Orson pulled his massive knot free of the slick latex hole with a wet POP as his latest ejaculation finished. Panting harshly, he looked over the vixen beneath him. Now freed from his tight embrace, she was already pleasuring herself, mindlessly moaning as her hands played with her thick nipples, squeezing out more flavoured lubricant. Her whole body was dripping with fluids, his and hers, her stomach rounded with more seed then even her magical innards could process so fast.
Her display had him rock-hard again in seconds, her pervasive aura keeping the ache of use from his maleness as his balls churned up more male cream. But she was a bit used, and he felt the need for a fresh conquest.
He looked around. The other sex toy was in the same condition, shuddering beneath Farrell, her skin bright and oozing with saliva and lubricated sweat and milk. Above her his brother panted and strained to bring himself to yet another climax and feed his load to the vixen's eternally hungry snatch.
Wait. His brother. Orson's yellow eyes, burning with lust, settled on the other coyote, fixating on his rear. There was something he hadn't claimed yet.
The hotel manager slid off the bed. He shuddered as his mind finally registered the changes in his physique -- taller, brawnier, bigger all around. And especially where it counted. The changes didn't bother him at all; his sex-addled mind basked in the increased sense of power and dominance radiating from his tight muscles and thick cock. He reached down and squeezed it just above the knot, his fingers not quite able to encircle the shaft.
God, he hadn't even had a knot when he walked in here. Now here he was, as much beast as man; a shaggy predator combined with an Olympic triathlon champion. A virile alpha coyote. And, with a possessive growl rising in his throat, he knew it was time to let Farrell know it.
However, he hesitated after taking a step towards the other bed. He's my brother... A sliver of conscience managed to pierce through the fog in his brain. I love him... But he'd love him a lot more with a fat ass, jiggling tits and a swollen cunt, wouldn't he? Orson licked his lips. It's not like this is going to HURT him...
And there could be only one alpha male.
Conscience banished, Orson strode over to the coupling pair and gave his brother a good hard slap on his ass. "Hey, slut." His voice was lower, stronger, a powerful growl of authority.
Farrell's head jerked up and around from where he'd been sucking one of Linda's nipples.
"Wha' -- 'r you doin'?" he slurred, his own mind lost in a haze of pleasure. Linda moaned in protest, but then she sensed Orson's intentions, the male's desires resonating in her enchanted sex doll heart. With a sly smile, she guided the confused Farrell to sit in her lap on the edge of the bed, her lower lips kissing his cock good-bye as it slid out. She pressed her rubbery globes into his back, the pressure squeezing out more latex milk to coat his fur. He did not resist as she embraced him, brain still trying to process the powerful figure before him.
"Orson...? Wha' the fuck'chu call me?" He glared into his brother's fierce yellow eyes, ears down and fangs bared in confrontation. But... damn when did he get so ripped? Such a stud... such an... alpha... Farrell too had grown through the rutting; he was a fine, lean coyote hunk. But next to his brother... he just didn't compare.
Farrell's gaze slid down, unable to match that commanding feral will. His ears refolded in submissive posture, his muzzle dipping and tail sliding along his leg in an unfamiliar, animalistic surrender. "I... uh...?" As his vision lowered, he tensed as he saw the thick organ standing ready at his brother's crotch. Then Linda's voice tickled his ear.
"Your brother wants you," she whispered seductively. "Let me help get you ready for him..."
Staring cross-eyed at his brother's enormous, veiny cock, spurting out pre-cum with each throb, Farrell found himself nodding. Having submitted to his brother, a new heat, shameful and intense, now spread from the toy cradling him, infecting him with her degrading sexuality. It... smells so good... His own cock clenched rhythmically in sympathy. But...
Just as he tried to analyse what was off about this, Linda brought her encircling hands down to his cock. Already the fur on his back was starting to slick down and merge with his flesh, into the smooth texture of rubber as her breasts lubed him. More latex flowed from her fingers, coating his maleness with sticky black strands. He groaned and bucked against her, going wild as the living latex pressed inside, blocking him from cumming until it entered his balls.
"Wha- wha- ahhh...!" Farrell couldn't form coherent words, or thoughts. He knew something was wrong, the fur along his spine prickling, but he couldn't separate out the fear from the fire of lust and anticipation burning through him. The vixen's squeezing fingers! His brother's dominant scent! The pressure --! He needed --! he couldn't --!
Orson stepped aside, watching with a fierce smirk as Farrell howled and began pumping out his last load of organic seed. By the end of the orgasm, his spunk was heavy with the taint of rubber in smell and texture, cock transmuted into a large red rubber organ, his balls big round rubber cum factories inside a smooth latex sack, very much like those of the vixens laying forgotten on the floor. In the shudders of orgasm, the enchantment rooted in him, a new sexualising aura igniting in the hapless coyote, sealing his fate as another living latex fucktoy.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Meanwhile the other vixen had driven herself to another groaning orgasm simply by milking the lube from her four heavy tits. Now she lifted her dripping fingers to her lips. "Mmmm... Oh..." My milk tastes SO good. It was the sweet, somewhat chemical tang of artificial cherry. Cherry... She gathered up another thick dollop of lube from her breasts and licked her fingers clean. Yes, that's a good name for a fucktoy with this flavour. Cherri. She gave a low giggle, pleased with her epiphany, then lazily sat up, enjoying the slide of her rounded thighs and smooth buttcheeks against the sodden bedding.
I've made such a mess, she thought with warm pride. Then she noticed what was happening on the other bed. Her eyes lit up as her fellow love doll initiated Farrell's transformation. She vaguely remembered him, and he had been nice; but Orson had just been so much bigger and more forceful. Orson's cock deserved a fresh hole to ravish, and really -- Cherri couldn't think of a happier ending for the gentle coyote who had eased her out of her old life as... as... she couldn't recall the name of the boring human she'd been?
Whatever. She knew Farrell would love becoming another fucktoy just as much as she did. She felt it as he came -- the coyote was one of them now. She leaned forward, teasing a hand down to her pussy, still flowing with Orson's leavings; and squeezed another serving of syrupy lubricant from her tit with a breathy moan, preparing to enjoy the show.