The further Timothy ran, the more bizarre the husks looked. Their faces are filled with emotion - joy, anger, sadness, fear, and even disgust. The more he ran, the more discordant the whole place became. Groups of bodies became few and farther in between, the lines separating bodies disappeared. He ran and ran until the wall came closer than before. The caravan of bodies ended in a podium, where a single naked brown-haired teenager sits on a stone chair wearing nothing but a smile. There’s nothing out of the ordinary with this husk, except his dick which way too big for the likes of him. It’s like someone transplanted that dick in his body.
“Yo!” A voice said behind Timothy. He looked back and saw that it was a kid. Upon closer inspection of his eccentric way of walking, Timothy assumed that the kid was Pickle. “You found the end and the beginning of the caravan of bodies.”
His words may be cryptic but Timothy knows what he means. “He’s the first husk you made huh?”
“You are right kiddo. I’ve had thousands in my collections but I won’t forget his name. Hep. I got him when you humans recently made the chariot. Want to hear the story?”
Sure enough, Timothy has time for such stories. Tales from a human collector are bound to be interesting, to say so the least.
“I’m not going to tell the story in the literal sense, rather, I would show through a ‘memory scope’. It’s a video projected to your mind. You’ll not only see, but you’ll also have the privilege of feeling everything in the memory I’m about to share.” Pickle flicked his finger and an orb appeared which phased through Timothy’s head.
---
The memory led Timothy through a dark lush forest lit only by beads of torches leading to a stone temple in the forest’s heart. On this moonless night, a sacrifice is served - a selection of virgins ready for their god’s feast. And by god, it was Pickle - not that much of a god but an infant spirit, born through the personified desire of humans. That desire would be manliness, manhood, copulation, deals, houses, camaraderie, peaches, and sodomy. It’s like these cultists rolled eight random dice and decided what Pickle’s domain was on the result. For a new god of manliness, Pickle who is still in spiritual form was surprised to see eight naked virgin women ready to be sacrificed in his temple. The cultists expected him to copulate with these women and usher a new era with his powers. They were in for a surprise when Pickle rained fire on them and demanded they bring virgin men instead.
On the next new moon, eight naked virgin men laid before Pickle but his gaze was only fixated on one, Hep. He wasn’t special, he doesn’t have big brute muscles like the sad virgin on his left, or this aristocrat looking twink on his right. He has a dick that Pickle could only grace with pity. A kid twice younger than him would have a twice longer dick than him. Pickle was truly sorry but somehow and someway, his attention is anchored to him. Pickle was in a daze that he could not find the reason why. So, out of the more viable husks, he chose him. Hep’s soul wasn’t special like his body, he was a slave born to do menial tasks. And despite his current place in society, he was happy that for a moment, his sorry existence is going to be a use for somebody. And that somebody is Pickle. Pickle’s soul devoured Hep and received his body in turn. In the process, Pickle found out why he picked the boy - it’s because of his tight plump ass.
To celebrate his birth in this new body, Pickle organized a celebration to show how much he can flaunt his domain over manhood and manliness - and that would be an orgy open only for men. Half of Pickle’s followers are women and they left when they knew of this fact. A fourth left because they are straight. Which left, give or take, a fourth of Pickle’s followers to his orgy. Men fucked men, left and right. They were a pile of bodies fucking each other, and Pickle being fucked on all sides by four men in the middle. Sure, having a nice tight ass is amazing but he wants to be pleasured by his dick too. So, he looked amongst those who attended on who has the biggest dick. He found the dick no sooner than a second and it belonged to a bald black giant with one eye. He recognized Pickle immediately and asked for permission to insert his manhood on Pickle’s ass. His ass may be plump but that thing is beyond his hole’s capabilities. Pickle doesn’t even know what this guy’s father fucked to inherit 10-inched flaccid manhood. Nevertheless, Pickle has a plan that won’t involve his intestines stirred by that humongous rod.
Pickle invited the man in his private quarters and there, they jumped on the sea of pillows in an embrace. Their hands roamed each other’s bodies with their saliva filling the in-betweens. He had a larger mouth with a more aggressive tongue. They tasted one another’s flesh, hungry for every ounce of taste they are making. Pickle went down and his mouth went face to face with the bigger guy's dick. With a careful touch, he grabbed the head and swallowed it in. If spaghetti was invented before that period, Pickle would describe it as swallowing one huge spaghetti. The tip touched his uvula but he isn’t even halfway through. He pushed further. The dick coursed deep in his throat. Pickle couldn’t breathe but he could cry as his throat is going to be split into two because the dick is not only getting longer, it’s also getting thicker. It stretched his thin lips but Pickle persevered. He pushed deeper and deeper until he even swallowed the man’s balls. And in one slice of a second;
Crunch!
The sound was gut-wrenching that the man’s heart nearly leaped out of its place. He expected pain but there was not. There was only nothing. Literally nothing where his dick should be. It’s just a patch of dark bald skin.
In an ancient guttural tongue, he asked his god, “Wh- Where is my dick!?”
Pickle just smiled, without even spilling a single word. He stood from his bed where he showed this man a familiar sight. The place where Pickle’s sorry dick should be is now replaced by a dark 12-inch semi-flaccid dick, still throbbing and dripping in a thick dollop of saliva. The man was about to scream when Pickle jammed his dick the moment he opened his mouth. Pickle was relentless as he slid the whole thing in. He did not give him a moment to breathe. He just jammed it and fucked his head just like your regular ass. The man did not dare bite Pickle’s dick for it was his own and he doesn’t want to wound it. And he’s being fucked by his god. It may be painful but it is such an honor to be filled by his seed (which is frankly, also his own seed.)
Pickle slid in and slid out - faster every second and deeper every other. His huge balls slapped on the man’s chin but instead of sending pain, it sent thunder crackling at his spine in every slap.
“Fuck! AH! AH! YES!” Pickle screamed at the top of his lungs. He fucked him again, and again, and again, each time stepping closer to his climax. The pressure built on his balls and crept upwards to his shaft. His feet are shaking and his hands are losing its hold. In a second, every sensation Pickle is having condensed to a single point. His seed exploded whilst his dick is at full-length rammed in the man’s throat. He may have reached his climax but he did not stop fucking him while his cum continued to splosh around the man’s throat.
His dick stayed in the man’s mouth for another minute, feeling the wet and its warmth. It was so warm that he thought his dick was going to melt and become one with the man’s throat.
Pickle didn’t give the man’s dick after that. He liked this dick and he couldn’t find anything longer till decades later. But as thanks for the man, he gave him Hep’s dick instead. It wasn’t much but a gift is a gift, the man held his sorry dick with pride.
---
And that was the story of Hep, who remained sitting as the first of the husks in this caravan. By the end of the story, Timothy found himself splayed on the floor with his boxers wet with cum. That ‘memory scope’ was something extraordinary. He could feel what Pickle is feeling, his dick fucking that man’s mouth, and he could also feel that man’s pain-mixed-pleasure. He was crying, he was laughing and his dick is still throbbing from the fucked up wet-dream.
“So how was it, kid?”
With certainty, “Fucking amazing”