Machoked for Words

...Something feels likes it's changed within you. A switch that's been daring to flip to the other side finally had the lightest tap to send it on over. It's uncertain if this was at the fault of the infection, if there was some societal cause for your sudden thirst, but your lips wince for...dick. An insatiable pull has an empty weight being swallowed down your throat, yet it relieves nothing in your system. A dangerous curiosity has you staring at the three men bound in place against the wall of this workshop, rousing a warmth in your sheath and a hunger in your gullet. A silly idea burns in your head.

What if you stimulated them into waking up? There wasn't anything else in the shop that looked useful. Who knows what concoctions or **** these men go through. Perhaps you could grant them a merciful touch, or better yet, a rewarding one. Excuse it however you may, you find your legs moving on their own and your hands eager to touch one of these bound males. Your view of them gets all the better when stepping in closely. Despite being left in this somewhat cool room, their body heat emanates together to waft an exciting warmth that you can already feel. A nervous breath exits your lips, and your eyes take in each of them. For some reason, it feels so much better when you get to take your time with them. The bound men had or showed no notion that you existed at all for them; they simply breathe and flex their cocks. The pricks jitter in the air, pulsing with what looks like a never-ending boner to fatten their cock muscle and pulsate the dick veins. Whatever this Valentina did, it certainly worked on boys.

The Machoke at the middle takes center-stage for you. His brawny body was very much on display with buff upper body muscle rippled like a widened runway to his lap. His skin was a deep indigo; a dark blue that had a matte shine to it until it got to underneath at his arms or at his forehead, where beads of sweat were visible. His eyes may have been bound in the white webbing of silk, but his cheeks were obviously rosy with heat. His mouth huffs slowly but steadily. The ceaseless arousal burning in his body kept not just his junk pumped up, but his heart beating hard and his body perspiring. The small beads of sweat just make the indigo shine better like gloss. Your tongue strokes around in your mouth as you watch like a voyeur of this muscled body builder be silently helpless until you or someone else did anything. You even had the power to not do anything at all. You could just let him suffer a boner without so much as even a flick.

But this was about you earning an ally, right? You'd help him. He needs your help before he can help you.

You nervously lift a hand and drift your forepaw in close to feel the cock's own expelling heat, all for your fingers to meet their target. The dick jumps in surprise, reacting to the touch, scaring you that the Machoke might protest, but he just answers with a low noise deep within his throat. It manages to escape his lips as a short moan of relief.

You were definitely helping.

Encouraged with some confidence, you gently run a finger up along the exposed underbelly of his prick, having the meat trace with the digit all the way up to its crown before you let the spire naturally flop back into place. It surges as it wobbles, and the Machoke rewards you with another pleasant breath. His large dark pecs inflate with his takes of air, and then relax with his moans. Pleasant to watch, you retread the same action, over and over, lining his dicks up close to his stomach before letting it throb in a tight arc. By each prod, you feel the strength in his penis flex in delight, as it provides an offering of his own nectar for you. A fat bead of pre-nut drools out by another touch, catching your fingertip even as you pull it away just to see the goo suddenly stretch in a strand. The bridge of pre wobbles like a crystal silk web of your own making, having you slowly circle your finger around at his penis. The pre string thins out the longer you weave it, but it clings and hugs around the spire it was milked out of the moment it touches the skin. The dark blue shines in pencil thin lines thanks to the pre soaking it, which causes your tongue to roll around inside your mouth again.

You feel like a pervert, but clearly this room and these traps were designed by a pervert. When in the Hive, do as the Hive-folk do. This Valentina was definitely a pervert, but at least you weren't the reason the men here are bound.

Mental gymnastics aside, your lust gets the better of your judgement; you wanted to feel his dick, and your palm would have it.

Your fingers grip around at his sturdy cock, feeling it resist at first with a stiffened jump, but it remains trapped by your hand. The thick spire is left to squeeze against your palm and fingers, pumping with the drunk Machoke's heartbeat to meet its rhythm. His fat swollen balls flinch together for a squish, but you watch as another happy glob of pre bleeds out from the cocktip. Cum-letting, the dick just oozes with the warm gunk as you see it soak into the tight crevices of your fingers, getting you to finally work your wrist. In an idle pump, you start lathering the inside of your grip in his own contents, hearing the rising sounds of squelching and sticky wetness echo lightly in the room. His balls bob in place, occasionally thumping your hand if you bother to put real work into the handjob, and test his mast.

He was a wild nine inches, no, ten inches tall with this monster. The muscle on display wasn't just for his limbs or torso; his very cock thickened by the stress.

"R-Rrhgh...rh..." The Machoke groans, twitching at his lips despite how they stay open. You ponder for a moment if he was waking up, if you were succeeding at all, but he says nothing of note as you keep going. His waist instinctively just leans into your grip, as if you had him. As if you had all of him. That despite all of his brawn and strength, he was a useless man of might if you just held him by his dick. It stimulates your own cock, indulging in this power fantasy made manifest, which transfers with your hands jerking tighter. His dick was soaked and shining in his pre; a thin layer of glaze to keep his meat annoyed yet happy. It certainly made the handjob better for himself.

You open your lips to speak, but find yourself, too, at a loss for words. This guy was meant to wake up and help you, right? Surely you ask him if he's awake, to let him know you're not his captor...or, perhaps, you save it for just a little while longer... Part of you wants to see this Machoke actually cum. If he was this pent up, helping him finish was a charitable act, surely. Whoever Valentina is likely blue balls him day by day; you're a god-send at this rate.

You hilt your index and thumb down to his lap, holding it in place to have his spire twitch awfully in place, until your pursed lips meet his meat at the tip. A salty taste dabbles at your tongue, but you grow to like it when swabbing your tongue around the bell-end of his cock, swabbing the purplish head and working it between your set of teeth. Your jaw widens more than you think it would with his size, but your hunger demands you take him in like this. When were you ever going to be given an opportunity like this again? Three bound guys for the taking...and you weren't even done with this first one...

You grunt at the Machoke's meat digging over your tongue, but your lips seal over his length and you ride that already slick underbelly over the bed of your tastebuds. You wallow the wet muscle to stroke his inches, listening out for any reaction, eyeballing whatever he flinches. His big pecs twitch in together sometimes, and his own mouth flares a lip up off to the side; he offers no sign of being conscious, but his reaction to stimulation was fruitful.

"SCchhl....schlk, mlhm...scklk..." You ripple your mouth in a suckle, reverberating the roof and tongue of your maw to work his shaft and swallow away to it. The gulps pull at his cocktip, and the suction brings out more of that eager pre-nut from his thick balls. The hot batch strings right through your gullet, filling it faster into having to swallow out of tune. "--ughlk, glhk."

The throat flexing the gunk down just squeezes the bound fighter's junk even more, forcing him to leak heavily. Bobbing your head to help with the motion, the webs he was bound to strain about, helping to wobble him steadily like a hammock net to meet the pace. Your lips kiss around his hilt when swallowing the shaft deeper into your throat, feeling it fatten out your neck and mak a visible bump to it. Your eyes strain, fluttering even, as you taste him. Pure malehood. Warm. Natural. A tinge of sweat. It surged a feeling in you that had been dormant for too long; giving in like this just bolsters your starvation for dick.

Too enamored in the moment to question it or stop though, you hungrily twist your muzzle in place, hungrily lapping your tongue to course around this random dude's dick. The penis suffers your drooling mutt mouth and starved swallows. Pre-nut coats your throat as he fires it off, and his body muscles just flex in place, unable to free himself of his silk bindings. At this point, he wasn't consciously trying to escape; his limbs just react naturally to feeling something. Sweat trickles from his naked body and his air exhausts out. Whatever noises he makes, they weren't pretty or controlled, they were real. A real helplessness of absolutely pleasure, there wasn't anything prideful about it.

The noise riles your cock-hunger into swallowing tightly, sending the brawler far over the edge as you go. Minutes pass, and you're wallowing your gullet over the tower with a fervent bob of your head as he uselessly lays in the web with nothing to aid or resist you with.

The shaft spasms and his sweaty balls pinch in together. In a sudden rupture, molten heat spurts deep past through your gullet, feeding you his pleasure and rewarding your kind act. You still didn't know how long he's been pent up, but with the amount of jizz he's currently unloading into you, it was far too much to leave sitting in his balls all week. You've done this stranger a service, a great deed, so much so that you forgot why you even sucked his dick off in the first place. You just drool over his groin, cock still lodged in your mouth, chugging at his cum and size.

"Mmlglp...gllgp...gglmbp...mmph..."

Your eyelids relax in a droop over your vision and you settle in his heat. Flares of your nose just inhale at him, and your delighted cum-drunk eyes stare at his chest as it lifts and drops in relieved stress. Even if he woke up or not, you were pleased to drink his load...

...And strangely, you craved more, considering your own prick was untouched and at full mast.