Helping Your Fellow Man

Why did his dick taste so...good?

A hunger thrums somewhere deep in your body; not where one would anticipate like in the stomach, but instead at the far back of your lust-addled mind, tempting fictive hands to guide your own in working more out of this man. It feels good to take from a fellow Pokemon like this. But why now? Was it some primal urge that had been dormant within your being this entire time? Up to this point, you believed yourself well-meaning and respectful. Having ingested a load from this bound victim though, could the same still be said?

The last time you can reflect on such a moment was when you had a once unrelenting weight stewing amidst your core. An infected Pinsir somehow tempted a carnivorous desire within you, to take and enjoy, for that animalistic and foreign feeling for crabmeat. And here you were, standing in this dangerous place, repeating that cycle. The deed may be different, but the selfish impulse for pleasure and sustenance is all the same. You wanted more. You simply want.

With a final gulp to drink the ending sputters of the spire, your slickened lips suction around tightly to clean its navy inches in a hungry tug. The cock stiffens out and succumbs to the pull; a loud and ceremonious _pop _echoes out in this webbed chamber.

"R-Rguh..." A faint but obvious puff of air escapes the Machoke's lips while his body attempts to replace its lost energy with oxygen. His sweaty body works to manage the stress, heaving cool air into his lungs, and stewing off the heat burning in his impressive muscled stature. No amount of strength could resist a desperately required blowjob to the dick-starved mutt. Your own lungs get to retrieve the very air, but the wafts of his body already have your senses nostalgic for it. In an immediate nuzzle, your nose squishes against the underbelly of the twitching shaft. The Machoke's meat shines in the honey of your jaws, proud to wear its coat for any and all to see, even if you're the only admirer. The coat does little for the prick considering it shivers in the glaze getting colder without the home of the mouth.

It feels too good to share this moment, even if in this scenario you're both the recipient and the user. How wrong could it be? Clearly it was a charitable act if this poor Machoke was trapped here for who knows how long, and aching a cock all day with no hope of relief in sight, literally in his case. He couldn't so much as even scratch his nose, so how irritating could a man go without his prick feeling a well-deserved touch; you knew this rhetorical answer. Hands be damned, he got off to your tongue. The taste of his strong penis still soaks at the buds of the muscle, causing your tongue to lull a phantom length around in a fantasizing bath. Why settle for fiction, when reality was just another mouthful away...

You gaze at the horrid mess of saliva soaked the blue tower, admiring your work like art as it glistens the hues of the Golden Hive's walls. For some reason it just made you more cock-hungry, if not burning with some pride.

It would be foolish not to indulge that growing pressure welling up inside your being. A hot tightness has heat lining your thigh as you surge an erection of your own. Anxious pre-nut drools out of the thing, reacting to your own acts for its own needs in getting off, and yet you refuted the impulse to simply jerk-off. That would be boring. You can pump yourself off any night or morning you wanted; it's not every day one can get off to an attractive hunk at their mercy.

You nose into his fat bare balls, prodding a nut to lift its rotund mass up and squish it against his wet hilt, flaring your nose as you do so just to inhale more of him into your lungs. While your lips purse to kiss it in a reward of gratitude for the spunk it provided, his balls flinch in together, with the Machoke grunting out from parted teeth and showing his mouth properly for once. "A-Aauh...fhuh..." Even if he couldn't see or communicate, it seemed like he was grateful too. Still, it wasn't enough to stimulate him properly conscious. Yet...who's to say a round two couldn't? In fact, there are two more men at either of his sides for you to help too. Surely one would wake up from the erection stupor with some Lucario attention, and make it all the easier for the others. You are here to wake them up after all.

It fled your mind what you even wanted these hostages specifically for before, the notion to save Jackal and Gold had drifted away for you to instead focus on some nw partners you can indulge on. Not even Razz crosses your mind. Your eyes had tunnel-vision so much so that the Machoke earned all of this attention, and you've yet to even tickle at the other two.

The Jolteon and Excadrill are bound all in the same manner; slightly leaned back in the spider web, with their wrists tied out and above their heads with the ankles bound wide, offering plenty of spread space for their pricks to surge free. The X-shaped fashions gave you plenty of leaning room to avoid touching the web as long as you used their bodies as leverage for your hands. You literally can lean on them to not get stuck yourself.

Even after sucking the Machoke off, you expect his rawness to settle in and go half-flaccid at some point...but instead, after a minute of rubbing your black nose with that wet dickmeat, he remains stiff all the same. Poor guy. Whatever got these men hard is deep in their system. Maybe working them off even harder will help. Sweat. Breaths. Cum. Get it all out of their bodies through any channel you can from all the stress.

Reaching over to the left, you run your palm up the curvy thigh of this Jolteon twink, feeling the more bristled fur compared to yours. His knees twitch in reaction and an **** bite of his bottom lip tells you how pent up he was too, no glance of his dick needed. Not that it would stop you from inspecting it either in your peripheral. He was smaller than the Machoke, but no shame in that. It just made your forepaw all the bigger for him to feel, noted with your hand creeping up the curved line where his thigh meets his pelvis, tracing the sensitive path until you reach your mark with a curled grip. The blinded Jolteon pries his mouth apart in nervous, excited gasp, flinching his waist up forward to try and break through to the other side of your hand, but the spider web sticking to his yellow bubble butt denies him much progress. That's fine, you're here to help.

Without really spending the time to work up a natural pace, your wrist bobs in place, eager to show how fast you can go for this supposed speedy Eeveelution. His dick is pumped into your palm as you wobble him in place against the web; every tug lunging him up while the rebound flattens his back against the spider's net. His mouth sharply gasps, revealing how cute his voice can be, for it tempts you to assuredly get this boy spitting his cum out. You wanted to know what an moaning ograsm sounded like for him.

Which leaves the plump mole to your right. His portly size has his belly swell harder than the other two healthy figures, needing more air and beading with wet heat from all the attention he's been made to listen to. Even if he wasn't all there in his headspace, the chorus of cock-chugging, the growing of body heat, and the lack of personal attention for himself got his figure already antsy. He wouldn't have to wait long thankfully, as your right palm rests to his fat stomach to pet across its surface, feeling the incredibly short fur that felt almost like skin. The big mole shudders, all before flexing his thick chode up. What the meat lacked in length, he made up for in width. The log of flesh flexes from its brown sheath, eager to join the fate of his fellow inmates.

Your hand squashes over the knob of the shaft until gripping up underneath it, and mirroring your work with the Jolteon, you pump him off too, no man left behind. The pair huff and gasp, settling into their bindings to enjoy the ride now, getting to share this moment with you finally. Your arms could muster themselves better than your legs could at the moment, so you were certain this wouldn't take forever, especially after the centerpiece came easily to your jaws.

Thinking of such, you gaze on that cold, wet Machoke dick again to feel this familiar temptations. If this brawny man was up for a round two, surely you were too.

Your lips part with an eager inhale, leaning your jaws forward to encompass his shaft yet again, and reuniting one another with a sealing swallow. "Mmlph..." You thrum your own noise around the cock as he jabs your gullet again. Bless his size. He was so damn big. It was like you were welcoming his mast back home. With your hands preoccupied, you simply have to settle with relying on only your neck to bob his shaft in place. Your gullet happily clocks in its work, already fitting the bell-end through to lock around in an awkward ****, but your head was going to have to carefully navigate towards this sweaty juggernaut's lap without mashing into the web itself.

You were not to be another fly caught in this trap.

"Schlhk-mnh--" Your head tilts in place, helping to twist the throat walls and cheeks around the erect Machoke, feeling those inches strengthen in place to jab deeper into the esophagus. Your nose has to take the breaks of air that it can between the series of pumps so you don't fully gag, but it was hard not to keep going ever-constantly. Your tongue bathes around in warm curls or long doggy-laps, heating his meat back up from the colder cruel world, as it safely snugs in this meaty wet pocket to offer his pre again. Whatever kept him intoxicated, it certainly kept him leaking. The ballsac had to work overtime in making another batch for you to inevitably swallow down, enforcing the product goes down the line into your greedy pit. Your stomach growls even. You were hungry. When was the last time you ate? Despite only having a source of jizz right now, you'd have to figure out how to sate that burning need of your core. Maybe after-

In that moment, the Jolteon twink gives in. You were so enraptured in sucking this fighter off, it slipped your mind of how hard you were squeezing the poor lad and edging the tip of his prick. In a few sparks from his face, his mouth wetly pries apart, his sharper teeth stranding with saliva that wobbles in the rippling moan he lets out in the room. The amount of noise echoing in this place doesn't even strike you as a problem. The songful voice of the Jolteon helps invigorate you into offering noises of leisure despite the dick-stuffing of your throat. How grateful you were to hear him reach his peak, and even better yet that you feel the lines of jizz now rocketing out of him. He spits a mess onto the workshop floor, getting some of it through your own fingers without a single break given. You jerk all the faster, seeing how far he could fire as he struggles against his bindings.

"A-Ah! Shi...hahh...! Noh..." He mutters incoherently in whatever limbo his mind swims in. But his body certainly reacts in reality, jerking his hips and batting his ass against the web. "Aahmh...nmhn...!"

The Jolteon works off the last of his load before another molten heat suddenly glazes your right hand. A mere glance of the eyes reveal the Excadrill spilling his own load, as his voice mutes from how agape his mouth goes; his belly poking widely out from a gasp as thick semen spurts free from his chode. The cum was dense, too heavy to go as far as his fellow twink managed, leaving it to glaze over your hand like a pastry to coat. The fat nuts pinch in, having plenty to offer and paying its tithe to this generous Lucario.

Two down, on more to go. Even if the Machoke had gone once before, you knew he had more to feed you with. That primal urge in your headspace demands you take more; no, take all of what you could. With an inspired motivation now, you lunge your muzzle forward, nearly hilting the Machoke each time you take your plunge. Every swallow brings you closer to kissing his groin, and the pre being dumped into your sloppy gullet excessively floods in copious spit after spit, the longer you keep up this hastened and perverted effort. Your eyelids droop, tasting the salt of his sweat and cum, hoping he was loving this as much as you were. Whether he wanted it or not, you knew he wouldn't be able to deny its wonderful relief.

Perhaps after this, you can take off his silken blindfold. You wondered what his eyes looked like, how handsome he may fully be, and how they would react to seeing a hopefully beautiful Lucario sucking him off...

You go to pull your mouth away, just for a moment...only to make it up to his crown where your lips couldn't pop free. A flinch stills you, and another attempt offers no extra distance. You feel the fur of your bare chest pull at your pectorals, and with a strain, you hear the sticky sensation of the web tightening in place. The once drunken eyelids lift up in surprise. You were stuck. Leaning too hard against this Machoke's groin, your torso took a plunge too far, glueing itself in the space between his spread legs. An awkward grunt chokes around his cock as you try to tilt your head away off to the side in hopes to free yourself from his meat, but an **** set of bucks just jab his shaft at your cheek wall, bloating it out and causing spittle to spurt from your lips, soaking down his shaft or over your jawline.

"Uhlgk--nrh..." You wince, struggling to free yourself from your own doing, attempting another turn of your head the other way.

...But a sudden **** pushes you to swallow the full mast of the meat again. Confusedly, you gag in place, finding something tough and firm pushing your skull.

"...And what's this I find? A thief taking my product~?"

A stranger's voice speaks aloud to alert your ears up. It was feminine, coy sounding even without anger. It takes a moment, but your brain clicks in to remember your environment. This wasn't your private dorm or a sanctum made for your leisures. This was a workshop for a trapsmith, in a hive that deemed you and your friends to be dinner. That primal lust burning within you has a snuffed quelling all of a sudden when you return to yourself. "M-Mglhk?!"

Before you can react to this revelation, a sudden wet coldness strikes your left hand, with white liquid silk glueing itself over your hand to trap it to the Jolteon's surging junk, before a second wad hits your right hand. Both are bound to the men you worked off with them, **** to feel them flex in their prisons to leave your arms widespread. "The least you can do is finish what you started, little pooch. If I knew a lustful horny boy like you was lurking around our home, I wouldn't have bothered with these three~" The voice adds from behind you with another pushing pressure.

The Machoke's cock crams all the way into your throat, locking you into hilting the shaft as fas as you could go, and remains there. Your nose mashes against his crotch and your chin buries into his balls, denying you any room for your head to budge back. "U-uUghl--ghhk!" A gross, bad noise exits your full throat, struggling now and straining the penis. Without your nose, without room in your neck, you couldn't breathe. You didn't even get a good inhale before this moment, evident with the burn in your lungs you begin to already feel. Try as you might to move your arms, they're bound without the use of any of this vile woman's grip.

In fact, it didn't feel like a hand was even mashing at the back of your skull. The texture was like that of Razz's exoskeleton body, with two firm claw digits gripping right behind at the ears with the ball of a hind kicked forward. She was using a mere leg to keep you cock-lodged and **** to this lap. You endeavor to move, unable to even get a glance at your aggressor, but you at least suspect them as none other but the one you were warned of.

Valentina. And she caught you in her shop, dining on her toys.

The dry but amused voice from behind you simply taunts with a nudge of her hind, pushing your nose flatter to the Machoke's abs, "...Strange, I don't think I've ever seen a Lucario in person before. Well aren't you the rarity. Do you mutts often lurk about in the shadows, hungry for men~? Thirsty for their seed? You're more of a disgusting leech than a proper person." She berates you, twisting her hind in place and leaning in against her own lifted leg, resting an elbow on her knee, blindly to you. However this spider woman looked, it both scared you and relieved you that you didn't have to look her in the eye for this predicament.

"It is honestly troublesome enough to have to rely on males for the mere purpose to add to the Hive's numbers; Not with your pointless selves, goodness no, but I'm due for another batch of daughters soon for her Majesty. How fortunate nature deems you necessary to continue that process. And yet you truly only serve that one and only purpose, don't you? Because it's in your nature, after all." The leg mashes you tighter, forcing any leftover air in your lungs to bubble the spit around the Machoke's meat. "You only think with your cocks. You're a set of genitals piloting around what happens to be a body, helpless wandering from one rut to the next. And even in this very place, I find a lost penis wandering his way right into my web...~"

The evil arachnid revels in a laugh despite her disparagement with your sex, leaving her cruel gaze up to your own imagination. Any amount of struggling just has your hands honking the spents messes of your supposed allies, who to this point, remain delirious to your predicament. None of the sex helped you. It merely doomed you.

Despite the harsh pressure at your skull, you find your head to grow light, and the burning in your chest to clench too strongly for your lungs. You were ****, drowning by this Machoke's dick, and it only further digs your grave as it lazily spasms in place. The brawny naked man groans again, emptying a second batch of jizz that you regretted asking for. Thick gunk floods your throat, further blocking off any hints of air within you, and causes your mind to start drifting away. Your eyelids become too heavy to lift, with small lights flickering in the ever blanketing darkness of your vision.

"That's it. Drink your fill." Valentina utters in your ringing ears. "A leech like you should remain blind. Eat and breed. You're no better than any other of these pointless males, but I shall fix that~"

You didn't want to be blind from the world. You didn't want to lull away from reality. You didn't want to be pointless.

But your body succumbs to its lack of requirements; no air, no hope. You lazily swallow at the Machoke's second helping until your throat loses the strength to do so. You sag against his lap, and fall prey to the spider.

Her voice echoes in your head as it blanks out to the void of darkness, "...I will make you worth something, Lucario. Before we inevitably find a healthier male and toss you aside~"