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A Hex-y Claiming
Author’s note: This is absolute, utter insanity, and I apologize for it in advance.
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Hex had two fireworks guns. He tucked them gleefully into his robes and crept through the mansion, catching the eyes of his brothers as he passed.
This was the perfect plan. And none of their masters knew it.
Soundlessly, Henry, Hudson, Hans and Hong fell into step behind him. Each of them had something in their hands. It was going to be epic.
They crept around to the largest entertainment room, the one with the most entrances. It was here that Griff and Quinlan were at the center of attention.
Quinlan was wrapped up in a violently-purple bathrobe with its back hiked up around his waist, his legs spread around Griff as Griff took him from the back, both of them on all fours on the floor.
Their friends were watching.
“This is the best claiming ceremony,” Griff rumbled hoarsely as he held Quinlan down, pushing every last inch into his mate.
Quinlan shuddered and clawed at the floor, panting roughly. There were already several white streaks on the hardwood floor beneath him.
It was all very hot. The room smelled like musk and sweat, even to someone without any superior sense of smell. Griff and Quinlan’s friends shifted around them—Yaeger and Elson, Onyx and Liem, Valor and Samsen, Blade and Joey. Fang and Wren were conspicuously absent, but Doc, Telos, and Mav were there, too.
“I made sure to empty Quinlan out before this,” Griff was saying. “So I’ll fill him with a fresh load, and you will all witness it.”
“Fang should really be here,” Valor muttered. “He gets off on stuff like this.”
“Ah, but Fang found himself something even better to watch.” Yaeger laughed. “He told me. He and Wren made a deal.”
“What deal?” Blade asked.
Yaeger waggled his eyebrows. “A very good one. You’ll have to ask him yourself.”
“Spoilsport,” Mav said, but he didn’t sound too aggrieved.
“Bet you’re jealous,” Telos said.
Mav rolled his eyes.
They hadn’t noticed that Hex and his brothers had infiltrated the room. Slowly, Henry and Hans crept up behind Griff, holding huge, pear-shaped fans that they waved in the air.
Telos snorted in delight. “Did you paint cocks on those fans?”
Hex had. They were as three-dimensional as he could make them, with glistening veins and squirting cum.
Griff glanced over his shoulder and cackled. “Ooooh fireheart. Look. We’re now kings with fan attendants.”
Quinlan seemed as though he barely had the wits to look around. “Wh-what the hell?”
“Oh, but that isn’t all,” Hex announced, finally stepping forward. He waved Hudson and Hong to take their places amongst Griff’s group of friends. They held up a large scroll each; with a nod, they let the scrolls unravel with a snap.
Respectfully Destroy Your Consort’s Butt! said one.
Spray Jizz Like A Maniacal Fountain, said the other. Respectfully!
Griff read them with growing delight.
Quinlan gaped at them. And buried his face in his hands.
“I didn’t think we needed cheerleaders,” Quinlan muttered.
“This is amazing,” Griff said enthusiastically. “They’re cooling our butts and giving us encouragement!”
“Like you needed encouragement for any of this,” Blade said dryly.
Hex handed out colorful maracas to everyone else and demonstrated shaking them. “We can all cheer them on,” he said, shaking his own musical rattles to one side, then the other. “Pound him harder!” Shake, shake. “Pound him deep!” Shake, shake.
“Oh, gods,” Quinlan said into his hands. His friends were cringing, too.
“Pound him harder,” Griff echoed, timing his thrusts with the rattles. Thrust, thrust. “Pound him deep!” Thrust, thrust.
The maraca-shakers found a rhythm. Griff’s smile grew. He leaned in and covered Quinlan with his body, and Quinlan relaxed a little.
“This has to be the most deranged claiming ceremony I’ve ever attended,” Mav said.
“I’ve seen worse,” Telos said loftily.
“The only thing worse is if there were two dinosaurs doing a mating dance together,” Mav replied.
Telos flipped him off.
“Now, we can’t just stand there. We should dance around them,” Hex said, snapping his fingers. “C’mon. Everybody! Start moving!”
They managed to get the witnesses shuffling in an awkward circle around Griff and Quinlan, maracas still going.
“Pound him harder! Shake, shake. “Pound him deep!” Shake, shake.
At least the butlers were dancing. Hex shook his head at the boring masters and consorts.
“I’m about to fire my butler,” Mav said. “Before any of this happens to me.”
“Don’t,” Hex told him. “One day, you will be eternally grateful that your butler has your back.”
Mav scowled.
“Pound him harder,” Griff roared. “Pound him deep! Pound him respectfully!”
And he shifted into a dragon right there, his cock growing larger inside Quinlan.
Quinlan cried out, coming all over the floor.
It was the perfect moment. Hex pulled out both his guns and fired them.
The fireworks shot into the air above Griff and Quinlan, bursting open to the sound of majestic trumpets. The fireworks split into several golden arcs that took the shape of large cocks, each of them hanging in the air, shimmering proudly.
That was Hex’s first commissioned firework.
The guns loaded the next round automatically, and he fired them again.
This time, the fireworks were white. They sprayed over a larger area and got onto everything, like droplets of cum raining from the ceiling.
“Jizz for everybody!” Hex cried. “It’s lucky jizz. You will be blessed for the rest of the day if you keep it on your body.”
“It’s not yours, is it?” Elson wrinkled his nose.
“No, it’s magical jizz. It was man-made. Hmm. That’s not a good description. It was magic-made.” Hex blew the non-existent smoke from the barrel of his guns. “How about that? Did you like this, Dragon Master?”
“Yes,” Griff crowed, cuddling Quinlan in his arms. “It is perfect!”
Everyone else groaned.
“Good,” Hex said, waving at his master’s friends to keep them moving. “Don’t stop shaking the maracas! Keep going! Pound him harder! Shake, shake. Pound him deep!”
More groaning. More shaking, and more pounding.
And thus the ceremony continued.
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