FA: ~Dead_Monsoon
Discord & Telegram: mobydawuf
Hypnovember 2023, Day 27: One for All(Biker Dragon TF)
Themes: biker gear / gooey takeover / orgy / multi-penetration / hivemind
Word count: 2,130
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Just get in there, buy a water bottle, get out. 

That’s what you told yourself, while scampering into the convenience store at a remote gas stop.

It didn’t need to turn into some kind of altercation.

It could’ve been just a minute, tops. In and out, over and done with. 

But nope. It couldn’t be that easy.

Maybe the sight of just shy of half a dozen freakishly large motorcycles parked in a row by the building should’ve been a sign to you. 

Or… maybe it should’ve been the group of hulking dragons clad head to toe in weird orange and black gear, standing in line at the counter.

No, don’t get into their business… just do your thing. Don’t start anything.

But then you grab your bottle, and your stomach drops as you realize you’re going to have to get in line behind them.

And they don’t seem to be in much of a hurry.

In fact… they don’t even seem to be holding anything. Maybe the one in front is doing all the items for them? Not that you can get a good view from way in the back, with these towering backs in the way.

You could go around, just to look… but what if it looks like you’re cutting…?  Terrified to provoke them in any way, you just step into the line, staying a good 3 feet clear of the dragon in front of you.

You stand there, fidgeting nervously and trying to stay silent. Maybe you should just leave, try another place… but fuck, your throat is so parched. And you’re already IN line, after all.

With nothing to do, you can’t help but examine those… outfits again… gods, what is going ON there? They’re clearly extremely dedicated to this one look, pure black with bright orange accents… the thing is, it’s their ENTIRE bodies. Not only that, but they’re… AGGRESSIVELY shiny. Every inch of them seems to catch every light source in the room. All… rubber, then…?

You didn’t pay much attention when coming in, but… you suppose they have to have their faces covered, too…? It’s just so bizarre. Why would anyone need to be so thorough? A costume of some sort?

And GOD, what a stench… even if you couldn’t see or hear them, you’d KNOW they were close by based on that alone.

You don’t even notice that you’d crept closer without even realizing it, to get a better look. The only hint that you get is something smooth brushing your legs.

The tail of the dragon in front of you, which was idly swaying back and forth, but now tenses up in reaction.

Shit-!

He turns around, and a pair of glowing, pure-yellow eyes immediately focuses on you. No, not eyes… lenses of a mask. A form-fitting, ferocious-looking rubber  dragon-shaped mask without a trace of humanity in it.

So it really is just… a full-body thing, huh.

Somehow, that’s the last coherent thought that crosses your mind before… everything goes fuzzy.

Did you just go into shock? Or did they… do something to you? Either way… what happens next is a blur. You vaguely recall trying to run off, getting hounded, dragged…

You come to again. 

You’re in a filthy, if surprisingly large public restroom, on your knees. Naked.

And 5 beefy, rubbery biker dragons stand in a half-circle in front of you.

You stare back up, terrified, at 5 sets of passionless, pristine masks all gazing down on you in turn.

Their discordant huffs and puffs ring even louder, in this enclosed space with no other noise to compete with. And of course, that rubber stench pervades the air more than ever.

Thoughts fail you. What would they do for you, anyway? It’s not like you could slip past them. Or fight, or resist in anyway. You’re helpless now.

There’s nothing you can do but sit and wait…

The one in the middle unzips his jockstrap. You hadn’t even noticed a zipper there…

Next thing you know, a large cock is hanging out right in front of you. Smooth and shiny, remarkably girthy, an unnatural pure black sheen.

It doesn’t even look like a sleeve or a condom. Far as you can tell, that IS this thing’s cock.

Then, those so-called full-body… suits that they’re wearing…

Questions dissolve from your mind as the dragons on either side of the middle one each reach out with one hand, perfectly coordinated, to grasp your shoulders and hold you in place. You find yourself whining as they then forcibly pry your mouth open with their other hands, their thick clawed digits hooking into your mouth. Leaving it wide open in invitation.

The center dragon steps up with heavy footfalls. He grips your skull with both hands, allowing the others to pull away, and thrusts straight in.

Shudders and gags wrack your body as your gums struggle to process what they’re feeling. It plunges in deep, lodging into the back of your throat right away. You feel all but paralyzed under the sheer stimulation. You also feel some sort of… fluid gushing into your mouth. What on earth is… happening…?

As if that wasn’t enough to process, four more zippers go down in tandem. Four more flawless, sleek black dragon dicks.

Your terror reaches its climax, awaiting their further wrath… then, something you didn’t expect.

Something is shoved onto your face. A transparent yellow visor, plastered over your eyes, immersing your entire field of view in a strong tint.

Then… spirals. Furious patterns. Helplessly transfixing.

As the center one goes to town, they all fan out into positions as though they’ve rehearsed it to perfection. It strikes you how uncannily coordinated they are, without saying a word. How do they do it…?

Two of them march around behind you, past your sight. The other two move in to flank the center dragon, their own cocks waiting patiently.

A pair of hands from behind grips your chest in a tight full-body grip, keeping your whole body save for you legs suspended in the air, in a perfectly horizontal position.

A second cock flops onto, then grinds against your back, almost playful. A-At least it’s not inside you…

The other one behind you clutches your haunches, apparently having gotten to his knees. Not a good sign for you.

The first dragon abruptly pulls out, leaving your mouth gaping and dripping profusely. You barely manage half a gasp before the dragon on the right reaches out to grip your scalp, and forcibly turn you in his direction. The next instant, another cock rams its way in. It’s every bit as overwhelming as the first one, naturally.

At the same time, you feel your rear ruthlessly penetrated by yet another dragon dick. It’s not as earth-shatteringly intense as you might’ve expected, but it still hits you HARD. 

Beneath the strain of being a captive spit-roast, and the relentless hypnosis bearing down on you… your cognition is starting to break down.

After about a dozen thrusts, the dragon on the left takes a turn. You don’t even get two seconds to pause in between cocks, nor even attempt to close your mouth against their advances.

Every penetration is a thick gooey squelch. There’s DEFINITELY something filling up your maw, some sort of goo. Your gag reflex eventually gives out, and the stuff slides down your throat unimpeded, slamming the vomit your body just attempted to expel straight back down.

You distantly feel your own cock throbbing, but that sensation is secondary.

The middle dragon goes again. On and on with their rotation…

Suddenly, multiple spluuurts! fill the air. All at once, the three dragon dicks inside or against you eject loads of sludge, inside and outside. And your body has no choice but to take it.

It’s clearly not enough for them, though. They’re highly animated, not slowing their advances for an instant. They’re not done with you yet, not by a long shot.

And so they continue with that same brutal treatment, on and on and on. Every so often they rotate positions, but always there’s three in front, two in back.

Two inside your body at a time, one on top of it. All periodically spraying more goo onto you, inside of you.

Ever so gradually, the goo takes to your body. From out of your maw and ass, from the center of your back, it spreads. A thick layer of shiny black covering your prone form.

You’re becoming one of them, you faintly realize. You’re not sure when you reached that conclusion.

You gave up thinking a long time ago. 

All you can do is be along for the ride.

Somewhere along the way, the three in front step it up even further. The one in center goes on using your maw, while the other two…

They come close, and ram straight into your ears simultaneously with a deafening impact.

You can FEEL it piercing your brain from both sides, throwing your chemistry into complete chaos. Straining every part of you that they touch to its limit.

Shouldn’t be possible. But you’re certainly in no condition to question.

All five of them… touching you deeply all at once.

Your body spasms like it’s being electrocuted.

You mind is done for.

As your very identity deconstructs, you feel a strange… bond growing.

You feel the pack calling to you.

In the remains of who you were, a new personality is being constructed. 

A stoic and impassive one, identical to your packmates.

You will enjoy this.

-

3 hours later, one final spurt coats what remains of your lips.

And as the cock pulls out for what must be the hundredth time, your mask… your face… fully forms into a familiar dragon snout, distinctly artificial and no longer open for business.

Your head is closed up completely now; your ears have long since sealed up under thick latex. But not before prolonged cock ravaging managed to leave you with a loud, pulsing sound lingering forever in your ears, dulling your mind even further.

Your new horns stand proud atop your scalp, incorporated directly into the “suit” of course.

Finally, the last cock pulls out of your ass, which remains wide open as a round puckered toy-hole; albeit now somewhat hidden behind your new thick rubber tail, which sways gently just like the others.

The five of them return to their lineup in front of you with stiff marches, leaving you alone to slowly rise to your feet, for the first time in your new life. Your own heavy footfalls provide a good bit of stabilization for your once turbulent mind.

You dully admire your new form.

Your perfectly shiny, sterile, squeaky black skin.

Your built-in biker gear, accented with bright orange.

Your burlier figure, enhanced with pure rubber.

Your perfect dragon face, eyes replaced with impassive yellow lenses, fused with the visor.

And finally, your fully rubber cock, having gone unattended this entire time, stands up ramrod straight, eager for attention.

Your pack mates nod in unison.

Your stance doesn’t change in the slightest as you clutch your shaft with both gloved hands, and give it a few solid jerks. Save for your accelerated huffs, nothing changes in your disposition…

Regardless of how explosive the pleasure within you becomes, as you finally cum, with all your enhanced might.

No, not just pleasure. Calm. Stillness. Purpose, even.

Your new destiny awaits.

Your load of pure black launches, splattering the three in front of you. They remain impassive and still as part of it is assimilated directly into their forms, while the excess drips onto the floor, creating a misshapen puddle.

Would be a shame if someone stepped in that.

Your conversion complete, you reach for the zipper on your crotch, as if second nature, and zip yourself right up. The others do the same, perfectly in sync.

External impulses cyclically seep in and out of your mind. A neural link connects your minds together… forming a hive-mind. Binding you to the same one-track thought process, as a unit.

Simple thoughts. Ride, explore, indulge, seek recruits. Not much beyond that.

A few minutes later, you all step out of the convenience store together, in three rows of two… a new formation now that there’s the right number of you.

Your postures are perfectly straight, your walk imposing but calm.

The row of large bikes are there… six of them. 

You absently glance toward the fuel pumps, surrounded by parking spots. Not a car in sight.

Nothing anomalous about that. You have what you need, after all.

Without a sound, save for endless huffs and squeaks, you hop onto your bikes one by one, with as much grace and poise as if you’d done it your whole life.

Time to ride.