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iridiumx

Iri wiped at his mouth again as he made his way back around the table, chest heaving with the unsteady breaths of an invigorating finish. Every time he reached down to run a hand over himself, his pads and fur came back slick and sticky with the thick, wet ropes of saliva that the Suicune had left all over him: each step caused another heavy drip to hang a little bit further down, step by step, until he heard it slap against the tile floor beneath him.

The Suicune up on the table kept one eye half-closed beneath the evidence of his mark there, streaks of milky white arcing up across her lovely muzzle with more painting her tongue and the back of her throat. There was still time before her appointment would start, though, which meant that the attendant here still had time to get to know her and forge a bond with the Pokémon.

And he would certainly take every opportunity he could to do so. As he came around to her backside - lying sideways on the table, she lifted a hindleg up just far enough so that her plump spade shifted in place, inner walls smacking gently along one another with the movement - he rested a hand along her haunch, then drew it up along plush, soft fur to hook beneath her ribbon tails... and then, just as he had done when their session had unofficially started, the dragon dropped into a crouch to put his chin level with the surface of the table.

The Suicune lifted her head to look back at him, some of that same questioning disdain still on her muzzle though, this time, with none of the apprehension. All she gave was a little twitch and a prideful _huff_when Iri replaced his muzzle beneath her tails, the smooth surface providing quite the landing zone for him. He remained there for a moment just eyeing his prize, this delightful offering that her Trainer had brought in for him, then leaned in to touch his nose to those central wrinkles all over again - but this time he didn't stop there. In he pressed until he felt her interior muscles reflexively clench back around him, trying to keep him from pushing any deeper; in he pressed until that interior humid heat seeped out along the skin of his nose and matted his fur, until he imagined he could see the steam twirling up from her wrinkled pucker; and then he pulled back, swallowed, parted his lips, and wrapped his mouth around the entirety of her tailhole.

She jumped again at that sensation, then half-kicked a leg when the first thing the attendant did from there was lift his tongue and start to suck. Lips coming in towards the center of her pucker, tongue lifting up and forward, then jaw moving and pulling down and back, saliva running, pooling, swirling... again and again, wet strands rising up from between the wrinkles of already wet skin, slightly greasy slime trickling out from deeper inside. At the end of each pull Iri drew his tongue forward and across her tailhole, pushing it in a little further each time, using the natural movement of skin and muscle to his advantage.

Before long he felt the slightly stiffer, tighter exterior skin give way to smooth, silken interior flesh, warm and wet and slimy - and that was what he wanted. As soon as the Suicune's tailhole started to give way, as soon as the cool taste of musk gave way to a hotter, richer tang, Iri adjusted his position, brought both thumbs in to poke and prod and spread, then tilted his muzzle a little bit and dug his tongue deep into her.

This time she responded, though. Immediately he felt the ring of muscle there shiver and tighten up, then start to push back out against him even as he dug and swirled his tongue in deeper, like kneading away at a thick, hot, overhydrated dough. Those internal wrinkled walls mashed and sucked back around his tongue, creases thick with dense, sticky slime that coated his mouth and matted down his fur: even when he drew back to swallow, still the Suicune pushed back against him, tailhole blossoming out against him and meeting his lips in a wet, puckered kiss, before she tightened back up and clenched again. This forced a thick, slightly discolored glob of that internal slime to coagulate and roll down her backside, perfect for Iri to lap up just before diving back in.

Again and again he went at her, now working one thumb and then the other in to keep her spread open, now puckering his lips, spitting a wad of his own saliva into her gaped rump, then turning his muzzle and sealing himself in place to suck it right back out. Soon he had to swallow two or three times to down the same mouthful, the natural sticky slickness of her insides so thickly coating his mouth and throat; he felt it creeping up his nose as well, a dense, wet ooze, so warm, so_heady_. There was a certain richness to it that her other natural musk lacked, a kind of acrid pungency that stung his nose and made his stomach roil, but still he couldn't get enough of it.

This time when he drew himself back, a few thick, yellowed ropes of the stuff hung down between her revealed red interior flesh and his mouth, the strands of slime wobbling as they drew out, extended, and then finally broke. Still they hung down from the source, though, discolored and foul and so inviting: Iri dove forward again, letting each one drape over his tongue in turn until he could slurp the mucus free, then came up ready to suck along the inside of her tailhole yet again, only for the Suicune to shiver, curl her toes, angle her backside out a little bit further, and this time push right into his open maw.

Thick, wet sputters of that same slime oozed, sprayed, dribbled out onto his waiting tongue and across his parted lips, briefly making him jump with surprise. Still, though, he dove forward and cupped his mouth around her effort, gladly sucking and swirling out great globs of her stickiness until he could feel it rolling around in his mouth, a thick wad of heavy slime floating atop his own saliva - and then coursing palpably down his throat when he swallowed.

Finally, panting, a little lightheaded, the attendant drew back again and let his mouth hang open to try to catch his breath, each inhalation heavily tainted with the stench of Suicune. Rich slickness coated his tongue and teeth, and it felt as though his muzzle dripped with that same slime even when he reached to wipe it off; the Suicune atop the table looked back at him with a hot blush tinting the fur of her cheeks, her ribbon tails now flicking and lashing in arousal as well as agitation, and-

Iri's watch beeped. Now their session had officially started. He had a lot of work to do.

Forth

The striped hyena poked his head up above the shoulder of the bystander before him, trying to get a vantage point through the thin crowd that had gathered here. The rest of the festival continued on as normal all around, rivers of attendants freely and easily flowing around the little stoppage here, though the sounds and exclamations from this spot had particularly caught his attention.

"Hey," he murmured, pushing his way through the folks standing in attendance. His fingers still dripped with the wet chill of the ice dunk event from earlier; everyone he touched hissed and jumped away, more out of surprise and shock than disdain. "'Scuse me. Passin' through. Just wanna get me a li'l lookie here..."

Quickly he learned that this commotion was quite well-earned. In the center of the circle stood what looked like a red panda, _completely_naked and bound at the neck and waist specifically, thick, slightly translucent bonds keeping him linked to a pole driven into the ground, at the top of which spread out a wide umbrella to keep him shielded from the sun. Some of the audience reached out to touch and poke and prod at him, and while he fended off these intrusions with suitable speed and urgency, it didn't seem as though he were truly upset about it. There was exasperation and annoyance there, sure - but anyone, even from the hyena's distance, could be able to see the length of pink flesh that had begun to stir out of his sheath under the attention, pert sack bouncing and jiggling underneath him with his movements.

The red panda snapped and growled at those who came a little bit too close, either to grab at his tail, or run a spread paw down his thigh, or even in one case grip his chin and hold his muzzle up. That person came away with their cheek smeared in a glob of the prisoner's saliva, much to the enjoyment of the others watching.

"Yeah, yeah, I know what the damn sign says," the red panda snarled, lunging forward until those bonds yanked him back. The hyena noticed that they stretched, pulled taut, and then retracted under their own elasticity. "Doesn't mean you have to, squirt."

Sign, huh? Now at the front of the crowd, he slid his cold paws into his pockets, watched a moment longer, then nonchalantly swung his head around to find what he might be talking about. Sure enough, standing there off to the side out of the red panda's furthest reach was an electronic display, also shaded, with a bullet-point list. The hyena tilted his head, scoffed, and peered in for a closer look.

Let your wildest dreams come true in this, our most advanced installation yet!

This is a hands-on exhibit; please feel free to handle the performer/merchandise with whatever touch is required!

See him change before your eyes, to no wish but your own; touch and transform at will!

(Restrains are of industrial elastic and polycarbonate to prevent tearing)

_ _

That was interesting. Just as the hyena lifted his gaze again, he saw someone else dive in, take hold of the red panda's chest, and then come away, sliding their paws up and over smooth charcoal-black fur - which promptly expanded and grew out into their palms, coming away as though they pulled the surface of his body forward with them. Plump, heavy breasts grew in place from his previously flat chest, the little piercings through the panda's nipples catching the light of the open sunlight and glimmering attractively.

Caught off-guard, the prisoner half-stumbled and then shook a fist at the retreating participant. "Oh, yeah, okay," he shouted, "very funny. I've never gotten these fuckin' things before. Gosh, you know what would be funny? If this boy had tits." He straightened up, footpaws scuffing along the dusty ground, and fired a wilting glare across the front row of watchers. "Anyone wanna complete the package? Come on, I know y'all're thinking it."

Someone took that offer. A tall, broad stallion strode confidently forward, though the red panda made no sign of backing down. In fact, all he did was cross his arms over his chest, first fiddling them against, then over, and finally resting them underneath his much broader bust, squishing them up and out a bit. He glared at the newcomer, waiting for the equine's response, then maintained that glare as the stallion took in a breath, reached forward and down, fixed a broad yet gentle hand around the panda's swinging sheath and sack... and then, to the hyena's surprise, nothing happened.

This seemed to surprise the prisoner, too. He looked down over himself, scoffed, then kicked at the stallion's shin. "Ha! Must've wanted me to turn into a girl." There was a slight tinge to the panda's voice now, and as the hyena watched, those shoulders and hips started to shift and change, just slightly... "Fuckin' idiot. I mean, it worked, but - I know plenty of girls with dicks bigger than mine. Do you know what year it is, dude? What, did you expect me to just sprout a puss and be done with it? 'Cause _that's_what a girl is? Yeah, piss off, pal. Who's next? Anyone wanna fix his fuckin' mistake?"

After a second during which nobody else came up, the hyena decided it was his turn. Paws still in his pockets, he stepped easily up, though made sure to keep himself out of the range of those restraints. The red panda looked him up and down, eyes narrowing first at his pants, then at the shirt he wore, and finally at his muzzle.

"Yeah? What do you want?"

The hyena tilted his head. "So are you a guy or a girl now?"

To this the panda scoffed and sighed. "What do you think? What do I look like?"

He looked them over. "A little bit of both?"

"Well, I feel like a little bit of both, regardless of what equipment y'all fuckwads try to set me up with. So I guess that's your answer." The panda rolled their eyes. "Come on, stripes. We're burnin' daylight here."

"Do you feel like a hyena?"

They waited a moment. The red panda scoffed again. "Hey, stinks, can you read? The sign says you gotta touch-"

_ _

So he did, taking that short muzzle in his paws and holding tight - and within the second feeling the bones and flesh and muscle start to shift and rearrange, everything underneath stretching out into the longer, thicker muzzle of one of his cousins. He couldn't help but grin at the prisoner's sudden uncharacteristic shakiness and reluctance.

The striped hyena tilted his head the other way. "How about now?"

daetsmlo

Lukas squirmed and shuddered where he was, yet another gasp rippling its way through his chest. He knew that he was fully on display here, his clothes opened and tugged away from his body, pants and underwear hanging off one leg, shirt discarded to the side, but he didn't care. If anything, the knowledge that any of the other passing patrons could stop and watch for a while just worked him up even further: in the spaces between the indulgent pleasure he partially opened his eyes and looked out across the dim yet clearly lit bar, grazing back and forth over those who were just as eager to watch him in return.

Slick, firm wetness coiled its way around one of his shoulders and then up his neck, squeezing enough for him to shift his focus to its presence without cutting off his breathing or straining his muscles. It turned his head up and to the side, and he blinked again... and saw there the great, familiar the wolf-jaguar taur who had so easily caught his attention and focus these last several visits. The beast himself lounged back, all comfort and nonchalance, one paw clutching a book while the other held a small plate of the various snacks the bar offered.

The rest of him, however...

Another wave of sweet enjoyment vibrated through the smaller otter's body, briefly causing his eyes to flutter shut again, and forcing him to spread his legs around the similar cool, soft firmness that slid, sank, sucked, and slurped up underneath his tail. Tan eyes sparkled down at him from above the edges of the pages, before flicking back into place there. Sleek, rhythmic undulation pulsed from the back of the larger, feral lower body, huge tendrils like thick wet fingers reaching out from where had originally been a set of lovely, beautiful wings, now massive slithering tentacles, tendrils reaching out and down to wrap around Lukas's entire body.

Not that he was complaining, of course. Here he had been in his traditional, customary spot, leaning back against the taur's lower belly with one arm draped over the huge, plump sheath, close enough that he could turn his head and easily reapply the sticky, musky lip gloss straight from the source, so heavy that he could taste it on his breath even long after he had departed the bar for the night. There had been a small shift from the taur behind him, then a quietly uttered question; and Lukas had given his assent, and then the next thing he knew, these tendrils were reaching forward and down, exploring his body, getting a feel for him and his desires, his pleasures and enjoyments.

And now it seemed they knew him at least as good as he himself did. Three of them pulsed and pressed underneath his tail, slipping easily through the stretched ring of muscle there, pushing deliciously against his wet inner walls and making him squirm and gasp; the one wrapped around his shoulder and neck squeezed there, every now and then bringing his attention back to it so that he could never forget its presence.

Anything he wanted or desired, it seemed he need not mention. With the tentacle coming a bit too tight around his neck, Lukas tilted his head - and it loosened, the coils slipping just in the slightest to maintain the pressure while returning his ability to breathe without interruption. One after another the three pushing up through his tailhole worked themselves, feeling together like one smooth system instead of separate appendages; another thought slid across his fantasy, and before he could adjust himself accordingly, yet another of those reaching tendrils came forward, slid its way around his hip, and then curled up the base of his shaft.

He wanted to watch, and as such the taur's tentacles allowed him to. Cool shivers bounced up his body as it made its progress, wrapping slowly, gently up his hard shaft, squeezing back every time he throbbed. The otter let out a rumbling breath of a moan, shivered, then gritted his teeth in anticipation - and let it go in relief as the searching tendril felt his reluctance and made its next move slowly, carefully.

Hypersensitivity heightened further by the expectation and anticipation... the thin, tapered tip of the appendage licked underneath the rim of the otter's sensitive foreskin there, slow and careful, then slid its way in further. One of Lukas's footpaws kicked at the sensation, its progress visible beneath the smooth, sleek skin as it snaked its way around, careful not to rub too firmly against his head, making its way down to curl around the rim. He could see it there underneath, wriggling like a thin tongue, and feeling much like it too. He throbbed again, skin tightening around it, which just made him throb yet again; the otter gasped, rumbled, rolled his head to the side, then fought a brief wave of dizziness at the squeezing of the other around his throat. It loosened its grip again.

Still, though, they weren't done. One of his ears flicked towards the sound of the taur turning the page in his book. Lukas swallowed and straightened up again, another idea stirring into being in the back of his head; the tentacle now coiled inside of his foreskin pulsed and wriggled again, the tapered tip slipping back up towards the lip of his skin while the length remained curled inside. That sensation made him grit his teeth in pleasure and shiver, and it very well might have made him finish right then and there, if the grasping tendrils had not felt this and backed off accordingly.

This left him panting, drooling from both his parted lips as well as his twitching, throbbing arousal, as that one tentacle slid up along his underside, brushed against his frenulum, sent another shiver through his body, and then angled itself forward and down. The tip dragged up through that oozing drop of pre, coating itself in the slimy slickness, then poked forward, down a bit further, angled itself just right with the tip of his cock there... and then started to slowly, gently, carefully work its way in and down, a good inch and a half of it still buried beneath his foreskin.

Lukas rolled his head back and shuddered again, another moan dribbling out between his lips. A lot more of it was about to be inside of him as well.

LomiDePuzlo

Lolo sprawled back across the grass with his arms folded up underneath his head, gentle relaxation settling in across him as cozily as the weight of the rabbit-dog who straddled his lower body, both completely nude to let the embrace of the day wrap snug around them. C'helpa rocked her body gently forward and back, her rump resting along his thighs; it was more an intimate connection than an indulgent one, though still the interest stirred through the Locus himself as well as doubtless his companion here.

Mismatched eyes, one blue and one green, glittered from behind the glasses that rested atop her short muzzle, the arms of the colored rims disappearing back beneath her folds of smooth chocolate-brown hair. She tilted her head a bit, smiled, and reached up to idly nip at the back of one of her fingers.

"How're you feeling, Lolo?"

He closed his eyes again, the shade of the tree overhead blocking out much of the sun's glare. "Good," he cooed, "quite good. In fact, I could just... fall asleep right here..."

C'helpa turned her head the other way, muzzle taking on that natural motherly warmth that seemed to come so easily to her. She reached down and rested her paws along the male's lower body, then gentle pushed up towards his chest through bare fur. "Yeah? What if..."

Lolo waited for a moment, but the rest of the words hung back. He cracked an eye and peered up. "What if...?"

The rabbit-dog's smile deepened, all amusement and no malice, and she brought her paws right back down. The pressure there increased, squeezing in along his lower belly just behind his half-hard length. Comfort turned to slight discomfort, to something bordering on urgency...

"What if you needed to, y'know... take a break?"

Lolo squirmed, starting to pull himself up onto his elbows - but one of C'helpa's paws came down to push him back down by the shoulder. The other slid up a bit, deliberately caressing the back of his length, and then lifted up underneath the slight overhang of her soft belly. The rabbit-dog chuckled softly, pulled in a little breath, held it, let her eyes drift close... and then relaxed.

"What if," she went on, a hot, delicious trickle starting to dribble out from between her thighs and against Lolo's lower body, "I wouldn't let you get up?"

The Locus sighed softly as her stream picked up in intensity, guided up and over his length to his lower belly from her paw now keeping herself spread. Gradually he lowered himself back down to the grass and reached down to angle his length up as well. "Well, then," he responded, other hand sliding up to spread through his fur now damp and matted with her mark, "I guess I'll just have to stay here, and... take care of business myself..."

For a moment the two remained where they were, Lolo lying back with both his own and C'helpa's piss pouring down and across his body, first pooling atop his belly before it flowed over and down. It soaked into his fur as it went, warming his skin and coating him in scent and slickness; he tilted his head, swallowed, sighed, and gave a little push to continue his own, arousal steadily growing beneath the combined weight and warmth.

Atop him C'helpa rocked her hips side to side again, this time to coat him more thoroughly as she continued to aim up and across his belly. Soft fingers pressed into softer flesh, palm lifting her belly up and out of the way while her fingerpads sank in against the sweet, supple surface of spread lips and inner thighs, radiant pink glistening from within now dripping with the same light gold that arced through the air and splashed out across Lolo's body. Slowly she leaned back, shifting her weight further along his legs until her free arm shifted back to prop her up as well - which gave him an even better view at the center of focus here.

Lolo swallowed again, lips parted in anticipation, and intentionally rubbed his already sopping wet underside against that revealed pink, the shivering sensation and heat of her piss straight from the source tickling against him and spraying out to the sides. A low moan rumbled through his chest, and before long he had arched his back up away from the grass to keep himself pressed against her, one thumb resting at the base of his now fully hard shaft; he tapped himself in place there, every now and then giving a residual squeeze and throb now emptying out only the slightest squirt and spray of his own almost-emptied bladder across his thoroughly drenched belly.

Soon C'helpa finished up as well, though she ran a pair of fingers up between her spread lips at the end of her stream as she did so. This caused it to spurt and spray out and between her fingers, then again and again until she had soaked her paw in her own mark as well - and with that paw she guided Lolo's arousal up and against her, the rabbit-dog having lifted her body just slightly to make room for him. Once more her bright, miscolored eyes flashed down at him, quietly looking for permission and assent before she made a move.

Lolo, panting softly with the weight of his arousal and anticipation, gave a quick, tight nod, then bit his lower lip, closed his eyes... and shuddered sweetly with the delectable sensation that followed, C'helpa starting to press herself slowly down onto his piss-soaked length. By now both of their mixed scents swirled up and around in the clear day, drawing back into his awareness at the top of each inhalation. There was no way he could even try to forget that he wore their marks, though, as already it had started to dry into his fur, warm and slick and somewhat sticky. This would become even more so, too, as the two began to rub and press more firmly against one another, fur to fur, Lolo's paws slipping down to caress C'helpa's soft thighs, hers coming in to push against his chest.

They would be here for a while longer indeed - and Lolo had only managed to empty himself about halfway.