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Walter 'Walt' Wallace lived a life filled with holes. He had holes in his shoes. He had holes in his pockets. He had a hole in his heart. He had a hole in his stomach. His nicotine addiction was adding plenty of holes to his lungs. And the packing warehouse he worked at was overflowing with holes. Assholes.
'So what's a few more fucking holes to add to the pile,' Walt thought as he regarded his prospective home for the night — an abandoned housing unit sitting on the corner of Chester's 21st St and P St. Plenty of holes in the windows. Plenty of holes in the mortar. Plenty of holes in the roof. But unlike his place of work and the gym where he took his showers, this was a place he could legally sleep in.
Well, not legally — there was just no one around to call the cops on him. That was legal enough in his opinion.
With that mindset, Walt walked off the sidewalk — damp and dark with that evening's isolated shower — and kicked through the overgrowth that once was a front lawn, the shin-high grass flinging rainwater droplets with every flick of his hole-soled shoes. Arriving on the doorstep, he adjusted his burlap sack and braced himself against the door, only to stumble inside when it swung inwards.
Someone had beaten him to the punch.
After a moment's consideration, Walt shrugged the patched shoulders of his coat and continued to stumble inside. There was no reason why the man or woman (or thing) couldn't share an entire housing unit with another fellow squatter. Why, Walt had a handy piece of chalk in a little baggie — they could draw a line down the middle I Love Lucy style and leave it at that. The mental image made him chuckle. The chuckle made him cough. The cough made him sigh. A natural progression he was very familiar with. God, he could use another smoke.
Doing his best to ignore the nicotine hankering, he continued walk-stumbling from hallway to hallway and room to room. Like an exhausted minion of Lucifer, he was searching for a resting place that was the least holey — the suit in front of the green screen had promised no more showers for the rest of the night, but it paid to be safe.
Finally, he came to a room at the back of the unit that looked relatively comfortable. A single window projected four squares of moonlight on the middle of the wood floor like a ghostly rug, leaving the rest of the room in shadow and silhouette. No furniture save for what looked like a rotted mattress piled with torn tarp. Yes, this would be good. He tended to avoid windowed rooms since they usually meant he couldn't use his lamp for fear of drawing a patrolling pig, but there was no street outside the window for a cruiser to slide by on — just an overgrown backyard leading into an overgrown hill leading into an overgrown creek bordering an overgrown park. This would do. This would do fine.
Yawning and swinging his sack off his shoulder, he stepped into the room, his foot coming down on a floorboard with a squeaky creak.
The pile of torn tarp twitched.
Sucking in a breath through his teeth, Walt froze. After a pause, his face slid into his habitual diplomatic smile, even though there was no chance in hell the person on the mattress could have seen it in the dark. "Heeeey there, friend," Walt said, hand easing into his coat and clutching at his pocket knife. "Didn't mean to wake you — just missed the occupied sign on the door."
The form underneath the tarp shifted, a frazzle-haired head poking up from inside and turning towards him.
Walt took a step back. "I'll just be on my way to the opposite side of the house, now. No need for a fight, right, sir?"
The form kept motionless, head still turned in his direction. Suddenly, two furry triangles perked up on top of its scalp. Animal ears.
Walt tightened his grip on his pocket knife. "No need for a fight, right, ma'am?" he rectified.
The form shifted forward, its lower body still shapeless in the dark.
"Ma'am, I—"
Walt's words were cut off by a wooden 'BANG' as something stomped onto the square of moonlight in the middle of the room. He looked down and saw a black paw that looked big enough to belong to a bear. As the color drained from his face, Walt looked back up at the thing on the mattress. He saw her rose-colored eyes shining in the dark. He saw the silhouette of her tail swaying in front of the window.
And its spiked, bulbous, dripping tip.
"Fuck..." Walt whispered.
The tail snapped back. Dropping his burlap sack, Walt leapt back and slammed the door just as the tail whipped forward again. There was a sound like a pneumatic nail gun being fired in syrup and the door shuddered in his hands. He snapped his gaze up and saw two holes in the door, inches above his head. He turned around and saw two spines embedded in the faded wallpaper behind him, still jittering from the impact.
"Fuck!" Walt hissed.
He let go of the door and ran-stumbled down the hallway. He barely made three wobbly strides before the door exploded behind him, fragments of plywood clattering against the walls and floor as dust billowed out like smoke in an 80s MTV music video. "Where you going, friend?" the voice in the dust said. "Little Rosie didn't say she was against sharing a bed, did she?"
"FUCK!" Walt screamed.
"That's the idea!" Rosie said, the sound of her panting lungs and scrabbling claws filling the halls.
Walt sprinted as fast as his smoky lungs could take him, which wasn't very. He tripped, speed-crawling on his hands and knees as he heard another two spines whizz above his head and disappear into the darkness.
Rosie gave a horse chuckle as her scraping claws drew closer. "Come on, sweetie! Aren't you a little old to be scared of shots?"
Wheezing, Walt forced himself up, swaying onto his feet as the floor rumbled and cracked underneath him — a missed pounce from Rosie.
"Hold still, you tease!"
Walt hooked a hand onto the wallpaper and heaved himself around the corner, just as another salvo of spines ricocheted off a fire extinguisher case with a 'prrring!' of ringing metal and cracking glass. Down the way, a rectangle of starlight and street lamps marked the front door. Freedom.
Grunting like he was making a wicked tennis serve, he threw himself forward, nearly falling flat on his stomach as he expected another flurry of spines to fly over his head.
They did not come.
'Fuckfuckfuckfuuuck!' he thought as he pulled himself up. 'Please be out of ammo please be out of ammo please—'
Rosie was not out of ammo.
The spines came hot and fast. Three of them plunged into Walt's left shoulder blade, effortlessly penetrating his coat and tenderly sinking into his flesh like love-biting fangs. He crumpled to his knees, threw back his hands, arched his back, and opened his mouth to scream, but all that came out was a long, slow, gentle moan. The venomous spines went to work. His body turned heavy and his head turned light. He squinted his eyes as his vision took on a pink tinge in the periphery, and his hands — at first grasping for the spines — slowed and drifted down to the floor, his body following suit as he flopped forward onto his stomach. The wooden floorboards were cool against his cheek, contrasting the sudden heat that permeated his body like he was wrapped up in a comforter on a December morning. A strong, sweaty heat, yes — but a pleasant, strong, sweaty heat.
Especially around his groin; his dick had become so warm and sensitive that he was unconsciously humping against the floor, his precum-moistened boxers slishing inside his jeans.
With his cheek so close to the floor, he could feel as well as hear the vibrations of Rosie's claws as she slinked up behind him, looming over his gently twitching body. She pounced on top of him, the fluff of her paws brushing against his arms and her husky breath tickling his ear as she chuckled over her catch.
"See?" she whispered, running a paw along his arm and squeezing his hand between her pads. "Nothing to it; just a little prick, riiight?"
"Nrgh..." Walt said, shaking his head.
A wet smack as Rosie licked her lips. "Ah, you look like a reeeal treat, sweetie. Let's check the goods..." Adjusting herself, she grabbed Walt, brushing the spines free and flipping him onto his back before straddling him. She puffed herself out, giving him his first good look at her.
Walt shuddered. 'If you ever end up getting caught by one,' many a fellow son-of-the-soil had told him, 'at least make sure it doesn't end up being one of them.'
Well Rosie was one of them.
Every part of her stood stark in the street light shining through the front door. Her black, cat-like ears twitched atop a head of mousy, frazzled hair — the ears seeming to move in time with her twitching, rose-colored eyes as she looked down at her prey with a salivating, panting grin. She had her chin tucked into a fluffy black mane that reminded Walt of a fox-fur scarf, with her legs and arms covered in equally black and fluffy fur. A pair of leathery bat wings were folded behind her, and behind them was her tail. Its dull-red, segmented skin gleamed in the lamplight like chitin, and its bulbous end swayed back and forth behind her, popping up from shoulder to shoulder like someone desperately trying to get a good look from behind their taller friend. The fleshy opening of the tip was salivating even more than Rosie's mouth, the unending droplets of juice tapping onto the wooden floorboards below, sometimes splashing forward onto Walt's near-petrified body — he could feel the syrupy warmth even through his layers.
But despite the monstrous parts of her body, her head and torso were as beautifully human as any high-class escort. Pale, shining skin. Thick, clenching thighs. An overflowing bust and tight pussy hidden behind a lacy, goodwill-donated bra and panty combo. A body any schmuck like Walt would bed with in an instant.
It was just too bad about the tail — already another batch of spines were sliding back into place as it loomed above Rosie's grinning face.
"Someone's in trooouble..." she said, leaning forward and squishing her breasts between her furry arms. She wiggled her hips, grinding against Walt's erection as she gave her soft, smiling pink lips another lick. "It's been so long since I've seen such a handsome roughie around here... I'd usually just chase an ass like you out and get back to bed, but you..." Rosie leaned closer, the spicy, cinnamony scent of her mane filling Walt's nose as she rubbed her soft, pale cheek across his and gave his earlobe a little nip. "...you look good enough to eat."
Walt whimpered, his entire body trembling as he tried to buck Rosie off and lean away. All he managed was to scrape his heels against the floor and give the drooling beauty easy access to his neck. Giggling, she slid her face lower, running her tongue along his chin and kissing at his underjaw before nibbling along his jugular. "I could bite down riiight here," she whispered, every word coming out on an excited breath, the heat from her mouth billowing over his skin and layering on top of the venom-warmth pumping through his body. "Just a little chomp, and I'd have a delicious fountain to lap up while you slowly squirmed underneath me. Wouldn't that be fun?"
"Nrrrnruuugh!" Walt wailed, his fingers going clawed as he shivered in terror.
"Hmmm, maybe not," Rosie said, smirking and leaning back. She brought up one of her gargantuan paws and rested it on his chest. "Maybe I should go right for the source..." She pulled her paw away, most of Walt's clothing coming along with it. Before he even had a chance to scream, she leaned forward again, running her tongue along the red threads her claws had left behind on his chest. "Mmmmm... yes, maybe I should just bite right through here." She grinned, pearly-white canines gleaming in the dark as droplets of saliva trickled down her teeth, over her lips, and onto Walt's chest.
"Nuh... no, no, p-please, don'... don't hurt me..." he moaned, closing his eyes as tears of terror beaded at the corners.
"Don't hurt you?" Rosie said, her grin turning as venomous as her spines. "Oh, it's too late to be asking for things like that, sweetie. Not after you got me so worked up..." Saying that, she scooted back, taking the pressure off of his lower body.
Shuddering, he opened his eyes, hoping to see mercy in his attacker's face. Instead, he got an up-close-and-personal view of the thing swaying behind her wings.
"Yeees," Rosie said, peeking behind the bulbous end of her tail. "I think you deserve to have a taste of this."
Looking at it this close, Walt wondered if it would have been better to just let the monster tear out his throat or gobble up his heart. The thing was massive, looking big enough cover his face if it could bloom like a flower. Though chitinous and covered with spines, it ended in hole revealing a soft and fleshy interior, constantly leaking a near-transparent fluid that had a sweet and potent odor that reminded him of bell peppers.
"Whuh... what..."
Suddenly, the bulb struck forward and enveloped one of Walt's hands. He cried out, then shuddered with revulsion at the sensation. His hand was trapped in a slick, wet vacuum of warmth and pressure. The insides were ribbed with undulating folds of squeezing muscle, with tongue-like feelers swirling and coiling around his digits in sucking rhythm — he could feel every little tentacle as they ran up and down and between his fingers, holding him tight inside as the bulb quivered and undulated around his hand.
Walt gulped and shook his head. "N-No..."
"Oh, yes, sweetie," Rosie said with a smile and a nod. "You're going to get a nice, long taste of what my little friend has to offer. And you're going to get it right here." In a flash, Rosie hooked her paws inside Walt's jeans and tore them down, letting his strained cock flip out and stand tall in the cool air.
"Wha — aaaAAAHH!" Walt threw his head back, his lower body clenching and bucking up when Rosie tore her tail free of his hand and shoved it on his dick. The opening slid down his length and smacked against his groin, the impact sending a shower of droplets every which way as Rosie mashed it down as hard as she could, grinning all the while. Inside, the feelers that had twisted around Walt's fingers now twisted around his cock, seeming to trace the veins up his shaft as they coiled up and around, wriggling against his glans once they reached the top. His eyes clamped shut and he hissed through his teeth — he could already feel his balls straining with release, and she hadn't even started pumping yet. With a pitiful mewl of a moan, he jerked up off the floor, his cock erupting with cum as the feelers continued to tease his tip.
"Oh-ho, dear," Rosie said, her eyes flashing as the bulb subtly bloated with Walt's release. Giggling, she crawled beside him, keeping her tail latched to his cock and resting her cheeks in her paws as she gave herself a front-row seat to his O-face. "To think a guy like you could make a noise like that! I wonder what else I could draw from you..."
"W-Why?" Walt croaked as his first orgasm petered out.
Rosie tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.
"W-Why this?"
She laughed. "Because I love to play with my food, sweetie." Her tail trembled, small bumps running up from bulb to base as she siphoned up Walt's first load. "Now, don't hold back that pretty little voice of yours!"
"I — ahn!" Walt's entire body seized up again as Rosie's tail started pumping and pulsating around his cock. The feelers continued to slide and lick and coil around his shaft and tip, but now they were joined in by the rhythmic, clenching muscles of soaking wet pink flesh that made up the tail's interior. It sucked so hard that every pumping motion pulled Walt's hips upwards — it was as if it was trying to draw up his entire body inside. But even with that unstoppable suction, it couldn't keep the warm, slick juices from leaking out and trickling over his plump balls.
The dual sensation of suction and liquid fondling sent Walt over the edge once again. He moaned into the darkness, Rosie answering with a sigh of pleasure as he pumped another thick load of cum into her ravenous bulb, the fleshy siphon once again pulsing and trembling as it drew up each spurt.
"That's it, sweetie," Rosie whispered, grinning down at Walt's mess of a face. "Give it all to me. I want everything you have to offer — don't hold back a single drop or moan!"
Walt coughed, opened his mouth as if to respond, but only managed another soft moan as Rosie's tail went into overdrive, filling the hallway with wet 'schluck, schluck, schluck's as it started bouncing on top of his dick. Even after two orgasms within as many minutes, his balls still felt fit to bursting with seed. He closed his eyes, another strained moan slipping past his lips as the feelers coiled around his cock completely, doubling up the layers of pressure around his shaft.
As another climax burned inside of him, he couldn't deny it any longer. If this was going to be his last session of pleasure in life, he might as well make the utmost of it.
Once he came, he craned his head towards his attacker. "P-Please..." he whispered.
"You want me to stop?" Rosie said with a smile. "Oh, I just couldn't do—"
"N-No..."
Rosie's ears perked. "Hm?"
"P-Please... g-go faster."
Rosie's eyes widened, then went half-lidded as she gave her biggest grin yet. She chuckled before leaning over and giving him a peck on the forehead. "Well, I'm not one to turn down requests..."
Rosie's tail paused, but only long enough for her to shift herself so she could hug Walt tight to her chest, wrapping him up in her paws and draping a furry leg over his waist. As the spicy cinnamon scent of her mane filled his nose, she got a firm grip on him and started hammering away with her tail-pussy, the fat, wet bulb smacking against Walt's groin as she grinded her body against his. He jerked and twitched inside her fluffy embrace, mewls and moans filling what little space there was between them.
It went on for what seemed like a dozen orgasms, every spurting, moaning climax from Walt matched with a giggling sigh of pleasure from Rosie as her tail trembled and siphoned up his cum. His face turned soaked with his sweat and her saliva — Rosie having assaulted his cheeks with licks every time he managed a particularly cute moan.
But the moans didn't last forever. Even with three spines worth of venom backing him up, eventually his climaxes lost drive. His spurts became smaller and smaller until they could barely fill Rosie's bulb — much less cause it to bloat out. His very last climax was nothing more than a few bubbles of cum, quickly lapped up by the feelers like a final lick of ice cream from the bottom of a spoon. And with those last few licks, she popped her tail off of Walt's groin, his poor, milked cock flopping down between his pussy-juice-slickened thighs.
"And that's that," Rosie whispered, breath breezing around Walt's ear. He shuddered, tilting his head towards her. She was still grinning, canines as sharp and shining as her rose-colored eyes. She edged herself closer, moving so slow he could watch as his view was swallowed up by teeth that looked sharp enough to tear through sheet metal. A blast of her hot, husky breath forced his eyes closed; he shivered before it like it was a frigid wind on the Atlantic coast. Powerlessly, wrapped up in her hot embrace, he waited — waited for the stinging sensation of her canines sinking inside his flesh and stripping him to the bone.
Instead, he felt softness.
His eyes trembled open.
Her lips were on his.
Walt could only offer a small moan of surprise as Rosie's tongue slipped between his lips and brushed between his teeth. She held him tight, massaging and kneading her paws against him as her tail slithered down and wrapped around his leg. As she caressed the inside of his mouth with licks, his eyes slid shut again. His body, already exhausted, somehow became even heavier. His head — already spinning with terror, arousal, and strain — somehow became even lighter. For a moment, it felt as if he would faint, right there in Rosie's arms.
Before he had the chance to, Rosie ended the kiss, their lips parting with a mutual gasp and bridge of saliva. "Oh yes," she whispered, licking her lips, then licking Walt's. "You're definitely what I've been hoping to find."
"Whuh... wha... what—"
But Rosie just shushed him, gently easing herself off before standing up with him in her arms, using her tail to orient him into a bridal carry — knees tucked over one arm, back cradled in the other, paw pads acting as a pillow for his lolling head. Hugging him close, she made her way back to the bedroom.
By the time they crossed what remained of the door, enough of Walt's senses had returned for him to recognize that he felt like he had just run an Olympic marathon, and with lungs like his, that was saying something. He gently nodded his head to get Rosie's attention and made an effort to point at the burlap sack he had discarded in his panic.
"W-Wadder..." he croaked.
"Oh, of course," Rosie said with a nod. She stooped over the bag, replacing the arm supporting Walt's legs with her tail so she could rummage through his belongings. Once she found a half-finished bottle of Dasani, she handed it off to Walt. As he downed it in three gulps, she dragged both of them over to the mattress and flopped down, her leathery wings unfurling and enveloping them both. Thankfully, the bedding wasn't even half as rotted as Walt had taken it for, and had a pleasant smell of cinnamon and sweet peppers.
"So," Rosie said as she made sure Walt was nice and snug against her chest, "what do you go by?"
"Wuh... Waddler..." Walt said, coughing on the last few drops of water.
"Sorry sweetie, I'm pretty sure that was the only bottle you—"
"N-No, Walter. Name's Walter."
"Ah. Cute name. Almost as cute as mine: Rosie."
"Yuh... pretty cute," Walter said, emptily staring up at the ceiling as his head continued to gently loll against Rosie's mane.
She chuckled and planted a kiss on top of his head. "Well, Walter, I've been saving up a stash just for this occasion. How do you feel about getting us some IHOP take-out in the morning? My treat!"
"Uh..." Walt said. He opened his mouth to elaborate, but all that came out was a hoarse yawn. Then, after one last loll, his head flopped against Rosie's bust.
And he drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in arm, tail, and wing.
