Taking From Gnarl

Be careful making out with dragons. They’re greedy, and might take more than just your breath away

Dragonien having Gnarl trapped with him in a session of teasing and making out, as he starts siphoning away some of Gnarl’s size for his own use and amusement… <3

Gnarl’s Furaffinity

|| Old content, Originally posted September 18th, 2013 ||

Taking From Gnarl

 ​​ ​​ ​​​​ Overwhelming. Everything about the dragon was overwhelming to the little Cheshire trapped in the dragon's grasp. The arms wrapped around his waist were like vice grips, freely shifting and tensing at the dragon's whim and idle adjustments of position, but akin to being wrapped in steel girders to the feline. Those meaty hands squeezed and gripped at his shoulder and head, both of which were utterly engulfed by the girth of his powerful fingers. The palm alone cupped the entire back of Gnarl's head, while his fingers combed through his hair, fingers easily brushing the front of his scalp as they stretched across his head. The same could be said of his shoulder, the thin ball of muscle and joint overwhelmed by the mass of sinew and meat of the dragon's other hand, fingers slipped into the collar of Gnarl's shirt to brush fingertips along his unclothed collarbone. The dragon was far too tall in relation to Gnarl for their legs to intertwine, Gnarl's feet barely reaching down past the dragon's mid-thigh, but Dragonien's tail made do instead. A slithering serpent of liquid steel wrapped around Gnarl's legs, clenching them together and only further entrapping him. Even his mouth and lips were overwhelming. Muzzle half again the size of Gnarl's, easily able to engulf his shorter feline muzzle within the broader, fang filled, expanse of his maw.​​ 

 

Worst of all was his tongue. The slithering mass of oral muscle some cross of a mammalian and reptilian tongue. Thicker and more powerful than the thinner tongues of reptiles, but prehensile and forked unlike those of a mammals. Not to mention it was big. Its girth alone was almost too much for Gnarl's mouth, as the two made out atop the dragon's groaning couch. More than that, it was long, almost unusually so even for someone of the Dragon's size. It could push and shove its way into Gnarl's mouth, prehensile strength effortlessly overwhelming the feline's smaller, rougher tongue and filling his mouth to its limit. The forked tip of the tongue tickled more than once along the entrance to the feline's throat, leaving Gnarl tensing and shuddering involuntarily as thoughts of the tongue penetrating down his throat filled his mind... imagining the tongue as something else that belonged to the dragon instead. ​​ 

 

When the kiss finally broke the Cheshire was left panting, both from holding his breath so long during the kiss, and from the excitement of it having taken his breath away and left his heartbeat soaring. The dragon simply grinned smugly at him, lips still less than an inch away. Each panted breath Gnarl took blew a small puff of air across the dragon's muzzle, and over those exposed teeth in his​​ toothy, predatory grin. Sometimes Gnarl hated how easily the dragon could push his buttons, and worse still how smug and cocky he was about it. Not that he could complain about the results, mind you. He relished the various experiences and company of the dragon, he just hated how Dragonien found it so effortless to play him like a fiddle and get him in whatever mood the dragon wanted.​​ 

 

"Douche" Gnarl panted out breathlessly, giving an ineffective shove to his captor’s shoulder. Dragonien grinned in response.

 

"You love it" he retorted in playful accusation.​​ 

 

Gnarl was prepared to give another retort, but was cut off by a squeeze from the dragon. Dragonien knew full well that Gnarl's sassy personality, cowed as it was by his embarrassment, would still prompt him to argue. Rather than let him do so, he simply squeezed his arms around the captive feline, turning the retort into a faint gasp as some of the air was forced from Gnarl's lungs. A deep rumble vibrated up from beneath the feline, leaving his body suddenly going rigid (Save for one part that had long since been so already) and left his ears flattening submissively atop his head. A growl, deep and thunderous booming from the powerful lungs and vocal cords of the dragon beneath him. The sound resonated through the dragon's broad chest and across him like he were on some kind of massage bed, while the tone left his ears ringing ever so slightly. Though the dragon said no words to follow up the sound, its tone, his possessive squeezing of the feline, and what Gnarl knew about Dragonien all culminated in the single unspoken word the dragon's growl signified: Mine.​​ 

 

What Gnarl did not realize is that the dragon's meaning was meant for something other than Gnarl himself. Or rather, more specifically, something that Gnarl had instead of him as a whole. The hand on the back of Gnarl's head didn't give him any time to ponder any deeper meaning to the growl before pulling the Cheshire back into another deep kiss. That resonating sound vibrated through the dragon's throat and tongue and directly into Gnarl's own mouth, leaving him squirming harder than ever before. The dragon's fingers spread wider around the back of Gnarl's head, shifting to grip more of it in their girthy grasp, while his tail's thicker end slowly slid up to encompass more of Gnarl's legs. It wasn't until Gnarl's toe tips brushed along a bit of fabric that the Cheshire finally started to notice something was off.​​ 

 

Gnarl broke the kiss and tried to squirm his body upwards a bit so he could look over his shoulder. The dragon's arms and hand on his head kept him from getting too far. Seeming content simply to keep a hold of the Cheshire, the dragon let the cat pull away from the kiss, and instead busied himself with a soft peppering of kisses along Gnarl's chin and side of his neck. Dragonien could feel Gnarl's toes shifting and flexing, as if trying to search out what he couldn't see, and what cloth he was suddenly feeling. Gnarl could feel something underneath the cloth, a thicker mass of heated flesh, the dragon's tail? It wasn't until the dragon let out a soft panting huff against Gnarl's neck, a brief break in his otherwise cool demeanor, that it dawned on Gnarl what he was feeling.

 

The Dragon's dick.

 

The pieces rapidly began to fall in around him. His toes were brushing against cloth now, whereas before they touched the exposed skin of the dragon's mid-thigh, the cloth was the dragon's boxer briefs. The hand on his head hadn't moved at all, it was simply covering more of his head now than it had been before. The tail hadn't shifted to a thicker part of it, it was the same bit of tail, just proportionally larger to him. The dragon was growing! Or at least, that's what he assumed at first, but when he didn't hear the sound of the couch groaning, or feel fabric tearing under his feet he came to the next conclusion. Gnarl was shrinking.​​ 

 

"Something the matter?" The dragon rumbled.​​ 

 

That smug, toothy grin of his was aimed right at Gnarl, clearly admitting that the dragon was up to something. The meaty hand on Gnarl's head pulled away, and the arms loosened their grip to let him rise. Of course, they didn't move away, and Gnarl had to exert a not unnoticeable amount of effort to prop himself up with his hands on the dragon's shoulders, holding the weight of the dragon's arms still across his back. Only once Gnarl had a higher view of more than just the dragon's face did he start to notice other small details. Both he and the dragon were naked save for their underwear, leaving both of their bodies exposed to the cool morning air. Gnarl's mostly undefined, almost womanly curved body covered by the thin coat of black and green striped fur that he was known for, while the dragon's body was covered in the smooth red flesh that left every curve and contour fully exposed. It was with this exposure, with no fur to hide any subtle changes, that Gnarl noticed the shifting of sinew and bulk.

 

Dragonien was not a hulking beast of a man, though his prodigious height made him seem as such. He was built more athletically, definitely a bit of muscle,​​ but a far cry from some beastly pro bodybuilder. Every curve, swell and bulge of muscle was thin and lean, tightly knit together to be hard as steel and swollen when flexed, but more subdued and flexible when relaxed. But as gnarl sat there, thin hands barely covering half the dragon's broad shoulders, he could see subtle changes happening along the curvature of the dragon's upper body. He could see the cleft between the dragon's pectorals deepening slightly, as their girth slowly spread outwards. The change was almost unperceivable unless he stared intently at it, and watched tiny shadows shifting ever so slightly as the mass casting them reshaped itself. The tightly knit bricks of muscle for his abs were slowly deepening the definition around them and becoming more pronounced. The dragon wasn't getting taller, it seemed, but he was growing. Pound after pound of muscle seemed to be slowly spreading across his frame, and with his height a single pound of muscle was not much, but it was adding up rather quickly. Absorbed as he was in watching the spectacle in front of him, and that smug smirk of the dragon as he let Gnarl admire, the cat found himself drawn back to his own body when he felt a draft across his thigh.​​ 

 

Gnarl's own size had dropped considerably. He was still the same proportion he always was, he was just shrinking overall smaller it seemed. The draft had been his waist and hips becoming too small to hold up his underwear, and his shifting had left them sagging down around his mid-thigh. Gnarl had never been very big to begin with. Hardly above the 5 foot mark, and lucky if, soaking wet, he pushed 160 pounds on the scale, every inch to Gnarl counted. To his dismay it seemed as if he had already lost what looked like a dozen of them. When he refocused his vision he could see his fingers seeming to shrivel inwards with the rest of his body. Rather than focusing on the slab of muscular pectoral his palm rested on, he watched as his fingers pulled inwards, as if being sucked back towards his wrist and able to cover less and less of the dragon's shoulder with each passing second. He could feel the weight of the burly dragon's arms slowly increasing on his back, making him more and more aware of his diminishing strength.

 

"Wh-wha..." Gnarl started to pant out, only to have his words cut off by another kiss.

 

The dragons hand engulfed almost his entire head, as Gnarl dipped below the 3 foot mark, and pulled him back lips to lips with him. His already broad muzzle was even more overwhelming this time, as the tip of his tongue alone overfilled Gnarl's mouth. Gnarl could feel the tongue expanding and swelling between his jaws, feeling his head dwindling in the dragon's grasp, and feel his already pitiful​​ ability to resist the physically superior male weakening as well. If he couldn't escape the dragon's arms before, he'd be lucky if he could pry Dragonien's fingers open now. And yet he continued to shrink. He was familiar enough with Dragonien's shenanigans to know where his size was going after seeing the evidence laid before him. Dragonien was stealing away his mass, but rather than making himself taller and bigger overall, he was simply converting every pound into muscle for himself. What’s worse is how little of a real effect it was having.​​ 

 

As he dwindled under the 3 foot mark, Gnarl was finally released from the kiss. He found himself staring at Dragonien's head, as big as his entire torso, and stretched out across the dragon's chest. He was so short now that, face to face with the dragon, his legs stretched as far as they could barely were able to brush his naval with his toe tips. The shrinking continued on regardless. Every inch of height was converted into raw mass that flooded into the dragon to bulk up his already impressive, if lean, musculature. Greedy didn't seem to quite do the situation justice. Dragonien was already over 8 foot tall and weighed over 700 pounds, stealing the meager 150 or so pounds that Gnarl's entire body contained would hardly make a dent on the towering dragon. Yet as his unspoken claim earlier had insinuated, it didn't matter how insignificant Gnarl or his mass was. It belonged to Dragonien.

 

When the shrinking finally slowed to a stop Gnarl sat, flopped back on his ass, staring up at the towering grin of the dragon whose chest he inhabited. He couldn't be more than a foot tall, if even that. Less than 1/8th of the massive dragon's size, made even more impressive by the added width and girth of his muscular form. Being over 8 foot tall, a hundred or so pounds of added muscle wasn't nearly as much as it would be on a normal size person, but it still showed through clearly. His pecs were fuller, the cleft between them deep enough to hide a pen in. His abs looked almost ready to form into an 8 pack, while his shoulders were visibly wider and had engulfed a bit more of his neck with their mass. Gnarl had only had a moment of courage to glance back and see the monstrous, rather obvious erection threatening to rip open the dark blue boxer briefs the dragon wore, before his nervousness and embarrassment got the better of him and he looked away.​​ 

 

Dragonien chuckled, a deep rumbling tone that seemed to vibrate the very air around the shrunken feline. His lips glistened after a brief, hungry, lick across them left them with a thin sheet of a saliva coating. Slowly one of his newly enlarged arms began to raise upwards, the thicker girth of his bicep bulging from the movement. Fingers almost as thick around as he was wrapped around Gnarl's body, trapping his arms to his sides in the grip of that tight fist. He felt himself lifted effortlessly off the near-naked dragon's torso, briefly dangled above his grinning​​ muzzle. For a split second, Gnarl felt a pang of fear that the dragon might be in one of his more... hungry moods, but thankfully his finger locked prison soon started moving away from his mouth. Instead, Gnarl found himself in store for a different destination. One whose powerful, musky scent told of its presence well before Gnarl was turned around to look at it.​​ 

 

The dragon's index finger extended, hooking a claw tip in the waistband of his briefs and lifting them open. Gnarl could almost hear the elastic of the waistband straining a bit, pulled even more taunt around the already wide girth of the dragon's waistline. The moment the fabric was pulled open a powerful blast of mind-fogging musk wafted out and drilled into Gnarl's nostrils like some kind of toxic gas. The difference was instead of causing some kind of poisoning, Gnarl simply found himself even more painfully erect than he had been before, feeling a bead of wetness dribbling down the under channel of his dick. He was leaking pre. With his arms trapped at his sides, he had no way to try to wipe it away before it dripped down his thighs, but the thought barely registered before he found his attention drawn to his new destination again. The fist slipped its way into the opening his finger provided, leaving that taunt fabric momentarily sliding across Gnarl's face as he was pushed inside. Hot, firm flesh abruptly pushed against his front as the fingers released the front of his body. The palm still ground against his back to keep him trapped between it and this new wall of flesh. With the musk addling his mind so badly, it wasn't surprising that it took a few moments for Gnarl to realize what he was being pushed against, as he reflexively braced arms and legs against it to futilely try to push away from the wall he was pinned too.

 

"Mmrph... Already struggling for me, eh little girl?" The dragon's voice rumbled. The size difference magnified his already naturally deep voice to almost monstrous levels, full of raw bass that shook him even so far away from his perspective.​​ 

 

Of course, Gnarl had no way of responding. Even if he could form a retort, between being trapped in the dragon's underwear, and being ground face first against the dragon’s massive erection, the sound probably would have not carried regardless. Instead, all he could do is try to dig his knees, toes and hands into the mass of heated, throbbing flesh beneath him in some futile attempt to force the palm behind him away and free himself. The movement only made his situation worse, as he felt the constant thrumming pulse of the dragon's heartbeat quickening through the sexual organ below. His actions were just riling the beast up, making the musk's intensity, and the heat inside the cloth prison increase in intensity. Then, just as abruptly as he had been shoved inside, the hand released him.​​ 

 

Out of reflex, Gnarl's arms and legs gripped at the massive phallus beneath him to keep from falling backwards with the sudden release of pressure holding him in in place. Though he dug his claws in like a true feline, they weren't able to break the skin, and only caused the dragon to let out a deeper growl of lusty arousal from the stimulation. With the hand gone, he had a bit more room to move, although the fabric still kept pretty tight around him. With a few seconds to gather his bearings, he could decipher that he was straddling atop the side of the dragon's dick, stretched across one of his thighs and hips and pinned between the top of it and the fabric of his underwear. He couldn't help but marvel at its size. Sure, he knew Drago was far from lacking in the manhood department, but having a dick bigger than your entire body was humbling on a whole new scale. Gnarl felt himself reflexively grinding his thighs together as if in embarrassment at the thought of comparing his own modest at best endowment to this behemoth. It would be generous to say his dick was a tic-tac compared to the monstrosity of a cock that he straddled, and the thought brought a blush to his face, both from humiliated envy... and from arousal.​​ 

 

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