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And a green little moogle. And tentacles. And castration. :3\n\nIt was a lot of fun to write, and I appreciate Hanare's patience for it.\n\nThis story had a lot of different elements, and I'm not sure if I tackled the musk, tentacle, and transformation aspects correctly. Feel free to comment on what you think would have helped make the story better. :)", "description_bbcode_parsed": "So, I can't think of a summary better than the keywords. :) Needless to say, this is a story about a hunter and they're prey, and a large, foam spewing bar that turns into a mindless sex party. And a green little moogle. And tentacles. And castration. :3

It was a lot of fun to write, and I appreciate Hanare's patience for it.

This story had a lot of different elements, and I'm not sure if I tackled the musk, tentacle, and transformation aspects correctly. Feel free to comment on what you think would have helped make the story better. :)", "writing": "Strange Tastes\n\nWritten by Charn, 2011\n\nAll characters copyright their original owners\n\nThe bar was pretty typical, for a Friday night in the middle of the month. Which suited this green skinned Moogle just fine. The usual crew were there, and he felt more than one playful tap against his sensitive danglepoofs as he sauntered his way past the bar. The dance floor was busy, but not crowded, and Hanare took the last stool in line to peer into the mass of casually writhing bodies, searching for that special -someone-. He knew they were here, he could feel it, a tingling tickle just under his skin.\n\nIt wasn’t that he was stalking someone. Well he was. He had followed them in here, using the delicate sensors in those puffballs that were even now gently twitching and searching out the air in front of him. He just didn’t know who it was, yet.\n\nWas that him? A stag, head down slightly, antlers weaving, painted with some sort of fluorescent orange, green, and blue paints making them glow brightly int he black light. Hanare took his regular drink from the bar beside him - just some seltzer water with a sprig of cilantro in it - and sipped at it, enjoying the fizz against his tongue. No, it wasn’t the stag. For all his broad height, the stag was.. more doe then stag where it mattered.\n\nWhat about the bulldog, then? He may be a bit older, a bit heavy-gutted, maybe a bit clumsy, but... oh. Shame. He had the equipment, but he also had the traditional stance of an off-duty police officer, and a police officer was -not- the kind of attention Hanare was looking for tonight.\t \n\nThat bear might work. Hanare reached for his glass, to find it missing. He frowned, turning to find it on the bar top - and instead finding a grinning lion.\n\n“Hey there.” said the feline. He was tall, as tall as the stag, though not as broad. Still, he was thickly furred, a sheen of musk, of oily fur that could come from those with overactive hormones, and Hanare smiled back. His antennas twitched, a slow, enticing blast of enzymes pouring down their stalks and into the Moogle’s brain directly. The effect it had on him was automatic, instinctual, and more enticing then any drug could be. He felt his mouth grow warmer, his eyes sharpening into heightened color clarity, and he felt things, things inside the parts of him that others could see, shifting, flexing, waking up.\n\n\t“Hey there,” he smiled back. “You must be the dude I could smell all the way out in the parking lot.”\n\n \tThe lion chuckled, licking up over his lips, looking the Moogle over. Hanare had to struggle, as the sweet, sour, earthy scent of the lion’s base musk inflamed his senses. His body was ready to pounce, ready to claim, and Hanare mentally scolded himself for waiting so long to do this. Still, though, he remained poised, casual, confident.\n\n“May have been me, may have been my boyfriend. You seen him? Smell him?” The lion held out a hand, and the moogle looked at it curiously, then back to the lion. “Go on, take a sniff. That’s him.”\n\n \t\n\nCautiously, Hanare leaned forward, and presses his cute little nose against the crackly fur that sprouted up between the tough skin pads on the lion’s palm. Oh. Oh, that was an intensely ovine smell, the smell of a male’s penis, of his sperm, or at least pre-cum, just laying on the lion’s hand, as if-\n\nThe lion seemed to enjoy the way the smaller male jolted on the bar-stool. “Yeah, that’s the normal reaction. His name’s Buford.” The lion grinned, and pushed himself away from the bar. “You see if you can find him, using your nose. He’s somewhere in this bar. You find him, you find me, and we’ll treat you right.” The lion reached a thick palm up and hefted his own junk, in his soft jean shorts. Hanare enjoyed the view, of course, but he gurgled out a protest as the lion disappeared between the weaving, glowing dancers.\n\n Hanare had been ready to -take- the lion, there and then. Now he had to hunt for him, again? A smile curled up against his lips. This was going to be fun. He unsnapped his shirt, the little metal tips making soft popping sounds as they separated, and then he peeled the shirt away. The bared torso beneath it was sleek, shimmering slightly as if it had been swabbed in oil. It glistened. He was not a muscular fur, at least not at the moment, but no bones protruding through his skin. No, he just looked naturally small, sleek, slender, like a ferret that had shed it’s fur. That boneless seeming flexibility slid from his shoulders, through his elbows and down to his smooth, slender, long finger tips. Everything looked the way you would expect it to, only softened somehow where you would expect it to look sharp. He folded his shirt up, laying it neatly on the bar beside his drink, just a little yellow square to mark his place.\n\n He reached up, to where his dreads had been loosely tied into a clump, undoing the hemp rope and dropping it onto the shirt. The thick, olive colored hair bangs seemed to spring forward, briefly forming a static-infused afro, between gradually relaxing. Settling, seeming to almost weave and nestle against each other, but of course that was a trick of the light. This bar was an excellent place to see tricks of the light, which was in part why he was such a welcome regular there.\n\n He pressed into the dancing crowd. Being so small, so slender, he could not hope to find the lion or the ram with his eyes. Even his moogleballs were frustrated with the sheer amount of males in such close proximity, rendering their own special senses useless. That was fine.\n\nThe moogle’s nostrils flared, as he pressed between the back of a fox and the back of a rat, the two of them both swaying back and forth to the techno beat. His fingers slid softly over their thighs, leaving what felt like a cool, slimy trail against their skin. It was startling, sensual, and made the two of them turn to face each other. They smiled, and started to dance with each other instead, moving close and swaying again in time.\n\n To the left? He thought he caught a whiff of that starchy seed again... he moved instinctively towards it, finding a wolf, or perhaps husky - or perhaps both, twirling his glow-sticks, goggles blocking his eyes from being seen. Hanare smiled, as the husky gawked at him. The dark black lines that trailed through his dreadlocks, looking for all the world like Veins, was a bit of a trip all in itself. The husky had certainly touched the ram though - or the lion’s hand. Hanare sauntered close, hips gently swishing, twitching back and forth. He took the husky’s own hips in those slick, cool wet fingers, and felt the warmth of this hot blooded mammal pulsing under his fingertips. He pressed closer to the male, doing his little snake dance, and gently guiding the husky to follow alone. The poor dog couldn’t resist if he had wanted to, doing a sensual two step mamba with the Moogle, one paw reaching down to adjust an erection that was bulging hotly down one leg of his black vinyl bootie shorts. The tip was just long enough to peek out of the leg, though Hanare was sure the dog hadn’t planned that. He caught the scent, again, and with the softest stroke of his fingertip along the tip of husky’s shaft, the raving puppy climaxed, spattering hot spunk straight down in solid spurts onto the floor.\n\nHe dipped around a pair of tigers making out, encircling them with a slow banding circle of his touch, and caressing fingers unsheathed their claws, guttural growls ripping from their throats as their fawning turned more possessive. Even as Hanare moved away, a hapless zebra that had been dancing nearby was torn from his partner, sandwiched between the two hungry striped cats. Hanare paid no attention to the startled squeals, moans, as the zebra was beset upon. That, and the smell of the husky’s ejaculation, and the sense that something moved between the dancers - like a lion through a pack of wildebeest - seemed to be the flash point for the dancers.\n\nLike a growing plains fire, the males around Hanare began to grasp at each other, hunching. Pants being shed, growing erections just as quickly sheathed in hands or mouths. The Moogle could feel himself responding as well, his dreadlocks churning atop his head, straining to ‘lick’ across the other males, leaving more wet smears. The temperature was rising, and nobody seemed to be complaining.\n\nOf course, Hanare’s fingers weren’t the only things leaving slimy trails now. He didn’t even touch the off-duty police officer, but as the Moogle walked by he saw the pit bull was stroking his own body, fur slicked down, seeming to drool the thick spit from his fingertips. It soaked into his fur, forming a slippery film over his body. The police officer grabbed a slinky rat, licking up over that craning neck, the two of them slippery, slickly grinding against each other.\n\nThe scent was stronger to the right now, and Hanare turned towards it. A red light flashed, and an alarm, dull and robotic, a dull BWARP that rocked the attention.\n\nHanare had just run out of time.\n\nFrom above, clouds burst from the ceiling, thick, sticky clumps that foamed and fizzed and fell down to the writhing masses below in drooping clumps. Hanare lurched towards the scent, diving for it as blobs of the slime dropped around him. A raccoon squealed as a thickly crackling blob of the shimmering white foam fell over him, nearly consuming him. To Hanare’s left, a coyote groaned as a chunk slid down his back, wedging into the crescent between his rear and the crotch of the kangaroo that buggered him so soundly. Hanare charged around the back of a slippery dolphin, launched over a crouching wombat, letting his feet slide over that slippery, almost greasy fur that was slicked down on it, and launched himself forward as a huge clump of foam fell behind, encapsulating the wombat. The addition of the foam only churned things to a frothier pace, and the Moogle had to turn onto his side, sliding between the legs of two frotting bulls, thudding his forehead of first one heavy low hanging bag, and then a second.\n\n \tMost of the dance floor, and it’s occupants, was coated in the fizzing foam, but Hanare had dodged most of it. He sniffed at the air, reaching up and wiping the bull’s balls’ slime from his forehead with one hand. There! Dead ahead. He lurched forward, and\n\n A white blanket fell down around him. It tickled against his naked skin, fizzling like soda foam, melting into the lubricant it was made of. Dammit! Now he wasn’t going to be able to smell anything! Blindly he wiped at his muzzle, feeling something large slide up against his backside. He grunted, as slippery arms caressed over his sensitive sides, feeling the fingers interlock against his belly.\n\n“Well, well, well,” purred a voice in the side of his ear. “It looks like someone found us after all.” Something hard, and hot, and wet nestled up into the lube-foamed Moogle, nudging \tup between his rear cheeks. Hanare shivered, his wet dreadlocked braids curling around his neck, chin, looking like a drenched cat. He opened his eyes - the lube didn’t burn one bit - and saw a naked ram in front of him too. He wasn’t the most aesthetic of rams, no trimmed cur to show off bulging pecs, no tight leather cuffs around hard-flexed biceps. His fur, even slick and wet and shiny, hid any mass he had, and his belly was a thick bulging paunch that hid most of his sheath. He was short, burly, and he had a thick, pink cock that peeked out from beneath that sagging belly. He couldn’t tell how long it was, because he could only see the end of it, but there was a pair of nuts that dangled even further. Those, though, those were -perfect-.\n\nHanare felt his tight black neoprene shorts get even tighter as he took them in. Ripe, heavy thick, masculine. Obviously full of ram-spunk. He glanced distractedly down and saw that the lion had grabbed him - which would explain that hot erection grinding smooth and slick up along the backside of his shorts. He ground back, squirming, feeling the gripping arms slide against his smooth, wet body, sliding and stroking, tickling and inflaming his own lusts.\n\n\t“Well, well, he’s a feisty one, isn’t he?” said the lion in a syrupy purr behind the Moogle. Fingers slide over his smooth, slick belly, his side, making Hanare shudder with the sensual caress. \n\n\t“You have,” Hanare panted whinining softly as he felt that thick meat grind harder against his sheathed buttocks, “no idea, how hard it was, Mmf, to track you down! You guys aren’t going to, unnnnh, leave me hanging, are you? Please? I need your-”\n\n\t“You’ll need exactly what we decide you need. Come on, Buford, let’s take this little slut to the backroom.”\n\n“The back room?” Hanare whined. The slick, slimy Moogle leaned in, taking the ram’s nuggets in his slippery, cool paws. “But I don’t want to go all the way over there, I want you -now-.” To the side, the pit bull, streamed over his belly and chest with thick, drooling spatters of cum, knelt and tugged on the equally slippery length of cock that a moose with cropped antlers was sporting. “See? They’re not going private..” the Moogle was caressing, stroking, squeezing the ram’s aching testicles, and it was having exactly the effect the Moogle was hoping for. There was no other possible effect, really, for the wet, supple fingers were smearing that peculiar greasy slime that coated the Moogle into the ovine orbs. The ram stiffened, his back arching, and down below, little ram arced up to tap against his belly. \n\n“Shit, Jared, where did you find this little tramp?” The lion grinned, his whole front already soaked through with the foamy slime, and he let the Moogle go to pull off his shirt. Hanare was instantly on his knees, moogleballs sliding along the ram’s belly, pressing to either side, like a bug’s antenna. Buford’s head rolled back as that slick, toothless muzzle engulfed, swallowed over his erection. It was warm, slippery, frictional, caressing a cock that had not been so hard in years. He pushed his fingers into Hanare’s dreads, feeling how hot and welt they felt. “Damn, buddy, you’re gonna over heat like that!” Fingers pushed those elastic bands that kept the moogle’s dreadlocks trussed away, snapping off into the crowd. There was a loud squeal, somewhere in the crowd, as those dreadlocks sprung out like living snakes. They unfurled and stretched in the air, not feeling as much like clumps of hair as like smooth, glistening worms. The ram watched with dull, glassy eyes and drooling mouth as they weaved hypnotically, tasting at the air.\n\nJared would have responded, of course, if he hadn’t been so fascinated with the other side of Hanare. Those nimble feline fingers were fighting between pulling those tight shorts down, and dealing with his own insistent erection. Pre-cum was drooling out of it in thick, syrupy streams, clinging to the underside and spattering on the foam splattered floor. More of the suds were occasionally flopping down from above, landing with empty crashes on the revellers below. Jared couldn’t care less. The scene was so hot, so many other dudes getting off all around, the music thrumming in his bones. It was exotic, almost alien, the way everyone twisted and ground and bucked against each other. He finally dropped his erection, jutting as it was from his own soaked shorts, and used both paws to focus on the slippery tramp in front of him. Those shorts were literally peeled, turning inside out as he pulled them down, and he grasped the naked green rump that was even as he grasped it, pushing needfylly back into his grasp.\n\nHanare groaned into his mouthful of ram-cock, feeling the thick, roughly barbed cock of the lion press firmly into his backside. He was by no means a virgin, this Moogle, but he had at this point in his... exploits... that he didn’t have to be virginal to be tight. That butter-supple rear welcomed the lion in, seemingly suckling at his maleness, even as it clamped and gripped that intruding shaft. The lion wasn’t that long, no, but he was pleasantly thick, a nice rump-spike to deal with. The weight on his back announced when the lion was hilted, and he smiled around his mouthful as Jared reached underneath him, sliding his fingers along his belly to grasp his own rigidness. The moogle’s cock throbbed in his fingers, seeming to flex, to sinuously throb from root to tip. Hanare gurgled around Buford’s meat, pulling off to grip and stroke it slowly. He turns around, winking to the drooling lion, who’s thick mane was slicked back, forming thick clumps as it hung limply from his skull. \n\n“What kind of pussy gives a reach around?” He said, smirking, feeling the ram’s cock twitch in his grasp. He casually reached, without looking, to hold and pull those fat ovals down, keeping them taut. Fingers kneaded them as he jerked off Buford, hearing the ram’s startled grunts, moans of complaint. “If you can’t fuck me like a stud, maybe you should get underneath me.” \n\n\tHanare’s plan worked. Those fingers pulled away from the supple, nearly translucent green shaft, and Jared pulled back, standing straight. \n\n\t“Oh. Umm...” His glassy eyes seemed to focus for a second, lips pulling down into a frown as he realized he had just been dressed down. Hanare’s ass rippled around his cock, though, and they glazed over completely. “Yes sir.” His hips began to piston, then, grinding his meat into the green Moogle’s rear, and Hanare, satisfied, turned back to the ram dick.\n\n\t“I wanna swallow your whole load, now, you hear me?” He said up to Buford, who didn’t seem to quite understand him. Maybe it was the whole ‘speech’ thing that got him. Hanare was reasonably sure that by now, the strange pheromones his body secreted had shut down most of the big stud’s communication center in his brain. The ram drooled down as Hanare waggled that erection, then chewed his way down it’s gristled length. Not really chewing, of course, but mouthing with his teeth nonetheless. The ram’s nuts were hairless, now, their fuzzy covering dissolved away like most of the rest of his fleece, reduced to a thick, gluey slime that clung to his body. The ram caressed, staring stupidly as patches of his pelt slid free and dissolved away under his touch, baring the smooth, gray flesh beneath.\n\nThere wasn’t enough in the ram’s brain to really piece this together, and if there was, well, there was also a hot little slut sucking his cock like the world’s last Popsicle. He ignored it, watching the hypnotic weaving dreadlocks of hair slowly clump together. They formed, merged, sliding together into bigger clumps, with strange bulged on their tips. These thicker, serpentine dreads slowly elongated, dipping down around the moogle’s cheekbones, dipping down. Buford gasped aloud as the first of them latched onto the side of his nuts. He reached down, the feeling bizarre, to pull it away, but Hanare batted his hand away. Another latched onto the other side of his fat scrotum, and the two pushed together, grinding the stud’s eggs together. Then pulling apart.\n\n\tJared was sweating, as if he was overheated, though he felt fine. He could feel the sweat sliding down his back, though, as his own pelt was sweated off, dissolving as it went into more of that slippery slime that coated his body. His tail flicked through the air, the tuft splatting on the floor as it flexed again, the bones inside softening, becoming almost jellied. Individual bones merged together, forming one long, sinuous, boneless tail that coiled through the air. His shaft was swollen, taut, his balls tightening, swelling. He was getting ready to blow his load. \n\n\tHanare wasn’t quite ready for that, though. His cock, left to dangle and twitch under his belly, now surged, swelling, and splitting wetly down the middle, bisecting into two equal tentacles. There was no blood, no gore, for in fact the Moogle’s cock WAS two tentacles, tentacles that could assemble and dissemble from each other like you would expect half formed gelatin to do. His hair, of course, was the same, those dreadlocks actually completely prehensile, boneless protrustions that could do any number of things.\n\n\tThey can secret enzymes, for example. Take Buford, for example. He was stuttering, trying to get Jared’s attention, or that pit bull’s, any one’s, but he just couldn’t seem to get more than moans out of his mouth. He could feel those things, whatever they were, leeching at his nuts. The tickling had turned to itching, which had turned into a wet, cool rush of fluid Into his pouch. He panted, head slumping, just watching as the Moogle at his groin nursed on his flesh. Those leeches, they had punctured into his sac, but it felt good, somehow. Not painful at all. Even now, he could feel against his testicles, the slippery grip as those tentacles spread. Gellied amoebas, slowly engulfing around the ram’s plump orbs, underneath the naked greenish gray skin of his pouch. The de-fleeced ram stomped a hoof as he felt them wrap around his eggs, wholly encapsulating them, slimy and thick, making his scrotum strain with all the extra bulk. They started to rub, back and forth, slowly caressing against his trapped testicles, seeming to lick at them.\n\n\tThe moogle’s cock had been no less busy, sliding down, over his own testes to slowly snag the lion’s own naked yellow-green sac. They wrapped around it, twining like fingers or ribbons around the neck, and they were tugging insistently. One twisted one way, one twisting the other, as if they were Indian rug-burning the lion’s proud pouch. Jared didn’t even notice. His eyes were vacant, now, hips thrusting savagely into the moogle’s rear end, even as those twisting ribbons dissolved slowly through his scrotum, burning through the soft, yielding flesh. \n\nJared’s own tail was busy, now, as well. A rodent, tan colored, dripping wet and glassy eyed like everyone else on the dance floor, had just gotten a double face full of musky fox goop, and was searching for a fresh cock to suck. He had been walking past the threesome, not even paying attention, when the now completely translucent tail of the lion had whipped up between his legs. Splat! The slim ratboi had jumped, staring down in surprise at what looked like a green cock ring had wrapped around his junk. Even as he watched, it goosed itself tighter, and he let out a squeaking giggle as it slid over his erection... and eeped as it tightened over his low hanging mouse-plums. \n\nJared was vaguely aware that he had caught a rodent with his tail, but he wasn’t thinking about it. He was too busy climaxing. The lion’s green skinned head pulled back in a gargling roar, the last of his normal coloring draining out of his body, seemingly siphoned through his groin, leaving a rich, exotic olive green color in it’s place. Those twisting ribbons separated, one still at his groin, the other sliding down to firmly grip those heavy hanging nuts. The lion’s pouch was almost completely dissolved through, pinched impossibly looking tight, way up high. He was about to be a gelding, but the lion didn’t seem to care.\n\nBuford did care, but the green and grey patched ram couldn’t do anything about it. Unlike the lion, who was getting a relatively unintrusive plucking, the ram’s balls were being crushed and dissolved in their sac. That mouth at his groin was fawning though, teasing the big stud even as those soft licks from earlier turned into rougher, raspier scrapes, until those enveloping mouths had formed prying, root-like tendrils that pushed into the ram’s testicles. They burrowed, hungry little maggots that they were, squeezing through the fibrous outer shell and plunging deeply into the salty nougat inside. It didn’t hurt as much as it felt fucking bizarre, and Buford’s fingers tried to clench around the Moogle’s poofballs, to pull them up and away. They twisted, coiled around the ram’s wrist though, keeping his arms safely away as he bobbed, licked and slurped. \n\nHanare practically purred as he felt the first drops of the ram’s dissolved testicles soak up through his hair tendrils, being pulled and absorbed directly from the source. He may have been able to get it through his blowjob, too, but he didn’t want to risk the cocky ram pulling out and splattering all over his muzzle. That would have been such a waste. So instead, he was going to devour his testicles, entirely, from the inside out, and if that meant that Buford wasn’t going to get one last orgasm because of it? Oh well. He felt that cock twitch in his mouth, again, the third time at least that the ram’s body had attempted ejaculation. Hanare couldn’t help but smirk, wrapping his tongue around that thick, dark green flesh of the ram’s shaft, which was getting more and more squishy, less and less cock-like by the second. \n\nJacob had it almost as bad as Buford did. The poor rodent had tried to pull that green thing off of his balls, and the cock ring had snaked up like a bull whip, wrapping around his wrists and keeping them pinned. He was hunched over, watching, as the tip of the lion’s tail, now sporting a tuft-like bulge, honed in on his crotch. It ignored the rodent’s nuts, though, instead prying it’s way over that cute, if meager, erection. It jutted up, alright, every erection in the bar wouldn’t go down if you paid it to at this point, and even with that slimy bulge slowly squeezing and pressing and compressing itself down into the rodent’s narrow urethra, it still stood proud. That bulge squirted down through the rodent’s cock, a proverbial watermelon seed pinched between two fingers, and the rodent Twitched again as he stared at the green stalk jutting out of his groin, er, rather, out of the stalk in his groin. His cock wiggled, from side to side, as he felt that probing menace slide further into his loins, sinking deeper and deeper inside of him. He felt his ass clench, making a cute O with his mouth as his rear told him suddenly that he was being fucked, and fucked Hard, as if something was crushing against his prostate. He even glanced behind him, but of course there was nobody there. The feeling continued, the intruding tentacle sinking further and further down, until finally it bulged, visibly, down the cords that led to his testicles. He could feel it ‘empty out’ into his balls, and let out a shriek as he felt the sensation of having his testicles suddenly being sucked inside out.\n\nIt was raw, sudden, a clamping that pulled at the innermost core of his tender dewdads. He went to grasp at them, his proud ratplums twitching, shivering. A wet rending sound heard from his groin, as a ‘mouthful’ of the inside of his scrotum was pulled free, and worse than that, he could feel it sliding back through his tubing. A cartoonish hose bulge slide up either side of his testicular cords, Slumping into his prostate, and then oozed, a thick grey paste, out of his shaft and into the naked green tentacle that sprouted from it. Before it had even emerged, though, two more similar mouthfuls had been sucked, siphoned from his plump berries.\n\nJared slumped back over the roorat, spent, exhausted. His cock was still twitching, of course, still doing slow, leisurely spurts into the Moogle’s backside. He had no way of knowing, of course, that at this point, he was actually spurting Jacob’s nut matter directly into the hungry alien’s rear end. He just knew that every ten seconds or so, his whole body clenched, and he felt himself squirt another thick blob into the charge under him. \n\nHe hadn’t noticed, of course, when those ribbons had finally sawed their way through his own sac, stealing his jewels, forever, from where they had rested between his thighs. The tentacle pulled that pilfered pouch up, away from Jared, to claim it for the Moogle’s own. \n\n\tBuford was soaked in the most sweat he’d ever been in, his body contracting in rictus as it attempted, once more, to expel it’s load. Of course, most of Buford’s load was already gone, having been claimed by the devious roost that now filled most of the ram’s scrotum. Only trace amounts of what had used to be his proud testicles remained, small chunks that had one way or another avoided the direct probing of the tentacles. Those tentacles seem to be pretty happy with what they had, though. They pulled free.\n\n\tViolently.\n\n\tBuford’s scrotum ripped apart, revealing nothing inside but the few splatters of matter that had once been gonad, falling wetly to the slick floor. The Moogle pulled back, grinning, and glancing down to see a naked lion sack being proffered to him by his dick.\n\n\t“Oh, why thank you, you’re so generous.” He grinned, taking it. He held it, hefted it. Two good, kiwi-sized lumps inside. A nice, ripe catch. Just like he had expected. He held it over his mouth, and upended, drinking the fluids that poured out onto his tongue. Salty and slick. One, and then the other of the Jared’s eggs slid out, before his dazed, uncaring eyes, and the Moogle gulped them down with sweet relish. They were delicious. \n\n\tThe overhead sprinklers came on. All around, everyone seemed to be coming out of their trance. Green, pallid skin began to resume it’s natural color, glassy eyes unglazed, stiff erections that would not go down, finally wilting. \n\n\tHanare stood up, pulling off of the lion’s shaft, which had stopped it’s twitching. He looked over his prey. They were still strong, still muscular, but both the lion and the ram had been changed. Neutered, certainly. Stripped of their fur. Their naked skin glossy, gleaming as if slickly wet. Just like the moogle’s. Their features seemed softer, rounded oddly, as if a layer of jelly lay just under the skin. The ram’s horns had gone from pure black to a shimmery onyx, with a latticework of green veins crossing through it. The lion was already sprouting his own set of ‘dreadlocks’, inch long sprouts that wiggled around on his head. What was this?\n\n\tA third catch. Poor Jacob the rat, looking terribly confused, and embarrassed, still caught by the lion’s tail. Hanare smiles to the wee little fellow, wandering close and with a few soft strokes along the lion’s tail, pulled it free of the rodent’s denuded groin. His cock slumped over, seeming to gape for a second before retreating back into the safety of it’s sheath.\n\n\t“Wha... what happened?” Jacob gasped, still confused, still trapped in the sensation of being devoured. \n\n\t“My sweet little lamb,” Hanare purred. The ram, and the lion, eyes now a dull, pupilless green, standing behind him, arms folded, uninitiated thugs. “You just joined my family.” He leaned in, finger caressing the smaller rodent’s jawline.\n\n\tJacob shuddered. “I, I am not sure I want to be in your.. family...”\n\n\tHanare kissed him.\n\n\tHanare more than kissed him, actually. The soft, wet lips of the Moogle pressed against Jacob’s, who’s eyes darted around wildly. That pit bull should help him! He waved his arm, but the dog glanced at him, once, glanced at the two silent body guards, and turned around, walking away. \n\n\tThe Moogle’s tongue pressed against his own. It was not the familiar coppery taste he expected. It was different. It was synthetic, the taste you get when you lick an empty plastic spoon. It slid over his own tongue, swelling, beefing up.\n\n\tJacob tried to pull away, squirming, but the Moogle’s arms were wrapped so snugly around his waist. That tongue slid in, into his mouth, past his tongue, against his throat. \n\n\tOh God.\n\n\tIt slid up, instead of down, behind his nose. Up into his sinus cavities. The sensation made him want to sneeze, but he couldn’t. It made him want to retch, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything! He could feel it, probing upwards, and he felt a coldness touch him, somewhere he had never been touched, in the place where the rat’s dreams came from. It tainted him, leaving it’s mark, a slimy residue that seeped slowly into the rodent’s brain.\n\n\tHanare pulled back, smiling, and the rodent grabbed the sides ofhis head, shaking it to try and get rid of the tickling in his mind.\n\n\t“You can fight it, if you want, but it’s not going to help you. You’re mine, now. You can go home, for now, and try to think of a good reason why you don’t have balls anymore.”\n\n\t\n\n\tJacob squeaked in shock, grasping at his empty, hanging scrotum. “My! My!”\n\n\t“No, those were -mine-, not yours. And they were delicious.”\n\n\tJacob began to hyperventilate, mind racing, panicking. What the hell was going on!? He glanced to the Moogle who kept smiling at him, though, and all of a sudden, all of the panic drained out of his mind, leaving him still, calm, almost sedate. \n\n\t“Good little pet. Now go home, and get ready. You’ll hunt with me tomorrow night.”\n\n\tThe poor emasculated little roorat scurried away, blindly listening through he didn’t know why, or even who, he was obeying. Hanare turned back to his new green slaves, who stood silently, brainlessly, clearly the species that they used to be, and clearly, also, not. \n\n\t“You two. We have a lot of work to do.”\n\n\t\n\n\t“Yes, sir,” they replied in unison.\n\n\t“I have some Brothers for you to meet.”\n\n\t“Yes, sir,” came the replies.\n\n\t“Good. This way, then.” \n\n\tHanare pulled his shorts back up, pulling them snugly up around his hips. He was almost glowing, a strange allure, a gleam in his eye, a scent of sex abiding him. As he led his two charges out, through the sopping wet crowd, males felt twinges again between their legs. Perhaps, perhaps there was enough time for another quick round in the backroom. What’s the worst that could happen, right?\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Strange Tastes

Written by Charn, 2011

All characters copyright their original owners

The bar was pretty typical, for a Friday night in the middle of the month. Which suited this green skinned Moogle just fine. The usual crew were there, and he felt more than one playful tap against his sensitive  danglepoofs as he sauntered his way past the bar. The dance floor was busy, but not crowded, and Hanare took the last stool in line to peer into the mass of casually writhing bodies, searching for that special -someone-. He knew they were here, he could feel it, a tingling tickle just under his skin.

It wasn’t that he was stalking someone. Well he was. He had followed them in here, using the delicate sensors in those puffballs that were even now gently twitching and searching out the air in front of him. He just didn’t know who it was, yet.

Was that him? A stag, head down slightly, antlers weaving, painted with some sort of fluorescent orange, green, and blue paints making them glow brightly int he black light. Hanare took his regular drink from the bar beside him - just some seltzer water with a sprig of cilantro in it - and sipped at it, enjoying the fizz against his tongue. No, it wasn’t the stag. For all his broad height, the stag was.. more doe then stag where it mattered.

What about the bulldog, then? He may be a bit older, a bit heavy-gutted, maybe a bit clumsy, but... oh. Shame. He had the equipment, but he also had the traditional stance of an off-duty police officer, and a police officer was -not- the kind of attention Hanare was looking for tonight.\t

That bear might work. Hanare reached for his glass, to find it missing. He frowned, turning to find it on the bar top - and instead finding a grinning lion.

“Hey there.” said the feline. He was tall, as tall as the stag, though not as broad. Still, he was thickly furred, a sheen of musk, of oily fur that could come from those with overactive hormones, and Hanare smiled back. His antennas twitched, a slow, enticing blast of enzymes pouring down their stalks and into the Moogle’s brain directly. The effect it had on him was automatic, instinctual, and more enticing then any drug could be. He felt his mouth grow warmer, his eyes sharpening into heightened color clarity, and he felt things, things inside the parts of him that others could see, shifting, flexing, waking up.

\t“Hey there,” he smiled back. “You must be the dude I could smell all the way out in the parking lot.”

 \tThe lion chuckled, licking up over his lips, looking the Moogle over. Hanare had to struggle, as the sweet, sour, earthy scent of the lion’s base musk inflamed his senses. His body was ready to pounce, ready to claim, and Hanare mentally scolded himself for waiting so long to do this. Still, though, he remained poised, casual, confident.

“May have been me, may have been my boyfriend. You seen him? Smell him?” The lion held out a hand, and the moogle looked at it curiously, then back to the lion. “Go on, take a sniff. That’s him.”

  \t

Cautiously, Hanare leaned forward, and presses his cute little nose against the crackly fur that sprouted up between the tough skin pads on the lion’s palm. Oh. Oh, that was an intensely ovine smell, the smell of a male’s penis, of his sperm, or at least pre-cum, just laying on the lion’s hand, as if-

The lion seemed to enjoy the way the smaller male jolted on the bar-stool. “Yeah, that’s the normal reaction. His name’s Buford.” The lion grinned, and pushed himself away from the bar. “You see if you can find him, using your nose. He’s somewhere in this bar. You find him, you find me, and we’ll treat you right.” The lion reached a thick palm up and hefted his own junk, in his soft jean shorts. Hanare enjoyed the view, of course, but he gurgled out a protest as the lion disappeared between the weaving, glowing dancers.

 Hanare had been ready to -take- the lion, there and then. Now he had to hunt for him, again? A smile curled up against his lips. This was going to be fun. He unsnapped his shirt, the little metal tips making soft popping sounds as they separated, and then he peeled the shirt away. The bared torso beneath it was sleek, shimmering slightly as if it had been swabbed in oil. It glistened. He was not a muscular fur, at least not at the moment, but no bones protruding through his skin. No, he just looked naturally small, sleek, slender, like a ferret that had shed it’s fur. That boneless seeming flexibility slid from his shoulders, through his elbows and down to his smooth, slender, long finger tips. Everything looked the way you would expect it to, only softened somehow where you would expect it to look sharp. He folded his shirt up, laying it neatly on the bar beside his drink, just a little yellow square to mark his place.

 He reached up, to where his dreads had been loosely tied into a clump, undoing the hemp rope and dropping it onto the shirt. The thick, olive colored hair bangs seemed to spring forward, briefly forming a static-infused afro, between gradually relaxing. Settling, seeming to almost weave and nestle against each other, but of course that was a trick of the light. This bar was an excellent place to see tricks of the light, which was in part why he was such a welcome regular there.

 He pressed into the dancing crowd. Being so small, so slender, he could not hope to find the lion or the ram with his eyes. Even his moogleballs were frustrated with the sheer amount of males in such close proximity, rendering their own special senses useless. That was fine.

The moogle’s nostrils flared, as he pressed between the back of a fox and the back of a rat, the two of them both swaying back and forth to the techno beat. His fingers slid softly over their thighs, leaving what felt like a cool, slimy trail against their skin. It was startling, sensual, and made the two of them turn to face each other. They smiled, and started to dance with each other instead, moving close and swaying again in time.

 To the left? He thought he caught a whiff of that starchy seed again... he moved instinctively towards it, finding a wolf, or perhaps husky - or perhaps both, twirling his glow-sticks, goggles blocking his eyes from being seen. Hanare smiled, as the husky gawked at him. The dark black lines that trailed through his dreadlocks, looking for all the world like Veins, was a bit of a trip all in itself. The husky had certainly touched the ram though - or the lion’s hand. Hanare sauntered close, hips gently swishing, twitching back and forth. He took the husky’s own hips in those slick, cool wet fingers, and felt the warmth of this hot blooded mammal pulsing under his fingertips. He pressed closer to the male, doing his little snake dance, and gently guiding the husky to follow alone. The poor dog couldn’t resist if he had wanted to, doing a sensual two step mamba with the Moogle, one paw reaching down to adjust an erection that was bulging hotly down one leg of his black vinyl bootie shorts. The tip was just long enough to peek out of the leg, though Hanare was sure the dog hadn’t planned that. He  caught the scent, again, and with the softest stroke of his fingertip along the tip of husky’s shaft, the raving puppy climaxed, spattering hot spunk straight down in solid spurts onto the floor.

He dipped around a pair of tigers making out, encircling them with a slow banding circle of his touch, and caressing fingers unsheathed their claws, guttural growls ripping from their throats as their fawning turned more possessive. Even as Hanare moved away, a hapless zebra that had been dancing nearby was torn from his partner, sandwiched between the two hungry striped cats. Hanare paid no attention to the startled squeals, moans, as the zebra was beset upon. That, and the smell of the husky’s ejaculation, and the sense that something moved between the dancers - like a lion through a pack of wildebeest - seemed to be the flash point for the dancers.

Like a growing plains fire, the males around Hanare began to grasp at each other, hunching. Pants being shed, growing erections just as quickly sheathed in hands or mouths. The Moogle could feel himself responding as well, his dreadlocks churning atop his head, straining to ‘lick’ across the other males, leaving more wet smears. The temperature was rising, and nobody seemed to be complaining.

Of course, Hanare’s fingers weren’t the only things leaving slimy trails now. He didn’t even touch the off-duty police officer, but as the Moogle walked by he saw the pit bull was stroking his own body, fur slicked down, seeming to drool the thick spit from his fingertips. It soaked into his fur, forming a slippery film over his body. The police officer grabbed a slinky rat, licking up over that craning neck, the two of them slippery, slickly grinding against each other.

The scent was stronger to the right now, and Hanare turned towards it. A red light flashed, and an alarm, dull and robotic, a dull BWARP that rocked the attention.

Hanare had just run out of time.

From above, clouds burst from the ceiling, thick, sticky clumps that foamed and fizzed and fell down to the writhing masses below in drooping clumps. Hanare lurched towards the scent, diving for it as blobs of the slime dropped around him. A raccoon squealed as a thickly crackling blob of the shimmering white foam fell over him, nearly consuming him. To Hanare’s left, a coyote groaned as a chunk slid down his back, wedging into the crescent between his rear and the crotch of the kangaroo that buggered him so soundly. Hanare charged around the back of a slippery dolphin, launched over a crouching wombat, letting his feet slide over that slippery, almost greasy fur that was slicked down on it, and launched himself forward as a huge clump of foam fell behind, encapsulating the wombat. The addition of the foam only churned things to a frothier pace, and the Moogle had to turn onto his side, sliding between the legs of two frotting bulls, thudding his forehead of first one heavy low hanging bag, and then a second.

 \tMost of the dance floor, and it’s occupants, was coated in the fizzing foam, but Hanare had dodged most of it. He sniffed at the air, reaching up and wiping the bull’s balls’ slime from his forehead with one hand. There! Dead ahead. He lurched forward, and

 A white blanket fell down around him. It tickled against his naked skin, fizzling like soda foam, melting into the lubricant it was made of. Dammit! Now he wasn’t going to be able to smell anything! Blindly he wiped at his muzzle, feeling something large slide up against his backside. He grunted, as slippery arms caressed over his sensitive sides, feeling the fingers interlock against his belly.

“Well, well, well,” purred a voice in the side of his ear. “It looks like someone found us after all.” Something hard, and hot, and wet nestled up into the lube-foamed Moogle, nudging \tup between his rear cheeks. Hanare shivered, his wet dreadlocked braids curling around his neck, chin, looking like a drenched cat. He opened his eyes - the lube didn’t burn one bit - and saw a naked ram in front of him too. He wasn’t the most aesthetic of rams, no trimmed cur to show off bulging pecs, no tight leather cuffs around hard-flexed biceps. His fur, even slick and wet and shiny, hid any mass he had, and his belly was a thick bulging paunch that hid most of his sheath. He was short, burly, and he had a thick, pink cock that peeked out from beneath that sagging belly. He couldn’t tell how long it was, because he could only see the end of it, but there was a pair of nuts that dangled even further. Those, though, those were -perfect-.

Hanare felt his tight black neoprene shorts get even tighter as he took them in. Ripe, heavy thick, masculine. Obviously full of ram-spunk. He glanced distractedly down and saw that the lion had grabbed him - which would explain that hot erection grinding smooth and slick up along the backside of his shorts. He ground back, squirming, feeling the gripping arms slide against his smooth, wet body, sliding and stroking, tickling and inflaming his own lusts.

\t“Well, well, he’s a feisty one, isn’t he?” said the lion in a syrupy purr behind the  Moogle. Fingers slide over his smooth, slick belly, his side, making Hanare shudder with the sensual caress.

\t“You have,” Hanare panted whinining softly as he felt that thick meat grind harder against his sheathed buttocks, “no idea, how hard it was, Mmf, to track you down! You guys aren’t going to, unnnnh, leave me hanging, are you? Please? I need your-”

\t“You’ll need exactly what we decide you need. Come on, Buford, let’s take this little slut to the backroom.”

“The back room?” Hanare whined. The slick, slimy Moogle leaned in, taking the ram’s nuggets in his slippery, cool paws. “But I don’t want to go all the way over there, I want you -now-.” To the side, the pit bull, streamed over his belly and chest with thick, drooling spatters of cum, knelt and tugged on the equally slippery length of cock that a moose with cropped antlers was sporting. “See? They’re not going private..” the Moogle was caressing, stroking, squeezing the ram’s aching testicles, and it was having exactly the effect the Moogle was hoping for. There was no other possible effect, really, for the wet, supple fingers were smearing that peculiar greasy slime that coated the Moogle into the ovine orbs.  The ram stiffened, his back arching, and down below, little ram arced up to tap against his belly.

“Shit, Jared, where did you find this little tramp?” The lion grinned, his whole front already soaked through with the foamy slime, and he let the Moogle go to pull off his shirt. Hanare was instantly on his knees, moogleballs sliding along the ram’s belly, pressing to either side, like a bug’s antenna. Buford’s head rolled back as that slick, toothless muzzle engulfed, swallowed over his erection. It was warm, slippery, frictional, caressing a cock that had not been so hard in years. He pushed his fingers into Hanare’s dreads, feeling how hot and welt they felt. “Damn, buddy, you’re gonna over heat like that!” Fingers pushed those elastic bands that kept the moogle’s dreadlocks trussed away, snapping off into the crowd. There was a loud squeal, somewhere in the crowd, as those dreadlocks sprung out like living snakes. They unfurled and stretched in the air, not feeling as much like clumps of hair as like smooth, glistening worms. The ram watched with dull, glassy eyes and drooling mouth as they weaved hypnotically, tasting at the air.

Jared would have responded, of course, if he hadn’t been so fascinated with the other side of Hanare. Those nimble feline fingers were fighting between pulling those tight shorts down, and dealing with his own insistent erection. Pre-cum was drooling out of it in thick, syrupy streams, clinging to the underside and spattering on the foam splattered floor. More of the suds were occasionally flopping down from above, landing with empty crashes on the revellers below. Jared couldn’t care less. The scene was so hot, so many other dudes getting off all around, the music thrumming in his bones. It was exotic, almost alien, the way everyone twisted and ground and bucked against each other. He finally dropped his erection, jutting as it was from his own soaked shorts, and used both paws to focus on the slippery tramp in front of him. Those shorts were literally peeled, turning inside out as he pulled them down, and he grasped the naked green rump that was even as he grasped it, pushing needfylly back into his grasp.

Hanare groaned into his mouthful of ram-cock, feeling the thick, roughly barbed cock of the lion press firmly into his backside. He was by no means a virgin, this Moogle, but he had at this point in his... exploits... that he didn’t have to be virginal to be tight. That butter-supple rear welcomed the lion in, seemingly suckling at his maleness, even as it clamped and gripped that intruding shaft. The lion wasn’t that long, no, but he was pleasantly thick, a nice rump-spike to deal with. The weight on his back announced when the lion was hilted, and he smiled around his mouthful as Jared reached underneath him, sliding his fingers along his belly to grasp his own rigidness. The moogle’s cock throbbed in his fingers, seeming to flex, to sinuously throb from root to tip. Hanare gurgled around Buford’s meat, pulling off to grip and stroke it slowly. He turns around, winking to the drooling lion, who’s thick mane was slicked back, forming thick clumps as it hung limply from his skull.

“What kind of pussy gives a reach around?” He said, smirking, feeling the ram’s cock twitch in his grasp. He casually reached, without looking, to hold and pull those fat ovals down, keeping them taut. Fingers kneaded them as he jerked off Buford, hearing the ram’s startled grunts, moans of complaint. “If you can’t fuck me like a stud, maybe you should get underneath me.”

\tHanare’s plan worked. Those fingers pulled away from the supple, nearly translucent green shaft, and Jared pulled back, standing straight.

\t“Oh. Umm...” His glassy eyes seemed to focus for a second, lips pulling down into a frown as he realized he had just been dressed down. Hanare’s ass rippled around his cock, though, and they glazed over completely. “Yes sir.” His hips began to piston, then, grinding his meat into the green Moogle’s rear, and Hanare, satisfied, turned back to the ram dick.

\t“I wanna swallow your whole load, now, you hear me?” He said up to Buford, who didn’t seem to quite understand him. Maybe it was the whole ‘speech’ thing that got him. Hanare was reasonably sure that by now, the strange pheromones his body secreted had shut down most of the big stud’s communication center in his brain. The ram drooled down as Hanare waggled that erection, then chewed his way down it’s gristled length. Not really chewing, of course, but mouthing with his teeth nonetheless. The ram’s nuts were hairless, now, their fuzzy covering dissolved away like most of the rest of his fleece, reduced to a thick, gluey slime that clung to his body. The ram caressed, staring stupidly as patches of his pelt slid free and dissolved away under his touch, baring the smooth, gray flesh beneath.

There wasn’t enough in the ram’s brain to really piece this together, and if there was, well, there was also a hot little slut sucking his cock like the world’s last Popsicle. He ignored it, watching the hypnotic weaving dreadlocks of hair slowly clump together. They formed, merged, sliding together into bigger clumps, with strange bulged on their tips. These thicker, serpentine dreads slowly elongated, dipping down around the moogle’s cheekbones, dipping down. Buford gasped aloud as the first of them latched onto the side of his nuts. He reached down, the feeling bizarre, to pull it away, but Hanare batted his hand away. Another latched onto the other side of his fat scrotum, and the two pushed together, grinding the stud’s eggs together. Then pulling apart.

\tJared was sweating, as if he was overheated, though he felt fine. He could feel the sweat sliding down his back, though, as his own pelt was sweated off, dissolving as it went into more of that slippery slime that coated his body. His tail flicked through the air, the tuft splatting on the floor as it flexed again, the bones inside softening, becoming almost jellied. Individual bones merged together, forming one long, sinuous, boneless tail that coiled through the air. His shaft was swollen, taut, his balls tightening, swelling. He was getting ready to blow his load.

\tHanare wasn’t quite ready for that, though. His cock, left to dangle and twitch under his belly, now surged, swelling, and splitting wetly down the middle, bisecting into two equal tentacles. There was no blood, no gore, for in fact the Moogle’s cock WAS two tentacles, tentacles that could assemble and dissemble from each other like you would expect half formed gelatin to do. His hair, of course, was the same, those dreadlocks actually completely prehensile, boneless protrustions that could do any number of things.

\tThey can secret enzymes, for example. Take Buford, for example. He was stuttering, trying to get Jared’s attention, or that pit bull’s, any one’s, but he just couldn’t seem to get more than moans out of his mouth. He could feel those things, whatever they were, leeching at his nuts. The tickling had turned to itching, which had turned into a wet, cool rush of fluid Into his pouch. He panted, head slumping, just watching as the Moogle at his groin nursed on his flesh. Those leeches, they had punctured into his sac, but it felt good, somehow. Not painful at all. Even now, he could feel against his testicles, the slippery grip as those tentacles spread. Gellied amoebas, slowly engulfing around the ram’s plump orbs, underneath the naked greenish gray skin of his pouch. The de-fleeced ram stomped a hoof as he felt them wrap around his eggs, wholly encapsulating them, slimy and thick, making his scrotum strain with all the extra bulk. They started to rub, back and forth, slowly caressing against his trapped testicles, seeming to lick at them.

\tThe moogle’s cock had been no less busy, sliding down, over his own testes to slowly snag the lion’s own naked yellow-green sac. They wrapped around it, twining like fingers or ribbons around the neck, and they were tugging insistently. One twisted one way, one twisting the other, as if they were Indian rug-burning the lion’s proud pouch. Jared didn’t even notice. His eyes were vacant, now, hips thrusting savagely into the moogle’s rear end, even as those twisting ribbons dissolved slowly through his scrotum, burning through the soft, yielding flesh.

Jared’s own tail was busy, now, as well. A rodent, tan colored, dripping wet and glassy eyed like everyone else on the dance floor, had just gotten a double face full of musky fox goop, and was searching for a fresh cock to suck. He had been walking past the threesome, not even paying attention, when the now completely translucent tail of the lion had whipped up between his legs. Splat! The slim ratboi had jumped, staring down in surprise at what looked like a green cock ring had wrapped around his junk. Even as he watched, it goosed itself tighter, and he let out a squeaking giggle as it slid over his erection... and eeped as it tightened over his low hanging mouse-plums.

Jared was vaguely aware that he had caught a rodent with his tail, but he wasn’t thinking about it. He was too busy climaxing. The lion’s green skinned head pulled back in a gargling roar, the last of his normal coloring draining out of his body, seemingly siphoned through his groin, leaving a rich, exotic olive green color in it’s place. Those twisting ribbons separated, one still at his groin, the other sliding down to firmly grip those heavy hanging nuts. The lion’s pouch was almost completely dissolved through, pinched impossibly looking tight, way up high. He was about to be a gelding, but the lion didn’t seem to care.

Buford did care, but the green and grey patched ram couldn’t do anything about it. Unlike the lion, who was getting a relatively unintrusive plucking, the ram’s balls were being crushed and dissolved in their sac. That mouth at his groin was fawning though, teasing the big stud even as those soft licks from earlier turned into rougher, raspier scrapes, until those enveloping mouths had formed prying, root-like tendrils that pushed into the ram’s testicles. They burrowed, hungry little maggots that they were, squeezing through the fibrous outer shell and plunging deeply into the salty nougat inside. It didn’t hurt as much as it felt fucking bizarre, and Buford’s fingers tried to clench around the Moogle’s poofballs, to pull them up and away. They twisted, coiled around the ram’s wrist though, keeping his arms safely away as he bobbed, licked and slurped.

Hanare practically purred as he felt the first drops of the ram’s dissolved testicles soak up through his hair tendrils, being pulled and absorbed directly from the source. He may have been able to get it through his blowjob, too, but he didn’t want to risk the cocky ram pulling out and splattering all over his muzzle. That would have been such a waste. So instead, he was going to devour his testicles, entirely, from the inside out, and if that meant that Buford wasn’t going to get one last orgasm because of it? Oh well. He felt that cock twitch in his mouth, again, the third time at least that the ram’s body had attempted ejaculation. Hanare couldn’t help but smirk, wrapping his tongue around that thick, dark green flesh of the ram’s shaft, which was getting more and more squishy, less and less cock-like by the second.

Jacob had it almost as bad as Buford did. The poor rodent had tried to pull that green thing off of his balls, and the cock ring had snaked up like a bull whip, wrapping around his wrists and keeping them pinned. He was hunched over, watching, as the tip of the lion’s tail, now sporting a tuft-like bulge, honed in on his crotch. It ignored the rodent’s nuts, though, instead prying it’s way over that cute, if meager, erection. It jutted up, alright, every erection in the bar wouldn’t go down if you paid it to at this point, and even with that slimy bulge slowly squeezing and pressing and compressing itself down into the rodent’s narrow urethra, it still stood proud. That bulge squirted down through the rodent’s cock, a proverbial watermelon seed pinched between two fingers, and the rodent Twitched again as he stared at the green stalk jutting out of his groin, er, rather, out of the stalk in his groin. His cock wiggled, from side to side, as he felt that probing menace slide further into his loins, sinking deeper and deeper inside of him. He felt his ass clench, making a cute O with his mouth as his rear told him suddenly that he was being fucked, and fucked Hard, as if something was crushing against his prostate. He even glanced behind him, but of course there was nobody there. The feeling continued, the intruding tentacle sinking further and further down, until finally it bulged, visibly, down the cords that led to his testicles. He could feel it ‘empty out’ into his balls, and let out a shriek as he felt the sensation of having his testicles suddenly being sucked inside out.

It was raw, sudden, a clamping that pulled at the innermost core of his tender dewdads. He went to grasp at them, his proud ratplums twitching, shivering. A wet rending sound heard from his groin, as a ‘mouthful’ of the inside of his scrotum was pulled free, and worse than that, he could feel it sliding back through his tubing. A cartoonish hose bulge slide up either side of his testicular cords, Slumping into his prostate, and then oozed, a thick grey paste, out of his shaft and into the naked green tentacle that sprouted from it. Before it had even emerged, though, two more similar mouthfuls had been sucked, siphoned from his plump berries.

Jared slumped back over the roorat, spent, exhausted. His cock was still twitching, of course, still doing slow, leisurely spurts into the Moogle’s backside. He had no way of knowing, of course, that at this point, he was actually spurting Jacob’s nut matter directly into the hungry alien’s rear end. He just knew that every ten seconds or so, his whole body clenched, and he felt himself squirt another thick blob into the charge under him.

He hadn’t noticed, of course, when those ribbons had finally sawed their way through his own sac, stealing his jewels, forever, from where they had rested between his thighs. The tentacle pulled that pilfered pouch up, away from Jared, to claim it for the Moogle’s own.

\tBuford was soaked in the most sweat he’d ever been in, his body contracting in rictus as it attempted, once more, to expel it’s load. Of course, most of Buford’s load was already gone, having been claimed by the devious roost that now filled most of the ram’s scrotum. Only trace amounts of what had used to be his proud testicles remained, small chunks that had one way or another avoided the direct probing of the tentacles. Those tentacles seem to be pretty happy with what they had, though. They pulled free.

\tViolently.

\tBuford’s scrotum ripped apart, revealing nothing inside but the few splatters of matter that had once been gonad, falling wetly to the slick floor. The Moogle pulled back, grinning, and glancing down to see a naked lion sack being proffered to him by his dick.

\t“Oh, why thank you, you’re so generous.” He grinned, taking it. He held it, hefted it. Two good, kiwi-sized lumps inside. A nice, ripe catch. Just like he had expected. He held it over his mouth, and upended, drinking the fluids that poured out onto his tongue. Salty and slick. One, and then the other of the Jared’s eggs slid out, before his dazed, uncaring eyes, and the Moogle gulped them down with sweet relish. They were delicious.

\tThe overhead sprinklers came on. All around, everyone seemed to be coming out of their trance. Green, pallid skin began to resume it’s natural color, glassy eyes unglazed, stiff erections that would not go down, finally wilting.

\tHanare stood up, pulling off of the lion’s shaft, which had stopped it’s twitching. He looked over his prey. They were still strong, still muscular, but both the lion and the ram had been changed. Neutered, certainly. Stripped of their fur. Their naked skin glossy, gleaming as if slickly wet. Just like the moogle’s. Their features seemed softer, rounded oddly, as if a layer of jelly lay just under the skin. The ram’s horns had gone from pure black to a shimmery onyx, with a latticework of green veins crossing through it. The lion was already sprouting his own set of ‘dreadlocks’, inch long sprouts that wiggled around on his head. What was this?

\tA third catch. Poor Jacob the rat, looking terribly confused, and embarrassed, still caught by the lion’s tail. Hanare smiles to the wee little fellow, wandering close and with a few soft strokes along the lion’s tail, pulled it free of the rodent’s denuded groin. His cock slumped over, seeming to gape for a second before retreating back into the safety of it’s sheath.

\t“Wha... what happened?” Jacob gasped, still confused, still trapped in the sensation of being devoured.

\t“My sweet little lamb,” Hanare purred. The ram, and the lion, eyes now a dull, pupilless green, standing behind him, arms folded, uninitiated thugs. “You just joined my family.” He leaned in, finger caressing the smaller rodent’s jawline.

\tJacob shuddered. “I, I am not sure I want to be in your.. family...”

\tHanare kissed him.

\tHanare more than kissed him, actually. The soft, wet lips of the Moogle pressed against Jacob’s, who’s eyes darted around wildly. That pit bull should help him! He waved his arm, but the dog glanced at him, once, glanced at the two silent body guards, and turned around, walking away.

\tThe Moogle’s tongue pressed against his own. It was not the familiar coppery taste he expected. It was different. It was synthetic, the taste you get when you lick an empty plastic spoon. It slid over his own tongue, swelling, beefing up.

\tJacob tried to pull away, squirming, but the Moogle’s arms were wrapped so snugly around his waist. That tongue slid in, into his mouth, past his tongue, against his throat.

\tOh God.

\tIt slid up, instead of down, behind his nose. Up into his sinus cavities. The sensation made him want to sneeze, but he couldn’t. It made him want to retch, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything! He could feel it, probing upwards, and he felt a coldness touch him, somewhere he had never been touched, in the place where the rat’s dreams came from. It tainted him, leaving it’s mark, a slimy residue that seeped slowly into the rodent’s brain.

\tHanare pulled back, smiling, and the rodent grabbed the sides ofhis head, shaking it to try and get rid of the tickling in his mind.

\t“You can fight it, if you want, but it’s not going to help you. You’re mine, now. You can go home, for now, and try to think of a good reason why you don’t have balls anymore.”

\t

\tJacob squeaked in shock, grasping at his empty, hanging scrotum. “My! My!”

\t“No, those were -mine-, not yours. And they were delicious.”

\tJacob began to hyperventilate, mind racing, panicking. What the hell was going on!? He glanced to the Moogle who kept smiling at him, though, and all of a sudden, all of the panic drained out of his mind, leaving him still, calm, almost sedate.

\t“Good little pet. Now go home, and get ready. You’ll hunt with me tomorrow night.”

\tThe poor emasculated little roorat scurried away, blindly listening through he didn’t know why, or even who, he was obeying. Hanare turned back to his new green slaves, who stood silently, brainlessly, clearly the species that they used to be, and clearly, also, not.

\t“You two. We have a lot of work to do.”

\t

\t“Yes, sir,” they replied in unison.

\t“I have some Brothers for you to meet.”

\t“Yes, sir,” came the replies.

\t“Good. This way, then.”

\tHanare pulled his shorts back up, pulling them snugly up around his hips. He was almost glowing, a strange allure, a gleam in his eye, a scent of sex abiding him. As he led his two charges out, through the sopping wet crowd, males felt twinges again between their legs. Perhaps, perhaps there was enough time for another quick round in the backroom. What’s the worst that could happen, right?

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