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Warm	By : WhatTheHellMan Category: +M through R > Monster Hunter Views: 3524 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Monster Hunter nor anything associated with it, it's characters or anything of that nature. I get no money from this. Scorn maybe, but no monies.

Chapter List
- 1-Well Shit
- 1
Fuck it was cold. Too fucking cold. Exhaustingly cold. The spreading warmth of the hot drinks felt like years ago now and he cursed himself bitterly for being a stupid idiot. Blood stones. And he was wearing the Loc Lac goddamn fucking armor. It was great for the heat of the desert, and for carrying around heavy loads, sure. Which he'd thought he was grabbing this time around. But what was he sent to fetch? Fucking bloodstones. Fit-in-the-hand convenient as hell bloodstones. He could be wearing something toasty and fully inclusive but no. No he was in danger of freezing his nuts off, toes at least, in nothing but a shawl, boots and a stupid fucking dress.
He knew it was a kilt but fuckit, he was too cold to think.
His arms were like ice, and he had broken (again) the last of his picks (again), and had a bag full of rattling junk and not nearly enough of the little round fucking little bastards. Boots grinding and scuffling as he stumbled into the cavern once more, pausing to blow on his hands to little effect, he tucked his freezing fingertips into his underarms, head down and utterly fucking miserable.
And when the scream hit him, there was just nothing he could do.
He could've been watching, of course.
He could've used proper armor, or brought more drinks, or more food, or had better luck.
He might've done it a few times, and gotten the hang of it a little more.
But now, as his ears rung and his cold hands wound in his hair, he mused on the uselessness of hindsight. Okay he didn't, he checked to see if his ears were bleeding. He'd never heard anything like that bef-
The first smash clipped him, the second sending him to the cold gritty cavern floor. Stars blazed and he shivered and cursed, instinctively trying to run only to be brought up short, hands on his knees and heaving great lungfuls of frigid cold air, achingly chilled and dry as death, eyes closed.
When the thing hit him, there was just no hope.
It was at least warmer. Oddly soft and silky fur of a disturbing flushed red pressed him down, the rubbery flesh below disturbing to say the least as he felt himself pressed to the floor. He couldn't even see the thing enough to turn his head, pebbles and chips of old cracked bone ground into his cheek as he was pressed flat.
It wasn't moving. Why wasn't it mo-
When the things, whatever they were- (hands, it has hands on it's wings what has hands on the tips of their /wings/?) grabbed his boots he was able to kick them off, scrabbling to try to wriggle out from under it, fighting as hard as he could. But he just abraded his face, exhausting himself further. It was getting hard to breathe.
When he felt the little two fingerlets (well, little was relative, each was thicker than his wrist) his kicks were far more feeble. Rubber and velvety soft short fur. Like felt. It was odd how the exhaustion made his mind crawl like cool molasses. Like felt. It felt like felt. His fingers dug runnels in the cold dirt, skipped over glassy stones and the muddied slush. A stolen breath heaved into his lungs as the thing shifted. The fingerlets struggled and fought and found their better grip, and as he felt what seemed to be the wings drawing down around him, his fingers found purchase of a stone and clung there, gripping hard enough even with the little chips of bone digging their way under his fingernails. Out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the little soft glistening things, pale and blunt and soft sliding from some gelatenous mass and wriggle idly in slow undulations towards him.
Huh.
Maybe that's what this thing is-
Another wrench, but his hands refused to let go. Another. His grip failing, and his fingernail bleeding, hot welling fluid among sharp stinging pain he was ripped free of the rock, groaning in pain and heated embarrassment as the kilt stayed where it was, and bare flesh from toe to hip slid against that oddly cool silky fine felt underside, his legs not even able to really kick anymore. Another rock, and he clung to it, breathing in tiny shallow little breaths as the thing above him rumbled a low obscene sort of moan, felt more than heard through the flesh of his back. His eyes closed and his shoulders bunching, he clung to the rock for dear life even as he felt himself pulled closer. His legs tugged at, wrenched apart, and he coughed out a smothered howl as his hips lifted to avoid dragging his genitals across the sharp stone, actually gathering back an inch or two and resolutely, adamantly tugging his legs back together. And oddly the thing didn't fight him.
There was long seconds of silence, hugging his rock, pinned, frigid rock below and lukewarm flesh above, shivering and chattering and blinking back tears and snot, shaking and bare teeth and hateful, helpless. Toes curled and legs tight, he shook his head stubbornly, resolutely... a hissing growling groan that turned into a quivering whimper of confusion, trying to turn his head enough to see- but there was only cold black stone, rubbery off gray flesh and that disturbing vivid red underside, his own shawl half blocking his face. But his toes were... warm. There was wet movement, and a shift, and he felt an odd pulling, suction. But they were warm. Not hot but, warm, and he spread his toes to slimy sliding wet. At the first stiffening the hand things tightened, and there was a moment when he could breathe and he sucked a tight rapingly cold breath- only to feel the thing shift and the heavy cold pads of hands close over his shoulders and face, pressing it to earth as the body settled, effectively pinning him down. Little tiny breaths through that tiny space, the odd scent of the beast atop him filling his nostrils as he panted, teeth cracked in a faint slice of mouth between the bared dentition, eyes winced shut as he shifted, hips lifting and fighting the things holding him down- but as the other fingerlets slid up his ankles, leaving his feet free and pinned just above the knees there was no chance to kick, for the warmth followed them, and with a gasp he felt something almost, swallowing down around his legs, his knees forcefully bent as if he were some young girl on their bed, gossiping about boys, his dick pressed to the frozen ground and his hair a mussed tangled thing in his eyes under those heavy pads. Another little tiny feeble wriggle and the sounds between those fingers were closer to sobs, his face unseen a mask of terror and incredulity as he felt the toothless maw sliding up his thighs. But the- the head was down, there the head was at the other end- and there was an oddly shivery little moment as his hips lifted, his body bowing like a bow... and he felt the heavy slick tingling slime slip over his groin, his dick slithering obscenely over the flesh within as his kilt balled and slipped, inverting like a Jaggi frill in a stiff wind over his belly, the liplike orifice suckling down over his belly. Right above it, like clockwork had been the little two pronged fingers, but as it got closer to his midsection it was almost like they couldn't reach, and for a moment both sets of wings left him, leaving him to writhe and claw at the ground in a panic, his weapon laying feet away and Cha Cha- bless his cowardly little heart- nowhere to be seen as he clawed at the chipped and crumbled stone, his fingers numb, nails cracked and bleeding. Sobbing raggedly through a raw and aching throat, he shifted, trying without success to draw his knees up as he felt the thing shift. A back leg, toes splayed and geckolike pawing at him almost disinterestedly, the rough pads making a scratching sound as they caught in his kilt and shawl, shucking him effortlessly and leaving him staring at his naked waist and the seemingly second toothless blind maw of the things tail swallowing him deep into it's lukewarm, slimy body. He was screaming something to Cha Cha as he felt it slip over his nipples, the exhaustion like cold lead settling over him and he felt weak and useless, helpless, voice a thing of raw and shaken panic, exhaustion and horror as his fingers curled, another surge of that wet hole arching his back all the more painfully, the corset of it's mouth easing higher and seemingly happily accepting the gift of his upturned arms.
Whatever he might have said was lost as the lip of it slid over his face, his hands clawing futilly at the puffy lip as they were sucked in.
At least it was, warm? He felt a brush of air and he sucked at the bubble, feeling the poison around him weakening him, leaving his head spinning. Another brief hiccup of air, and then a slow dizzy dreaming vertigo as his inner ear played havoc, turned upside-down for a moment, twisted, squeezed, wrenched... and then, bowed once more like some sick parody of a fetal position he struggled against the sac, face down in slimed fluid, sucking the odd breath as he writhed. Thing probably looks pregnant- it was an odd thought, imagining the distortion however fleetingly as he struggled, exhaustion and lowering oxygen content making his head spin. He writhed and shifted in that fat, distended sac for long seconds before his mouth could consistently get above the level of slimy fluid, a relief so distracting he didn't even register enough to fight as fluid tendrils, slick as tongues and twice as strong wrenched his legs apart, wrapping around his throat and binding his arms together. A froth of lasting bubbles rose, lips parting for air parting instead for the fat worm that slid unending down his throat, flattening his tongue and diving into his innards. Bubbles clung beside his head as he thrashed, legs wrenched apart and a much thicker blunter tip probing between his helpless, quivering buttocks, his anus a flinching, dusky rose, clenched in terror against what almost was a gentle nuzzling even as he struggled beneath the slime. His toes curled, another froth of breath leaving him in shellshocked despair as he felt that nuzzling, nudging worm butt against his anus over and over again, his exhausted, weakened flesh struggling only so feebly now, and his toes curled, coughing as tendrils slid up his nostrils, the odd pseudo snorkels letting him breathe and the surrender to that needed life giving air breaking down the last of his defenses and he moaned into that thick slick rope of flesh in his mouth as he felt his legs eased that last little bit apart and that thick, throbbing tendril slide down, down down, nuzzling and worming and squirming slowly through the loops of his guts. Shaking, breathing calmly now as the shock set in, a warm cottony blanket around him he stopped fighting, head tipping down and body relaxing into a weak, surrendering coil. The tendrils felt it and swarmed in, coiling over his belly, his chest, circling his nipples and coiling like a proud snake around his cock. A low moan as they squeezed the slickened ballsac, his head tilting back and the thick worm in his throat fucking it mercilessly as it gained leverage. He kept expecting the dicksnakeworm, whatever it was to withdraw, and yet it only burrowed all the deeper, sliding, sliding, plunging ever deeper, entering him. He wondered dimly how long it would take it to reach the back of his teeth.
By now his flinching, quivering anus was a gaping, wrecked thing- utterly painless, in fact there was no more pain here in this distant, softly warm world, and it wasn't hurt but mere hints of sensation as something bigger even than that fat cock of a snake within his guts traveled down that bemused, raping length, and he felt the wash of slime and the heavy rhythmic descent of- it's laying eggs. He didn't think he could give up any more, could be more afraid or feel more despair but he did, his head going back and his muffled, squirming whimper a pathetic, broken little thing from within the depths of the monster. Rhythmic, unyielding, throwing his throbbing, sensitive anus wide over and over again and crushing his prostate with every surging dump of egg within his guts, he writhed helplessly, feeling the distending ball of his taut, swollen stomach rubbing against the inner walls of the sac, drum tight and impending-birth pregnant.
It was all too much. Eyes rolling back and face a mask of terror and sumbission, surrender, he opened his lips wide, letting the tendril fuck away as it slid and slithered in his throat, ruthlessly fucking his lips and down deep down into him, his sound some broken tiny manic little howl as his own seed released in a pathetic tiny forgotten little puff of broken pointlessness as the last egg, huge and damn near ready to hatch was crushed out into his anus, filling his rectum and setting every fried, chemical soaked aphrodesiac raped brokenly surrendered nerve firing wildly, and as he felt the rush of hot slime wash in he welcomed it, welcomed oblivion and only prayed Chach wouldn't see what was left of him when the babies came...

...

Cold.
It hit his face as he was born, upside-down, on his back, at an angle and mostly suspeneded within that gelatenous mass, only his curled feet, still achingly erect cock, the swell of his pregnant belly chest and face free to be ravaged once more by the air. He could only squirm, panting breath bringing clouds to that hateful, uncaring air as he writhed, panting and wriggling in his mercifully warm mucus prison. He could already feel the babies shifting in their eggs, knew it was close. He welcomed it, sobbing weakly as his hips arched, his rock hard dick throbbing sullenly in time with his heartbeat and he sucked great lungfulls of cold, punishing air. It wouldn't be long, and indeed it wasn't long. He felt the jelly egg writhe and split, felt something alive nuzzling at his swollen fat gaping helpless anus to escape. Felt it roll and slide out of him, fighting through the glunky mucus and oozed out onto the floor. And as it's brother nuzzled it's way out of his swollen, pulsing tract, drooling slime it's older brother was already swimming across and through the warm sludge and with a sob he welcomed it as it closed, painless, on the side of his throat. It's brother soon followed, easing around the other side, and each sucking mouth was warm, warm... soon he was moaning helplessly as they found nipples and buttocks, shoulders and inner thighs, fighting each other to suckle near his groin. And as he sobbed, welcoming the promise of soft fading in warm embrace he felt the biggest, proudest of them settle on his face, damn near swallowing his head and thrust up as he felt the last one to leave slide lewdly, obscenely down his cock, a sleeve of hungry oiled velvet and he thrust into the giggi's maw, feeling his labored heartbeat fading as they all suckled so hungrily at their sacraficial mommy, his hips bucking and his gaping, distended ruined ass throbbing so achingly of raw-edged, overstimulated heat. He thrust utterly shamelessly into the thing, feeling the great one settling down in a curl around the slime pile as his hips bucked in helpless rhythm, feeling his mind start to die from suffocation and bloodloss. Glops of slime thrown free to plop and slide as his legs spread and thrashed, spread and thrashed, his balls drawing up and drowning the giggi enough it had to pull off drooling it's own pale extract as he fountained, splattering over his murderous, suckling brood and toes coming to relaxed rest against that rubbery hide, the Gigginox turning it's blind eyes to the quivering slimepile as that pole-proud dick begins to finally flag, almost a measuring stick to the waning flutters of that faltering heartbeat, and when the toes finally fall utterly limp, there is only the deep contented murring growl of the Gigginox to sing the fallen hunter off to his final sleep.
- 1
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Warm