Balros Squirrel babysitters are dangerous. Squirrels babysitting bats, though, are dangerous for the squirrels. But your hardworking hyperhorny parents needed a break from their daughter who could outpace them at every turn, and they were offering double, triple pay, so he relented and accepted. And as he drove up to your school to pick you up, began to regret, as he saw you (https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/262461478588776449/802328081401905212/Treka01.jpg ) dangerously outgrowing your school uniform with violently progressing puberty. Sypress bounced on her heels as she waited for her ride home from school, reaching down to adjust her sextet of immense, impossibly productive balls as casually as one might adjust their backpack. Oops; the girl standing next to her was suddenly down on her knees, clutching her expanding belly as her features morphed and shifted into that of a bat. Within seconds, she was gushing estrus, and within just a few more seconds, she was birthing the first of her new daughters."Oh hey! She looks just like me!" Balros Balros had been warned that this battygirl was... needful. Demanding. Just as he pops open the car door to indicate you should get in, he sees you so casually fondle and adjust your huge balls that he can't help but see you have four of them, four fat spheres of intoxicatingly silky fur and irradiated with potency. Four churning orbs that also drop into the new ballsac of the fresh battygirl right next to you as shi herms out just from a whiff of you, the orbs only dwarfed by the profound breedergut shi's sporting and swiftly birthing from. The squirrel feels the fur on his hackles raise as the third emerging bat has tits bigger than evenhis* balls - so he practically dives out of the driver's seat to hop out of the car and slap the roof. "H-hey there S-sypress! Yeah, over here! I'm your ride today now could you come over here thaaaaat's a girl," He rapidly chatters to coax you over, watching on as the bats you've converted, and the bats they're birthing, are having a similar effect on the rest of the schoolyard, your facial features scrawling over everyone's heads as they squat, cum, and birth. But even as you come over, he's in a bit of a panic, as by the time you actually get -into- his car, he's watched your super cute and beautiful battyhead push and split into two heads.* Sypress "Oh hey!" "Thanks for the ride!" She says, one head speaking the first set of words before the other picks up where they left off, gazing out the passenger window to the swelling mass of batty herms. The immense lawn is more shades of tan and brown by the time she gets herself situated in the passenger seat, struggling with two right arms to feed the seatbelt between two pairs of breasts, each capped with an impossibly fat nipple. "I was so anxious when I got to school today!" "I didn't know if there would be anybody like me!" She said, both heads quickly going off tangent about how even the teachers looked like her, having long since excused themselves from their respective classrooms to add their resultant offspring to the veritable hoard of Sypress that even now was spreading behind them. "Balros, right?" "Dad told us about you!" "Or maybe it was mom." She shrugged all four shoulders. "Both?" "Both!" Her heads turned to grin at each other in a moment of self-awareness before turning to the squirrel. Was it just him, or were things getting incredibly, excessively humid in the car? Condensation was already running in rivulets down the cooler parts of the windshield and side windows from the very moment she got in~ Balros He's almost beside himself - this girl seems completely nonplussed! Your voices send aches through him, perfectly pitched to dribble into his ears and make his bulge bash the bottom of the steering wheel. He can justify waiting to speed off and away as waiting for you to close the door and put on the seatbelt, but he absolutely spends that time either staring at you - or anxiously staring out the window at the squealing, gushing displays of bat-on-bat orgasms. Each surging burst of growth on their battifying bodies occuring like they just can't keep it all in, unlike a well practised battygirl. Once the door is shut, his body is on autopilot, peeling out of the parking lot as quickly as possible and avoiding the cars that are rocking from the bats fucking inside them. "Y-yeah, Balros." He huffs, your endless flow of battychatter drowning out most other thoughts he can muster. But as he takes residential back-roads and lanes to avoid the worst of after-school traffic, and avoid any actual need to stop the car, it's your outpouring of pheremones that give him the most trouble; he has to tilt his head to one side to peer around his dick which is now slung over the seat and pouring squirreljizz into the back seat, and use his ankles to keep his balls from pushing the pedeals. He has to lean more and more into the middle of the car, eventually pressing his chin to your upper shoulder and his cheek against yours. Sypress Her rambling is incessant, talking about every little detail of the day. But those details seem to carry a common theme in that all of her classmates and her teachers are somehow bats. Like her! Her mood is light and bubbly with the revelation; so much so, in fact, that she doesn't even notice the thick wads of squirrel pre-jizz oozing into the back seat, quickly plastering the upholstery in dense, almost rubber-cement goop. "... But before fifth period even started, the teacher called off class!" She practically bounced. "All seven periods!" "Not a single class!" Both heads grinned, a pair of hands reaching up to cup the squirrel's cheek against the nearest of her twin being, sharing a particularly messy kiss with him as casually as she might share one with her mother right before bed. Such a kiss was... well... Precum wouldn't be the only thing Balros would be cleaning out of his car when he got around to it. The surge of heat that emanated from her body was sudden and intense, leaving the batty herm flushed and panting. "O-Oooh! That felt.." "Good!" She breathed. Somewhere within, she felt the first empty aches of need in the labyrinthine confines of her wombs. A bat of her caliber, a mere month and a half in physical age, sported some rather impressive assets. Ones that she needed to use, and soon! Balros The incessant chatter, the unending chittering and squeaking of your supercute voice, stringing syllables along like silky music - listening to you isn't like drugs, it is drugs. He manages to steer well enough and take the right turns, but less in a rush than before - and that is a detriment to the neighborhoods. Slow enough that pedestrians can hear a few sprightly sentences from you, then suddenly able to hear you much more clearly as their ears wrench taller from their heads. Joggers doubling over as their stretch pants stretch out with achingly full balls and sheath, tops tearing free to reveal stiff-nippled tits three times the size of their pretty battygrrl heads. But, that kiss, only blocks away from your house... enough for him to take his eyes off the road, his universe collapsing into just your sweet flavor and your seductively delicate teeth, lips and tongue. Sharing his flavor back as he tilts his muzzle and shares a long frencher with you, his nutty squirreltaste a catalyst for every unactivated hormones and pleasure neuron that you still had left. The windows fog up swiftly and drip with pheremones even your second head is, for a few seconds, left to dribble with some incoherent syllables as both of your minds share the experience of smooching with squirrel. A few extra... parts, of you, 'click' into being, a second tailhole and a second pussy wedging in besides the initial first. The pouch of your sheath bulking forward with a penis you never really realized you had before, the twitching of a new boner from being -actually- horny. The kiss breaks just as the bumper of his car nudges the garbage bin in front of your house, sticky strands of saliva bridging his lips and yours. Dazed he may be, he still deftly unbuckles and scoops you into his arms to emerge from the car - driver's side - his six foot cockhead the last head to leave the vehicle as he carries you to your house. Sypress She's only aware of the changes in the most vague sense despite the intensity, such is the effect of the kiss from the squirrel. Her hips lift as her asscheeks are forced apart to accommodate two thick-rimmed puckers that even Reno would be proud of, if she knew who Reno was. Her engorged labia only serves to further heighten her arousal as she presses in against Balros, straddling that tremendous, pulsing erection of his in an effort to squeeze herself closer even before he's fully out of the car, painting the immense girth in a slick layer of estrus so potent that even the local pets are being subjected to batty-hermification, sheaths thudding to the ground, heavy with fat, knotty dicks or spectacularly barbed feline cocks, depending on what they were in their past life. Now they were simply more bats, breeding and spreading out of control even as Balros lugged his gushing, obviously-in-heat prize towards the house. The effects are so profound that the string of words that emerged from one mouth was utterly incoherent, only to be silenced as she quickly exchanged one saliva-slicked muzzle for another. "Hrrrmmfh... Empty. So empty." She breathed, the heavy paunch of her belly pressing up against the squirrel, hips widening out into proper birthing hips befitting a bat of her stature, utterly obscuring most of the middle portion of Balros. And the upper portion. That was more by way of her tits. All six of them. Balros He can tell through the fluttering of your eyes and the flustered looks on your sweet faces that even a batty as profound as you is still tender and relatively new at all this - with one palm heft-cupping your plumping buttcheeks, fingertips gently stirring against the puffy rings of your sensitive fuck-me-now tailholes, teasing both your prostates to take up more room. He seems to move with little problem with his towering erection, even using it to help lug you indoors, leaning your lap against it to grrrrind on his hot pink pillar to free up his hand to get the door. Briefly, your twin cunts are spread apart as they hot-dog his shaft, the sensation sending waves upon waves of "I'm a girl" hormones to both your brains. Girlish squeaks escaping the lips of former pets and urban wildlife as breasts and pussies are bestowed same as sheaths and the nuts to fuel them. Snuggling you to his floofy-furred chest, both your heads on either side of his as he uses his one free hand to turn the doorknob, he hears your breathing quickening and emotions start to pour out. Your breasts filling and fattening full and mommy-read over his shoulders and against his forearms - and under his arms too as your third pair grows in. Pushing the door open with his footpaw, he turns around to walk in backwards, pulling his medicine-ball sized nuts and seven foot cock into the house in a manageable way - scraping off the gull-girl-turned-bat-herm that had managed to perch on his prick as he was fiddling with your butt. Closing the door with a swoosh of his tail, he finds you're clinging to him too tightly for him to put you down. Grinding, pressing, squeezing in, his powerful musk of exertion catalyzing you further and further. "Hey, hey, we're, uh, home now." He gulps, half his face hidden by your incessant cheek-rubbing. The stairs leading up are getting hosed down by gouts of your buttery estrus, your heat deepening. Sypress Every part of her seems to surge with voluptuousness, each pulse from her rapidly-beating heart only serving to further saturate her body in the cocktail of breeding hormones that were quickly overriding any and all thoughts, steaming off of her even as Balros carried her to the door, her heads busying themselves with a back-and-forth kiss that left her panting for breath. Breath that was filled with more squirrel and more bat with every passing second. She could swear he was sweating testosterone at this point, even if she didn't know the word for it. It only coaxed her to lift her hips higher, her twin cunts taking turns in grinding themselves down against his burgeoning erections. "Home?" She breathed, taking a chance to peek over her shoulder, doing her best to ignore the throb against the back of her sexes as her burgeoning prostates took up more and more space within the increasingly limited confines of her body. If she had a proper taint, it would be pulsing against his cock with such fierce intensity and warmth that even Rykela might notice. "Home.." The other head mumbled around the never-ending kiss, two of her four arms wrestling down those monstrous, four-foot erections jutting from her sheaths while a third and fourth pair of breasts blossomed from her chest. Her thoughts were hazy. She felt far too hot, but she didn't care, not even when rivulets of pheromone-infused sweat rolled from her tan fur, staining whatever it touched with her unavoidable scent. "Is this... Breeding?" "No..." "Yes?" She argued with herself, each head eventually reduced to mumbling nonsense, moaning in protest each time the kiss had to be broken to share with the other. Balros *Every kiss to squirrel, the addiction deepens. Every sniff of his scent more chock-full of pheremones than the last and converting squeaky lungs into fuming factories of the stuff, tinging your breath with pink. Every time he pet you or stroked you with an oversized handpaw, it left your muscles aching and adding comforting layers of breedy batty padding and perhaps a few new vertebre or joints to help you contort as comfortably as possible with your massive, hyperdense frame. Your own hormone-laced sweat and musk having a backfire effect on you, giving you more than what you're leaking out. "Home." He repeats for you, as your four powerful erections are soon slung on either side of his hips and waistline. "Not breeding yet, sweetie." He chrrrs calmly and reassuringly to you, somehow not slipping on the pre-birthing slime spewing from your pussies, or leaking from your tailholes, under your four furred-up armpits... or even the fresh gouts of boybatty batter that furiously unloads from your fat erections. Every part of your body surging towards an orgasmic state of... of just fucking cumming forever. Step by step, every other step he turns his muzzle to smooch your other head, bouncing back and forth between your lil' muzzles as if to keep some tiny shred of your remaining sanity continually off-balance until you're where you're supposed to be. Which, likely in your mind, is not the bathtub. He didn't take you to bed, instead sliding into the nicely tiled (and forbiddingly titanic) ball-room-estate sized bathing chamber. The only place that was ever big enough for you to masturbate in properly. But this time, you're not here to masturbate. You can feel it in your aching wombs - you're here to be actually bred. Finally. Finally. Sypress As if on cue, she has all four hands against the tiled wall, pink mist positively roiling from her muzzle to spill into the shower. Her gushing pussies are on fully display, held open by a sixth pair of thick-digit paws that match the rest of her growing bulk. "Home." She says, both muzzles breathing out the word simultaneously, a rush of memories flooding into her mind. She remembers her orgasmic birth, of her parents fucking even as she spilled out of that gaping, cock-reamed cunt, her first weeks gorging herself nonstop on milk and then... Balros! And school? Maybe? Her mind clears just as quickly as the memories arrived, replaced by a singular purpose. Breed. Before Balros can take the initiative, the bat is reaching back with two hands, fighting down her quad erections with three more, and bracing herself against the wall with the last, all in an effort to guide that seven-foot erection where it belongs. Pink mist floods from her muzzles as she gazes back over her shoulders, the cloud quickly condensing into rivulets of concentrated breeding pheromones on every surface colder than herself. She's becoming more voluptuous with every passing moment, dense fur spilling from her armpits, rising into a burgeoning bush at her crotch, and adorning the crease of her nutsack from front to back in a display that betrays her rapidly progressing puberty. "Breed?" She asks, both heads lilting the word at Balros. An invitation~ Balros Tingling pulses ripple down your limbs every now and then, new muscles and lots of new nerve endings tangling with your existing sets, to emerge with gentle kriks as new fingers, or new plump toes. Every new hand, every new leg, each wing and all of your erogenous zones alight with the pleasurable joy of existence. The squirrel gives a cheery smile and a friendly wave as your faces are awash in recognition and rememberence - that crystalizes in that singular, all-producing thought of mating. The squirrel;s thickbig toes curl and smush against the tile floor as hhhhheeeaven itself wraps snugly around his prominent pink pillar, coaxing a twelve-inch growth spurt to surge up his shaft and stretch the battygirl so sweetly, too sweetly, she's singing so nicely. A fog of pink billows like gas canisters from his sheathfur and under his tail, briefly so fucking virulent and potent that for an instant, both the batty's front teeth are prominently bucked, then reverting back to fruitnibbler fangs upon her next exhale. His gaze meets both of yours, each other drinking in the expressions and enjoyment of the other. Stepping forward, yard after yard of boy enters mile after mile of hermgirl, walking himself into her and growing like a freight train. His balls remain behind him - stacking up and rounding bigger, and bigger, and water-tower fuller as he closes the distance to your ass and squishes bulky sheath against the three remaining needy fucktunnels. The motion ends as his handpaws smoothly slip around your enormous booty to grip around the thinnist portion of your waist on your second set of legs. He leans in close to whisper to both heads at the same time, kissing between your necks.