#lizardmen

The forest path stretched before you, dappled in afternoon light. You'd been walking for hours, your boots crunching on fallen leaves and scattered pebbles, heading toward the trading post where you'd planned to sell the herbs bundled in your satchel. The air smelled of moss and a primal scent that made the fine hairs on your arms stand on end.

You should have turned back then.

But you didn't.

The first sign of trouble came as a low rumble, like thunder, except the sky above was clear and blue. You paused, ears twitching and what you heard made your heart stutter. Footsteps. Heavy ones. Not the measured tread of a traveler or the skittering of forest creatures. These were deliberate. Purposeful.

And they were coming toward you.

CRACK went a branch somewhere to your left.

SNAP went another to your right.

You spun in place, hand flying to the small dagger at your hip. Your eyes darted between the trees, searching for movement, for shape, for anything that would tell you what lurked in the shadows.

They stepped out simultaneously.

Two of them.

Lizards. No—lizardfolk. The kind that walked on two legs and stood taller than any creature had the right to be. Twice your height, easily. Twice your size in every dimension that mattered. Their scales caught the light like wet gemstones—one a deep, iridescent green that shifted to emerald when he moved, the other black as obsidian with veins of dark purple threading through his hide.

They wore nothing. No armor, no clothes, no shame.

And between their powerful legs, hanging heavy and soft against thick thighs, were cocks that made your brain short-circuit just from looking at them.

Oh gods.

Even limp, they were massive—as long as your entire arm from shoulder to fingertip, thick around as your wrist, dragging nearly to the ground with each step they took. Knots bulged along their lengths from base to tip, like someone had tied a dozen eggs beneath the skin. The green one's cock was the color of pale jade; the black one's was midnight blue veined with silver.

You recognized them. Not personally, but by reputation. Everyone in the realm knew about the Slithroth clan—or what remained of it. The most powerful reptilians ever to walk the earth, capable of creating new members through some arcane biological process rather than traditional breeding. But they'd been decimated in the Great Purge fifty years ago, hunted nearly to extinction by those who feared their strength and their... appetites.

Only two remained. The brothers, Randrak and Sorthak.

And they were famous for three things: their power, their public mating displays, and their desperate search for a mate to help them rebuild their clan.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"We smelled you from miles away," the green one—Randrak, said. His voice was deep, resonant, vibrating through your chest. His eyes, slit-pupiled and gold as molten metal, traveled over your body with open appreciation. "Like honey. Like ours."

The black one—Sorthak—inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring. A forked tongue slipped between his lips, tasting the air. "She's the one, brother. I'd know that scent anywhere. This is the mate we've been waiting for."

Your grip tightened on your dagger. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just a traveler. Let me pass."

They laughed. Both of them. The sound was deep and somehow... exciting. Heat curled in your belly, unwanted and undeniable. Your body, the traitor that it was, had already noticed how magnificent they were—the powerful muscles rippling beneath their scales, the confident way they moved, the sheer presence they commanded.

Randrak stepped closer. His cock began to stir, lifting from its hanging position, swelling and thickening before your eyes. "Let you pass? Little elf, we've been searching for you for three years. We're not letting you anywhere except between us."

You backed away—straight into Sorthak's chest. His arms came loosely around you. His scales were warm against your back, almost hot, and you could feel his heartbeat through them, strong and fast. His cock pressed against your lower back, already half-hard and growing harder by the second, and gods it was enormous even like this.

"Don't." You tried to make your voice firm, authoritative. It came out breathless.

"Don't what?" Sorthak murmured against your ear. "Don't want us? Your body says otherwise, little mate. I can smell your arousal from here. Can't you, brother?"

Randrak's nostrils flared again. His cock, now fully erect, rose until it pointed toward the sky—toward his own neck, that's how long it was, a massive pole of jade-green flesh covered in those prominent knots. "Oh yes. She's wet for us already. Our perfect little elf."

You felt moisture gather between your thighs, soaking through your smallclothes, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

"This is wrong," you whispered. "I don't know you. You can't just—"

"Can't just what?" Randrak closed the distance between you, his massive body blocking out the sun. His hand—each finger longer than your dagger—reached out to cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "We're the last of our kind, little one. The only two Slithroth left in this world. Our genes are screaming at us to find a mate, to breed, to rebuild what was lost. And you... you smell like the answer to every prayer we never thought to pray."

"We need your warmth," Sorthak added, his hips pressing forward so his fully erect cock slid against your back. The heat of it seeped through your thin shirt. "Our bodies run hot during rutting time. We need holes to warm our cocks. Warmth to cool our blood. And you have three perfect little elf holes that look exactly right for the job."

Three. Your mind latched onto the number with dawning horror. He meant your mouth. Your pussy. Your ass.

He meant all of them.

"No." You tried to push away from Sorthak, but his arms tightened around you. "I won't. I can't. You're too big, you'll—you'll break me."

Randrak's expression softened, just slightly. His clawed thumb traced your lower lip, pressing gently until your mouth opened on a gasp. "Elf holes stretch, little one. They're famous for it. Ask anyone in any tavern from here to the Sapphire Coast. Elves take cocks better than any other species in the realm."

"That's not—that's not true—"

"It is," Sorthak said. "We've done our research. We've been looking for you for a long time. An elf. That's what our research said would be the best match for our... particular needs."

Randrak's hand moved from your chin to your hair, threading through the strands with surprising gentleness. "This is how Slithroth males claim a mate. We show them what we can offer. We demonstrate our strength, our endurance."

His other hand moved to your shirt, claw catching on the fabric.

"Wait—"

RIIIIIP.

The cloth tore like paper, falling away from your body in shreds. Cool air hit your skin, raising goosebumps, and you gasped at the sudden exposure. Your breasts bounced free, nipples tightening instantly from the temperature and from the way both lizards' eyes fixed on them with obvious hunger.

"Perfect," Randrak breathed. "Look at these. Look at this pretty flesh." His clawed fingers traced the underside of your left breast, so light it was almost a tickle. "And these nipples. So small. So tight already. Are you cold, little mate? Or excited?"

Both. Neither. You didn't know anymore. Fear and arousal were tangled together in your gut and your body—that traitorous, pleasure-seeking body—was responding to their touch in ways you couldn't control.

"Fuck," Sorthak growled behind you, his hands coming up to grip your hips. His claws dented the fabric of your pants but didn't pierce—not yet. "I want to taste her, brother. I want to see what she sounds like when she comes."

"In good time." Randrak lowered his head, and his mouth—warm, so warm—closed around your nipple.

AH—!

The sound that escaped you was embarrassingly loud, a moan torn from somewhere deep in your chest. His tongue was forked, you realized as it circled your areola, dipping and flicking and tasting. It was longer than any human tongue had a right to be, wrapping around your sensitive peak like a serpent, making you see stars.

Suck. Pull. Lick.

He worked your nipple like he was trying to draw milk from it, even though you had none to give. The sensation was fireworks behind your eyes, electricity shooting down your spine, moisture gushing between your legs in response.

While Randrak attended to your breasts, Sorthak's hands moved lower. Your pants were still mostly intact, held up by a simple leather belt, and his claws made short work of the fastening. Rip. Tear. The fabric pooled around your ankles, leaving you completely naked between them.

"Spread your legs for me, little mate," Sorthak murmured against your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your ear. "Let me see what we're working with."

"No, I—hgnn!—"

His hand slid between your thighs from behind, palm pressing against your mound, fingers sliding through the slickness that had gathered there. When he pulled back, his fingers were glistening, connected by strings of your arousal.

"So wet," he marveled, showing his hand to Randrak. "Look at this, brother. She's absolutely dripping for us."

Randrak released your nipple with a final lick. The cold air on the wet flesh made you shiver, but his attention had already moved to your other breast, giving it the same thorough treatment.

"Taste her," he ordered. "I want to hear her scream."

Sorthak's laugh was low and dark. "Gladly."

He dropped to his knees behind you—and even kneeling, he was nearly as tall as you standing. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider, and then his mouth was on you, and you forgot how to breathe.

Slurp.

His tongue—that long, forked, impossibly flexible tongue—slid between your folds like it belonged there. He lapped at your entrance, dipping inside just enough to taste, to tease, to torment. His nose pressed against your clit with each pass, and the friction made your legs shake.

"Oh gods—"

"Told you," Randrak said, sounding smug. He'd released your breast and was now watching with obvious satisfaction as his brother ate you out. "Perfect little elf cunt. So sweet. Isn't she, Sorthak?"

Mmmph. The muffled sound of agreement vibrated against your sensitive flesh, and you cried out, your hands flying to Sorthak's head to push him away—or pull him closer, you weren't sure anymore.

Glrk. Shlick. Slurrrrp.

Wet sounds filled the forest, obscene and unmistakable. Anyone passing by would know exactly what was happening, and somehow that knowledge made it worse and better at the same time. You were going to come. You could feel it building, that tidal wave of sensation rushing toward you—

But Sorthak pulled back just before you crested.

"No," you whined. The sound was pathetic, and you hated yourself for it. "Please—"

"Please what?" He was grinning, his chin slick with your juices. "Please let you come? Or please stop?" His thumb found your clit, pressing down in slow circles that made your hips buck. "Because I don't think you want me to stop, little mate. I think you want more."

"More," you admitted, the word escaping before you could stop it. "I want—I need—"

Sorthak moved abruptly, his hands guiding your hips, and then you were facing Randrak—facing his massive jade cock, still erect, still weeping pre-cum from the slit at its tip. The droplets fell to the forest floor and you could smell it, that musky lizard scent that made your head spin.

"Open," Randrak said, and you opened your mouth without thinking.

Claws sheathed, his fingers slid inside, pressing down on your tongue, feeling the texture of it. "Warm," he observed. "Soft. This mouth is going to feel incredible around my cock."

Behind you, Sorthak had resumed his work, his tongue sliding between your folds again, but this time his fingers were elsewhere. Wet and slick with your arousal, they found your asshole, circling the tight pucker gently.

Hgnn! You tried to protest, but Randrak's fingers were still in your mouth, muffling the sound.

"Shhh," Randrak soothed, though there was nothing gentle in his eyes. "This is happening, little mate. All three of your holes are going to warm our cocks. That's what you're for now. That's what you were made for."

Sorthak's finger pressed against your asshole, his claws were retracted as it tested the resistance. "So tight," he marveled. "But we'll fix that. Elf holes stretch."

"No—they don't—AH!"

His finger pushed inside. Just the tip, just the first knuckle, but the sensation was overwhelming—foreign and invasive and good, gods why did it feel good?

"That's it," Sorthak purred against your pussy, his tongue still working your clit in lazy circles. "Open up for me. Let me in. You're doing so well, little mate."

Randrak removed his fingers from your mouth and replaced them with his thumb, pressing down on your tongue while his other hand worked your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples until they were raw and aching.

"Suck," he ordered. "Show me how that mouth will work my cock."

You sucked, hollowing your cheeks around his thumb, and he groaned—a deep, rumbling sound that you felt in your chest.

"Fuck. She's going to be perfect."

Behind you, Sorthak added a second finger to your ass, stretching you slowly. His tongue never stopped moving, licking and sucking and tasting, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge—

Your orgasm hit you like a thunderbolt, sudden and unstoppable. Your body convulsed, your pussy clenching around nothing while Sorthak's fingers pressed deeper into your ass and Randrak's thumb pushed further into your mouth. You screamed around the digit, muffled and desperate, as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you.

"Beautiful," Randrak murmured, watching your face contort. "Absolutely beautiful."

Sorthak pulled his fingers from your ass and stood, wrapping his arms around you from behind to keep you upright as your legs gave out. "She's ready," he told his brother. "Look how wet she is."

They turned you slightly, and you saw—gods, you saw your own reflection in Randrak's golden eyes, saw how wrecked you looked already, and you hadn't even been properly fucked yet.

"Please," you whispered, though you weren't sure what you were begging for. Mercy? More? "You're too big. You'll break me."

"We won't break you," Randrak said. "We'll stretch you. There's a difference. And by the time we're done, little mate, you'll be begging us to fill you again."

He sat down on the forest floor, his massive legs spread wide, his cock pointing straight up toward the sky. Then he reached for you, his hands finding your hips, and guided you to straddle him—but facing away, your back to his chest.

"No, wait, I can't—I can't see—"

"You don't need to see." His voice was warm against your ear. "You just need to feel."

His hands lifted you, and you felt his cock pressing against your entrance—the head alone was the size of your fist, those knots starting just an inch below the tip, and there was no way, no way it was going to fit—

"Breathe," Sorthak said, kneeling in front of you. His hands joined Randrak's, spreading your pussy lips wide, exposing your clit to the air. "Just breathe, little mate. Let your body open for him."

Randrak lifted you higher, aligning his cock with your entrance, and then he started to lower you.

Nnngh—

The head pushed inside, and you screamed. Not from pain—not exactly—but from the overwhelming sensation of fullness, of stretching, of your body being forced to accommodate something it had never been designed to take.

"Too big," you sobbed. "It's too big, it's too big—"

"Shhh." Sorthak's mouth found your clit, his tongue flicking rapidly against the sensitive nub. "You're taking him so well. Look—look how your pretty little pussy is stretching around him. It's so beautiful."

You looked down, and he was right. Your folds were stretched thin around the jade shaft, the skin pale and glistening with your juices, and there was still so much more to go. The first knot pressed against your entrance, and Randrak paused there, letting you adjust.

"Breathe," Sorthak reminded you. "In... and out..."

You breathed. And on the exhale, Randrak lowered you further.

POP.

The first knot slid inside, and you saw stars. It locked into place behind your pubic bone, and suddenly you could feel everything—every ridge, every bump, every inch of his massive cock as it filled you completely.

And still he lowered you.

"More," Randrak grunted, his hands tight on your hips. "There's more, little mate. You can take it."

"I can't—"

But your body disagreed. Your pussy was stretching, really stretching, the way they'd said elf holes could. The walls of your vagina flattened and expanded, making room for something that shouldn't have been able to fit, and somehow—somehow—you kept taking him.

Knot by knot. Inch by inch.

Glrk. Shlick. Glorp.

The sounds were wet and messy, and Sorthak was still licking your clit, his tongue dancing over the swollen nub in patterns that made your hips twitch. Randrak's tail wrapped around your waist, holding you steady, and his chest was hot against your back, his heartbeat pounding through his scales and into your spine.

"Almost there," he promised. "Just a little more."

You looked down at your belly and saw a bulge forming there—his cock, pressing up against your organs from the inside, visible through your skin.

SCHLORP.

The last knot slid inside, and Randrak's balls—heavy, full, huge—pressed against your ass. He was fully seated inside you, his cock so deep you could literally feel it in your lungs, and you couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything except feel.

"Perfect," Sorthak breathed, pulling back to marvel at you. "Look at that, brother. Look at how well she's taking you."

Randrak's hands moved to your breasts, cupping the bouncing flesh, his thumbs circling your nipples. "Our perfect mate," he agreed. "Our little elf. Our queen."

You heard footsteps on the path. Multiple footsteps. People approaching.

"Wait—" You tried to push yourself off Randrak's cock, but his arms held you in place, and the knots wouldn't let you go even if he'd let you try. "Someone's coming. Someone's coming, I can't—they can't see me like this—"

"Why not?" Sorthak stood, turning to face the path, his massive cock still erect and dripping. "Let them see. Let everyone see. You're our mate now. Our clan will grow from your body. There's no shame in that."

The first strangers emerged from the trees—a group of travelers, their eyes going wide at the scene before them. A female elf, impaled on lizard cock, her belly bulging, while another lizard stood over her, stroking his own massive shaft.

"Please," you begged, tears streaming down your face. "Please don't look. Please don't watch—"

But Sorthak only laughed, and Randrak began to move inside you, and you realized with horrible certainty that this was only the beginning.

Randrak's hips pumped upward, driving his cock deeper into your already-stuffed pussy, and every thrust made your belly bulge and flatten, bulge and flatten. The strangers—there were six of them now, maybe seven—had stopped to watch, their faces a mixture of horror and fascination.

"She's so tight," Randrak groaned, his claws digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks. "Even after taking all of me, she's still squeezing. Elves really are built for this."

"That's because they're meant to be bred," Sorthak said, still stroking his cock, letting everyone see how much he enjoyed the attention. "Their bodies know what they're for, even if their minds try to deny it."

You wanted to argue, wanted to scream at them that you weren't for anything except your own purposes, but the words wouldn't come. Every time you opened your mouth, Randrak thrust upward and stole your breath, filling you so completely that there was no room for anything except sensation.

Thrust. Schlick. Thrust. Glorp.

"I can't—I'm going to—"

"Come," Randrak ordered. "Come on my cock, little mate. Show everyone how much you love being filled."

Sorthak dropped to his knees again, his mouth finding your clit, and that was all it took. Your second orgasm crashed through you, harder than the first, your inner walls clamping down on Randrak's cock like a vice. You screamed—actually screamed—and the sound echoed through the trees, probably carrying for miles.

"Fuck," Randrak growled. "She's milking me. I'm not going to last—"

"Then don't," Sorthak said, pulling back from your clit with a final lick. "Fill her. Let everyone see what our seed looks like leaking out of an elf's cunt."

Randrak's hips jerked, once, twice, and then you felt it—hot, impossibly hot, pumping into you. His cum was thick and copious, more than any creature could produce. It filled you completely, overflowing around his cock and running down your thighs in thick white streams.

Gush. Schlick. Drip.

"That's it," Sorthak murmured, watching the overflow with satisfaction. "That's our seed, little mate. That's the beginning of our new clan."

Randrak pulled out in a series of pops. His cum poured out of you in a flood, splashing onto the forest floor, and you could only watch in dazed horror as what looked like bucketfuls of the stuff continued to leak from your stretched-open pussy.

"She needs more," Sorthak said darkly "Her mouth is still empty. Her ass is still empty. We're not done with her yet."

Randrak lifted you off his lap, turning you around, positioning you on your hands and knees in the dirt. "Agreed. Open your mouth, little mate. My brother needs to feel that pretty elf throat around his cock."

You shook your head, but Sorthak was already there, his massive black cock—that midnight-blue length with its silver veins—pressing against your lips.

"Open," he commanded. "Or I'll open you myself."

Gnh—

His cock pushed past your lips before you could comply or resist, the head stretching your mouth wide. You gagged immediately, your throat convulsing around the intrusion, and the sound you made was wet and desperate.

GRLKKK.

"That's it," Sorthak groaned, his hands cupping your face, holding you in place. "Just breathe through it, little mate. Your mouth is so warm."

Behind you, you felt Randrak's fingers spreading your ass cheeks, felt something wet and cold—his cum, still slick and plentiful—being rubbed into your back hole. "This one next," he said. "Once she's done choking on your cock, we're going to fill this ass too."

BPHHHRRR. You tried to protest, but the sound was garbled around the massive shaft in your throat. Not even one-third of Sorthak's cock was inside your mouth, and already you couldn't breathe, couldn't swallow, couldn't do anything except feel as he pushed deeper.

"You can take more," Sorthak insisted, his hips pressing forward. "I know you can. Elves were made for this. Remember? Your throat can stretch just like your cunt."

PHRPHGGG.

Your eyes watered, tears streaming down your cheeks. The strangers were still watching—more of them now, a small crowd had gathered—and you could hear their whispers, their gasps, their barely-suppressed moans of arousal.

"Look at her throat," someone said. "You can see his cock bulging in her neck."

It was true. You could feel it—that impossible fullness, that pressure, that sense of being completely filled from both ends as Randrak continued to prepare your ass and Sorthak continued to fuck your face.

"Beautiful," Sorthak said, pulling back just enough to let you gasp for air before thrusting forward again. "Our beautiful little mate. Everyone can see now. Everyone knows who you belong to."

Randrak's finger—then two, then three—pushed into your ass, stretching you open. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't relax. All you could do was open your mouth wider for Sorthak's cock and hope that your body survived what was coming next.

It was too much.

The world went dark.