A low scratch on the ramp came as I began to walk down from the other side. From my youthful appearance I was 14 at the oldest, a young teen or even preteen. But there was no question that I was the one the shady booker had been talking about.
I was a foxtaur in species, and stood nearly 10 feet from head to feet. My humanoid fox half was normally proportioned, though my lower pure vulpine side was very large and chubby, almost like a tank of fur and fat. As I walked down the ramp, fat turds fell from my butt casually, like a horse in a parade I didn't even seem to care. Some of them contained pieces of clothing, which was a very unsettling development.
As I climbed up into the ring with my powerful forelegs, I crossed my arms over my chest. "Well it's been a while since I've had a challenger, the last one barely made it a few minutes before I buried her in shit. Let's see how long you can last!"
I laugh cruelly as the announcers Begin. "In this corner. Weighing... vast tons, and standing at 12'4; coming off of 12 wins in a row with every opponent trapped in his legendary rump; Nicholas, The Tyrant, Tellerel!"
As I get comfortable in my corner, my large bushy brush swinging back and forth with the occasional nauseating fart, the announcer gives the bunny her dues. "And in this corner, standing 5'1... today's butt plug!" Clearly they have loads of confidence in her.
Copyright 2000 - 2024 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.14 seconds at 11:31pm on Nov 25, 2024 via server WEBX1.