The Unofficial Sequel to the Six-Year-Old Tama Cockvore Greentext that was never actually Cockvore: Still Technically Not Vore (working title)
Context: Six years ago, someone uploaded a fun greentext story about a Tama pulling the reader into his genital slit using his prehensile hemipenes. It's funnily titled 'Cockvore' despite it not really being so. This is a sequel immediately following the events in that story.
Here's a link to the original story: https://pastebin.com/hePmhRnA
Because it's short, I've pasted the full text below in case Pastebin ever nukes it:
Tama strips you down and cleans you up after he defeats you
Lots of gentle nipping and licking, you can tell he's interested
You've had to deal with horny monsters who were all worked up from the hunt before
He'd better be satisfied with a hand(body?)job, since he's way too big to have any hope of getting it in you
He rolls onto his back, and lays you on his stomach, just above his slit
You watch as it's pulled apart by his hemipenes emerging
As you suspected, they're huge
About as large as you are
You move in closer so that you and get this over with, when they suddenly reach out and wrap around you
You didn't know Tama's had prehensile penises
They gently massage and stroke your body, and you simply hold still and let him get himself off
You start to worry as they start squeezing and wrapping you tightly
Soon, they have you completely bound as their tips continue to caress your face and give your lips urethral 'kisses', leaving long stands of pre connected to you as they pull away
Their strength is impressive, you're totally unable to escape their hold
Tama licks your cheek and coos when you demand he let you go
You notice movement
His members are withdrawing back into his body, with you in tow
Your continued struggles are in vain-if anything, they merely give him more pleasure
He's panting and groaning by the time he's reached your knees
He wraps you and his twin dicks in his warm mouth and gently suckles for a few moments
They strain to push back out into his mouth, but he manages to control himself and continue pulling you in
He pulls off with a plop and you gasp for air
Now up to your waist, you desperately bargain for freedom
Your pleas fall on deaf ears as you're soon up to your chest in his slit
Stopping at your neck, he leans down to nuzzle your cheek and give a reassuring murr
You pant in exhaustion as the leaking points of his cocks curl over the top of your head and finally pull you the rest of the way inside
The whole thing seems like a bad dream. One moment, you thought you were about to give a handjob to a frisky Mizutsune. The next, his hemipenes had wrapped around you and pulled you into his genital slit.
You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been trapped in here. It’s pitch black and worse than a sauna—both in terms of heat and the sweat-drenching moisture. The internal walls of his slit are throbbing against your chest and back in time with the monster’s heartbeat, and every time you try to move a muscle, his hemipenes—still curled around your body—tense and constrict you. You can barely move an inch, let alone enough to attempt wiggling out.
It’s a small mercy you can even find air to breathe in here, but what you do manage to huff is saturated with the overwhelming scent of precum and the Tama’s bubbles. He must be an avid clean freak for even his most private parts, though you never thought the smell of bubbles could make you feel so light-headed. That might be the fault of the musk, however, given your cock has stood at attention since you slipped inside. Unfortunately, without room to move, your only source of relief for your arousal is when one of the hemipenes squeezes and throbs against it.
You’ve heard the Tama’s footsteps and felt his body rock and sway for a while now; he’s likely returning to his nest. As for what he has in store, you can only hope for the best…
Once the Tama’s body comes to a stop, you can make out a muffled growl before feeling his body curl up. He’s going to sleep with you still in here!? You start to kick and squirm as best as you can, but at your first sound of protest, the tip of a hemipenis flicks into your open mouth and gags you. You’re reduced to mumbling your now-inaudible voice against the fat end of his cock, for which he thanks you with a thick trickle of precum. You have to keep gulping it down to stop yourself from choking on it.
With his ‘passenger’ pacified, the Tama seems to doze off; its taunting yips are soon replaced by a slow, uniform rumbling coming from deep within his chest. All the while, you’re left to contend with your ever-dampening form. You can’t tell what proportion of the juices coating you is your sweat versus the Tama’s precum and bubbles.
As you try to come up with the next step of your master plan, you suddenly feel the walls clench down around you as the Tama jolts awake. Before you can figure out what’s happening, you feel his body move again, but this time the position of gravity shifts and leaves you disorientated. Has he rolled onto his back? You can’t be sure, and you lose track of which way is up—or, more accurately, out.
But thankfully, a tiny halo of light forms before your eyes, briefly lighting up the pink flesh and white bubble-n-pre mixture of the slit walls. Your energy returns, and you reach your arm forward to the exit. Suddenly, the light blots into blackness again. Well, more accurately, something black appears to be blocking the exit. You can’t make it out, other than to note it seems to twitch, though just slightly. But then you hear it—a series of rapid, loud sniffs. It continues in a pattern: a trio of inhales, followed by a single, powerful exhale of humid air, each somehow drenching another inch of your naked form.
In between the sound of the sniffs, you can hear soft cooing coming from the Tama, as well as deep, gentle growls coming from some other creature—almost as if it’s projecting its approval. The huffing continues for an excessive amount of time as you stare in complete bewilderment, trying to piece together what’s going on. To make matters worse, the slit walls appear to be twitching and clenching in time with the other creature’s breaths. The tips of the hemipenes entwining you jerk and throb in response, coating you in another layer of Tama precum.
Finally, the Tama yips in irritation. The mystery creature’s sniffer seems to pull away. In the moment of fleeting light—before the slit entrance clamps shut again—you can make out a blur of blue and yellow scales. There’s silence again, save for the ever-present sound of the Tama’s heartbeat, hammering away in your ears.
A bestial roar breaks the silence. If not for impromptu high grade earplugs—the slit walls—it could have pierced your eardrums. The faint light returns once more, but before you can move a muscle, something long and pink squeezes its way it. Instinctively, you try to move away, but the hemipenes hold you in place. As the visitor taps against your outstretched hand, you feel another patch of warm wetness against your sensitive skin. The object wiggles itself deeper into the cramped chamber; each sway from one side of the slit to the other stretches the outer slit walls, giving you a moment of brightness to make out what in the world is going on.
That wiggling thing… is a massive monster tongue.
Having now forced itself all the way in, the tongue transitions its movements from wiggling to lapping within the tight confines. Like a dog drinking out of a bowl, the creature curls its tongue to the bottom of the slit before flicking it upward—smacking against the upper wall. Each lap is accompanied by a moist splatter, which showers your face with a mixture of saliva and the good ol’ bubble-n-pre of the Tama.
While you start to panic, the Tama, on the other hand, is cooing and growling in joy. Though that’s understandable, given its genital slit seems to be receiving a very tender tongue-cleaning. It probably would have been fun to watch—if you weren’t stuck inside it. And to make matters much worse, the Tama’s hemipenes begin to inch forward with every pulse and dribble of precum, with you in tow—forcing you ever closer to the overly eager tongue.
With a powerful twitch from the hemipenes, you’re suddenly pushed into the path of that wet muscle. The creature’s next lick rolls up from your legs, coating your waist, chest, and face in a thick layer of frothy slobber. As if annoyed by your presence—or possibly, excited—the tongue’s owner snarls into the confines of the Tama’s vent. The intensity of the sound causes the slit walls to quiver from the vibrations, resulting in the Tama letting loose a high-pitched yip in time with another fat spurt of precum from both tips hitting your face.
As the monster’s snarl fades, it seems to redouble its speed in lapping at the slit and, by proxy, you. Your entire front half is soon treated to a merciless spasm of tongue thrashings which soon soak you from head to toe in monster drool. At least it was cleaning you of precum.
However, as the Tama’s hemipenes push ever forward, the monster’s tongue forces more and more pressure against your body. Soon, you’re squished between the heated surface of the tongue and the hardening hemipenes of the Tama. The sensation of the energetic muscle pressing and gliding along your cock—already throbbing because of the overwhelming musk of the Tama—makes you groan out in a muffled stammer.
You soon lose any self-control remaining and thrust your hips in rhythm with the monster’s tongue lapping. As if eager to help, the tongue twists to its side and begins to wag in a horizontal motion. The thick muscle brushes against your inner thighs and balls every time it passes between your quivering legs. What pushes you over the edge, however, is another juicy squirt of cum from the hemipenes, this time against the tip of the monster’s tongue. The tongue’s wiggling smears the potent, musky cum all over you, and with a guttural moan, your cock erupts—adding to the mess.
As the mystery creature feels your cum coat his tongue and your accompanying howls of pleasure, it rumbles out a growl of approval before honing its strokes to the source. Its tongue focuses on lapping at your cock, replacing its longer laps at the slit with a series of rapid and powerful strokes against just your waist. You groan in ecstasy as the monster forces shot after shot of cum out of you. Your passionate and prolonged orgasm drains your strength; the only thing stopping you from collapsing to the ground is the weight of the tongue pinning you against the unyielding hemipenes behind you.
By the time you’re spent, you’ve pumped out a sizeable puddle of cum, most of which is now pooled on the tip of the beast’s tongue. It stills its tongue—as if tease you with the mess of your climax—before lurching it to your feet. You tremble as you feel the tip of the tongue sluggishly glide up your entire body—glazing you in your own cum, and adding another fluid to the mix of juices coating you. You don’t even have the energy to recoil.
Though it seems like the Tama’s hemipenes have become impatient from the holdup. You feel a hard shove from behind and topple face-first onto the top of the monster’s tongue. Before you can find your footing, it jolts up, splatting itself (and you) against the roof of the slit. It lowers itself, but then laps upwards once more—with you still along for the ride. Each of its licks ends with you squished against the twitching upper walls. Over and over again.
As you’re left to groan into the thick and vigorous tongue, the hemipenes continue to inch forward, slowly pushing both it and you out of the slit. Despite being winded from the constant pressure of the tongue squeezing your form, you feel a glimmer of hope from seeing the glint of light seeping through the now-puffy outer walls of the slit. As you find your forehead brushing against the tight exit, you jerk forward and wiggle your head out. With a series of lewd squelches, you squeeze out—the moist vent clamps around your neck as you desperately gasp in the fresh air.
Well, mostly fresh. There’s also an unpleasant scent mixed in, reminiscent of dog breath. You blink clear the fluids from your eyes. As your vision comes into focus, you can make out two rows of razor-sharp pearly teeth, sandwiching what appears to be an endless black abyss. And despite being out of the heated depths of the Tama, you still feel intense heat and humidity washing over you.
Confused, you look up. Bright blue eyes glow back at you, surrounded by sharp cyan scales and shadowed by faded yellow horns.
You blink.
It’s still there—a very large and very close Zinogre
In retrospect, while it was obvious the tongue belonged to a monster of some kind, you failed to make the connection that a monstrous maw would naturally accompany a monstrous tongue. As a result, you didn’t mentally prepare yourself for the terrifying sight of having your head pressed up between the jaws of a frighteningly large and powerful Zinogre.
The Zinogre, clearly as shocked as you, tilts his head as he tries to comprehend the sight of a human head mysteriously appearing from a Mizutsune’s genital slit. Unlike you, however, he only needs a few seconds to get over your unexplained presence before promptly resuming his licks. He now slides his tongue out of the slit to roll it over your face as well, intrigued by how similar you taste to the insides of the Tama.
The combination of a ragged wave of humid monster breath against your head, a powerful vibration from the slit walls against your neck, and a ravenous twitch of the Zinogre’s jaws—as if eagerly anticipating chomping down on you—finally snaps you out of your stupor. In a panic, you try to squeeze yourself back into the relative safety of the slit, but the hemipenes are pretty content to hold you in place. Worse still, as you frantically try to push yourself against them, you hear a long coo by the Tama as his hemipenes twitch forward. You’re forced further out of the slit, and closer to the Zinogre’s looming maw.
With your shoulders now jammed between the quivering slit, the Zinogre’s tongue becomes more excited. It’s as if he’s just discovered that there’s more of you stuck in there. The monster begins to huff in anticipation, and you can swear the seductive cooing of the Tama is also becoming louder. You tilt your head towards the direction of the crooning and soon realise why; the Tama has curled his flexible upper body closer towards his slit to admire your (re)emergence alongside his mate.
The Tama’s head moves closer. His maw soon rests against your ear. You hear his staggered breaths and seductive coos and growls in complete clarity. You try to regather your wits, but just before you can shout out a protest to the horny pair, the Tama lashes his tongue against your collarbone. He strokes it upwards against your cheek and ends by flicking it along your earlobe. The Zinogre pauses his own affections to watch the Tama as he splats his tongue against your face once more. After watching a few more demonstrations, he decides to join in. He withdraws his tongue from the Tama’s slit and starts slopping it against the other side of your face.
You’re now being assaulted in both directions by drool-laden monster tongues, which dance over your upper body in an array of lavish licks. Occasionally, the floppy, wider tongue of the Zinogre tries to steal a taste of the side of you belonging to the Tama, but a quick yip causes his partner to retreat.
For a time.
Eventually, they both get too into tasting you. They no longer pay attention to their respective sides as they roll their tongue along your body. Each lap of the Tama’s tongue coats you in a fine layer of bubbles, which are soon scraped off by the Zinogre’s—leaving you drenched in viscous, frothy drool. Their tongues often overlap as they both try to lick the same part at once—usually your face; they seem to like that part in particular for some reason. And to top it all off, humid, rumbling breaths and deep growls and coos only add to the overpowering mix of sensations you’re experiencing.
You can now add Mizutsune and Zinogre saliva to the list of fluids you’ve marinated in tonight.
You’re so distracted by trying to handle the dual tongue assault that you overlook the hemipenes are as excited as ever. They continue to jerk and throb their way forward, pushing more and more of you out. The realisation only hits you once your waist meets fresh air. Your spent cock immediately becomes saturated in a double-dipping of drool from the pair of keen tongues.
Realising the widest parts of you are now past the tight grip of the slit walls, you try to escape by using your arms to push against the taut flesh surrounding the Tama’s vent. However, the Zinogre is quick to catch on to your plan and—once he finishes a circular lick over your drenched face—jams its tongue back into the Tama’s slit. The Tama gives a delighted coo as the Zinogre forces the entire outer length of his tongue in. His jaws advance closer to you as he progresses. You give one last, panicked glance at the monster’s piercing eyes; they portray only gluttony, though whether it’s lust, hunger, or both, you couldn’t say.
Soon, his eyes are eclipsed by its saliva-soaked maw. You’re left to gaze at the white tips of his fangs, the pink flesh of his maw, and the ominously dark entrance to his gullet.
With a sudden growl, the Zinogre flicks his tongue back, curving the tip upwards so it catches against the bottom of your feet. With a few forceful tugs, he yanks your body the rest of the way out. The slit walls ripple against your legs as you’re squeezed out with a wet splosh—into his awaiting maw.
You stumble forward and land with a soft splatter on the middle of his tongue. As you crawl around to clamber your way out, the Zinogre has unfortunately transitioned from licking at you to lapping at the mostly emerged hemipenes of the Tama. The tip of his tongue swings up and down in a wave as it dribbles against their throbbing flesh. Meanwhile, the hemipenes seem to have a life of their own and seek to rub along as much of the Zinogre’s tongue as possible.
Both block your only exit from the maw.
Well, the only safe exit.
As if to taunt you, the Tama’s white head comes into view from between the poised teeth of the Zinogre. A single, sapphire eye glares at you as he slides his yellow tongue against his own hemipenes, alongside the Zinogre’s. The pair work in tandem to work the remaining length of the hemipenes out.
Making a leap for it seems like the best cause of action—despite the three different obstructions. However, as you try to crawl forward to freedom, the Zinogre tilts his head up. Your slick body slides back an even greater distance. To make matters worse, the tips of the prehensile hemipenes are now in the Zinogre’s maw, and as they frail and twitch, they occasionally smack against you and cause you to slip backwards—ever closer to the point of no return.
Soon, you give up out of fear of the Zinogre becoming irritated enough to swallow you. You clench your arms around the thick flesh of the tongue as best you can as it continues to lavish affections on the Tama’s dual dicks. The tips continue to leak a steady stream of cum onto the Zinogre’s tongue, which forms into a small trail that oozes around your knees and feet and to the back of the monster’s throat.
With a loud yip, the Tama curls its body back out of sight, likely content to relax while his mate brings him to climax. The hemipenes are now twitching wildly as they twist and wiggle around the Zinogre’s mouth. Occasionally, a powerful pulse sends one cock bouncing up to splatter against the roof of his mouth, while other times, they twirl around themselves before smacking against the welcoming surface of the tongue. The pair sometimes split around the underside of the flapping tongue, before curling around its slick edges and meeting their tips together at the centre—as if pressing together for a creamy smooch.
A burst of booming yips and growl-like coos from the Tama, combined with the ferocity of the constantly leaking and throbbing hemipenes, gives ample indication you need to brace yourself. The flashing of purple fur from between the Zinogre’s jaws, followed by a rapid series of loud thumps—the Tama’s tail thwacking against the soft soil—suggests he can’t hold out much longer.
The Tama’s dicks entwine in a corkscrew as a wave of pulses works their way up his shafts. With a roar of bliss, a massive throb from the cocks showers the maw with an explosive shot of thick cum. The subsequent sprays are only more powerful. Thankfully, the tongue—now wagging frantically at the sensation of cream striking its tastebuds—bears the brunt of most of the spurts of cum. Still, the power and force are nothing to be reckoned with, and the pent-up Tama soon leaves a very sticky mess splattered all throughout his mate’s maw. It seems quite unbecoming of his species’ clean-freak personality, but now probably isn’t a good time to bring that up.
By the time the dual streams from the Tama’s cocktips wane—trickling into an unsteady stream of fluids—a thick glaze of cream coats every inch of the Zinogre’s steamy maw. The worst-hit are the Zinogre’s prominent teeth, the ridged roof of his mouth, the pool of fluids bubbling and frothing away at the back of its maw.
And, of course, you. Your face and back are entirely drenched in mucky Tama cum—again, highly uncharacteristic. And unfortunately, this stuff doesn’t have the cleansing aroma of soap to help diminish the potency of the dominant male’s masculine scent. It’s pure, unfiltered musk, straight from the source.
Having now satisfied his mate, the Zinogre’s tongue relaxes. Though a sudden, deep rumbling from the depths of the Zinogre’s throat reminds you that his maw is not a place to stick around! The still-leaking hemipenes pull away, giving you a view to freedom. Covered in restrictive gunk, you desperately crawl forward, hoping the Zinogre doesn’t forget you’re still in there before swallowing the Tama’s excessive mess. Or, even worse, simply not caring whether or not you are.
You make it to the tip of the tongue and try to find your footing to dive for safety. However, the night sky outside is quickly replaced by white and pink—the Tama’s head suddenly blocks your escape. His blue eyes glint at you as he hums a series of soft coos. He seems pleased to see that you haven’t yet disappeared. You freeze, uncertain of what his intentions are now.
They soon become apparent as the monster yawns its yellow mouth open and rolls its tongue out to greet you. Now used to being bullied by huge monster tongues, you don’t even bother to flinch as it splats against your face. He laps away at the thick mess of hot cum coating your entire body. The foamy saliva sticking to your skin in place of his goopy cream is almost pleasant—it’s as if he’s giving you a warm bath to help get you clean. Though another splatter of Zinogre drool against your forehead hints that the exercise would be better suited anywhere but here.
Finished with his cleaning effort, the Tama withdraws his tongue but continues to keep his jaws apart, showcasing his bubbly, yellow maw. Waves of warm air rush over your dripping form as he huffs at you. At the very least, the Tama’s pleasantly fresh breath is a welcome contrast to the oversized dog’s, despite being just as humid. As time goes on, the foam on his coating his maw seems to spread and become fizzier. His intentions remain as unclear as ever. Is he trying to dry you off? Is he trying to be seductive? Or is it a taunt? Maybe something worse—a threat?
You’re snapped back to reality as the Zinogre’s tongue twitches upwards. The monster slowly tilts his head upwards. You’re snapped back to reality as the Zinogre’s tongue twitches upwards. His head follows the same arc.
You gasp as you feel gravity start to work against your slippery form. From the first few degrees of elevation alone, your legs slide towards the back of his maw. With only a little more height, a thick torrent of gooey Tama cum and Zinogre spit pushes you even further back. The force of the fluids rushing over and around your body causes you to stumble and fall face-first onto the lifting tongue. You crane your neck up and see the bright eyes of the Tama peering down at you—his yellow nose twitching slightly as he silently decides your fate. You do the only thing you can—shout and throw your arm forward, as if pleading for the Tama to throw you a lifesaver. His pale white visage, still unmoving and unreadable, shifts further and further away as you slip deeper and deeper.
Just as you’re about to give up hope, the Tama's head shoots forward like a whip. He jams his snout into the Zinogre’s maw and—with acrobatic accuracy—clasps his mouth down around your outstretched arm. The mix of juices continues to rush past you and deeper into the maw, but you remain in place. With a gentle tug, the Tama pulls back his head back—with you in tow. You glide along the slick surface of the Zinogre’s tongue, and as you reach the tip, a sudden lurch pulls you the rest of the way out. While you feel like a rag doll, the swift motion helps you avoid grazing against the Zinogre’s jagged fangs.
You fill the sudden chill of the night gush over your saturated, sensitive flesh. Never has a wave of shivers carried so much relief. You barely pay attention to the growing pain in your shoulder from dangling from the maw of the Tama as you breathe a deep sigh of relief.
As you stop swaying, your vision focuses on the cum-filled maw of the Zinogre, inches from your face. Seeing you now ‘safe’, he snaps his jaws shut with enough force to crush a Dodogama, treating your face to another mighty splatter of drool and cum. With slobber leaking from the edges of his maw, he tilts his head up. A wave of ripples oozes down his throat. The sounds of slow, powerful gulps make it obvious that he’s guzzling the Tama’s gunk down his gullet.
That you could have been a part of that gloopy mess isn’t lost on you.
The process takes a surprisingly long time. You can hear the faint patter of his tongue flicking around, likely searching for any remnants of the Tama’s orgasm to send to the back of his throat to swallow. The Tama must have taught him how to keep his maw clean.
With one last, drawn-out gulp to down whatever excess fluids remain, he tilts his head back down. His piercing blue eyes gleam at yours. It seems your mixed expression of exhaustion and slight unease isn’t lost on him, as the tip of his tongue snakes its way out between his teeth in an apparent tease. Though seemingly not satisfied with just sticking his tongue out at you, he sluggishly opens his maw once again to show off its now spotless insides. Well, spotless if you ignore the copious trails of saliva cascading down from the roof of his maw. He brings his wide-open mouth closer before gifting one last, drawn-out huff over your drenched body, as if he was sighing. The breath bears the overpowering scent of Tama cum and dog breath.
Perhaps the Tama should also help with his bad breath in the future…
The Zinogre’s tongue slithers forward, and you tremble as it lashes against your legs before stroking your entire body in a single, upward swipe. Your eyes follow the head of the Zinogre as it pulls away. His black nose bounces against the Tama’s yellow one, before the Zinogre nuzzles its snout against the Tama’s pink head frills. The Tama returns the show of affection, and soon the ambience of chirping insects is drowned out by gentle growls and murring.
As cute and wholesome as the sight is, your arm is hurting from you being dangled in the air. At least the Tama’s not holding you with his teeth, though the soothing purring vibrating down your arm can only do so much to ease the pain. You wiggle, hoping it conveys the discomfort you’re in.
It does, thankfully. The Tama breaks away from the Zinogre and slowly reclines his upper body, rolling onto his back. As your belly brushes against the Tama’s vibrant purple chest fur, he opens his maw to plop you onto it. The fur is incredibly soft and luxurious against your naked skin—albeit slightly ticklish. You lift your head and meet the relaxed, sapphire gaze of the Tama. He opens his maw again, but this time his yellow tongue is coated in a foamy mixture of prismatic bubbles. You sigh as he coils the long muscle over your form, coating your back and sides in sudsy fluids. His tongue momentarily, only to return with another frothy layer of bubbles. He laps at his chest fur this time, mixing his soap in like shower gel to lather his fur up.
A pleasant, fruity aroma surrounds you, helping to rinse away the mix of leftover musk and bad dog breath. The soothing warmth of his chest fur and soapy spit causes your energy to leave you, especially after everything that’s happened. Still motivated to get you cleaned, the Tama uses his snout and tongue to move your semi-conscious, bubbly body around his fur. He wiggles you up and down to scrub at you, before using the tip of his yellow nose to flip you gently onto your back to repeat the process.
With half-closed eyes, you now see the Zinogre towering over you. Upon seeing your face, he brings in his own tongue as if about to slather you with another lick. However, he’s stopped short by a loud yip from the Tama and jerks his head back in a panic. The Tama likely doesn’t want his mate to undo all his hard work with a single, sloppy lick. A wet nose nudges you onto your belly again as the Tama continues his cleaning.
As the minutes pass, your eyelids flutter. It feels like you’re lying on the world’s fluffiest, sudsiest pillow, and the ever-present warm dampness and delicate scent only seem to tire you further. Soon, you feel another set of silky fur running along your soaked back. A powerful pair of golden, scaled forelegs come into view on both sides of the Tama’s head, before they recline. You’re too exhausted to even panic about the prospect of the huge Zinogre laying down on top of you. However, it’s good you don’t. While the added weight causes your face to be smooshed even deeper into the Tama’s chest fluff, the softness of their respective chests leaves you feeling as if you’re blanketed in a cocoon. A fluffy, bubbly and heated cocoon. As the Zinogre adjusts to get into a mutually comfortable position, he incidentally lathers his own chest fluff up using the foam coating you and the Tama.
You went from being squished between the walls of a genital slit, to being squashed between a Zinogre’s tongue and a Tama’s hemipenes, to being smooshed between their respective chests. It’s been a bit of a ride, but at least you’re ending the day feeling wonderfully relaxed and refreshed. Despite being constricted once more, it’s still a remarkable contrast to the sauna and musky odour of the slit. And you can also be thankful that you’re not bathing in stomach acids tonight; you’ve already been coated in enough monster fluids to last a lifetime.
Your last thought before you pass out is whether the guild will send someone out tomorrow to look for you, or whether you’ll be trapped between this frisky pair for a while longer.
Though would that really be so bad?