tofi's trail

Toijvo has been an agent of Monster Corp. for a long time. He was recruited in his early twenties, and he's seen his fair amount of things. The monster in front of him is nothing new. It's hulking, massive form, horned and with protrusions growing out of it familiar in its unnaturalness.

It's smarter than these beings usually are, though only marginally. It's smarter by the fact that it's tamed hounds by fear, and it's smarter by snapping the barrel of Toijvo's gun to the side, bending it to a useless shape. It's smarter in driving him into a corner, the hounds jumping around it as though to keep snipers from hitting it.

Its breath reeks, and that is not unfamiliar. But the level of the stank is, Toijvo has never been so close to one of them before. He's never let them. He sees an unpleasant gleam in its eyes, unintelligent and knowing all at once. His head feels strange, like it's fillig up with cotton. He feels his knees shake lightly, and he's grateful for the wall behind him, allowing him support.

The monster grunts, the unintelligible words the linguists are still trying to translate with little success. Toijvo feels a shiver rush up his body, warmth spreading in him. He hears his own whimper as though through water. He sees the corners of the monster's mouth twitch up into a grin.

It grabs at him, and pulls the knife he grabs out of his hand without flinching. Its hide is thick, and it's barely scraped. Toijvo squaks out a startled protest as the monster lifts him up in its massive paws, and presses him to its massive, scratchy chest. It's breath is rank, and Toijvo squirms in an attempt to get away from it. His slacks tears, and he feels the air cling to his skin, damp with the monster's exhales. His head feels thick, his thoughts slow.

It's what makes him not understand what presses agains this rear, or what makes him understany why he groans as his muscles are stretched. He whimpers as something bulbous and hard presses into him, scratching his insides. It should feel unpleasant, with the rough ridges and soarse edges, but he feels the heat of pleasure build in him.

The monster grunts, mumbling in foreign words, as slowly, it dawns on Toijvo what is happening. His anus stretches around the cock that's burying inch by inch inside of him, and his mind wavers between allowing it to continue, or to stop it. He feels his arms shake, and it's the weakness in them that tells him that even if he were to try, he wouldn't be able to push it away.

Where is his back-up? He's not alone on the mission, he's just the front-man, the one catching the attention of the mosnter. Where are the rest of them? The yapping of the hounds is loud in his ears, but muddled. The gruntin is at the forefront, and he wonders if he's making similar sounds, as the monster slides deeper into him. He knows he's a fairly quiet fuck, but he's not been fucked by a monster before. Nothing so massive as the cock filling him. He can feel his body rub against the monster's, and his fingers twitch, gripping protrusions.

The monster slides to the shaft into him, and he knows it's bottomed out from the shudder against him, the sound that it makes. He grips tighter, as it starts to rut, barely sliding out before sinking back in again. Toijvo hopes his back-up can't see what is happening, that the monster will be done soon. That he's filled fast- that it doesn't spill a lot into him. He has never considered the mating of monster sbefore, and doesn't know how long it takes for them to finish.

He won't know, either. Not with the way the grip it has on him suddenly relaxes, and it leans forward. It leans heavy against the wall, Toijvo sandwiched between. The monster's grip slackens, and Toijvo can't hear the hounds any more.

He hears voices, though, and knows he's been rescued, a little too late, or perhaps a little too soon. He can't decide.

He wishes he wasn't found like this, when his superiors decides that fucking monsters is a new, insteresting way of distracting them.

Monster Corp. 1