Chapter Text
While immune to outside disturbances in the conventional sense, the confines of Chaldea Security Organization are sometimes consumed by tumult of its own making. Being a clandestine and supernatural organization established for the protection of the past, future, and present, the trouble that finds it rarely (if ever) adheres to the norm. As well, its limited staff and the preoccupation of their ranks with all manner of temporal anomaly typically leaves the resolution of this trouble to a handful of intimately related individuals with a single point of common interest.
In the organization’s ‘present’, these individuals take the shape of Fujimaru Ritsuka and the Heroic Spirits accumulated throughout his work as a master. Particularly prolific amongst his peers, the sheer number of servants at his disposal and their emotional connection to him normally results in his being among the first points of contact for incidents related to Chaldea—no matter how sudden or troublesome.
On a day that should have been devoted to relaxation and satiation with his fully bonded servants, Ritsuka’s propensity for ‘contribution’ encountered an obstacle in the form of the same recruitment process that had seen him inducted into Chaldea in the first place.
Seemingly out of nowhere, a young man by the name of Suizetsu was recruited off of the street and delivered to Chaldea for what was supposed to be a typical orientation. Tall, burly, and yet barely older than Ritsuka upon his induction, his physical durability and the density of his mana mutually suggested extremely high capacity as a member of the organization.
As it turned out, though, his possessing these traits was no mere coincidence. Towards the end of his orientation, ‘something’ motivated the youth to show off the absolute limits of his strength. In doing so, he invoked a modification of the Evil Dragon Phenomenon within himself to transform into a bipedal wyvern imbued with his sense of self and memories.
Selection as the master in charge of his orientation saddled Ritsuka and his servants with handling this problem. In particular, the appearance of a seemingly normal human with the ability to utilize a phenomenon of the past at will (however poorly) necessitated investigation from those knowledgeable in matters of the body.
Before she could be selected, Florence Nightingale volunteered herself for resolving the situation. Overcome by disgust at the make of the wyvern’s body and its infection of Chaldea with evil mana (among other things), she recommended a mixture of medical tests and examinations geared towards determining how the phenomenon had warped Suizetsu’s body and how to go about controlling it.
A layman in manners unrelated to summoning, Ritsuka delegated this task to her without hesitation, and in doing so fashioned another instance of ‘trouble’ for the confines of Chaldea…
One both entirely avoidable, and far more sordid than the norm.
-
EXAMINATION ROOM—CHALDEA
To shrink in the face of a patient’s plight is to abandon one’s claim to the title of ‘healer’. Early on within her time on the battlefield, experience repeatedly impressed this reality onto Nightingale until it became a part of her.
Summoning by Ritsuka and the numerous ordeals that they overcame as a pair changed nothing for her. In both the idyllic simplicity of her life within Chaldea and the life-or-death struggles that she engaged in as a servant, her ‘core’ as one destined to heal the suffering of others refused to yield to any of the challenges set ahead of it.
For a time, Nightingale had been of the opinion that her latest task would prove no different. In no way unfamiliar with the wyverns and dragons of old, a sentient, smaller, and fundamentally human iteration did not strike her as a cause for concern. However intriguing from an investigatory standpoint, her belief in herself and her capacity for healing promised a swift and seamless resolution for whatever illness had caused Suizetsu’s transformation.
Upon sequestering herself into a medical examination room alongside him, reality began to argue otherwise. Endowed with a leather-hewn muscularity and nearly 8 feet of ‘packaging’ for it, Suizetsu’s wyvern form was an eyesore by definition. Moss-green scales balanced by a pale-tanned underbelly that accentuated the definition of his pectorals and abdominals, the bestial simplicity that should have defined his frame was offset by human sensibilities that ‘resonated’ with Nightingale’s womanhood in the worst sense possible.
By themselves, scaly pectorals and abdominals should not have been enough to addle her this way. Given the fanged snout and blood-red eyes above them– to say nothing of the fanged appendages that propped them up–compartmentalizing Suizetsu as a sickly beast should have been second nature for her.
To her dismay, the organs at his crotch complicated this. Precisely where his lower abdominals ended, a trail of oily black pubic hair led down to the root of a monstrous, evergreen tower of grease-lathered cockflesh. Nearly 2 feet in length (a startling 22-inches if her eyes had measured it correctly), its extension through the space ahead of his crotch consumed a fraction of her line of sight each and every time she glanced at him.
A number of these glances combined with overbearing stenches drawn in through her nostrils to impress the throbbing tower’s virility down to a dangerous depth within her psyche. In the former, Nightingale found a log-like bisection of its face with the turgid outline of its urethra, sometimes coiled, sometimes elongated veins half the width of her palm, and a bulbous, dark-green cocktip enveloped within a sock of leathery flesh loaded to obesity with steaming filth. In the latter, she caught cunt-soaking whiffs of a sour, semen-based aroma enhanced by overpowering amounts of sweat, urine, and coagulation.
The predilections of her biology used the information that she acquired as an excuse to seek out even more. In the midst of preparing for the examinations she had planned, Nightingale regularly positioned herself to take in Suizetsu’s genitals from different angles. At one, she found that the still-growing tower was thicker than Ritsuka’s calves were wide. At another, pomegranate-sized testicles drawn within a sweat-loosened sac of pube-smattered flesh were revealed as hanging from its root. Finally, at a distance far closer than she should have entertained, her nose discerned that the rancid, curd-dense smegma packed within his foreskin was likely a product of weeks without proper cleaning or sanitation.
When at last her senses came to terms with the beast she had sequestered herself with, a steady oozing of gluey cuntsyrup was initiated within her folds, and a trying flush was ignited (and subsequently maintained) at her cheeks.
In her intimate familiarity with the inner workings of the body, Nightingale understood these things as signage that her current task might be beyond her. In spite of this, the completion of her preparations led her to glove her hands and proceed over to her ‘patient’ as she would’ve in any other situation.
In doing so, she became a lamb to the slaughter. Content to ‘play along’ with the examination that was suggested for him, Suizetsu spent every second leading up to her approach drinking in the sight of Nightingale’s frame in a manner far more blatant than the glances that she had cast at him.
Through them, the necessity of his participation was ‘reiterated’ by the scale of her breasts, the wobbling protrusion of her buttocks, and the fertile reek that bled from every pore of exposed skin about her frame.
Situated over two feet below him, deriving sexual arousal from her body was as simple as turning his gaze down towards her and looking.
Due to a phenomenon that Ritsuka had briefly described as his ‘maxing out’ his bond level with her, Nightingale’s 5 foot 4 inch frame was loaded with flesh, fat, and useless musculature that rendered her a physical ‘mismatch’ with her Master. Though her pale complexion was left perfectly unblemished and her crimson eyes as piercing and driven as ever, her appearance below the neck left her virtually indistinguishable from the servant that he had originally summoned.
Simply put, she was better. At her chest, rucksack-sized breasts engorged with a biased blend of fat and flesh forced her crimson military jacket open from its middle buttons right up to the collar at her neck. Woefully undersized for the mounds’ that it contained, the opposing ends of the jacket were pushed out across the face of both mounds such that the gumdrop pink of both of her areolas’ fringes could be seen pushing out from under it.
Where their ‘peaking’ ended, the low-set, palm-width nipples affixed to the middle of her mounds tented the fabric atop them into a skin-tight state that invalidated them. Pushed into the jacket by the sloping weight that they maintained and their perky settlement just above Nightingale’s midsection, the whorishness of their presentation (and the platter of glossy cleavage meat to either side of them) allowed Suizetsu to visualize what her tits might look like uncovered with scarily effective ease.
Appealing in and of itself, the obscene excess of her breasts removed all need for a dedicated stare at their flesh. Satisfied within a few seconds of motion, timely turns from Nightingale allowed him to turn his attention to her buttocks and midsection respectively.
Much like her military coat, the black pleated skirt that should have descended across her thighs was hiked upward by the swell of two beachball-scale buttocks snugly pocketed within a pair of stretched black pantyhose. As prone to wobbling as her tits were jiggling, their scale reduced her skirt to a useless hood of fabric draped across just under 40% of her buttocks’ length. ‘Decent’ solely as a result of the garment set under them, the combined width of her cheeks seemed inches short of completely overwhelming her master’s wingspan–assuming he attempted to wrap his arms around them from the front.
As if aware of the ‘mana’ that her body had purposed at her buttocks, Nightingale’s hips and thighs offered width and girth that complimented her rear’s scale. Pressed outward by curvature that threatened to tear it, the waistline of her skirt sat an inch or so underneath two mushily-padded hip flares. Gropabale to the eye, yet carrying all of the sturdy striations required for childbirth, their structure ‘balanced’ her lower body in much the same way that the quad-indented tree trunks of fatty thigh flesh below them did. Ultimately, the difference between the regions was one of nuance; her hips offered fertility, and her thighs focused on projecting a meaty yet distinctly feminine ‘strength’.
Right as Suizetsu’s cock began fattening at the sight of these assets, another turn from Nightingale revealed the foremost failing of her outfit. As her military coat was shortened by her breasts and her skirt depressed by her hips, a stretch of her midsection measuring from the peak of her belly button down to the beginning of her mons’ chub sat exposed to the open air.
At the peak of this stretch, abdominal indentations surrounded by a modest layer of squishy fat created yet another paradox of fertility and strength. Though her midsection itself was wide enough for a perfect transition down to the span of her hips, the extra meat exposed at her belly left little to the imagination as to her capacity for taking cock.
Compounding their exposure was a creeping ascent of pale-pink pubic hair up from her mons. Likely unchecked for weeks on end, a scraggly path of hair could be seen trailing up her lower abdominals to a stopping point at the base of her belly button. Further, their wiry disorganization suggested that a certain amount of additional hair persisted at the covered face of her crotch as well.
When at last Nightingale ceased her preparations and presented herself ahead of him, Suizetsu stood convinced that her purpose as a ‘Servant’ was more closely related to draining the cocks of her companions than it was supporting them in combat.
Consequently, her first words towards him were met with the same flippant confidence that he might’ve brandished towards a whore walking the streets of Tokyo.
“K-Kitanai. Have you no shame? Your body is utterly sanitary.” Nightingale exhaled, punitively. “Wyvern or no, I have my doubts that your transformation is to blame for the extent of it. I’ve encountered many of your kind, and while few were sentient, even fewer were as filthy as you are now.”
“Should you continue to carry such…f-filth about your frame, your constitution is bound to suffer eventually. After I get to the bottom of your transformation, I will be conducting a thorough assessment of the functional baseline for all of your internal organs to ensure that you haven’t damaged them too badly.”
Catching her gaze in a steady descent down towards the shaft pointing at her cleavage, Nightingale hastily wrenched her line of sight back upwards before continuing to speak.
“F-For now, though, let’s focus on your body. I assume you have at least some control of your magic circuits, so to start, do any of them feel abnormally worn or heavy?” she asked, calmly. “Sensations like that might point towards the circuits that were initially activated for whatever spell or curse is responsible for this.”
“Anything you can describe would be helpful. It is vital that we get to the bottom of this, so I will not chastise you should your answer be vulgar.”
To this, Suizetsu produced a rumbling chuckle, and a sneer that made the fangs lining his snout appear even sharper.
When Nightingale’s stern features softened into an embarrassed scowl, he put an end to her suffering with a single plunge of one of his clawed hands down to the root of his shaft.
This done, he pulled the towering organ just far enough upwards to draw further attention to the underside of his cockroot and the bloated testicles that hung from it.
“Y’know, now that you mention it, there are a couple of places on my body that feel a little backed up.” he started, jovially. “I don’t have an excuse for any of your bellyaching about the way my dragon body is set up, but to be honest, I kind of doubt you actually care about any of that,”
“That said, if you wanna check out the circuits inside my nuts, that’d probably be the best place to start. That’s if you don’t end up squirting like a retard from the stink, anyway!.”
By all rights, the contents of Suizetsu’s retort ought to have turned Nightingale’s scowl into a hateful glare. Had these words come from Ritsuka’s mouth gilded by the same depraved candor, a long-winded lecture as to the importance of dignity and cleanliness for a commander was likely to have exploded from her lips at a menacing volume.
As spoken by Suizetsu, their weight curled her lips into a girlish tremble and briefly sharpened her breathing. Equally embarrassed and frustrated, the fit of laughter that accompanied them prompted her to fight against the overbearing stench and humidity wafting in from ahead of her in search of a semblance of dignity.
Funnily enough, her pursuit of it resulted in her throwing away her only chance at maintaining it only seconds later.
“D-Damarinasai! I did say that I wouldn’t be offended if your answer was vulgar, but that is no excuse for you to attempt to degrade me!” she spat. “T-That said, how you speak to me isn’t important right now. You require treatment and further examination, so seat yourself over there so that I can begin!”
Towards the end of her retort, Nightingale raised her gloved left hand up a firm point towards the surgical table on the left side of the room. This done, she took a step forward to further assert the ‘seriousness’ of the matter without taking care to mitigate the jiggling of her breasts.
In these things, Suizetsu found ground with which to take another harmless risk. Shrugging his shoulders at Nightingale’s suggestions, he proceeded over towards the table that she had pointed out one clawed footstep at a time. Ahead of it, he sat atop it as a human might a chair and spread his thighs ever so slightly to set both his cock and balls up to an imposing hang over the table edge underneath his crotch.
Suizetsu knew that these actions were innocuous, but he produced them anyway. Given Nightingale’s bluster and her ‘commitment’ to her craft, their sum was defined in advance as a monotonous medical examination that just so happened to concern his genitals.
As it happened, no such examination occurred. Within seconds of his taking his seat, Nightingale wobbled her way up to a position directly ahead of his cock. Pushing her hands outward on arrival, she took advantage of the stark contrast between their heights to fold her palms around the root of his shaft as a brace.
Intoxicated by the organ’s wriggling heat, she descended down into an extremely slight squat moments later. Dipping her skull underneath Suizetsu’s cocktrunk (this so as to avoid the task of lifting it herself), she next moved her mouth and nostrils as close to the drooping bloat of his testicles as she could before the concentrated miasma of stink that emanated from them stopped her.
For a split second, the sight of the grease-lathered orbs wiped her purpose as a healer from her mind. Wide-eyed and stupefied, she trailed her eyes across inches of leather and pubes before the distracting quivers that rippled through her cunt reminded her of her position–
Before she gorged herself, she required an excuse to do so.
“I-I will be beginning your treatment now, so hold still. I believe that this is necessary for the circuits within your body, so I’d ask that you refrain from entertaining any strange thoughts about my intentions.” she started, shakily.
“Feel free to let me know if you feel any improvements throughout as well.”
No sooner did the last of her words slide across Nightingale’s lips did she snap her lips forward into a firm kiss against the reeking face of Suizetsu’s testicles. Intentionally planting them at the dead center of his sac (i.e., where the inner fringes of his bloated testicles met), contact with the region set her mouth’s slender pillows into contact with a grotesque mess of grease, pubes, and loose, leathery flesh.
The revulsion imposed by the scents and textures that she subjected herself to failed to stifle her. More ‘curious’ in the wake of their onset than debilitated, the first kiss that she delivered was followed up by a slow, sac-stretching peel of her lips away from their point of contact. At the retraction’s end, the moist *PLRP* noise that popped from her lips as sac flesh slipped between them bled into the delivery of a second hasty kiss, and a third straight after that. Indifferent to the curled wires of pubic hair smeared to the edges of her mouth in the process, her efforts eventually transitioned into a flurry of healthy pecks that created spittle-laden kiss marks all about the exterior of Suizetsu’s shaft.
Nightingale’s ‘excuse’ for these kisses lay in the information that they contained. Through them, she acquired brief mental images depicting the flow of mana through the magic circuits at Suizetsu’s crotch. However, as each one only provided a fraction of the overall picture that she required, the application of several were required for her to fully grasp the state of his innards.
A dozen or so—or perhaps even the use of her hands—should have sufficed for the creation of the ‘picture’ that she required. In spite of this, she persisted with their delivery well past her 20th kiss whilst huffing the brain-addling stink of Suizetsu’s wyvern sperm into her brain like a starved degenerate gorging on narcotics.
In the wake of her 21st, a plan of action took shape within her mind. Deeming its conveyance as more important than plastering her lips with cockgrease, she briefly pulled her reddened features backwards and addressed the sperm factories ahead of her as though they constituted her patient’s face.
Unsurprisingly, her doing so destroyed what little ‘formality’ persisted in her impromptu treatment session.
“I…”
“’ai think I know ‘hat’s wrong, n-now…” she started, words addled equally by her breathing and saliva. “Some of the circuits d-down here are soaking up t-too much of your mana. I-It’s caused your testicles to become more productive than they should be.”
“I-I can’t fix something like h’is without surgery, but for now…”
“I c-can at least relieve your suffering a bit ♥.”
Intentions stated, Nightingale parted her lips to act on them. Slow and deliberate in her process, she pushed humid breaths of air out ahead of Suizetsu’s nuts and progressively erected wobbling towers of dense spittle between the roof of her mouth and the face of her tongue.
Once the meaty bulk of her tongue was exposed to the open air, she surged forward to apply it as a starved animal. Pushing the organ outward through her ingress, contact between her tastebuds and the sour virility caked to Suizetsu’s testicles led her to flick her skull upwards to swipe the organ’s lower half through a vertical stroke straight up along the middle of his sac’s face.
Suppressing her revulsion by the sweat and sac grime that she smeared off across her tongue’s face, she used the first stroke that she completed as a template for countless others delivered over the course of the next few seconds. Initially focusing on the dead center of Suizetsu’s nuts, the layering of heavy spittle smears along these regions quickly resulted in her angling her skull to the left and right so as to ensure the opposing sides of the drooping satchel received just as much attention as its front.
Her aim in these strokes was a cock-addled iteration of the ‘standard treatment’ for engorged magic circuits. So far as she could tell, the layered gloss of sweat and aged semen plastered to his balls had resulted in their internal temperature rising to an uncomfortable level. Made to perspire even more actively as a result (this alongside what she imagined to be a gross overproduction of disgusting semen), she reasoned that a ‘vicious cycle’ had taken shape both within and outside Suizetsu’s genitals.
Presently, her only means of easing the discomfort that it had created for her patient was removing as much of the filth caked onto his balls as she could. In doing so, she could kill two birds with a single stone: removing the cause of his sac’s perspiration and allowing the drooping orbs an opportunity to breathe.
According to the squirming of her uterus, the best way for her to approach this was plastering its entirety with spit. So, in between humid breaths and squeaky groans brought about the bitter, squirming flavors that she introduced into her mouth, Nightingale applied stroke after stroke of her tongue in pursuit of a particular result.
Effective in spite of her herself, what she desired came about a minute or so into the delivery of her strokes. Violated from tip to root by sacfilth, the tastebuds of her tongue pushed her mouth into a state of salivation better suited for the leaking slot between her legs.
Suddenly granted an endless supply of lubrication, Nightingale turned the strokings of her tongue into the swivels of a soaked mop of flesh. This time beginning at the peak of his right testicle, she mushed the bottom half of her contact into the pube-mattered region and pushed its flesh in on itself using inward pressure from her skull. Then, after raising both of her hands up to a two-handed press against the root of Suizetsu’s cock, she took to rolling the spittle-soaked meat of her tongue around in wide circles to smear her mouth’s goo across as much of the region as she could.
Unlike the tongue strokes that preceded them, these rotations disturbed the soaked grime on his sac into a fluid state that she could draw into her mouth. Content to work until she felt the substance caked underneath her lips, she subsequently cleared the messes that her organ created by kissing her lips into brief slurps across the sites that she had worked at. By virtue of the unlimited access created by her upturning Suizetsu’s erection, she successfully spread her process across his sac’s entirety within a matter of minutes.
Needless to say, none of the successes that she enjoyed were acquired freely. Between the concentrated cockstink that she huffed into her nose on a second by second basis and the brain-rotting flavors infused into the meat of her tongue, all of Nightingale’s concentration and devotion were required for her to make her way through these transitions.
Further, every second that she committed to them chipped away at her willingness to produce them. Although far more tolerant to disgust and suffering than the average ‘healer of the sick’, the otherworldly excess of muck that she slurped between her lips eventually infected the focused silence within her mind with icy groans of complaint.
This was not the sort of complaint that suggested a lack of capacity, however–
If anything, the tone of her voice and the words that she chose suggested a latent desire to provide Suizetsu with even more medical attention than he was already receiving.
“Khhh, nigaiiiii♥. W-Wyvern cockfilth is so bitter–it’s only been a few minutes, but it’s already completely violated my tongue.” she mewled to herself. “I-It’s my own fault as well–had I noticed his affliction sooner, I may have been able to prepare myself to attend to his balls more effectively. Now I have no choice but to slurp against his stinking sperm factories until I can create relief for them…”
“I-I cannot spend too much time here, either. There are far more deeply rooted circuits that require my attention, and it’s possible t-that…”
“T-That my…”
Consumed within a particularly focused stint of musing, Nightingale found her lips pinched to a particularly loose wad of sac flesh, and her tongue engaged in a starved flutter both inside and out of her mouth.
Upon recognition of these things, the squirming ignited within her cunt brought her ministrations to a halt just long enough to incite complaint from the ‘patient’ that she was treating.
Thus far content to sneer whilst his reproductive organs were attended to, Suizetsu contributed to proceedings by plunging a clawed hand down to the back of Nightingale’s skull and bracing another around the root of his cocktrunk.
A moment later, a slanted form of eye contact was established between the two of them for the first time in minutes.
“Guhhooou! You’ve really got a knack for this, huh Nightingale-chan. That Master of yours must’ve trained you to fatten a guy’s load really well!” he snarled, happily. “Somethin’ wrong, though? I was just starting to feel better down there and you went and stopped–d’you need something from me or somethin’?”
Forced to acknowledge the world outside of Suizetsu’s cock and balls with her full attention again, Nightingale sheepishly spewed his sac flesh from between her lips and did her utmost to reset her facial expression into a semblance of the ‘norm’ for it.
Understandably ignorant to the nature of her task, ‘satisfaction’ with this effort found her with a crooked smile on her face and a mess of pubes glued to her lips.
“...I-It’s ah…i-it’s nothing. It’s my responsibility to treat you correctly, s-so I don’t require any assistance.” she huffed, weakly. “T-The reason I’ve stopped is that your affliction is t-too severe for me to focus on one place for too long. I believe I’ve attended to your testicles properly, s-so I thought it best to inquire about your current needs.”
“A-Are you feeling better now, or worse?”
After several minutes spent enjoying the sometimes sharp, sometimes gooey ‘treatments’ applied by her lips and tongue, Suizetsu found himself without a single complaint as to the quality of Nightingale’s work. At the same time, however, he was far from satisfied with it. As the ‘sum’ of her slurping was an engagement of his cockroot with fresh semen, his sole desire in the present was the creation of an opportunity to blow it all out into one of his nurse’s holes.
Noting the delirious stupidity spread out on her face, he compromised with himself. So as to create unrestricted access for himself, he pushed his scaled haunch back across the table behind him and drew his left foot into a clawed perch atop the edge he had seated himself atop. Then, whilst pushing his lower back into contact with the stretch of table behind him, he pushed his left hand down into a cupping of his ballsac that ultimately drew the sloping organs out of their curtaining of his taint.
The product of these transitions set the second ‘problem area’ of his frame directly ahead of Nightingale’s face:
A striated rosebud of green anus flesh drenched in several long rivulets of her own spittle.
“Ya know, now that you mention it, My sac’s actually feeling great. Right now, most of my discomfort is coming from the inside of my asshole.” Suizetsu replied, sneering. “That’s probably a little out of your area of expertise though, huh? I mean, I doubt the guy that summoned you trained you to slurp spit off’a his asshole for fun, right?”
“And, sure, you’re trying tah treat me, but you’ve gotta have some kind of limit–”
“Unless you’re the type of filth-addicted onahole that gets off on being used like a dickrag, of course!”
As intended, Suizetsu’s words set Nightingale between a rock and a hard place. In the wake of the exposure of the wyvern’s slop-greased asshole, the needy quivering of her innards became a rhythmic throb complete with an audible sputters of cuntsyrup between her lower lips. Simultaneously, his words forced her to look and assess the realities of her position. Although honor-bound to provide treatment to anyone in need of her, attending to Suizetsu would require her to provide him with something she had never so much as teased to Ritsuka. Having already plastered the middle of her cleavage with frothy spit in pursuit of Suizetsu’s treatment, something about this rubbed her opinion of herself the wrong way.
Ill-equipped for a proper judgement call, the impasse she had arrived at was solved by her cunt:
In the wake of a particularly gutting contraction, Nightingale snapped her skull forward again just as she had minutes prior. This time parting the greased pillows into a suckling kiss that matched the width of Suizetsu’s sphincter, she reduced her mouth to a greedy suction cup for its flesh in the blink of an eye.
In the midst of this, she sold her actions to herself as a necessity…
If she did not properly attend to Suizetsu’s magic circuits, no one would.
“I-I have to do this–i-it’s shameful and disgusting, but I must–”
“If properly treating a patient requires me to be a cockdrunk dickrag, I must be the best one that I can be ♥ .”
Incidental to the reverberation of these words within her skull was a display of encouragement from the sneering wyvern above her. Waiting until the exact moment that she kissed her lips around his sphincter, Suizetsu pushed his clawed palm inwards and forcibly locked Nightingale's lips and face into contact with his ass.
This done, he motivated her with his voice.
Gho-ho!! That’s th’ spot! Now dig in there and slurp me up properly, he grunted. “Thanks for being such a helpful dicknurse, Nightingale-chan!”
Wrought from the impetus that Suizetsu created was an instance of asshole slurping defined by dedication. With her nostrils plugged even closer to the wriggling reservoir of semen contained within him, Nightingale was reduced to a state of stupidity that demanded she tighten her lips into a firm suckle around the anus flesh they had encapsulated. First pushing her kiss as deep as she could manage, she subsequently began suckling back against the button of flesh until the pressure she generated pulled it into contact with her tongue.
Unavoidably, sucking to this extent hollowed her cheeks into her mouth and rendered her features even more perverse than they had been during her lapping at Suizetsu’s testicles. Long since detached from thoughts about what she looked like while working, Nightingale repeatedly produced the suction that was required of her with enough consistency to mush the flesh of Suizetsu’s rosebud into domineering impressions against the face of her tongue.
Each one that she earned for herself served as a cue for her to push her treatment further. Recalling the internal nature of Suizetsu’s complaints, she met each compression of sphincter flesh against her tongue with a hearty swirl of the organ that saw fresh glazes of saliva drawn across it. In the wake of their application, the natural drop off in her lips’ suction prompted her to hungrily slurp excess amounts of spit back into her mouth lest she allow herself to become ‘lazy’.
For all of its effectiveness, the pattern of drawn-out *SCHLLLRR~* and manic *PPUAAH!* noises produced between her sucking and tonguing lasted all of a half-minute before it was replaced by something more effective.
At this juncture, Nightingale reminded herself that Suizetsu’s affliction was internal and not external. In recognition of this, she abruptly dropped all suction away from the face of his anus in favor of a deep, spittle buffered kiss against his hole similar to her first.
This time, she did not merely allow his anus to sit against the face of her tongue. In yet another display of the liquefied state of her mind, a last-second flick of Nightingale’s tongue set its tip through to a slimy ingress into the humid confines of Suizetsu’s insides. Of her own volition, she pushed this ingress further until her slop-greased organ was depressed into her patient’s intestines down to the root.
From this point onward, she became insatiable. In place of the revulsion that might’ve consumed a weaker servant, Nightingale rolled the bloat of her tongue around the bestial gut flesh that surrounded it in search of the organ to blame for Suizetsu’s discomfort.
A nurse by trade, she stumbled upon what she was looking for as a matter of course. After aggressively prodding at every pocket of gutmeat surrounding her tongue, a hint of rigidity pushed across its peak triggered a sandwiching of all of its weight right up against it.
The sensation of warm flesh pushing in against Suizetsu’s prostate ignited something unique within him. In the first place, bringing her mouth into contact with it was the only thing that he actually desired from the event. All the same, the invasive wriggle of her tongue within his rear as coupled with the stroking grind of its flesh near his prostate reaped a degree of stimuli that even his bestial frame refused to ignore.
In response to it, he surged upright for the first time in minutes.
“KU-HYUUU! Now THAT hit the fucking spot!” snarled Suizetsu, throatily. “I think I’m just about ready to spew out whatever’s giving my insides all this grief!”
“You’ve done plenty so far, so I’ll be taking it from here Nightingale-chan!”
Little time was allotted for Nightingale to react to Suizetsu’s declaration. Although just as well given her preoccupation with grinding her tongue within his asshole, the speed at which he transitioned from patient to aggressor made for quite the sight within the examination room.
Without a moment’s notice, Suizetsu surged back up to his feet and lowered his hands down to contact with Nightingale’s body in tandem. Upright, the renewed disparity between their heights required a brief bend of his knees, which in turn resulted in the impression of his clawed hands at the wide grooves of her hips. Unaffected by the succulent rigidity that his palms found at the region, he afterwards applied these grasps to hoist her onto her feet such that the wobbling bloat of her breasts and the muscular pudge at her midsection were pressed in against his cock and balls respectively.
Next, he spun her. Whirling her into back first contact with his chest, he exchanged his grasp on her hips for an abrasive impression of his palms at her lower back. With them, he dipped her upper body down to a depth just short of a 90-degree bend at her hips, and thereafter drew them back down to her hips one final time.
Here, his status as a dragon became particularly useful. One poke at a time, he pushed his claws underneath the fabric of her skirt and tights and wrenched his wrist to see their coverage torn away from the alabaster flesh that they covered. Applying only as much ruination as was required to see the miniature boulders of buttocks flesh affixed to her rear exposed to the open air, he hastily abandoned these activities for yet another shift in gears.
This time, it concerned the alignment of his crotch. Stepping backwards just far enough for the two-foot bloat of his filth-caked erection to fall to an imposing point at the meat of Nightingale’s rear, he pushed the process along by aligning his smegma-fattened cocktip into a vertical point straight at the squirt-soaked mound of cuntflesh between her legs.
His completion of these efforts made further participation a pointless endeavor for Nightingale. Still, her recognition of what her alignment would amount to and the steaming need that had consumed her uterus inspired her to offer herself up anyway.
Pushing both of her arms back behind her, she found the inner fringes of her asscheeks with her fingers and depressed them until she could peel their flesh apart to better expose her holes.
Then, without any of her earlier sheepishness or rigidity, she turned her head backwards to direct a smile at the towering monstrosity behind her—
A whorish display of submission if there ever was one.
“…If this is the t-treatment you require, go right ahead. My purpose is to aid the sick, so you need not concern yourself with my wellbeing…”
“Relieve yourself with my slobbering insides as much as you’d like ♥.”
Despite their addling by a steady descent of mucus from her nostrils, the words that Nightingale spoke from her new position were her clearest in several minutes.
Appropriately, she earned a succinct response for them in turn. Before her invitation could even begin to sit within the open air, a weight-backed thrust from Suizetsu’s hips plunged the gloved bloat of his foreskin into an invasive grind through the mouth of her cunt. In time with this, his hands returned to controlling impressions to either side of her hips and dragged her lower body into the skewering provided by his cock.
Together, these things produced a seamless, gut-fattening hilt of his erection through from the mouth of her cunt right through to the permissive puffiness of her cervix. In an instant dominated by a grotesque *SCLRSH!* noise and the slippage of green, grime-caked cockflesh through a syrup-gilded slot, the muscular pudge of her midsection was distended by an arm’s length of cockflesh whilst the ample fat of her buttocks was mounted in against itself by the rigidity of his crotch.
Snarling heartily, Suizetsu’s intent regarding Nightingale’s offer became apparent over the next few seconds. Wielding the strength of a wyvern with the abandon of an orgasm-starved human male, he curled his hips outwards ever so slightly to slide his exposed glans flesh out of its tenting impression against her cervix.
For every inch he drew outwards, he dipped his torso downwards and compressed the feral slant of his knees to facilitate it. At a 5-inch mark perfect for imposing the weight of his torso, he ended his retraction with a curled slam of his hips and another vein-accentuating wrench of his arms.
All on its own, this thrust served as a foundation for a seamless chain of short-length plunges back and forth through Nightingale’s cunt. Taking the heat and suction put out by her cervix as a challenge, bestial instincts manipulated his frame into bouncing back and forth between impression and retraction as quickly as he could.
So far as Suizetsu was concerned, the initiation of this thrusting chain served only to fill the air with vibrant *PLAPP~* noises whilst the meat of his cock was scrubbed through Nightingale’s womanhood.
Such was the cost of the bestial skin that he wore. Though far more ‘good’ was wrought from the beginnings of his pummel, his mind refused to concern itself with anything other than the stimulation injected into his cock.
First and foremost, his second hilt snapped Nightingale’s skull up from a languid droop below her shoulders. Eyes crossed and lips edged with individual strands of saliva, the stimuli provided by her initial gutting penetration layered itself atop the reproduction of its tenants to scramble her brain into a state that could only process pleasure.
As a result, her attentions fell to the cock-inflated bloat of her stomach and the skewered confines of her cunt. Within the latter, the length and girth of Suizetsu’s cock had resulted in the pink-red congestion of her inner walls being spread away from one another. Thereafter, the underside of her canal was molested by the blood vessels coiled across its face through a greasy layer of cockflesh, and its peak with the rigorous throbbing of his urethra’s underside.
In time with her innards molestation was a sensation of ‘marring’ fashioned by her disposition. During its initial slide through her folds, Suizetsu’s foreskin was forcibly peeled over the meat of his cock as a sock bloated with cottage cheese. By the time it arrived at her cervix, a modest layer of the grime built up across his glans was naturally smeared across the sodden canal inches leading up to this point.
The reproduction and acceleration of these thrusts turned these layers into a murky build-up of mire within seconds. Owed primarily to her innards’ refusal to cease their sodden contraction against his member’s bulk, a pattern of melting, scrubbing, and peeling was soon applied as an additive for the skewering of her folds.
In the same span of seconds that her mind was subjected to this, the bloating and deflation of her midsection with cockflesh made the stirring of her innards seem almost irrelevant.
By default, having 2 feet of cockflesh slotted into her folds reduced the confines of Nightingale’s cunt to a flesh-encased onahole. Per hilt, her cervix was depressed further up into her guts, and the muscular chub at her midsection was stretched upwards and outwards as if no more rigid than untrained flesh.
Nothing within her womanhood was capable of mitigating this. No matter how her folds clenched inwards or how the mana that she absorbed from Ritsuka supported her, all of it was undone over the course of a single gut-wrenching slam of Suizetsu’s hips.
Soon enough, the bruising inflation of her midsection gave way to a smattering of strained red flesh at the middle of her abdominals. As well, the battering-ram impacts driven against her cervix progressively reduced its function from that of a defensive button to a slurping suction cup for her suitor’s urethra and cocktip.
Inexplicably, the discomfort that should have accompanied these things was perceived by her as raw pleasure. Try as she might to acknowledge it with her voice, the congestion of her throat with stupefied groans and breathy pants forced her management of it inwards.
With her ears filled with vigorous *SLRSH* noises produced by the blending of her innards and the sound of her assfat clapping against a scaled crotch, Nightingale attempted to think her way through what was happening to her as a form of medical exercise.
Not surprisingly, the sum of her doing so was the intensification of an already-cutting amount of stimulation.
“I-I’m being masturbated with. M-My insides are being beaten and squeezed like a disposable onahole.”
*PLAPP-SPLORTCH-PLAPP-GLORTCH*
“Is this truly proper treatment? Cockfilth is being smeared all over my inner walls. E-Everything—the hole that I used to pleasure Ritsuka is being reorganized and violated by Suizetsu’s cock…”
*PLAPP-SPLORTCH-PLAPP-GLORTCH*
“N-None of this should be enjoyable for me. My focus should be on my patient’s relief, but I can’t help it.”
*PLAPP-SPLORTCH-PLAPP-GLORTCH*
“Being brutalized by such a monstrous cock feels so good ♥ ~!”
What was cause for a squealing epiphany for Nightingale was for Suizetsu all the more reason to keep to the pattern that he had established thus. While spared from the mind-rending epiphanies enjoyed by his muse, all of the pleasures that had contributed to its occurrence were imposed onto him in one manner or another.
For him, the ‘difference’ was a matter of processing. Fundamentally, his pummel of Nightingale’s guts consisted of two parts: the hilting of his shaft through the slimy embrace of her body cavity, and the wrenching extractions that followed. Whereas the former granted him the satisfaction of invading and subjugating her feminine innards with his frame–this coming from the defensive contractions her guts produced to try to slow his vein-studded member’s descent–the latter provided him with a challenge in the form of the clenching suction that her inner walls applied against the inches he attempted to wrench from them. Both lubricated by a mixture of balmy cuntsyrup and the melted sexual filths that were scrubbed off of his cock, volleying back and forth between them made for a very addictive experience from his perspective.
Neither of these pleasures represented the sum of his experience, however. Over time, the steady removal of smegma from around the swell of his glans rendered the tip of his shaft more vulnerable to stimulation. Beset by hotter heats and what he perceived to be sharper contractions, the same thrusts that had sent pleasant jolts of stimulation up his spine became gutting affairs that wrung hearty expulsions of precum through his cocktip.
In the midst of this transition, his cocktrunk’s near-constant envelopment within some amount of sodden cuntflesh progressively replaced its filth coating with a slippery syrup glaze perfect for sharpening the pace of his thrusts. In return for this, though, the congealed bloat of her inner walls were felt more strongly by the exterior of his shaft, and the biting grind of their veins into heated flesh became more significant for him.
Having intended to indulge in Nightingale’s cunt to his heart’s content, neither of these happenings were perceived as grounds for ‘adjustment’ by him. Instead enticed towards additional consistency and brutality, the worrisome compaction of semen at his cockroot was pushed to the back of his mind to facilitate his pursuit of a destructive sexual high.
As a result of this, the repeated tenting of Nightingale’s body cavity with cockflesh became an increasingly potent experience for him.
Simply, the deeper his member slipped, the more intense the stimuli associated with it became for him. Slowly but surely, the jackhammer blows he delivered against her cervix seemed to welcome more of his glans’ bloat into the sauna-like prison set behind it. Simultaneously, his crotch’s clapping impressions into Nightingale’s assfat were tightened such that their wobblnig fat was made to feel like warm dough to him.
Worst–or perhaps best of all, the warmth of her body cavity amplified the sloppy humidity offered by her inner walls into something else entirely. Made to feel more and more like a full-body onahole for every stroke he delivered, Suizetsu’s mindless pursuit of stimulation soon became an endless chain of indulgence and generation.
All of these things culminated in a significant response from the wyvern only seconds after Nightingale embraced what was occurring to her.
Bellowing like a monstrosity, Suizetsu pushed his chest down to an angled slant above Nightingale’s back. Stopping just short of a depth that would see the weight of his torso slumped over her, he raised the settlement of his palms up from her hips into abusive compressions against the opposing sides of her face.
Settlement at the region reduced the opposing sides of her mouth to a set of reins. Utilizing the index and middle claws of both of his hands, Suizetsu fished the pre-gaped confines of her mouth open and pulled back on her skull to keep her frame drawn inward against his thrusts.
His completion of this ‘task’ left little to the imagination as to his intent. In spite of this, a motivation fashioned from the boiling nut at the root of his length and the monstrous breeding instinct he had installed himself with fished his desires into the open air in the form of a feral bellow.
In stark contrast to his last, its contents barely qualified as utterance.
“UUUUOOHHHH D-DERU!! I’M GONNA BEAT YOUR CUNT ‘TILL I BURST!!”
What followed was not so much a display of intent as it was an accelerated descent towards the inevitable. Leveraging his new position to his advantage, Suizetsu adopted a shorter, pummel-focused thrusting chain that left the majority of his cock to a piston-like bounce through the spread folds surrounding them.
Alongside more frequent splinters of stimulation through his shaft, these thrusts created a visceral duet of sexual noise as well. As every discharge of sexual lubricant from Nightingale’s folds became smothered by the presence of his crotch, the *PLAPP–PLORPP–PLAPP* produced at her rear acquired a distinctly sodden quality accented by the flop of his testicles against her destroyed outer lips. Additionally, the throat-like *GLRSH(s)* produced each time cockflesh was driven through her cunt acquired satisfying increases in volume to match the grotesque quality of their consequences.
Strictly speaking, Suizetsu did not desire anymore from his ministrations than what he received. Fanged maw grit in satisfaction and brain consumed by exertion’s fervor, all that remained from his perspective was the perpetuation of his metronome to its endpoint.
Incidentally, another reward found him on his way up to it. Out of nowhere, what should have been an all-consuming ascension of semen up to the root of his cock was enhanced by an outflow of vibrations against his fingers–
A saliva-kissed byproduct of useless noise spewed out into the open air.
“IIGUU! IGUU IGUU IGUU ♥!! ‘ILL ME ITH A’HCKHYUUUSE ♥!” Nightingale squealed, words addled by the digits within her mouth. “I’LL MY WOMB–’HOG ME FULL OF ‘ASTY ‘ACHKHYUSE!! (Fill me womb–clog me full of nasty cockjuice!!)”
“‘YUSE MEEEEEE~!”
To reiterate, further motivation for release was not something that Suizetsu needed. In the amount of time that Nightingale required to force these words across her tongue, the short-ranged nature of his thrusts and the otherworldly strength set behind them successfully wedged the tip of his glans up through her cervix. Seconds beyond this point, the compressed arcs of syrup that jetted from her folds as a result were applied as grease for the final leg of his thrusting salvo.
One after another, destructive stabs of Suizetsu’s cocktrunk wore away at the seal gilding the root of his cock at an intolerable pace.
Long since subjugated, Nightingale’s hole could do nothing to slow them.
Nothing–
*PLORTH-PLATTCH-GLORPP*
Save–
*PLORTH-PLATTCH-GLORPP*
Capitulation.
*SPLOOORSSSH!!*
In time with Suizetsu’s final fat-sandwiching compression of Nightingale’s asscheeks, an eruption of the squirming slop that had engorged the root of his length fashioned a localized explosion of nut straight through the dilation created at the center of Nightingale’s cervix. Contents all but sucked directly through his length, the palm-wide flourish’s contents were blasted out into a muffled splatter against the untouched peak of her uterus with enough force to produce a muffled splattering noise at her midsection.
With or without this force, the quality of Suizetsu’s stinking wyvern nut would’ve ensured that some form of noise rumbled out of her midsection regardless. Yellowed to a jaundiced state accented by the slightest hint of white and fattened with denatured nutrients such that it mirrored a bulbous, heat-loosened clay, Suizetsu’s seed epitomized the bestial nature of his frame and the overproductive make of his testicles. Contained within the first explosive flourish that was choked up through his urethra was a volume of nut that spread a semi-solid sludge reservoir across the top half of Nightingale’s uterus. For each forearm length burst of seed that followed, the confines of her uterus were consumed, and thereafter engorged into an increasingly plush and dumpy state.
Owed to this was a combination of pace and placement. Because each strand maintained enough sludge to consume more than half the natural volume of her uterus, the individual steaks and smears that a smaller orgasm might’ve provided were replaced by the engorgement of a half-completed reservoir. Per *GLORP* that sounded out from her middle, the substance’s compilation against itself taxed the confines of her babymaker into the same pliant submission that had consumed her cervix.
In this, the log-like bloating of her midsection was irrelevant. Though Suitzetsu remained hilted through her folds all throughout this inundation (a circumstance that maintained the bulge at her abdominals), the sheer amount of rancid cockjuice that his testicles had prepared for the occasion saw to the creation of a uniform paunch of semen that eventually subverted it.
Of the assumption that he was inseminating a heated sow picked especially for him, Suizetsu spent the entirety of this process in a state of writhing bliss. Muscles locked in place by instinct, he unconsciously denied Nightingale’s frame anything that even slightly resembled respite.
With this came consequence. Soon enough, the sac-like fattening of her middle gave way to discharges of excess nut from the edges of her cuntlips in the form of heavy, batter-like outflows against his balls. Worsened for every second Suizetsu failed to pull out of this position, what began as a stuttered series of discharges became a near-constant outflow within a matter of seconds.
Suddenly made to deal with the sensation of semen burbling out of her as quickly as Suizetsu’s shaft spewed it into her, Nightingale’s insemination acquired yet another crippling coat of paint for her to dwell on. As though the writhe of countless portly sperm cells against themselves was not enough, the heated chunks that contained them were introduced into the spread confines of her vaginal canal as another lubricant.
Whereas the majority of the substance was dumped out into growing puddles of semen beneath her cunt, certain amounts of the gunk were left to sit (and tease) the lining of her inner walls without ever being jarred out of place. Barely a minute into this process, its severity added wadded dregs of semen to the puffy, pube-smeared state of her cunt–a welcomed change of pace given the amount of squirt flushed through it in the preceding few minutes.
Expectedly, all of this vehemence and ubiquity amounted to utter debilitation for Nightingale. Denied the use of her mouth by the claw fishhooks that remained within it, a number of throaty groans and hiccups sputtered from the root of her maw in place of the verbalizations that she desired.
This, too, proved insufficient in time. As the expulsion of seed through Suizetsu’s cock began to ebb and the rounding of her midsection became to tighten, the warm slurry dominating her innards extorted acknowledgment from the remaining vestiges of her consciousness.
In it, the final morsels of her self dribbled of her lips with the same unintelligible insignificance as the squeals that had preceded it…
Presuming one could be bothered to pick their contents out of her babbling, of course.
“So much…”
“So much sperm is squrimin’ in my stomach ♥. It’s so thick and heavy that my ova won’t be able to resist being violated by them ♥.” she giggled. “I can feel it happening already. Having my womb beaten up like this has made me ovulate.”
“G-Gomen, Shireikan. Even though they’re not your babies, I have to make sure that I take care of however many I end up giving birth to…”
Utterly detached from the babbling of his cocksleeve, her words were ignored by Suizetsu from start to finish. It was not until the meat of his cock deflated enough for a splattering slippage of his cock out of her cunt that he regarded her words as they deserved to be:
In order, he dropped his hands away from her mouth, then backed away to allow her frame to fall stomach first against the ground as a discarded condom of flesh…
This without so much as glancing at what he had reduced her to.