Hoist by Your Own Bollard

Story by Tristan Hawthorne on SoFurry

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A commission for FA: BoonytheWolf

Boony's pipes burst during the winter, and his house is too cold and wet to stay in. His cousin Fang takes him up at short notice, but she wants to have some fun while he's around.

Contains unwilling hyper growth, vouyerism, unaware cock vore, first cousin incest, cum digestion, cum disposal, excessive cum, unknown fate

As always, if you want to support my writing but you can't afford to commission, you could always get me a Ko-Fi


At the doorbell, Fang stood up, quashed some of her nervous energy, and headed to answer the door. The wolf was dressed in a casual sweater a few tones off from her dark grey fur, and she had her silvery hair in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. Grasping the doorknob, she pulled the door open.

On the stoop was a lighter grey wolf, her cousin Boony. His jeans were soaked up past the knee, and he looked generally unhappy. His black hair was matted down, and a lot of his fur on his cheeks and neck was sticking out at odd angles from moisture. He was also shivering. "Hey F-fang."

"Oh, get in here. I didn't know you didn't have a change of clothes..." She stepped aside to let him out of the cold winter air.

The shivering wolf rubbed on his own arms as he stepped across the threshold. "Th-thanks for taking me on s-such short n-notice." Boony nodded politely, and then made a bee line for the small wood-burning stove next to the couch, crouching beside it and holding his paws towards it.

"Burst pipes are never good." Fang replied, watching him shiver by the small fire. "You can add some wood if you want. I'm gonna fix up a sleep aid for you. Once you're warm, I'll get you to bed, okay?"

Boony turned his head and nodded back to her, and reached into the seemingly decorative wood pile by the stove to grasp one of the split logs and shove into the stove.

Fang smiled and turned to head into her kitchen. She had a moment where she doubted her plan, but it was quickly pushed away, her smile turning devious. As she heated up water to dissolve the minor sleeping drug, she took out a small bottle with a male symbol printed on a handmade logo and drizzled about a teaspoon into the mix. Once the sleep aid was fully dissolved, she poured the whole mixture into a mug, and carried it out to her cousin.

About two hours later, Boony was passed out in the guest bedroom, stripped to his boxers and buried under several warm blankets.

Fang made sure of this, smiling a bit at the open snores coming from his muzzle. Casually closing the guest bedroom door, she headed off to her own room. But instead of the bed, she sat down at her computer and shook the mouse.

As the screensaver dropped, a video feed of a bedroom in greyscale appeared. In one of the corners of her guest room, up near the ceiling, there was an infrared camera. It was pointed right at the bed, and Boony was clearly visible.

She checked the time, and nodded. It should be any minute now.

As she thought that, Boony started to fidget in his sleep. He pushed on the bedding in the uncoordinated way one does when they act on something in a dream, working until the bedding was mostly piled up on his spread legs, revealing his bare chest and tented boxers.

Fang grasped the mouse, and tapped the controls. The camera's lenses shifted, focusing on that bulge and making it more detailed at the center of frame. She could see his heartbeat through the shudders of that tent. But most importantly, the tent was turning into a rounder and rounder lump.

There was a sudden jolt as the button on Boony's boxers went flying. On the greyscale video feed it was like one frame was straining, closed boxers, and the next the fly was wide open, straining against something slick and bare.

Tugging on her bun, the wolf let her silver hair drape down around her shoulders, licking her lips. In the silence of the night, she could hear the tearing sound before it made it through the lag in her connection to the camera.

On the feed, it was clear that Boony's shorts had given up the ghost, at least in regards to trying to contain his prodigious maleness. His swollen balls practically sloshed down between his thighs, up against some of the blankets as they settled. The shaft above merrily flopped up onto his belly from the relief in tension allowing the erection's release, continuing to indicate the sleeping wolf's steady heartbeat with its increasingly obvious throbbing. Each pulse saw it grow larger. The fat glans ground its way up the wolf's torso and up onto his chest, before he rolled onto his side.

Unfortunately for Fang, the way he rolled left him mostly facing away from her camera. On the other hand, his dick was still in shot, flopped into a bundle of sheets resultant from his earlier fidgeting.

The voyeuristic she-wolf swallowed firmly, realizing she'd been panting, and re-focused the camera on where the shaft jumped and quivered against the guest linens.

On the screen it was hard to tell what was happening at first, but the creases and wrinkles in the sheets started to change shape, into a radial pattern from the head of the shaft. When a corner of the fabric approached the glans and the swell in her cousin's urethra became too great to ignore, she realized what was happening.

Somehow, his dick was swallowing the sheets.

Fang curled her toes in her stockings and bit onto one of her knuckles, shuddering. It was such a lewd idea, even more so than what she'd already done. As she watched, the sheets were moving faster, until their motion pulled the heavier blankets into range. She was about to curse under her breath from having them obscure her view further, except they didn't.

Boony's cock just swelled greater and started dragging them in as well. She just sat there, staring as pulse after pulse her very nice guest blankets were dragged inexorably into her cousin's cock, to fate unknown. She felt a tingle run up her spine as she watched each undulation of penile flesh drag square inches of dense, heavy fabric out of sight.

Then the wolf in her feed rolled onto his back. His dick dragged about three square feet with it, and it covered his loins, just barely.

Fang whimpered in distress, pushing away from her desk and standing up.

Boony's cock bent forward, over his increasingly stuffed balls as it worked on dragging the heavy fabric in. It was soon dangling from the slit, the weight of all that fabric keeping the curved flesh pointed at the doorway.

Said doorway swung open, sending light from the hall pouring in. Fang rushed into the room, her eagerness outweighing her caution. She didn't see Boony's wet, piled up jeans on the floor between her and the bed. Her eyes were focused on the cock, rising snake-like from her cousin's hips. In her rush, her feet got tangled in the wet denim, and she lunged forward.

It so happened that the last of the blankets had disappeared into the cockhead and the shaft looked about ready to flop back onto Boony's chest. However, instead the slit gaped open, and it lunged to meet the wolfess.

Fang grunted, muffled. Something warm and wet was wrapped tightly around her head, and whatever was keeping her in a precarious position. She couldn't flop all the way to the bed, and she couldn't get a grip to stand up properly either.

Then the warmth pulsed, and more importantly, pulled.

Her lust-addled mind put together what had happened. She groaned into the greedy passage, as another pulse spread the slit around her shoulders, effectively pinning her arms to her sides.

Boony, for his part, was still passed out; his snoring was a distant companion that told Fang no help was coming.

The she-wolf writhed, grunting as the squeezing, pulling muscles worked over her bust. She curled her toes amidst the cold, wet jeans, and couldn't stop herself from venturing a lick at the passage ahead of her. It tasted musky and salty, as one might expect, but in her current predicament, that just hazed her mind further.

By the time most of her sweater-clad torso had been devoured, her head was pressing through the greedy cock's base. A gurgling sound up ahead threatened to drown out the steady heartbeat filling her ears. Her muzzle started to press through a tighter passage. She attempted to squirm her muzzle around, but mostly made her shoulders shimmy around in the snug flesh, as peristalsis worked the greedy meatus towards her hips.

And then her snout breached the tunnel, and something thick, wet, and creamy splashed against it. Extending her tongue again, her whole body quivered. Boony's cum, the forbidden milk. At this rate she'd be bathing in it before long. That thought caused her to bring her legs up onto the bed, but instead of bracing her knees into the mattress to try to pull back, she dug her claws into it to push.

The cock withstood this shove for a moment, until her hips shoved to the slit and her momentum carried her legs up and over. Boony's pride throbbed upright, not flopping down to his torso, but somehow using gravity to work over the she-wolf's curves.

Fang was too busy drinking to notice, or even care, her head having popped through the barrier into his sloshing nuts. She paid no mind that there was no sign of her bedding there. Her shoulders followed with another pulse, then she gasped as the pressure on her bust finally released. Distantly, she felt her knees taken into the warmth that was encompassing her senses, then her calves... then ankles... then her feet, and finally her toes.

Boony snorted in his sleep, scratching his chest with a paw, blissfully unaware as the last of his cousin's bulge traveled down the swollen underside of his enhanced arousal. His sac quadrupled in size to hold such a feast. Once the last of her was sequestered within the churning balls, the cock flopped back down, the glans now pulsing on the sleeping wolf's throat. Thoughtlessly he hugged it, like a body pillow, nuzzling a little and getting pre on his cheek for all his trouble.

Deep within the wolf's loins, Fang was losing herself. Every motion, every slosh was pleasure. She could feel the walls squeeze and grind, and in her need she tried to shove a hand into her pants. By the time she figured out that the reason this kept feeling was because she no longer had a hand, her mind was too addled to realize what that meant. She moaned wetly, and writhed, unable to do anything to relieve her need.

Less than an hour after Boony had fallen asleep, the shape in his balls smoothed away entirely, leaving a heavy, swollen sac between and partially atop his spread thighs. The top sheet and heavy blankets were gone, but his swollen loins were practically a space heater, and so the wolf stayed asleep until morning.

The weak winter sun shone into the bedroom through the window, tracing a spotlight along the wall with the steady turning of the earth. The beam inched along, until it leisurely set down across the sleeping wolf's face.

Boony winced, squinting, before rolling onto his side, away from the window. The lurching thud of his immense loins jolted him fully awake. The lupine stared at his body pillow of a cock, and then groaned. "Goddamn it, Fang." He sat up, rubbing over his eyes while his cock flopped down over his beanbag chair of a scrotum.

Carefully scooting himself off the bed, the wolf got himself onto his feet, and then twisted to look over his shoulder. He realized that the bedding he'd dragged himself under the night before was nowhere to be found. He rubbed the side of his head, waddling his way around the bed, just to find the floor on that side was empty as well. His dirty clothes were scattered around the floor rather than just piled up like he left them.

Boony turned, and grunted as each step he took made his heavy sac slosh and churn audibly. "F-fuck. Fang?!" He called out for his cousin, leaning his weight onto one hand on the wall to keep from overbalancing, before he stepped into the open doorway of the she-wolf's room.

There was no sign of her. The bed was perfectly made, no sign of being slept in. Her desktop was in a hibernation cycle, the power button slowly fading down, then back up to full brightness, over and over.

Groaning, the overburdened wolf made his way past, to the bathroom. He couldn't deal with this load, and he would have to deal with it now, deal with his cousin later. Boony panted, grabbing the decorative towels off the rack and throwing them onto the edge of the tub, letting them drape to the floor. The lupine bent his knees until his heavy sac rested on the towels, right up against the tub, then his knees met the edge.

As he took a deep breath, Boony grasped at the base of his shaft with both hands, unable to make his fingers meet around its girth. He slowly pressed and ground both hands up towards the glans, feeling his heart pounding in his chest, the mass of flesh between his fingers swelling and firming up. Just beneath the tip, he reversed direction, pulling back. By the time he'd reached the base again, his shaft was at full mast, a testament to how pent up he was this morning.

The tip of his cock pulsed nearly at eye level with himself. The slit gushed thick, clear pre-seed, which dribbled along the underside of the weighty member. Digging his fingers in, Boony clenched his eyes shut and started jerking harder, focusing on the sheer volume inside him, a pool, a lake, an ocean, churning and swirling, ready to be released. He just had to let the floodgates go. The wolf's toes curled against a bathmat, grasping the shaggy fibers. His knees shuddered, and gave just enough that his hips weight came down, compressing his sac harder against the floor, tub, and between his legs.

That added pressure was all Boony needed. The underside of his cock bulged out in a steady surge, before the slit gaped wide, allowing the first blast to splatter into the tiles on the far side of the tub, going out along that back wall before starting to glutinously run down to the tub. Before that spot was close to clear of heavy genetic essence, the next rope flew from his tip to the wall, adding weight to the cascade that was flowing around the built-in soap dish. Each contraction of his pelvic floor added a new surge in the viscous torrent.

Each parabolic shot arced higher, as the wolf's hips sank just that bit more with each quart that rocketed up and out, tilting his shuddering, desperately working dick towards the vertical. It wasn't long until the firing cum was splashing directly onto the now long-soapless soap dish, sending strands shooting back across the rapidly filling tub to splatter into his shaft's belly, along with a few on his arms and shoulders.

Boony's neck lay onto the edge of the counter behind him, stopping the tilting motion. He adjusted his grip at the base, and pushed down on the rigid spine of his bucking meat, reversing the angle as his flow finally began to taper, each shot coming slower, heavy seed drizzling out rather than firing forth soon.

Chest heaving, the wolf managed to get himself back upright, and looked down at the full tub. "Serves you right, Fang." He muttered bitterly between pants. The overflow drain was gurgling in a panic, and a lower bass below indicated the standard drain was struggling to deal with the sticky liquid wolf.

Exhaling slowly, Boony dug his fingers into his urethral ridge at the base, and dragged them forward, milking another pint of cream from his tip with a shudder, sensitive in afterglow. The wolf sat like that for a moment or two longer, and stood up. His cock was just as large as ever, but at least his sac had been reduced to a more manageable size, not quite hanging beneath his knees. He looked for something to wipe his tip, and then chuckled. It would piss off his cousin to have to clean up a snail-trail of spunk around the house later. He headed out of the bathroom fully naked, shaft finally settling over his pendulous balls.

"God damn it, Fang, you'd better have another shower or something..."