~The Inexplicable Attraction of Cubophilia - Introduction~
Two lives, two separate paths that eventually converge. Even though they are two different people, Nakka and Alex connect through the shared bond of cubophilia. And it is this bond which would see them become firm friends, the only thing being firmer is their hands around their cocks as they talk about all the sexy cubs in the tribe.
Life is bliss when talking about their shared interest in cubophilia. It is so natural: to a point where they think that their attraction to cubs is almost as natural as breathing.
This is the life of a beastman - a man who is still bound by his instincts, part animal, and he is all the better for it.
As we are well aware, however, some men will choose to hide this part of themselves away, whereas others, what some readers will deem 'true men', such as Alex - wear their attractions on their sleeves.
Nakka is a well distinguished dragon mercenary - hailing from a family which placed rules and order above all else. Alex is a degenerate wolf that was immediately penetrated by his father as soon as he escaped the womb. Their minds may be set up differently, but there is no resisting the ultimate taboo.
Indeed, such a taboo would make many quiver in fear at the slight mention of it, or maybe give them cause to raise arms, but every man's cock twitches as soon as he hears the word: "Cubophile".
Behind closed doors, men surrender themselves to these taboos, that they may indulge in their darkest of fantasies. Alex will see to it that these fantasies are made real - cubs to be fucked, black cock to be sucked, and mare pussy made to be bred.
This justice of 'cubophila' is something that will be enacted upon Nakka; his barriers, torn apart, his morals: non-existent.
~The Inexplicable Attraction of Cubophilia~
When they first met, Nakka and Alex were infatuated with each other. Nakka is a travelling mercenary, his sword sold to whomever he may be in service to. Alex is the wolf tribe leader, his 'sword', more than usually, balls deep in some cub he barely remembers the name of.
But, when they looked at each other, these men knew of a hidden message. A deep pact, one that is shared amongst all men who walk this earth.
…Cubophilic tendencies.
While Nakka may go on a tirade about how he felled hundreds of soldiers on the battlefield, the only types of tales that Alex has to tell is about the time he learnt of the fox's age as he whispered it out around his cock one time, or the amount of cubs he can seduce all at once, as if he's some kind of succubus. Because, while Nakka's tales and adventures across this world may be fanciful and full of colour, it is Alex's experience which speaks pure truth. Nakka just fails to mention the times where he's used the captured children in a recently-raided town for his sexual satisfaction. Or the fact that he purposefully kills the mothers and leaves the fathers watching for when he wants to impregnate some kid pussy. But that is a deep, dark secret, you see. A secret which must not be wrested from his mouth for so long as he lives.
…Or so he may say.
Alex will prove to change that. Like a kindle to a flame, he will bare Nakka's cubophilia to the world, and have him conquer those flames, in the hopes that it would make him as much of a man as the studly wolf he sees before him.
Speaking of the 'studly wolf' – when Nakka first saw Alex, he was in naught but his loincloth, rendering his hairy body, powerful legs, and breathtaking form open to the elements, or, more specifically, open to Nakka's eyes taking in the sight of a true man, drinking deep of the masculinity before him.
Alex, meanwhile, could only think one thing.
"This is a fucking nigger dragon."
Well-accustomed to the hard R, Alex would soon describe any dark-scaled man he sees before him as a 'muthafucking nigga man', just without the lips popping as he imitates the black person's speech.
But Nakka is not as black as he would have you believe, Alex is just highly racist. Yes, it is the true, the dragon has black scales, but does that make him a nigger? Well, if you ignore your throbbing cock, then no. But if you do heed your erection as you read that word on the screen, then fuck yeah it does. And yeah, he's hella into bling bling rap n' all that kinda shit. He can barely speak, but when he does, he spits everywhere, like a fish.
(Are you satisfied yet, raceplay gooner?)
Sharing this 'unspoken chemistry' (for lack of a better term), Alex and Nakka (aka 'the muthafucking nigga dragon', for you whities out there) soon arranged a meeting.
And yes, it was to do with cubs.
But Nakka, the closeted cubophilie he is, was not aware of the wolf's ulterior motives. He thinks of it only to be a welcoming into the wolf's native tribe and, sure, it will be, but it'll definitely be traditional. And there's nothing that screams more traditional than going balls deep in some fucking kids just for the fun of it. As a man.
–Days later, when Alex finally persuaded Nakka to visit his tribe…
In the tribe's pool, the two men sat back and watched as a bunch of cubs frolicked about the tribe in groups, all of them playing with each other, their shouts and screams making the mens' cocks ungodly erect.
Nakka's face tensed as he could smell Alex's wolf musk in the air, his cock only getting harder from being in the presence of such a masculine stud and world renowned cub fucker. Nakka mostly only has experience with making pussies pregnant, not making cubs walk on one foot after an encounter in the tribe leader's den. Though something tells the dragon he'd pick up cub fucking as if it was known to him many years prior - after all, that is just part of his natural instinct as a man.
"Cubs are sexy, man, and I want you to accept that fact." Alex cooed out in Nakka's ear, his beard brushing against the man's smooth scaled face. Nakka grunted, at first trying to ignore Alex's obvious advances, but broke within seconds, crashing his lips against the older wolf's.
"Let me be a cubophile with you." He moaned, his voice a few octaves higher than it should be.
The two men made out ravenously, as if they were just sating their own hunger. Their hunger for another man that understands the same…
Alex chuckled, his deep voice vibrating in his chest, pulling away from Nakka's kiss, allowing the dragon to turn around in the water and face the man fully. The two quickly dove into another passionate kiss, tongues entwining before they pulled apart, panting heavily for air.
Nakka's hand combed through the wolf's hairy chest as the two men shared their love of cubs together by way of appreciating each other's bodies.
"Good times, eh?" Alex whispered.
Nakka cannot shake away the fact that he feels this man is incredibly experienced with taking men under his wing, much less young ones.
The wolf sighed loudly, sitting back in the water, perching his fine meaty ass upon the rocks (what, you thought I could've just said 'ass' and be done with it? Spare me, all male wolves are caked up to high hell, and we're making no mention of the hairs on Alex's asscheeks yet!).
Nakka watched on with quiet curiosity. The life of a tribe leader must be much different compared to a mercenary - like night and day, in fact.
He feels like he's missed out on so much.
To a spectator's eye, the dragon looks oddly sheepish next to that proud hunk of a male wolf.
"So, what about kids do you like?" Alex asked confidently, uncaring to the fact that other men could be hearing his conversation right now.
("What the fuck bro?! How can you just say that?!")
Nakka looked startled as soon as he heard Alex's bold words booming out of his throat, but just by looking around the encampment, he noticed how the other men didn't so much as look in his general direction in response to those filthy, taboo-laden words leaving the wolf's lips. In fact, they're probably used to openly talking about their attraction to cubs with fellow perv brothers. Alex swam close to Nakka, so that his body was pressing against his. Maybe a bit of persuasion is in order.
"You can tell me, man. Us men 'get it', you know what I mean?"
Nakka looked uneasy; unsure of himself, as if he needed a little more push.
"Yeah…?" His voice was meek, like a whimper. But it was like a line waiting to be crossed.
"I get it, man. Cubophilia is etched into our fucking DNA. And it ain't just a wolf thing, you know. It's a man thing."
Somehow, Alex saying all that made Nakka's cock throb like nothing else.
He's right. Deep down, instinctively, this wolf is fucking right.
And it turns him on like nothing else.
("Yes, I wanna talk cubs with you Alex, I wanna bate so hard until I feel nothing of my cock anymore. I want… to be with you.")
Suddenly, Nakka was overwhelmed with a tingling sensation all over his body.
He hasn't felt it in quite some time, but he thinks it's love.
At this point, what else would it be?
That wolf who makes himself so known to the world, as if he blind to the consequences of what he espouses and what he creates… It's a nigh unreachable level of pride. And something to be commended.
***
Interim scene: Alex and the dire fate of the panther toddlers
At this point, Alex has moved onto different prey. Although it is expected of a predator to move onto bigger and better prey, Alex much prefers his prey being smaller and squirmier. It is for this reason he is balls deep in countless panther toddlers, using them like fleshlight pockets, their holes used only as a device to suck the cum out of his dick, their bodies battered and broken as soon as this wolf shoved his 8 inch uncut meat in there. Their young fur - as short as one would expect, gleaming in the sunlight, casting off a beautiful, fine sheen. Alex often uses the toddlers' fur as a cum rag, to wipe off the excess cum after he's done using their holes -- and, if there's blood, well, that's just par for the course.
To say that he is a mere visitor, Alex has made himself known in this tribe almost like he's the leader. Nakka often watches with vapid interest as he sees the wolf slowly sink into another screaming toddler hole -- the young panther's screams quickly dying out when the wolf stuffs his fat fingers in its always-salivating mouth. At this point, the dragon is sure it's an addiction. An addiction to toddler holes. But can you really blame him, though? In just two days, Alex has used (and, at times, killed) the whole tribe's offspring, and offspring that was recently created at that.
And he's not even showing a hint of remorse. Is all for his cock's pleasure.
"Dude!" Alex shouts out over to Nakka, but he soon descends into groans when he feels that tiny hole wrapped around his fat dick.
~The Young and Hung Cub Gooner~
(no, not a teen) https://www.furaffinity.net/view/51158225/
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Ever heard of scalie superiority? The type of words that would soon leave a certain wolf's lips as soon as he casts his eyes upon anything scaly and muscly…
Yeah, well, there's a reason why he says that.
Not only because scalies tend to be the most based people on the planet, but also because all of them he's encountered thus far have the most fattest cocks.
You see, if you just happen across a wolf or fox sona, you'd just think "normie as fuck, get that shit away from my face", but the second you lay your eyes upon a dragon, its like the whole world stops and admires them in tandem. This is because, naturally, scalies are superior. They are the better beings. The men which have lived inexplicably long lives, and accrued a vast amount of knowledge as a result… and a whole host of kinky depraved fetishises, that even the most detailed and customised page of f-list would not be able to do themselves justice.
Such a dragon I describe of is Tyler, a young man who has just discovered cub porn. And no, much to the reader's surprise, he is not a teenager. Rather, he is a young man in his 20s who has taken one too many wrong turns on the Internet and now finds himself balls deep in the favourites page of Bandit's CubLovers.net profile.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
It was supposed to be a quick fap session, but now he's stopping himself from busting a load to seeing a little cub getting cum blown on his face from his gruff father off screen.
Tyler has always been the biggest fan of Alex's videos on CubLovers.net, but one stands out above the rest.
"Wolf tribe leader shows a little kid what cock is"
The video begins with a dimly lit bedroom, Alex is sprawled along a rugged and feathered bed like he's some kind of royalty.
–
In changing room - unfinished fantasy scene
"Yeah, sure, I'm gonna change his diaper." The man chuckled, emphasising the last part.
Once the diaper was torn away, his pristine white ass was exposed to the world.
The father grunted in his throat, his rock hard cock flexing in his jeans.
To add coal to the fire, now the sound of other babies screaming in the adjacent rooms was heard.
Daddy whipped out his cock and got to work, already hard in seconds from the toddler ass just hanging there, like a fruit. Looking too fat and meaty for its own good.
–
~Eye Candy - Introduction~
Much can be said of the 'fountain of youth', but all these tales of handsome young men, where one can find them, seem to make no mention of their modest muscularity, or their boyish voices - creeping ever closer to adulthood with every passing day, yet failing to heed the interested and passioned glances of middle-aged men that see them out and about.
Sporty teen boys. This is Torran's vice, a gym-hitting wolf that looks half the part of a 17 year old himself, were it not for his scratchy chin stubble, his towering frame, and his voice so deep that you would think it to come from the bottommost reaches of hell.
But, one day, his usual workout is interrupted by something that can only be described as a miracle.
Torran was in a world of his own. He doesn't know exactly when the gym room started to fill with teens in their prime, but he's not going to complain about it. In fact, he's fairly certain he's the oldest person here now, as evident by the room filling up with the sound of boyish voices, or maybe a few 'jock macho' teens that artificially deepened their voice to appear manlier, only for Torran to look at them and see barely a few hairs growing off their chins. Shit, he's a fucking perv. You see, he's already well built up himself, and he does indeed enjoy going to the gym, but he'd be lying if he didn't say the main reason for all this was because it was smack bang next to a high school.
Now that he's in the midst of his 20s, Torran looks back on his teen years with fondness, and he feels a pang of jealously every time he sees a teen's biceps that look bigger than his future. Jokes aside, he has no idea why kids look so fucking hot nowadays. Maybe it's his old(er) age, or maybe it is simply perspective, but there is no doubt in his mind…
Once you're a pervert, you can't stop it. You just get worse as you're older. The only thing you can do is doing what Torran is doing here, looking at a bunch of mildly buff boys, their big arms out on show, in tank tops looking a size too small for them, while they mess about the gym, mostly bantering and awkwardly groping each other's crotches instead of actually lifting weights. Torran has to hold back his drool. In fact, the look he's giving them right now is one of love, as if he was the 60 year old man in the neighbourhood that kids are told to stay away from. But no, he's 24 years old, absolutely cum-brained, and just itching to go over there and feel up a teen's smooth abs.
"Ah, fuck it." He mouthed, throwing his towel down and marching over there to get a piece of teen pedo pride for himself.
The teenagers all looked at him with uneasy eyes as soon as the wolf stepped over there, cause, you know, he's way older, he's literally bare shirtless in front of a bunch of barely-18 year-olds, and he looks like he's sweating up a storm, his chest still heaving up and down even as he stands still. Torran's furry muscles shine in the sunlight, and pretty much awakened the latent homosexuality in these so-called 'straight as fuck' teen jocks. Torran isn't old enough to fit the stereotype of 'ye olde sexual predator' yet, but, hell, just one look at him and you just know he's gay, even though he doesn't look the least bit promiscuous. And you know what they say about gay guys, specifically horny ones in their 20s without a partner… Yeah, they're all secret pervs. Moving on. Well, 'secret pervs', as in, they cum to a fair few twink jerk off videos, specifically the ones with the title 'teen jerks off' on them, way more than they care to admit… Torran is one such gay man, embracing the beauty of youth.
If you're a pervert, you just get worse as you're older. Torran has accepted this. You can try to fight it, but it'll always be there. The lust for a younger partner.
"So, what are you guys up to?" Torran happily asked the group as he threw his towel over his shoulder, his white fangs glinting as he smirked. The epitome of 'how are you doing, fellow kids'?
"Um… Nothing much." The leader of the group, a golden labrador, mumbled. He cast his eyes to the floor.
Torran took this opportunity to shoot a look at the rest of the group -- they're all canines, and fuck, they look fucking sexy.
(If enough 'fucks' in that sentence wasn't evident enough to describe how arousing these teenage boys are on first sight, I point towards all gay furry twunk art created and bid you imagine just that).
Now it was Torran's turn to act nervous. His throat dried up as he couldn't believe he was in such close proximity to his regular gooning material.
"U-um, christ…" He coughed a little, looking to the side. A blush rose on his cheeks. Yep, this adult wolf is getting smitten for younger teens. You can't make this shit up. Is a restraining order necessary, or will he find a way to turn this teen love into his favour?
("Control yourself, Torran. Control yourself.")
Jesus, but he can't. His mind is going a million miles a minute.
"Do we smell?" One guy asked.
As soon as he said that, Torran's first intrusive thought was:
("Oh fuck yeah you do. Let me breathe in that rancid musk, you young hunk.")
It seemed that these boys appeared far more genuine in the presence of an… adult (christ, it's hitting home to me what I'm writing here).
Torran waved his hands, forgoing his train of thought.
"N-No, not at all… I mean, yes, but it's not bad."
That comment raised more than a few eyebrows from the lads.
Torran could sense the unease in the air. He could also smell the Axe cologne mixed with pure teen funk, and practically taste their cum-pungent crotches. Jesus, make that into a deodorant. Pretty sure you'll make all the pervs happy in the world if you do that -- though usually a spray of a 'jock' or 'sports' cologne on a well-built, handsome chiselled twunk is enough to seal the deal and get the roleplay going.
–A few moments later, where Torran gets friendly with the barely legal teen boys…
Torran snaked his hand under the teenager's tank top, feeling his hot, smooth skin. He could feel absolutely no hair on the labrador. He may be a dog, but he's built like a wolf. Like Legoshi. Torran moved his hand down to rub the boy's flat, taut stomach which flexed in anticipation from his searching fingers. He felt so firm down there, so well built.
"Hrgh... Christ. I've never felt anything so arousing before in my life than what I'm doing right now." Torran admitted, his face the picture of concentration.
The teen rested his forehead against the older man's as the wolf got a good feel up of his young Adonis form.
"I'm so glad I'm gay." They both admitted. The two of them looked in each other's eyes, aware that they've just said the same thing. The boy let out a small smile of acknowledgement.
"You want it, don't you?" Torran whispered, aware he's breaking the ultimate taboo. But one fact justifies it all.
"I want it." The teenager's voice was low and gravely, an adult sound coming from a boy's body.
"Fuck yeah you do." Torran replied in a similar low tone.
He felt the boy's hips grinding against him as he slid his hands down to grope at his firm asscheeks, feeling quite thick and firm even through his grey sweatpants. He felt the teen's growing erection against his own through their clothes.
Torran grumbled, pushing his crotch back, delighting in the feeling of underaged dick against his own.
"Don't tell me you're hung as fuck too. It ain't fair, you kids are way too hot." He said with a growl as he squeezed the boy's asscheeks again.
The teenager kissed his mate's neck ravenously.
"Yeah... I'm really hung. I'm just glad you're hung as well, daddy."
The wolf shuddered at this new title.
"Fuck! I don't know if I like that…"
Now it was the Labrador's turn to get what he wants.
"I know you like that. I know you do. You want a son like me, don't you?"
Torran winced at the accuracy of the boy's words.
"You want to adopt just so you can watch your son grow up to be a teen twink, don't you?" He added, his words like daggers, although they are lust-filled.
"Alright alright!" Torran shouted.
"That's enough! I wanna get it on with a kid!"
There was silence for a few seconds, as Torran was registering what he just said.
As a shiver went up his body, but he didn't feel disgust. He felt pride.
("Yeah, I wanna get it on with a kid…") He repeated, in his head.
Such is the way of wolves - of all canines.
They're depraved pedophiles.
"Wanna frot?" The teen offered, bouncing Torran back to reality.
His dick twitched at the thought of stacking up his fully grown meat against a kid which has a few more years to grow, but has probably outmatched him anyway.
"Fuck. Sure."
In record time, the labrador whipped his cock out from his grey sweatpants, his big balls just resting above the band.
"Peekaboo."
–
~The Gamer Fox who Loves Fortnite - Introduction~
Fusky is not your average gamer fox. Nay, instead of joining a random ass Discord voice chat, and whimpering, 'umm'ing and 'aww'ing at shatteringly-high pitches at his microphone (as a typical fox is wont to do), Fusky rages.
He doesn't mess about.
He states the truth in every situation.
He's here to have fun, get his nut, and go the fuck to bed afterwards.
The only difference is, that on weekends, he likes smoking a bit of pot too.
Dude's just your average 20-something year old furry, really. A man who's in the middle of finding himself - but damn well enjoying his current interests and state of affairs anyway. Sometimes, Fusky loves life. But even the sweetest of days can turn sour the moment anyone dares to say anything untoward, targeted at him…
He is a single, living-alone 23 year old fox, whose frame is exceedingly well muscular for a so-called 'fleshlight fox' (he hates being called that). Fusky would see that no innocent young child is spared his rage when some snarky comments offend him in a video game.
In fact, the assailer of these insults himself will come to rue the day he pissed off a stranger on the Internet, all because he said 'your mom's fat'. Were that cocksleeve- sorry, I mean cub- was to live through the encounter, that is…
If I was to describe this handsome, finely built fox in one sentence, then I would say that Fusky is your average cum-brained horny 23 year old. (Wait, I already said that…).
Except he's a fox, so he's the target of constant scrutiny by wolves, who would see to it that his self-worth and self-image is trodden into the ground. That is not to be, however, as soon as Fusky whips out his massive 9 inch gooner gamer uncut cock, one could easily start to understand where all that gamer rage and sleepless nights comes from. No wonder the dude is addicted to energy drinks. Fusky is damn well near beating it nearly 3 times a day, and it only gets worse the more he thinks about who pissed him off that day, probably talking about how he was a 'subby fox' or some shit. Fuck no. He'll show him. He'll show them who's the daddy fox in town.
Fusky has a muscled, lean form, looking extremely athletic and well built. Still, given that he is a fox, he retains some of his skinniness, but for all intents and purposes, Fusky has grown much since his twink teen years. He is now a full on twunk.
One thing Fusky hates is people calling him ‘subby’, misinterpreting his appearance as “faggoty” or “something which must be bred”. He is well aware of the sexual status that foxes have - potrayed as nothing but cocksleeves, able to take horsecocks so large you would wonder if they have any internal organs at all.
But Fusky goes against that fact.
Just one look at his appearance tells all.
But how exactly did Fusky get to the way that he is now? A hateful, scornful little creature who only cares about himself and his cock's desire?
To do that, we would have to turn back time, to when he was twice as horny as he is now, to when he was a teenager.
One day, Fusky discovered a marvellous thing. It's what the Internet calls 'raceplay' porn. At first, he thought it was harmless, that it was just focused worship of the black men in society, just as dark-furred wolves and dark-furred dragons. The stories he read spoke of how they all had thick lips, spoke in a certain tone, and how most of them couldn't even read words off a page even if they tried. At first, Fusky thought nothing of it, that it simply was an author's exaggeration of black men, all to sexualise them even further and make them appear more manly and tribal.
But Fusky never met a black man before. All he knew is that he had a very curious interest about these 'types of people'; young Fusky's eyes often jumping to the saggy, massive bulge in the panther's grey sweatpants as he dealt weed to his dad. Fusky was always along for the ride, and his dad was heavy into drugs, so it makes sense that he'll run into darkies often.
It's just a repressed childhood memory, but those stories unleashed it. Suddenly, everything started to fit together. It started to make sense. Yes, the author's depiction of these black people barely knowing English, smelling like they walked out of a trash can, and scratching their balls more times than they can count is very true indeed. But something never sat quite well with him. The use of the derogatory slur: 'nigger'.
Not only did Fusky consider it wholly unnecessary in his mission to cum to big black cock, constructing a detailed image in his mind with each and every word he reads, as a non-black guy himself, he felt like it was the ultimate sin to say such a word.
But, one day, Fusky said it. He practised it even -- in the comfort of his own room, at the tender age of 15.
And once he started, he couldn't stop.
Now he can only cum to black cock.
~Random Wolf Cub Lover gooning~
All wolves are cub lovers. All wolves are cub lovers. All wolves are cub lovers. Now, keep repeating that, gooner, and don't ever let up. Let that ideal infect your brain. Look upon a canine and immediately think about how he'll force himself upon a child. And don't you fucking think of switching over to some normal porn to get that rock-solid erection going, hell no, you go on e621, search 'male muscular wolf solo facial_hair', and you fucking bate. We don't allow no sissies in this household - and that includes masturbating to men that are below the designated 'DILF age'. If you're jerking off to Legoshi, then you're probably a bit fucked up in the head like me. But if you're jerking off to a handsome, bearded, manly wolf… Then you're a fucking man of culture. Yeah, that's a good lad. You just forget about those dragons and all the fandom favourites now, you don't need them. Lose yourself to wolves and wolves alone. They are the true men in this world - men which are not bound by instinct or moral, men which are very much more beast than sentient. Hell, you and I both know, the best type of wolves are the ones with a hairy chest on em. So you get fucking bating, gooner, and don't you dare stop (unless you're taking a swig of water). And in case you didn't understand me the first time…
NO. FUCKING. BOYS.
NO GIRLS.
JUST MEN.
MANLY MEN.
MEN WITH HAIR ON THEIR CHEST.
MEN WITH VOICES SO DEEP IT VIBRATES THE WALLS.
MEN THAT WILL LEAVE YOU LIMPING.
DADDIES ARE THE ULTIMATE GOON FUEL.
Good boy. Now, you sit back and let daddy wolf whisper a tale in your ear as you goon… Trust me, you'll never forget it.
~Raceplay scene - more thoughtless gooning~
Tyrone the nigger panther just loves to masturbate.
Now, reader, if you've read any of my previous raceplay stories, then I'm sure it's quite hard to imagine these so-called 'people' as anything but animals – masturbation machines, so hell-bent on their own pleasure. But instead of focusing on the stereotypes, the facts that are straight before us, that you can apply to every dark-scaled and dark-furred stud in the land, let us instead talk about their form.
He's in a sleeveless hoodie which barely fits him. His big black arms are out on show, all sweaty with that typical nigger grease (akin to oil) and, of course, sweat. Smells like something is brewing under his pits, and it's certainly a fuckin' stew of ghetto stench, mixed in with his natural panther musk, followed by the slight tinge of cum funk, accrued from beating his cock around 5 times a day, the lazy bastard.
"I'm jus' stroking my shit yo, stroking muh motherfuckin' diiiick n sheit, brudda."
He constantly talks to himself as he masturbates, too.
Wearing only a sleeveless hoodie, his big greasy black arms are out on show, they look so fucking dark that you'd think that freaking Tyrone has sucked out all of the light in this room just from the colour of his fucking skin!
Only his thick blubbering lips and his whiskers can be seen from below his raised hood.
Dude's freaking stroking his horsecock n sheeeeeeeeit.
What a fucking disgrace.
"I fucking love stroking my dick, yo. Jus' kickin' back with muh homies and goin' to town on my shiiiiiit."
Meanwhile, his masturbation sounds like a fucking sludge-fest cacophony of sound.
That's all that niggers know how to do.
The children of Inarna Orphange are often left unattended, much to the excitement of the young ones, who would rather go about their days undisturbed and with as much fun as possible. However, they remain blind to the most obvious threat before them: cubophiles. Inarna is a rural town, in which guards are rarely stationed and services barely staffed. It is for this reason, that men can roam free. Now, I know what you're thinking, 'surely a cubophile would easily make himself known in a place like this'? And that is quite true – but you fail to realise the effect of cubophilia on men: it spreads like a disease. From one wolf to the next.
When such a wolf arrived at the orphanage, the cubs quickly dropped their playthings, and turned around to look at the imposing man in the door: a massive wolf, whose knot is engorged and ready for some kid fucking.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" The wolf licks his lips ravenously. He has done well to fall this far: to a point where the men of the town would look the other way if his favourite cub of the bunch ended up becoming his sex slave.
~ Mr Wolf cub loving ~
https://twitter.com/Daily_MrWolf/status/172808916150724...
Just one look at Mr Wolf's face will make a cub's mind go mush. And this time, I'm not talking about the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed 11 year old fox kits which can barely tell which way is left and which way is right, but instead, the 'cubs' I make mention of are, in fact, teenage boys.
14 years old to be exact. Just discovering their taste in men, these would-be cocksuckers and men-pleasers will certainly have a long journey of wolf simping and cubophile worshipping to go.
~The Holy Lizard~
Right, this is where the raceplay gets nasty, also, be sure to download the doc as it contains pics on what the Holy Lizard looks like, and he's fucking gorgeous <3
Who keeps the peace on the streets? Who keeps the mean people away from daddy's ever-adorable kids?
To be honest, nobody in the town of Fankar quite know the answer to these questions.
Only that, when compared to the beastman capital, this small settlement is a lot more peaceful than the rest.
Its inhabitants: most of their fur colour is anything but black. (Perhaps that will be the first hint for you porn-obsessed, dick-loving readers).
There is a tale shared amongst the working class men of Fankar: that, wherever the looming shadow of degeneracy lurks, the blinding light of the Holy Lizard will be there to stamp it out, to ensure that the light of purity lives forevermore in this otherwise unremarkable settlement.
All of that is to say: there is a vigilante in the midst, and more often than not, his target has a particular colour of fur.
You could call it coincidence when he finds out that this 'degeneracy' indeed lurks in the black-furred beasts he targets all along. Therefore, his role would be to stamp that degeneracy out to ensure that it never lives again…
[Holy lizard pic 1 - download the story on IB to see!]
Just look at his big biceps. Even in the shadow of this weed-stinking alleyway, the reptile god's beautiful Adonis-like form can be seen in this dim light.
His ember eyes glow in the dark. His cigar smoke: like his fiery dragon breath. But this is no mere fantasy creature. He's here in the modern world, dealing with very modern problems. Even in beastman society, nobody is safe from prejudice.
And to look upon him is to look upon pure beauty. A man through and through. No fag shit. No femmy shit. No woke crap. Just pure fucking hard-earned muscles and a handsome face to top it all off. Yeah, the dude is a fucking legend alright.
When you look at him, you just know that you want to take the redpill. You've never seen a man look so menacing before. But this scalie god, the 'Holy Lizard' as he is better known, pulls it off so well. You could stare at him for hours, appreciating every crease and mound of his marvellous muscles, your hand shaking as your fingers slide across the hard scales on his face. Your eyes tremble with admiration.
"You're a beautiful man," you whisper, as you lean in close to his lips.
His facial expression doesn't even change. He's so drugged up on his masculinity that he doesn't feel anything but hate. And if not that, then he feels pure fucking pride for the man that he is.
When you jerk off to scalies, you'll think about him. The one who stamps out the dark. The one who doesn't give a fuck about anything else but satisfying his carnal desire to kill in the name of what he believes to be right.
–
The reptile god watched with complete disinterest as the pedophile panther he subjugated finished his rant about 'how cubs can actually consent.'
Once the banshee ranting just about died down, the scaled god took a long swipe of his cigar. He puffed out smoke slowly, uncaring to the greasy panther's squirms and cries as he was pinned down by this beast just by the power of his arm down on his chest alone.
For how muscular and ripped the panther is, it does actually mean fuck all in the face of scalie supremacy. That, and you could say that scalie gods are actually built different.
"Unlike you, I don't need a baby's hole to get me off."
The reptile's words were like poison. Harsh and hard-hitting. Nothing but pure truth in the face of pure degeneracy.
His handsome face creased a little, a slight brow forming as he considered his words.
"But, then again, I'm sure an ape like you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between that hole and an adult's. After all, 'any hole is a goal', right? 'Ooga booga fuck hole' - man, that's probably all your kind think about all day."
Even in this dim light, it was easy to see his chiselled jawline. The reptile's face was that much of a man. A manly man, at that. Not some fucking retard, that's for sure. A man who carries himself well. A man who supports his fellow Kings. A man who stamps out degeneracy wheresoever he looks.
"And, you know what, I've just about had it with this woke business. Nobody should be proud of fucking cubs."
With one swift motion of his arm, the scalie god was able to wrap his veiny, muscled hand around the panther's thick neck within an instant. He looked on with no remorse as he choked the cubophile out.
Instead, a slight smile formed at the edge of his lips.
As he continued constricting his hand around that ape's throat, veins continued to tense in his arm, his arm itself coursing with muscular power. It was as if snuffing a life out like this is what gives him power in the first place. The power to dictate the world. Its something that only a man can do.
"Die, you fucking nigger."
He seethed, sealing the panther's fate with one last bout of his poisonous words.
~The Holy Lizard - Continued~
The lizard watched on in passive entertainment as the hung, roided-up panther jerked off his big greasy rod with all the subtlety of a rampaging ape.
"Tell me, what is it like being a complete fucking retard; a slave to your sexual thoughts all day?" The Holy Lizard asked, his voice booming out in this otherwise vacant room.
In order to better understand the tactics of the enemy, the lizard likes bringing the hung and buff panthers he finds here to observe their behaviours.
But he soon finds that they alternate between 3 different states: loudly masturbating, loudly listening to their sorry excuse of 'music', or beating their chest like a fucking gorilla.
The dragon smiled to himself as he watched the panther masturbate himself into a frenzy, to a point where he wouldn't be surprised if the nigger ended up passing out from exhaustion.
"God, its like a poorly made AI," he chuckled to himself. But he's right, though. He's so fucking right.
How can one tell that they're in the vicinity of a nigger? Probably hearing their sludge-ridden dick echoing from down the alleyway.
BANG. And the dirt is gone.
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