again, first at the serpent he grasped, then at the one that held his arm. Then he felt the snake touch his dick!

That wasn’t as bad as touching his ass, but he was not interested in metal serpents doing that, either. He slashed down at it, the thing having grabbed the end of his dick. And pulled it straight out! He was in the middle of his downward slash, and almost couldn’t stop himself from chopping his own dick off! How embarrassing that would have been! Fortunately he was fast enough to drop the dagger, and the momentum flung it away from him, bouncing against the disk and then skittering into the grass beside him.

Right beside a wild boar. It stared at him, impassively, well outside of the range of the beast tendrils, just watching him. Drool dangled from it’s lips. There was a rustling sound, and another one slowly made it’s way to stand next to the first. Which was bizarre, because boars hated each other, and would fight and territorialize any others they found. Especially another male boar! It was a worrying scene, and Diesel had the feeling they knew something he didn’t.

More of the red snakes came out, wrapping around his arms, his neck, his slender waist. They slithered against his gleaming powerful pecs, and the fingers on them began to find purchase. They pinched, twisted at his nipples, prying them almost off of his burly torso. He felt that one on his dick grasp it, almost professionally, as in, not accidentally, around the middle. It began to slide back and forth, working his foreskin against the flesh cap. For all the chaos and confusion, the orc grunted, stiffening as he was played with. Another one wrapped around his bag of meat, fingers snaring it around the neck.

“Wrong bag, guys, that’s just my jerky,” he snorted, almost smirking. Maybe this was part of the ritual! Maybe the snakes were part of some divine... process to make him into the ultimate orc. Of course they would have to hold him down, to capture him in order to administer whatever holy tincture would be needed. The orc relaxed as his cock was played with, watching as the serpent wrapped around his bag of jerky began to play and pull and tug at it. He felt himself lifted up into the air, the disc below him going dark again, the orc now fully ensnared, willingly allow the machine to claim him.

His smile faded as the bag of jerky was savagely ripped away from his groin, though. Not cool. It was discarded, flung to the boars, which ignored it as well, staring at him with hungry eyes instead. That serpent came back, and this time coiled lazily around his low slung nuts.

His cock was rock hard (of course), the green beast not so sure about this as those scales clinked and curled and grasped and wrapped around his heavy stones. Tightening into a narrower and narrower circle, the broad bulges unable to both be contained. They bulged around the edges of the snake, before one slid slickly down into the bottom of his pouch.

Then the other, as the loop tightened even more, and he groaned, cords aching as his nuts were so roughly handled. He glanced around the clearing, cheeks reddening as he realized he was leaking precum at the rough treatment. It was normal, he was sure, to leak like that, it wasn’t like he liked it or anything, it was just normal. It was new, is all, nobody had ever yanked his nuts like that, even though he had kind of hoped someone... would. So what if it made his big green dick all the harder as they were pulled and stretched and snared, the metal snake coiling around that long stretched nutsack to keep them firmly trussed away. His cock was huge now, harder than he had remembered seeing it in a long time, to the point that his foreskin was actually completely retracted. The fingers slid over the naked skin instead, then, sliding to the head and wrapping around the neck of it, just under the cap. Squeezing just a bit, and rapidly vibrating, twitching back and forth.

It was the most stimulating feeling the orc had ever felt, and he roared as it flooded his system. His swollen blue-balls ached as they tried to clench up, but were restrained. No matter, he was sure he would climax in a few seconds, to share his Godly essence with this god maker, to prove he was what it seeked. Yes, that was it, it was merely testing to proof that he was worthy of being made a god. Well, he was sure it would get it’s answer. Just a few more seconds of that tickling and he would give it a nice big mess.

Then he got ass fucked. The snake must have sneaked up on him, this time, slithering up and pulling his belt away, first. He hadn’t even noticed it being stripped from him, but he had felt it’s return, as it pried it’s way stubbornly up between those tight muscular butt cheeks. Pop! It punched it’s way into that virginal hole, just like that, pushing itself in like it lived there.

Any attempts at climaxing Diesel had made so far were pushed off the table when that happened, the orc’s eyes going as wide as they could at the sudden intrusion. His cock softened (a little bit) at the pain, the sudden realization that this thing, this god maker, was prying into his nether spots! Fear gripped his heart as he realized it may not be planning on making him a God after all, why would you need to probe his butt to do that?? He shouted for help, in pain, anything to scare the snakes off. And his tongue was grabbed, seized by the next red serpent. It plunged right into his tusked maw and grabbed that purplish tongue, tugging it out and stroking it just like his dick was being stroked.

“Blaaagghghlbbrrrggghgl!”

 He tried to kick, but he was restrained, the snakes on his arms and legs twisting and bending them behind his back, spreading his legs like a girl orc’s would be. They were doing something else, something that burned and stung against his gleaming orc skin. He was distracted by the feeling of that thing in his ass swelling, prying, fingers digging deep inside him to search for something. GAAAGGGGH! It found it! The orc convulsed, nipples rock hard as his joy button was teased against, shame flooding his cheeks as he felt the thing inside him use his body for it’s own purposes. No! He was a proud orc warrior! The proudest! The most warrioresque! He would escape this menace!

And then his skin came off. The things on his arms and legs had been burning through the skin, digging and cutting and slicing, and suddenly with a soft quick yank, the skin was inverted, pulled over the bulging muscles underneath like old pillow cases. The orc screamed as the naked nerves were bared, staring aghast as the long green skeins of orc skin were pulled cleanly free from his limbs. They were pulled up and away from him.

The thing on his dick started stroking again, and he felt himself getting hard under the caresses, even as he watched his proud limbs mutilated. The muscles flexed, as more of the snakes came back to them, and even as he watched, tiny little scissors, blades and saws popped out of those fingers, going to work. Dismantling his arms, his legs, one piece at a time.

They didn’t disconnect the nerves, first. They did clip the veins, though. So even while they were still attached, they starved for oxygen. The feeling of pins and needles started in his fingers and toes, spreading up his wrists, his limbs, towards his body. Soon he was in a riotous orgy of pain as those muscles tried to siphon blood that wasn’t’ there. Soon they too were clipped, the orc watching his limbs butchered piece by piece away. They were lifted up, some pieces left to dangle beside the skin, others cast to the ground. These pieces the boars, which numbered ten or so, enjoyed, bullying each other about for a strip of orc muscle or fat.

Soon there were just bones and tendons left, which were themselves plucked and twisted free, cast to the boars. The orc sobbed, massive hard-on still twitching, still leaking. As much pain as he had just gone through, physically and mentally at watching his proud body broken down, he had been more upset at the teasing that the machine was giving him. Every time his dick would get close to blowing, that thing in his ass would jam itself a little deeper, would clench or twist or whatever it was doing inside him. It was an infuriating cycle of getting him close and then punishing him, and the orc hated it. He was used to getting off, when he wanted to, on who he wanted to, and that control was stripped from him now. His own erection teasing him with his inability to do anything with it.

Then they went to work on his torso. This they did not completely dismantle, no. Skin was stripped, muscles tugged away, and his ribcage was plucked apart, yes. Some organs were removed, others shifted or tucked or docked. His throat was opened, his vocal cords removed, for example. There were hundreds of the snakes now, every part of his body either gripped or being worked on by them, a dozen surgeries all happening at the same time. He felt his dick slowly cut off, first the skin stripped, and then the thick glans, and it’s network of nerves, stripped free. A thick log of spongy tissue was flung out to the boars, then, and he saw them fight over who would gulp it down.

Then something was stuffed into his mouth. His tongue had been removed already, and the thing was sutured in where his mouth had used to be, nerves reattached. He could feel things being reattached all over him, in fact, muscle and nerves and tendons that had been stripped away being reattached, sewn into new places.

Yes, Diesel was still made up of all the same orc parts as he had been, but they were being put to, as some would say, much better use. It took most of the day for the process to complete, but as the sun began to set, the snakes began to retract, one by one, back into their notches and holes. There was ... something... still sitting there, on the disc, the last adjustments being made.

\t-\t-\t-\t-\t-\t-\t-\t-\t-\t-\t-\t-

Which is when the tour group showed up. There was a tiger in the lead, (of course), wearing a scientific white smock and trail-hiking boots. The motley crew that tagged along behind were a bit more wary than the scientist, who tromped his way directly up to the machine. There was a red skinned orc, which wasn’t that unusual in these parts. The red skins only lived on the other side of the mountain, after all. A sleek fox in a chef’s uniform, who studied the ... thing... that remained with intense scrutiny.  A hybrid of some sort, who looked simultaneously like a lion, and a wolf, with a thick mane and bushy tail, and another hybrid, who similarly looked like a gray furry dragon. Bringing up the back of the group was a fuzzy little Serval, who seemed as interested in the plants around the machine as the results it made. The boars backed away from the group, but did not leave the clearing, more just giving the voyeurs their space.

“That was amazing,” started the lionwolf. “And you’re saying that it programs itself on what to do with each, ah, test subject?”

“Well, the programming is self adjusted for each subject, but the end result is basically the same.” The tiger gestured to the dark green... ball... that heaved slowly on the disc. “This machine, for example, is specifically designed to help with the breeding program of the wild boars in this region.”

“But it could be augmented for other uses?” inquired the fox in the chef’s uniform. “Like for packing and refrigeration...”

“Of course it can. Keep one of these in your meat locker and you’ll never have to ship pre-cut meat in again. This particular model was demonstrating the Humpables program, which you have all heard much about in New York. It’s extremely profitable and poplar, especially in some of the more risque nightclubs.”

“Is it still... alive?” asked the serval with the fluffy fox tail. “I mean, does it know we are here?”

“Of course it is.” The tiger tapped on the console, the machine humming softly and then going dormant. He moved to the ... ball, and gestured to the top of it. “There are breathing and nourishment portals situated here and there all over the ball. There is still a fully functional brain inside, though muscle control has been reduced, ah, shall we say, rhythmic contractions.”

The others laughed at the euphemism, and with a slow grunt, the tiger rolled the heavy, muscular ball off of the dais A trace of a dark patch of fuzz could be seen on the quilt-like stitching of orc skin, as the ball rolled down the little incline and towards the boars. This was what they had REALLY been waiting for, and the first of them immediately jumped up, covering the fleshy ball. It’s long, dirty porcine cock stabbed into one of the fifteen ‘portals’ the machine had left the ball, and it began slapping it’s fat nuts against the smooth, greasy green skin, humping against the ball with wild abandon. Another of the boars jumped up on the other side, sinking into another of the portals.

“As you can see, the humpables program, while having a tremendous effect in the urban cities, has positive effects on natural populations as well. These boars, rather than falling to their basic instincts of fighting with each other, now have a ‘toy’ to share, and are getting along. Instead of fighting each other, they are taking turns with this humpable, which means that the females have more chances of properly mating with the more relaxed males.

The red orc grunted and pulled his hand away from his erection. “And you are sure that it will only do... this thing... to green orcs? Not red?”

“Of course. The program does a DNA scan before anything else, and green and red orcs are completely different genomes.” The tiger was lying of course, but it seemed to settle the red orc down. “You guys have an endangered tiger species on your side of the mountain, if I remember correctly,” he cheerfully added, “but tigers haven’t been nearly as receptive to humpables as boars are.”

The six aristocrats watched as the first boar finished, flooding the channel with sticky boar jizz, and then dismounted, being replaced with another.

“So, I mean, how does it survive?” asked the lion-wolf.

“Oh, well, all the portals are like throats. They lead down to the lungs and stomach, receptively.” They heard the soft slurping sounds as the one portal sucked dry of itself, the tiger grimacing. “Unfortunately there’s no way for it to clean itself off, so you have to make sure to roll it around in a puddle once in a while.”

The foxish dragon was climbing around on the dais One of the red snakes had not fully retracted, and he was pulling it against himself, as if pretending it was attacking him. The tiger rolled his eyes.

“Now you may be wondering if the Humpable gets any pleasure out of this. AS a matter of fact, it does. It takes a while, but all of those portals have strips of his former dick in it, as well as bits and pieces of his prostate. If he gets humped long enough, he’ll eventually, oh. Well, there you go.”

As they watched, cream bubbled out of the top of the ball, drooling thick and puddling like down the side of the flesh ball. One of the boars lapped it up.

“So as you can see, it’s win win.” The tiger coughed, at the dragon, who seemed completely lost in his own world. After a moment, he pressed a button on the console, and typed in a few keys.

“Now, if you’d like, I have to other models back at the lab, if you’d like a less.. base... environment in which to examine them,” he continued, and the five of them wandered away.

Foxie gasped as the red snake wiggled against his arm. Oh! It almost felt like it was turned on. He glanced as the others left, leaving him alone to ‘investigate’ the machine. Well, he would catch up with them, he was sure the boars would leave him alone.... unbeknownst to him, though, those little hatches were opening up all over the machine.

As for Diesel, well, Diesel had a lot to think about. There were things the tiger hadn’t told the others about what had happened to him. Like that the pressure of the boars on top of him was all directed, though fluid vacuoles and the like, directly onto the core nerve center of what used to be his balls and penis. Or that he could Taste the dirty bestial boar’s dicks as they humped his holes. Or that he could Hear them laughing at him as he was debased! Diesel was a mad orc. He wasn’t sure what exactly had happened to him, except that he felt like he had just popped his cap, and that it felt like he was being raped, over and over and over again. But he knew he’d find his way out of this ball thingies, whatever he was in, and he would get his vengeance! Ooooh, that one had a THICK dick... maybe after they boars were done, he would get his vengeance! Oh and he knew how to use it.

Okay, after he made sure the boars were all tended to, then he’d have his vengeance.

Maybe.

Distantly, he heard buzzing whirring mechanical sounds, and muted squeaks.

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