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"submission_file_order": "1", "full_size_x": "3052", "full_size_y": "2571", "screen_size_x": "920", "screen_size_y": "775", "preview_size_x": "300", "preview_size_y": "253", "initial_file_md5": "ef22461f954924651edbb98eff90d620", "full_file_md5": "5e634b7f5d18bf69aa46573a84b8ddea", "large_file_md5": "1c7fb08e6f14a5decb8d7e8fb7062c85", "small_file_md5": "4558e2284a9a10266f4a6277582076ed", "thumbnail_md5": "81ab83617467f87ba29efee9fdb8771e", "deleted": "f", "create_datetime": "2021-04-21 21:52:37.92018+00", "create_datetime_usertime": "21 Apr 2021 23:52 CEST", "thumbnail_url_huge": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/3556/3556344_Dracovar_bat_cheese.jpg", "thumbnail_url_large": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/3556/3556344_Dracovar_bat_cheese.jpg", "thumbnail_url_medium": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/3556/3556344_Dracovar_bat_cheese.jpg", "thumb_huge_x": "300", "thumb_huge_y": "300", "thumb_large_x": "200", "thumb_large_y": "200", "thumb_medium_x": "120", "thumb_medium_y": "120", "thumbnail_url_huge_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/3556/3556344_Dracovar_bat_cheese.jpg", "thumbnail_url_large_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/3556/3556344_Dracovar_bat_cheese_noncustom.jpg", "thumbnail_url_medium_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/3556/3556344_Dracovar_bat_cheese_noncustom.jpg", "thumb_medium_noncustom_x": "120", "thumb_medium_noncustom_y": "101", "thumb_large_noncustom_x": "200", "thumb_large_noncustom_y": "168", "thumb_huge_noncustom_x": "300", "thumb_huge_noncustom_y": "253" } ], "pools": [], "description": "I sometimes like to imagine a world of furs in which clothing would be a concept different from ours. Seeing as how most of them have other means of adapting to temperature changes, the cultural attitude would essentially be that nudity is allowed in public and otherwise considered a more casual way of living, or honoring one’s wild roots. However, there would still be some modesty in regards to sex, so outward signs of arousal are a faux pas, and professional or formal environments would still encourage or require clothing. Just something that would create an interesting dichotomy for society and a backdrop for character interactions! I also just like conceiving different worlds and cultures for characters.\n\nIn this kind of world, Baxter would definitely be on the nudist side of things. In fact, he’d probably be so into it, he’d actually try to avoid situations where he’d have to wear clothing. No fancy restaurants, doesn’t have to go to business meetings, doesn’t interact with the high-brow crowd in general… after all, that’s where all the fun people are! Unfortunately, that kind of life does have its downsides. For instance, he probably rubs some people who could help him get ahead the wrong way. Also, considering his penis is 10 inches long while soft and twice that long hard, any unintentional arousal he gets is probably [i]very[/i] difficult to hide. \n\nThis is where I think this scene comes into play. Having balls the size of mangos, his libido could probably put a stray dog to shame! Some mornings, before heading out into town, he’s gotta take care of the pole making his bed into a tent. But again, size matters, and even with both paws, he’ll release one, two, three full loads of cum, and he’s swinging his bat bat again just seconds later. Poundin’ solo just isn’t gonna do the trick! That’s why it’s all the better for him to wake up next to someone capable of dampening his blazing loins. Someone who can handle 20 inches of foreskinned male meat. Someone who doesn’t mind reeking of bat fluids. Someone who understands that by nature of his species, he’s gonna be even rowdier and needier the night before.\n\nWon’t you be so kind?\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n[i]FOR THE FILTHY VERSION\nGuess what, it's dirty! [b]Don't say I didn't warn you![/b][/i]\n\nHe just kept staring at me from behind his cock as I pushed my hand deeper inside of him, my fingers having lost their place in his rectum. Reclining back on the bed with his arms elevated behind his head, the bat’s face was only visible when his erect 20-inch phallus twitched in a way that it would swing off to the side before wobbling back into place. And twitch it did, every time my finger curled upward in a way that it probed that male pleasure button buried in his loins. He chuckled again as the short tube of bundled foreskin hanging off the end of his penis spat another thick drop of bat pre.\n\n“I don’t know how you keep losing it!” said Baxter.\n\n“I don’t know how you’re so… loose in there!” I replied, digging against his fleshy inner walls with my fingers as his plump sphincter squelched against my wrist. The sheer elasticity of the bat’s anal ring continued to amaze me as it stretched around my arm with every motion my hand made in his bowels, though what should have amazed me more was the fact I was probing his butthole without any lube whatsoever. The combination of Baxter’s looseness and unkemptness allowed me to fist him using nothing but his own sweat and natural rectal slime to guide me through him.\n\nHowever, I wouldn’t count his unkemptness entirely to my benefit. From the moment I entered his home, my senses had been overwhelmed with the stink of bat. Every time I’d get used to one scent, Baxter’s pungent, tart, nose-wrinkling body odor would just engulf me with something even more intense, and not just from his armpits. It was definitely something I wouldn’t have endured if I wasn’t so in need of money and he wasn’t offering so much of it.\n\nI’m just glad I could suppress my gag reflex the moment I took his cash when he opened his maw and locked his lips around mine. My nasal passages balked at the foul stench of rotten bat breath and my tongue retreated at the squalid flavor of his swamp-like saliva before it was wrestled down by his own. Ever the professional whore I am, I sank my fingers into his oily fur, pulled his head closer, and forced myself to smell that putrid breath and drink that filthy drool. Ever since then, it has been a trial of acclimating to one disgusting sensation of chiropteran rancidness before being accosted by the next.\n\n“The search is half the fun!” said Baxter, as I made one more push into his tailhole with a moist schlurp and pressed down hard on a swollen bulb hidden within his nethers.\n\nHe gasped in a manner that almost sounded like a squeak the instant I pressed against it. Sitting in a cloud of Baxter’s sour genital stink-- which only intensified the more his sweat moistened old and dried accumulation dispersed throughout his crotch fur-- all I could think of was getting this ordeal over with and earning my day’s income. I rubbed and prodded his prostate vigorously, widening Baxter’s grin and rolling his yellow eyes as he softly bucked his hips in response to the pleasured sensations surging through his furry body. I somehow managed to keep my place in his bouncing rump as I scritched his love gland from within, uncertain whether the ease of which his entire exit flexed around my hand was a help or a hindrance. The more he humped the air, the wider the arcs his stiff cock made as it bounded back and forth like a lever on a spring in response.\n\n“Ngh! Mgh! God! Fuck! Yes! Aah!”\n\nThe floppy excess of foreskin clumped at the end of his penis slung thick strings of pre in every direction it flicked, mostly landing on his and my chest. I was unfortunate enough to have one of them land lengthwise across my face which I wiped off with the hand not wrist-deep in bat butt, only to find out it was an unusual color for pre-- kind of cloudy and yellowish.\n\n“W-wait, wait, stop stop stop!” said Baxter abruptly, panting as he pressed his foot against my face to push me away and slip his asshole off of my arm. The wet suction of Baxter’s rectum closing behind my hand went unnoticed as I was overcome by the scent of putrefied cheese, a stench left behind in the form of his grease-like paw sweat. Even worse, his splayed digits allowed chunks of jam that had congealed in the fur between his toes to smear across my lips and nose like miniature stink bombs. Sputtering and suppressing a dry heave, I used the end of my shirt to wipe away the bat’s foot filth, afraid that using the blanket on which I sat would only make it worse.\n\nBaxter lay idle on his bed, catching his breath as his member slowly went from a strained, quivering swell to idly erect.\n\n“What now?” I asked as kindly as I could muster, trying my best not to sound like a prisoner awaiting the next torture from his interrogator.\n\n“Don’t get me wrong, you did good!” said Baxter as he propped his upper body up on his elbows. “But that’s not why I brought you here today.” His gaping tailhole clenched in a way that wouldn’t surprise me if he was trying to wink at me without using his eyes.\n\n“… What reason would that be?” I asked hesitantly.\n\nWith a cocky smile, Baxter leaned on one arm so he could take the end of his almost 2-foot-long penis in his other paw and, in an unusually slow manner, retract the thick skin around his muscular shaft. The crumpled mess of extra foreskin slowly turned inside-out as the bat tugged downward on his cock’s thick hide, the flesh within gradually becoming slimier and slimier with each exposing inch. As the revealing inner skin turned a deeper shade of pink, it also became speckled with what I at first thought was glistening light, but then realized they were off-white chunks… of smegma. Smegma chunks that increased in size and abundance the more the interior of Baxter’s foreskin was revealed.\nThe more my face twisted in revulsion, the more Baxter’s lips stretched in a smile that was not only pleasured, but proud of the repulsive cesspool he had cultivated around his cockhead. Once his glans finally began to show itself, the sound of his foreskin peeling away from his dickcheese-caked dome reminded me of pulling apart two sheets of paper which had just been glued together before it could dry.\n\n“Aaaaahhh, yeah, get some air, boy,” sighed Baxter from the other side of his filth pole. As if his breath wasn’t malodorous enough, it picked up the fetid stench of all the old, foreskin-baked cock crud before finding its way into my nostrils. It took all my fortitude not to vomit on my customer right there and then, though the fear of him actually enjoying that did cross my mind. “Now we get REALLY dirty.”\n\nOn one hand, my limit had been reached. But the other hand didn’t spend fifteen minutes digging around inside a bat’s rectum just so it could be left empty.\n\n“Sweet lord,” I choked, shielding my nose and mouth from taking in the reeking fragrances with which Baxter had filled the air, “Have you ever heard of basic hygiene?”\n\n“Hygiene is for chumps.”", "description_bbcode_parsed": "I sometimes like to imagine a world of furs in which clothing would be a concept different from ours. Seeing as how most of them have other means of adapting to temperature changes, the cultural attitude would essentially be that nudity is allowed in public and otherwise considered a more casual way of living, or honoring one’s wild roots. However, there would still be some modesty in regards to sex, so outward signs of arousal are a faux pas, and professional or formal environments would still encourage or require clothing. Just something that would create an interesting dichotomy for society and a backdrop for character interactions! I also just like conceiving different worlds and cultures for characters.

In this kind of world, Baxter would definitely be on the nudist side of things. In fact, he’d probably be so into it, he’d actually try to avoid situations where he’d have to wear clothing. No fancy restaurants, doesn’t have to go to business meetings, doesn’t interact with the high-brow crowd in general… after all, that’s where all the fun people are! Unfortunately, that kind of life does have its downsides. For instance, he probably rubs some people who could help him get ahead the wrong way. Also, considering his penis is 10 inches long while soft and twice that long hard, any unintentional arousal he gets is probably very difficult to hide.

This is where I think this scene comes into play. Having balls the size of mangos, his libido could probably put a stray dog to shame! Some mornings, before heading out into town, he’s gotta take care of the pole making his bed into a tent. But again, size matters, and even with both paws, he’ll release one, two, three full loads of cum, and he’s swinging his bat bat again just seconds later. Poundin’ solo just isn’t gonna do the trick! That’s why it’s all the better for him to wake up next to someone capable of dampening his blazing loins. Someone who can handle 20 inches of foreskinned male meat. Someone who doesn’t mind reeking of bat fluids. Someone who understands that by nature of his species, he’s gonna be even rowdier and needier the night before.

Won’t you be so kind?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FOR THE FILTHY VERSION
Guess what, it's dirty! Don't say I didn't warn you!

He just kept staring at me from behind his cock as I pushed my hand deeper inside of him, my fingers having lost their place in his rectum. Reclining back on the bed with his arms elevated behind his head, the bat’s face was only visible when his erect 20-inch phallus twitched in a way that it would swing off to the side before wobbling back into place. And twitch it did, every time my finger curled upward in a way that it probed that male pleasure button buried in his loins. He chuckled again as the short tube of bundled foreskin hanging off the end of his penis spat another thick drop of bat pre.

“I don’t know how you keep losing it!” said Baxter.

“I don’t know how you’re so… loose in there!” I replied, digging against his fleshy inner walls with my fingers as his plump sphincter squelched against my wrist. The sheer elasticity of the bat’s anal ring continued to amaze me as it stretched around my arm with every motion my hand made in his bowels, though what should have amazed me more was the fact I was probing his butthole without any lube whatsoever. The combination of Baxter’s looseness and unkemptness allowed me to fist him using nothing but his own sweat and natural rectal slime to guide me through him.

However, I wouldn’t count his unkemptness entirely to my benefit. From the moment I entered his home, my senses had been overwhelmed with the stink of bat. Every time I’d get used to one scent, Baxter’s pungent, tart, nose-wrinkling body odor would just engulf me with something even more intense, and not just from his armpits. It was definitely something I wouldn’t have endured if I wasn’t so in need of money and he wasn’t offering so much of it.

I’m just glad I could suppress my gag reflex the moment I took his cash when he opened his maw and locked his lips around mine. My nasal passages balked at the foul stench of rotten bat breath and my tongue retreated at the squalid flavor of his swamp-like saliva before it was wrestled down by his own. Ever the professional whore I am, I sank my fingers into his oily fur, pulled his head closer, and forced myself to smell that putrid breath and drink that filthy drool. Ever since then, it has been a trial of acclimating to one disgusting sensation of chiropteran rancidness before being accosted by the next.

“The search is half the fun!” said Baxter, as I made one more push into his tailhole with a moist schlurp and pressed down hard on a swollen bulb hidden within his nethers.

He gasped in a manner that almost sounded like a squeak the instant I pressed against it. Sitting in a cloud of Baxter’s sour genital stink-- which only intensified the more his sweat moistened old and dried accumulation dispersed throughout his crotch fur-- all I could think of was getting this ordeal over with and earning my day’s income. I rubbed and prodded his prostate vigorously, widening Baxter’s grin and rolling his yellow eyes as he softly bucked his hips in response to the pleasured sensations surging through his furry body. I somehow managed to keep my place in his bouncing rump as I scritched his love gland from within, uncertain whether the ease of which his entire exit flexed around my hand was a help or a hindrance. The more he humped the air, the wider the arcs his stiff cock made as it bounded back and forth like a lever on a spring in response.

“Ngh! Mgh! God! Fuck! Yes! Aah!”

The floppy excess of foreskin clumped at the end of his penis slung thick strings of pre in every direction it flicked, mostly landing on his and my chest. I was unfortunate enough to have one of them land lengthwise across my face which I wiped off with the hand not wrist-deep in bat butt, only to find out it was an unusual color for pre-- kind of cloudy and yellowish.

“W-wait, wait, stop stop stop!” said Baxter abruptly, panting as he pressed his foot against my face to push me away and slip his asshole off of my arm. The wet suction of Baxter’s rectum closing behind my hand went unnoticed as I was overcome by the scent of putrefied cheese, a stench left behind in the form of his grease-like paw sweat. Even worse, his splayed digits allowed chunks of jam that had congealed in the fur between his toes to smear across my lips and nose like miniature stink bombs. Sputtering and suppressing a dry heave, I used the end of my shirt to wipe away the bat’s foot filth, afraid that using the blanket on which I sat would only make it worse.

Baxter lay idle on his bed, catching his breath as his member slowly went from a strained, quivering swell to idly erect.

“What now?” I asked as kindly as I could muster, trying my best not to sound like a prisoner awaiting the next torture from his interrogator.

“Don’t get me wrong, you did good!” said Baxter as he propped his upper body up on his elbows. “But that’s not why I brought you here today.” His gaping tailhole clenched in a way that wouldn’t surprise me if he was trying to wink at me without using his eyes.

“… What reason would that be?” I asked hesitantly.

With a cocky smile, Baxter leaned on one arm so he could take the end of his almost 2-foot-long penis in his other paw and, in an unusually slow manner, retract the thick skin around his muscular shaft. The crumpled mess of extra foreskin slowly turned inside-out as the bat tugged downward on his cock’s thick hide, the flesh within gradually becoming slimier and slimier with each exposing inch. As the revealing inner skin turned a deeper shade of pink, it also became speckled with what I at first thought was glistening light, but then realized they were off-white chunks… of smegma. Smegma chunks that increased in size and abundance the more the interior of Baxter’s foreskin was revealed.
The more my face twisted in revulsion, the more Baxter’s lips stretched in a smile that was not only pleasured, but proud of the repulsive cesspool he had cultivated around his cockhead. Once his glans finally began to show itself, the sound of his foreskin peeling away from his dickcheese-caked dome reminded me of pulling apart two sheets of paper which had just been glued together before it could dry.

“Aaaaahhh, yeah, get some air, boy,” sighed Baxter from the other side of his filth pole. As if his breath wasn’t malodorous enough, it picked up the fetid stench of all the old, foreskin-baked cock crud before finding its way into my nostrils. It took all my fortitude not to vomit on my customer right there and then, though the fear of him actually enjoying that did cross my mind. “Now we get REALLY dirty.”

On one hand, my limit had been reached. But the other hand didn’t spend fifteen minutes digging around inside a bat’s rectum just so it could be left empty.

“Sweet lord,” I choked, shielding my nose and mouth from taking in the reeking fragrances with which Baxter had filled the air, “Have you ever heard of basic hygiene?”

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