Portal Peril: The Picnic
It was a beautiful spring morning when Charn and Max set up their picnic blanket underneath a large oak tree. The tree was perfect for shade, and its roots provided a bit of stability on the slight incline down to the tranquil water that flowed smoothly by below. Charn had found this place while he was hunting for places to visit for his Fishing episode, and was glad to finally come back to it.

"So where, exactly, are we?" The folf asked, as he used a rock to tamp down the corners of the red and white checkered blanket. "This feels like central america, somewhere." He sniffed the air, squinting suspiciously. "You aren't going to leave me here, are you? I don't even have my wallet with me."

"Of course you don't, silly, where would you keep it?" The tiger made a good point. Neither of them were wearing any clothes at all; the only thing they had brought with them was a large wicker picnic basket. Well, Max had brought it, Charn had been too busy maneuvering through the underbrush, sweeping large arcs through the vines and thorns with the only other thing they had brought, a machete. "We aren't going to need any money, or ID, so don't even worry about that. Nobody is gonna disrupt us."

"Sure, sure," Max said, glancing around. "I'm sure there's not a single hidden camera here, trained on my face, waiting to catch my expression as you eat my  balls or something."

"What balls?" Charn teased, as he opened up the basket. The machete was embedded in the soft soil nearby, and the tiger sat cross legged on the blanket, the basket pulled up next to him. "Your balls are safe and sound, at home, where they're supposed to be." He pulled out two chicken salad sandwiches, and offered one to the folf, who took it hesitantly.

"This is just weird. I've never seen you eat something that wasn't directly sourced from between the legs of a male," Max said, as he stood down on the far corner of the blanket. "And aren't you supposed to be streaming, today? Shouldn't we have at least brought the cameras?"

"For what?" Charn shook his head. "Max, not everything is a part of the show. I do things outside of the limelight, too. I thought today I would have a picnic, and I thought you might like to tag along. I promise this is just chicken salad, and not 'max ball salad'. Now sit down, and eat."

Max grumphled, but did as he was asked, taking the sandwich and peeling back the saran wrap. "Well... thanks, I guess. But don't think you're off the hook for everything else." He took a bite with one hand, and leaned forward, peering into the basket. "And what's the deal with that guy, anyways?"

"That guy?" Charn asked, staring off across the slender river, to some deer that were staring at the interlopers from the other side. Their funny noses flared in an unusual way that made the tiger's hackles tingle. "What do you mean?"

"Him," Max said around a mouthful of sandwich. He reached into the basket with his free hand and pulled out a chrome ring. Hanging underneath it was a plump, tapering pink cock, still damp from the wet towel that had been wrapped around it. Behind the cock hung two large, swollen testicles. They looked uncomfortably plump, as if the testicles themselves were too small to contain the mass of bulging flesh that had grown inside them. "You don't usually keep dudes 'sackless', so why this guy?" He flicked one of the nuts with his other hand, sending it spinning.

"Oh, well, he's a..." Charn struggled to remember. He had extracted a semen sample using a needle plunged into the heart of one of the testicles, to do some genetics tests on. The exact species name had been lost to him, though. "I forget. He's a fancy brand of kobold, though. And his testicles are internal."

"Internal? Then why are they, ah, external?" Max asked, tap-tapping his fingers underneath the left nut, which was slightly larger and lower hanging of the two. His fingers thumped healthily into the solid flesh, jostling it back and forth in the open air. 

"Well, when I first acquired this package, it was just a cock sticking out of a vent. So I stuffed my fingers in and pulled his big ass balls out." Charn gestured to them. "I think that, without the pressure of the rest of his groin pushing in on them, they've just naturally swelled out to their max size. Now, um, well, you can try, but they just wont' fit back in. I imagine if I drained them out and used a compressive sleeve, I could probably get them down to a size that would be able to fit back up into the inguinal canal, but..." He shrugged, "I do not see much value in that."

"Of course," Max said, as he slapped one. It swung loosely around on its cords, twisting around the hardened pink dick before slapping into the other testicle. He slapped the other one, then, and it spun around the dick going the other direction. The twisting cords twisted and ground against the kobold's shaft, and the tiger shook his head at his antics. "What? I can't play?"

"We can play, but not like that. Here, let me see that." Charn used a hooked claw, snagging up into the very slender tapered tip of the pink shaft, and tugged it up out of Max's hand. The tiger caught the package before it fell to the blanket, grasping it firmly around the shaft with his large striped paw. The cock was completely entombed in the thick, furry paw, with just its balls hanging out underneath. He reached into the basket, pulling out a black film canister and cracking that open with his thumb. He deftly maneuvered the canister until a long silver bead rolled out, landing in his open palm. 

He dropped the canister back into the basket and rolled the bead up his fingers. Pinching it between his thumb and pointer finger , he showed them to his folf assistant. 
"I actually have some new tech I wanted to introduce to you, see what you think." He said, as he brought the bead up to the cord of the portalled left testicle. "It's a new type of microportal, which is especially useful for certain situations." He pinched it inwards, slightly, and the tube-shaped bead unfurled, a bright spot of light visible as it peeled open to reveal some other hidden dimension, a spot of space time that did not belong in this world, not like this. 
Charn pressed the strange little space blob against the cord, released the pinch, and the bead collapsed in on itself. For a moment, the dangling testicular cords were bathed in a spot of warp space, and then it collapsed in on itself and the testicle dropped to the picnic blanket, no longer connected to the cord. 

"Wow, Charn," Max said, staring at the glistening orb that lay in some crumbs from the sandwich they had shared. "You just broke the laws of physics to cut off a single ball that you were already holding in your hand. I'm impressed. I didn't realize that a feline would go to such lengths, just to be lazy." 

"I'm not being lazy, and it's not cut off," Charn said, as he picked it up. The naked testicle filled his palm, and he gave it a friendly, healthy squeeze, making it bulge between his fingers. "It's completely connected. It just doesn't have a portal ring. The portal ring, that little bead thingie I had? It removes itself from this reality when I turn it on. So whatever's 'in' it is removed as well. Here, check it out."

He tossed the nut casually across the blanket, and Max caught it, fumbling with the warm, slick, heavy egg from paw to paw. He clapped his hands together, catching it between them, and then examined it. "Well, I mean, I can feel... oh that's so weird, I can feel the heartbeat pulsing through them, but the epididymis just ends."

"Yup, that's because just like a regular portal, it's still connected. The 'hubs' are just on the other side of the portal. Toss it back?" 

Max did, and Charn immediately slapped it back at the folf. Max yelped as it beaned him in the forehead, and both Max and the nut rolled backwards down the incline. Charn smirked as the folf flailed, crunching over the ball as he rolled on top of it. His assistant finally regained his bearings about twenty feet away, but by that time, Charn had pulled some more toys out of the basket and was standing up, holding one in either hand. They looked like some kind of batons, about a foot long and wrapped in leather. The tiger lifted his arms up, pressing some hidden button, and the batons ejected outwards, unfurling into tightly strung racquets. 

"Are you up for a game?" He said, smiling with all of his fangs exposed. Max stood up, holding the slightly flattened nut in one hand, and trudged back up the slight incline. 

"A game? You're going to make me exercise? Naked? In the middle of nowhere, surrounded by wolves and bugs and horrible scorpions?" He said, taking the offered racquet from the tiger. He swung it through the air, tightening his grip on it. "You don't make a lot of sense, tiger." 

He tossed the nut high up in the air, and enjoyed the wet THOK sound that the racquet made as the tightly drawn strings slammed into the ball. It soared through the air, and Charn danced to the right, spinning fluidly before return-THOCKing the nut back at him. 

It gleamed in the sunlight, and in a nearby tree, birds squawked in alarm at the airborne intruder. Max was ready for it though, jumping up to whack the nut with his own racquet. He paid attention to the way the taut strings embedded into the side of the ball, the flesh bulging out in cute little pink squares between the strands, before the nut's velocity was reversed and it sailed back towards the tiger. 

Unfortunately, Max was too busy staring at the nut being hammered by the racquet to see where he was slamming the ball towards, and Charn watched as the nut soared over head, smashed way too hard for him to be able to reach. 

"Poor form, old chap," He muttered, as he watched the nut THUNK against the branch of a tree, a gnarled knot of wood stabbing into the side of the plump, impromptu tennis ball. "Oh, well, there you go, you've popped it."

"Popped it?" Max squeaked, and in the picnic basket, something twitched in secretive delight. "Damn, I really hammered it, huh?" The folf squeezed his arms into hard flexes, admiring the thicc, beefy muscles he imagined existing there. 

Charn sighed. "Well, go get the package and bring it over to the tree, if you ruined this one we'll need to swap to the second one to keep having our fun."

"Why?" Max asked, as he picked up the kobold package by the dick. He swung it back and forth as he meandered over, still high on the rush of knowing he just served a dude's nut into mush. "I don't see any reason not to keep playing with the first one, just cuz it's-YAH!"

Charn had reached up and bounced his racquet off of the stuck nut, tapping it with the netting side to try to bounce it off of the branch and onto his racquet. The little knot that had impaled the ball must have been a little thicker than he realized, or perhaps it was rounded like a butt plug - either way, the ball flattened against the branch but did not come free, until he swung at it with the racquet from the side, like an ax. The sports toy skimmed along the rough bark before jamming in between the egg and the tree, snapping the little knot clean off the branch, the loud crack of it alarmed an animal that had been curled up in the bushes nearby. That animal had fled from the tiger, charging right towards the folf with its mouth open and its fangs gleaming. It was a wolf, protector of the forest, as rugged and rough around the edges as Max, who was half wolf, was soft and rounded. Max cringed, thrusting the kobold's package ahead of him like a crucifix in front of a vampire.

"Stay back!" He cried, but the wolf had no such intentions. At first, it had wanted to escape the crack of the wood being broken, but as it lunged towards Max, it found an interesting scent in the air. It lunged, directing its moment towards the folf's outstretched paw, and its drooling jaws encased the entirety of the kobold package.

Max shrieked, pulling his hand out of the wolf's mouth, and Charn was pleased to see that his assistant kept a hold of the chrome ring. The portal had just cleared the wolf's mouth when it chomped down, its teeth plunging deeply into the flesh of the kobold's straining cock and plump, heavy testicle. 

The sound of flesh being crushed, rupturing between powerful jaws was a familiar one for Charn, but Max just stood and stared, watching as the wolf chomped its jaws, again and again. Each time its mouth opened, the kobold's right nut had been squashed flatter, ruptured and oozing its innards in a thick paste into the wolf's maw. The cock was shorn into, still throbbing after the first bite but by the second it had been crushed and broken, just a wiggle of rubbery flesh. 

Then the wolf chomped down again, and wrenched its head to the side, and Max was left with just a portal ring and some frayed, dangling scraps of torn flesh. The wolf tossed its head back, the crushed mass of ruined kobold meat briefly bouncing in the air, before SNAPPING its jaws shut around it, gulping down its impromptu snack. It turned back to Max, sizing him up, and growled.

"Good puppy, good puppy," Max stammered, as he hid the chrome back behind his back. "You don't want that, oh no, Charn? Little help?"

THOK!

THWACK! The wolf yelped as something beaned it in the back of the head, the tennis ball from earlier served with a powerful spike. The wolf twisted around, growling and snapping at the open air, before seeing the attacker rolling down the incline. The pink and gray flesh had been bruised from the earlier thumps from the racquets, and the purplish-tinged ball bounced merrily ahead of the wolf. The ruptured side left a wet trail of soft, gleaming giblets as it rolled, and the wolf paused to lap and chomp at the fragrant, musky bits of ball meat as it chased it down towards the water.

"Oh, wow," Max said, letting out a long gasp of air as Charn rejoined him. "I thought for sure I was a goner." There was a soft plunk as the nut landed in the water, followed by a much larger splash as the wolf dove in on top of it. "But, at least I managed to save this!"

Max held up the portal, and Charn took it from him. "That's excellent, thank you. I saw that the wolf had chewed off almost everything, so I went ahead and unfastened the microband from the 'tennis ball'. I think it would have been okay in the wolf's stomach, but who knows what havoc it would have caused in the ecosystem, having an open portal just kind of hanging around." 

He touched the small stump of flesh that was still jutting through the portal, tracing along it with the very tip of a claw. "Max, check this out. Despite all of that trauma, this guy is still erect."

"No he's not, he doesn't even have a cock left!" Max said, squinting and getting closer to the portal. "Wait, you mean that STUB? That's not even a full inch!"

"It's not the length that matters," Charn said, as he slowly stroked a finger tip along the erect, stubborn kobold shaft. "Arousal and sensitivity comes from the brain. You should know that by now. This little feller is totally ready to pop, even after having violently lost most of his genitals."

He rubbed it, feeling it throb against his fingertip, and pushed down on it. "Man, if he's still THIS aroused, he must have been really pent up. Do you think we should let him get off?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, he's lost everything. This is his last chance at a normal ejaculation. You wouldn't just take that away from him, too, would you? You're cruel, but you're not THAT cruel. I mean, you've been playing with him for months, surely even your dark tiger heart can find a bit of empathy for him, right Charn?"

"I could." Charn agreed, as he pulled his thumb away from the aching, wounded kobold shaft. "But what's the fun in that?" He pressed that thumb against the side of the ring, activating some hidden sensor, and the portal ring glowed white. The flesh that still jutted through it fell off, little bits and scraps tumbling to the ground below. "It's always more fun to play with an intact set."

"Well, it's a bit late for that," Max muttered, nudging against a bit of tissue with his toes. He looked back to the portal, and his face blushed in confusion. "Wait, how-?"

There, in the portal ring, was the kobold's equipment, miraculously restored. The swollen nuts dangled at the end of long-stretched cords, and the soft shaft immediately began to twitch and throb in confusion.

"I restored him from the save file I made this morning," Charn explained. He flicked against one of the nuts with his other hand, and the cock twitched. "And it seems like it worked. He can still feel everything, just as well as he could before."

The tiger gripped the slender shaft between two fingers, like one might a cigarette, and casually stroked the slender, hardening shaft. "It reset his body to the same level of horniness that he had previously, too. His balls are telling him that he's not gotten off in months. The sudden pang of blue balls, after having nothing between his legs for a couple minutes?" The tiger whistled and shook his head in empathy. "That must be a shock. His poor dick doesn't know if it should be getting soft, getting hard, or pissing." 

"You're a monster," Max confirmed, and Charn nodded agreeably.

"Well, I mean, this is revolutionary, Max. I don't think you're seeing the big picture here. Now we can offer 'insurance' on portal rings, so that if SOMETHING were to go wrong, they could reclaim their junk for a nominal fee. It's brilliant, Max!"

Charn tossed the package onto the blanket, the nuts thumping onto a plate and the chrome ring thunking down on top of them, before they flopped portal side down. The sun glared down onto that plate, one of the few spots of the blanket that wasn't shaded. The folf and tiger didn't notice.
"So what else did you bring with you today?" Max asked, as he sat down on the ground. "Sandwiches, racquetball equipment, anything else?" He leaned backwards, resting on his hands in the nice, soft grass as the river rumbled softly behind them. The wolf had left, either carried down river by the water or skulking out and trotting away by its own volition.

"A whole basket full of stuff, Max. Including something I wager you've been hoping to play with." The tiger winked, as he nudged the basket over on its side, the folf shivering as he felt his own portalled package tumble out onto the checkered picnic cloth. Just as quickly as it was bared, it was hidden, under the much larger and much heavier flop of one of the other packages that had been brought along as well. "Have you gotten a chance to play with Skak?"

Max's cheeks reddened as he felt the other male's equipment laying, warm and soft and limp and heavy, on top of his own. He squirmed, trying to look nonchalant. "Nope, can't say that I ha-Ow!" The folf jerked upright, shaking his hand back and forth. He twisted, turning to look at the patch of grass that he had been resting his hand on, and realized that it was teeming, swarming with small red bugs. "Ah, sugar cookie. It seems we have company, Charn."

Charn chuckled, so deeply that it could have been mistaken as a purr, as he reached down to pluck the large package from on top of Max's own. The balls were massive, sheathed in a grayish scrotum with a hint of green in the bright sunlight. Charn's claws danced against them, and in response, the thick, puffy sheath bulged outwards with a massive doorknob of a cockhead. It pushed out into the open, plapping slick and musky against the tiger's wrist, but beyond that wide plug of a cap there was only a slender stalk of tender dark green cock flesh. The cockhead swung loosely as it disgorged, extruding the surprising length of dick until the glans dangled even below the huge balls that filled the tiger's grasp. "I think we have just the tool we need to solve this little ant problem."

"Unless that's an ant-eater's dick and they have some kind of hidden tongue-" Max started, but he paused as he watched the tiger's claws come into play. At first just dancing along the smooth, hairless pouch of bird balls, now they slipped into the flesh, just above the portal ring. The claws worked their way cleanly through the scrotum, through the sheath itself, slicing up through it and unzipping it, letting the thick, soft flesh come loose in his paw. The tiger unwrapped the ravel's package, peeling the greenish gray flesh away in one large, uninterrupted strip, and he held it up. The scrotum and sheath combo could easily be repurposed into some type of hat for the tiger, perhaps using the sheath as a drawstring to keep the smooth scrotum trussed against his head, but apparently right now it was destined to be an ant-hive condom. 

Only it wasn't that skin that Charn passed to Max, it was the package and the portal ring. He tossed it, and the naked cock and cord-hanging balls flailed through the air, landing against the folf's chest in a 'thump-thump-whamph', rolling down over each other into his lap. 

Max picked it up, ears turning red with the weight of it. "You want me to... plug the ant hole?" He asked, his voice a mix of incredulity and curiosity. He couldn't look away from the fat, beefy eggs that were dangling right in front of him, easily twice the size of the kobold's. 

"With pleasure," Charn replied, smirking at the folf, his stripes bristling with the small pun he had made. There was a gleam in his eye, and it made Max excited and scared at the same time. 

"Well, okay," Max said, and turned to face the ant hill. His hand had dislocated the top of the ant's colony, and they were swarming the area, looking for intruders to scare off with their fierceness. He could feel the heartbeat of the male who's junk he was holding, an alien heart beat that throbbed through the shaft that was perking up excitedly, the sharp pain of the shorn scrotum lost in the anticipation of pleasure and release. He knelt down, by the colony, careful to remain outside of the swarming blur of tiny angry little bugs, and started lowering the broad head down towards the dark, gaping hole in the earth. It did look soft, and squishy. Maybe it would feel kind of nice...?

Behind them, the kobold's cock began to lose its sheen of moisture in the bright, dry, hot sunshine. The chrome gleamed, as Charn and Max examined the ant hill, and up in the tree, a mother bird canted her head, peering down at the shiny thing on the ground below her. She hopped from her nest, and landed on the picnic blanket next to the plate with the dried out kobold cock and balls on it.

Peck. She poked at it with her beak, flapping her wings and hopping away, but the creature, if it was a creature, didn't respond, other than to flop slightly from the movement. She hopped closer, and pecked at it again, stabbing her beak against the smooth, solid tennis ball of the kobold's left testicle.  It took a third peck to figure out how to burrow her beak into the flesh, the same as she would into old, rotted tree wood, searching for grubs. 

Oh, and did she find grubs! The pecked open testicle filled her beak with a delicious, warm, salty chunk of grub. She tugged back, dragging a long 'worm' of flesh out from inside the strange egg, and gobbled it down. Perfect! 

She'd not had this particular type of grub before, but it was perfect. She turned back, and dabbed her beak back into the rupture in the beak's shell. Pinching, she twisted and flapped her wings, carrying her mouthful back up to her nest up above. The ball came with it, sliding off of her beak but its tender nougat still caught in her mouth. It lifted with her, until it reached the end of the cords, and then tore free, slapping down onto the other one and resting on the plate again. The bird flapped up to her nest, stuffing a mouthful of kobold nugget into one of her peepers' open maws, and then flew back down to get another mouthful.

Max whipped the fingers of his hand to the side, casting ants away from himself. He had positioned the dick perfectly, and was just nudging the tip down into the open hole, but there was a new problem. 
The ravel's balls were dangling down into the grass, and ants were already swarming against them, biting and stinging. He could feel them trying to pull up, but without the scrotum that would normally be used to do the heavy lifting, they were left to dangle, gently spinning in the cool air. Max hooked an arm around the stretched cords, pulling them against his chest to keep them safe as he worked on inserting a dick into an anthill.

The small bites against his knees, and now his forearm from where the ones that were chomping away at ravel balls were scurrying around, reminded him of the urgency of the situation. There was no time to relocate the picnic blanket. This was the only solution. If he thought about it, really hard, he almost believed it. Fortunately, the dark and pervy part of him that wanted to see what would happen was loud enough to help Max gaslight himself into pretending to believe it, and isn't that what really matters?

As he pressed the swollen bird cock into the swarming hole in the earth, he felt the hole at first crumble away from the broad, rounded head. Ants immediately began to swarm it, and could see them latching on, biting into the glossy, tender flesh with their tiny little mandibles. He pushed down, and the cock itself thickened and surged in confused arousal as the sensation of pins and needles became exponentially worse with each gnawing little bite. The soil resisted his push, and Max had to lean down onto the ring, using it to force that cock to penetrate into the ant hole properly. There must be some kind of twist or bend in the main passage, as the thick glans scraped and sank its way downward, half an inch at a time. He tried pulling it upwards, but that just made the earth itself come up with it, and after only an inch or so, he abruptly jammed it back down again. The small reversal had resulted in the earth compacting down around the cock, and he was sure that the glans was being spread wide, the pee-hole slowly tearing open as the lips were pulled much much further apart by the dry, gripping walls of the anthole than it was designed to weather.

The bird returned back to the plate, and her mate joined her. Squawking softly amongst themselves, they began to pick and stab their beaks into the twin testicles that rested, helpless and unprotected, on the plate. The ruptured one was the easier one to get tasty nugget paste out of, but the bird's mate was curious about the other, slightly larger of the two 'eggs' that they were pilfering. It rested a taloned paw on top of it, its long scythelike claws curling and pressing into the flesh. Birds rarely have to be delicate, and it had to reason to want to be here, so its claws sank into the flesh, revealing hot spurts of freshly generated, freshly restored kob meat to the air. That perfectly aligned with its intentions, as it stabbed its beak down in and wiggled it, ripping a larger chunk of flesh free from inside the sliced-open shell. He pulled his head back, then stabbed inwards again, stacking a second chunk of nutmeat against the first. Then again, and again, he plundered the ball of its ripe, fresh, succulent innards.

Finally, Max had an idea, and twisted the portal counterclockwise, just like he would the cap of a jar of spaghetti sauce. That helped immensely, and the portal suddenly surged downwards, the cock smoothly plunging down into the nest. Max held the portal in place, imagining in the back of his mind that he had just helped this alien creature fuck the earth, that he was combining his world with the populator of another world. It made his breath hitch with the perversion of it all.

"You know," Charn said from directly behind the folf, making Max yelp and scrabble away from them both. "The ant nests in this area are said to spread for miles. There's videos of them picking a fox carcass clean, just bones left, in only an hour or so."

Max stared up at the tiger, horrified, as Charn casually lifted up one of the large, swollen eggs of the ravel, the grapefruit sized breeding organ overflowing his fingers. He winked at Max, and then swung it down, hammering the delicate egg powerfully into the backside of the portal with a WHUMPH. The portal sang slightly into the soft earth, and Charn yanked the egg up before slamming it down again, bringing it to the very limits of its cords before crushing it into the unyielding metal. 

"Don't worry, though, these aren't 'meat eating' ants. They actually subsist almost entirely on the bark and leaves of a native cinnamon plant. All they're going to do is bite, not destroy." He slammed the nut onto the top of the plate a third time, and seemed happy about how deeply embedded the portal had been inserted into the earth. "You did a great job, Max. I never thought you'd be the kind of guy to take an anthill's cherry, but, cheers to you. You're a sicko. You did such a great job, I'll even let you use some of that tube of cream in the basket and get your little bites treated. This ant's saliva burns for a long, long time."

Charn took the second testicle and placed it next to the first, and rested his palms on top of both of them. He leaned forward, mimicking Max's posture, and flattened the ripe nuts into the portal ring, crushing all three of them into the earth. "Just think, this guy's cock is fucking deeper into an anthill than anyone's ever gone before. I hope he doesn't taste like cinnamon. The ants would strip the 'bark' off of his johnson in no time."

The birds squawked at each other as they squabbled over the remaining pieces of the kobold's package. The balls had been laid open, their shells picked clean, gleaming with strands of gooey gore that laid around them in a sloppy, scattered mess. The cock had been picked, clawed at, and ripped apart, shredded open by sharp claws as they each dueled to get at the tender, juicy tip.

Under the surface, the ants were taking a much much different tactic. The reason that the ants enjoyed the cinnamon plant so much wasn't because of the spicy bark, but rather the sap. The ravel's shaft was indeed leaking sap, the confused avian unable to do anything but throb and pulse as his cock was crudely forced into the tight, slick, gripping anthole. The ants covered the bird's testicles, biting into the tender flesh of the epididymis and the membrane of the testicles themselves, but down in the ant hole, an entire pageantry of intrusiveness was unfolding.

Sap. They tasted it. Whatever world this thing came from, it had elements, compounds in it that triggered the little antennae of the scurrying bugs that nipped and crawled and tickled over the straining flesh. They attacked the well-stretched lips at the very tip of the ravel's shaft, and their first couple bites weakened the flesh that was already stretched tightly back along the shaft, so that it began to split apart, peeling away from the tender urethra inside. 

The world had shifted for this colony of ants, their everyday life upturned as they were invaded by this colossal affront to their sovereignty. The fact that it was also delicious mattered not. They rallied, a mass of chitinous bodies and gnawing pincers flowing over the trapped and shaft, and as they found the source of its slick sap, upwards. Inwards. Scents alien and intoxicating wafted from the being, fueling their fervency as they sought any vulnerability upon its smooth expanse.  Up into the shaft, nippling and stripping, tearing at the succulent inner lining in sharp bits that worried away miniscule tidbits of bird flesh, the ants consumed and conquered. Some forged forward; they were just small enough, hydrodynamic enough that they could wiggle past the onslaught of precum, deeper and deeper into the hard, hot flesh of the captive bird. Some were waylaid; unable to resist the bounty of delicious flesh and sap, they buried themselves into the delicate inner lining, but for each one that sunk into the slick hot flesh, ten more trudged ever inwards, a soft, flexible, penetrating line of nibbling bugs. 

As Charn and Max watched, the testicles squirmed, inflamed with little red spots that bulged from each of the tiny bites that the ants inflicted upon them. They oohh's and aahh's over how strong the lining of those testicles were, how durable they were to take so many dozens of penetrating bites without even springing a leak. The deviant males couldn't see the depths that the ants had burrowed up into the ravel's cock, and of course the poor trapped ravel had no way to tell them to pull the ants out, to indicate that their spicy love nips were filling his loins with fire that he had never felt before. He couldn't tell them how he could feel that heat sinking deeper and deeper, small red hot lances of molten needles that bit and dug ever deeper up inside of his most precious, intimate nether place.

Their mandibles clamped down with primal fervor upon the intruding flesh; a 'being' of such girth that it filled their entire world. The soldiers scaled the length of it, inside and out, driven by instinctual rage and the unspoken command of their queen. Deep within the chaotic fray, their monarch, larger and more resolute than her subjects, approached the base of the towering column. Her antennae quivered as she sensed the pulsing sap emanating from its tip. With purpose, she crawled into the oozing aperture that crowned the formidable shaft, the portal to her conquest. The air was thick with the musk of intrusion as the queen arrived at the precipice of the velvet-smooth head. Other, smaller ants cleared the way for her, the rim of the urethra whittled down and away to make it more palatable for her intentions. Her slender form edged closer to the leaking orifice, and then she burrowed into the piss slit's tender flesh. The sensation of yielding, moist resistance met her efforts as they chewed through the delicate inner lining, carving out an even wider niche in this foreign entity for herself. There was no reason to think that this thick bulk of meat would be leaving, after all. Whatever it was, it had been planted inside her home, for her to take succor from, and she would burrow into it and integrate it into her collective hive, just like she had the miles and miles of underground tunnel that she had burrowed through before this. 

Each of her bites removed a tender morself of soft, succulent tissue, pinching it half way free from the inner walls. As she passed by the embedded scouts that had gone before her, she left these morsels for her guards to attack, to break down and bring to her colony. 
Just because her ants preferred the bark and leaves of the cinnamon tree did not mean that they would leave these resources to rot. Food was food and if they did not claim it, their adversaries would.

When she broke through the narrow sphincter that marked the separation from the penile urethra to the inner urethra, that was when things got harder for her. Somewhere, a ravel thrashed on sheets made from the fibers of an alien plant, hands squirming to crush and squeeze the insect that it felt, not longer in his cock, but in his groin itself. He punched at himself, tried to pinch his flesh down to flatten the insistent biting and gnawing that dug deeper and deeper into himself, but he could not. And he realized with increasing wariness that the larger bug was clawing, chewing, burrowing its way towards his prostate.

Worlds away, Max poked at the fat, reddened ravel testicles with a small wooden stick, watching as it wobbled juicily. The ants that practically coated it swarmed onto the stick, angrily seeking what they saw as an attack on their property.

"Well, I'm glad to have been able to keep the ants from destroying our picnic, but," Max said thoughtfully. "This can't be pleasant for your friend, the one who's letting you portal him like this."

"Well, to be fair, he's not 'letting' me portal him, as much as I caught him trying to sneak into the office party," Charn explained. "So, I think this is exactly the kind of discipline that a rogue bird brat like him can use."

"Yeah, but..." Max shuddered. "Being devoured and stung incessantly, by ants, for hours? And what happens if they colonize his dick and balls!"

"That's true. I already do have one colonized dick and balls, back at my place." Charn sighed and leaned forward, brushing the ants off of the ravel's swollen testicles. He grabbed them in either hand, ignoring the small stings he felt from the stragglers, and yanked them up and away from the hive. 

At first, the portal ring didn't move, and Max thought that the tiger was going to rip the testicles clean from their connection. The tiger's fingers buried into the soft, tender flesh, the red bite marks turning white as they bulged out between the powerful crushing squeeze. He tugged again, and the silver ring began to unearth itself. The cords strained, and Max swore that he could see small tears beginning to unkink themselves from the tightly bundled pack of nerves, vessels and sperm ductiles, but somehow the portal ring shlorped wet and raw and rough from deep inside the ant hill.

There were small ants swarming over every inch of it, and there were multiple tiny attempts at tunnels bored into the twitching, still very much erect shaft of the bird's cock. The glans had swollen immensely, inflamed and puffy, and the hole that had been cored out of the glans was big enough for the folf to stick his own dick into... if that was something he was into. 

He watched in horrified fascination as a flow of ants poured out of the exposed glans, dropping back into the disrupted earth, some carrying tiny glistening 'bits' on their backs as they did so. "Oh, Charn, this looks bad... his whole dick is completely coated in little bites. I don't think the ants like him very much."

"I disagree, they clearly love him! Why else would they be making him part of their hive, mm?" The tiger teased, as he swung the cock around by its loose-corded testicles, slamming the side of the dick against the top of the loose dirt of the anthill. Ants went flying, the cock wobbling from the impact. He slapped it back and forth, before grunting as the ants bit and nibbled and gnawed their way all the up to where he was holding the cords between his fingers. He cursed, flinging the entire package end over end towards the picnic blanket, where it bounced and rolled before coming to a stop. 

"Well, first things first, let us relocate, as I think the ants are going to be even more irritated now than they were before."

"We should have just moved in the first place," Max grumbled, as he helped the tiger tug and pull the blanket a good ten feet away from the anthill and the base of the tree. Neither of them noticed the empty plate where they had left the kobold's equipment, though Charn's ear did flick at the sound of birds flapping their wings and chirping at each other in the branches over their heads. 

"Who could have known that the ants would be so industrious?" Charn asked, knowing exactly what was going to happen from the very beginning. "What matters now is what we do because of it." He took a small squeeze bottle of hand sanitizer from the basket and opened it up, squeezing half of it out along the length of cock and exposed testicles the way one might adorn a hot dog with ketchup. He discarded the bottle and grasped the cock, stroking and smearing the alcoholic gel deep into the bites. The ants that were still swarming the cock fell off, legs twitching in the air as the potent sanitizer overwhelmed their tiny little nervous systems. 

"That's not going to help with the pain, is it?" Max asked, doubtfully. Charn shook his head.

"Nope, actually it's probably making it worse. This is like putting hot water on top of a fresh burn. It is antagonizing the inflammation and wounds, but it's also sanitizing them, and killing off the bugs, which makes this package safe to handle, for us anyways. No more bites!"

"What about the bugs on the inside of the cock?" Max pressed. 

The tiger nodded back to the basket, as he kneaded and squeezed, crushing the fat nuts against each other as he slathered them with lime-scented alcoholic gel. "Get the small round tin, the one that looks like cream. It's not a cream, it's actually two worms, but they're perfect for this situation. Oh, and, do you think we should flambe this sanitizer off of the dick? It would look really cool."

"No, Charn, I don't. First of all, burning a dude's naked genitals is just going to numb them, meaning you don't have the satisfaction of knowing you're causing pain afterwards. Secondly, this commission is about creepy crawlies digging and probing and infesting, NOT cooking and burning and disintegrating!" Max slapped the tiger in the back of the head, as he handed him the requested vial, already screwed open to reveal a pretzel of sliming, glistening tapeworms. They were slightly segmented, with inch long ripples with slight indents between them, like individual capsules. Max was very careful not to let the grotesque, alien, evil things touch his hands. 

"Thank you." Charn seemed happy with his 'sanitizing' of the package, as the alcoholic gel dried out, forming a dry, flaky 'crust' on the flesh. There were no wiggling ants anymore, save for the occasional one that came to the tip of the gaping urethra from inside, sniffed around, and fled back inside. "Now these, you should be thankful for Max. These are antworms." He wiped his fingers off on his thighs and reached into the little container, pinching a worm with each of his paws and lifting them carefully up into the sunlight. They were glistening, oozing with a slick slime that seemed to secret out from between each segment. "They are carnivorous. Which one do you think will win?"

"Win?" Max scrunched up his muzzle, distressed. "Win what, exactly?"

"Well, they work in pairs," Charn explained, as he lowered the two worms towards the end of the bird's penis. The broad, spherical glans was oblong now, having lost some of its structural support with that inner half-inch of urethral lining being gouged away by dozens of tiny pinchers. The worms began to wiggle, swaying back and forth blindly. The tiger was careful to not give either an advantage as he let them touch on either side of the cockhead, and they immediately swirled against it, licking up over and then probing their way into the exposed piss hole. "There's two of them... and two testicles. The left one is the bigger one, so they both want to get to that testicle first. Which do you think will make it?" 

"Oh, well, um," Max stammered, transfixed. The worms had found the entrance to their 'ant hill', and had plunged in almost simultaneously. The cock bulged outwards with the finger-thick double worm sounding it was suddenly getting, and the slick slime that they secreted pooled and drooled down over the bulging glans. "Well how would I know which one is which...?"

Charn thought about that, then smacked his forehead. He scrambled to the basket, pulling out a small flashlight. Purple light shone from it, and he pressed it against the side of the dark green shaft. There was a visible bulge about a third of the way down the length of it, as the worms inched their way in, two small tubes traveling alongside each other down the big tube. As he pressed it against the flesh, Max saw a faint glow begin to appear up the length of the bird's shaft. One glowed 'day glo' green, and the other day-glo pink. In the flesh, it was muted, nearly invisible, but the ends of the worms that were still jutting out of the end of the ravel's shaft began to glow quite brightly.

"So they're, like, living glow sticks," Max muttered. "Why do I feel like you stole these from a hospital or something?"
"We developed these in CharnCo," Charn snickered, as the glowing worms vyed to push past each other as they bloated and swelled and then forced themselves forward, intruding and pushing downwards. Soft crackling sounds could be heard, perhaps from the worms themselves but more likely from the torn, ruined urethra that was being inflated and split apart from inside. "They're fantastically useful for marking cocks out in the field. Just let one segment wiggle down inside, and the cock is tagged. Bugged, if you will." He chuckled at his little joke. "So, which do you choose? Green or pink?"

"Pink," Max said, hugging his knees to his chest as he watched. The cock bulged with the worms, the voracious slimy tubules forcing their way down into the slender root of the cock. Charn traced the worms' passage, holding up the ultraviolet light as they sank deeper and deeper into the warm flesh. Charn observed the subtle undulations of flesh as they delved into the root of the penis. It was a sight to behold, an almost imperceptible shift of power as these tiny beings claimed dominion over, or rather, into, a part of the ravel that was once untouchable. 
"Ah, there you go," Charn praised, his excitement barely contained beneath his composed exterior. "Make yourselves at home." The worms, their bodies bathed in a soft luminescence that made their path visible beneath the delicate skin, edged into the ejaculatory duct with inexorable persistence. He could see the two worms reach a crux as they independently vied first taste into the cramped little passage. He could see as it distended, as the very tips of the worms' butts sank into the end of ravel's shaft, both lengths squirming and bulging their way down. 
"That was a close one," he said to Max, watching as the green worm forced its way through the prostatic urethra. "It would have been easy for it to go the wrong way, and end up inside the bladder. It would have been a loss for us but it wouldn't have harmed him any. As it is, there's no way to get them out, ourselves, now. They're on the way into the prostate, and, well, hopefully they don't get stuck there."
"So what happens next?" Max asked. "If we can't watch them moving, how are we supposed to know where they are?"
"Well, first, they're going to probe their way up into the seminal vesicle. That's where the finished sperm is mixed with fluids to be squirted out during ejaculation. The worms will replenish their fluids there, and consume all of that finished sperm. If the ravel were to ejaculate, literally nothing would come out, it would be dry and painful, even if they were super blue balling. Which they are, obviously. The pain that they've been feeling from the ants should be residing right about now, and that means that they're feeling a huge endorphins rush and would like nothing more than to ejaculate." Charn held the cock towards Max, who demurred. The glans of the bird's shaft was hanging limply, like an over stretched sock, down over the shaft of the penis. It looked defeated. 
"Will they be doing anything in the prostate itself?" Max asked, watching the two glowing worms sink further and further down the ravaged shaft. He imagined the worms filling up the bird's prostate, coiling around each other in a lover's embrace. 
They would glow, their light a soft beacon in the darkness, their caressing nudges casting an ethereal glow upon tissue that had never known such luminescent touch. 
The sinuous dance of the worms would continue, relentless in their pilgrimage. They wriggled and contorted, glistening with a sheen of determination as they pushed into tubes that were never meant to be breached, never meant to carry anything other than tiny little gametes.
Their progress was slow, deliberate, like a lover's caress mapping the path of deepest intimacy. Max could imagine them, gyrating, their bodies stretching and tickling against the inside of the ravel's prostate. Was that why the erection in the tiger's hands was flexing back into sturdy thickness? Was the press of worms filling and swelling his inner workings pleasurable in some way?
"There they are," Charn said, as he saw a faint glow begin to appear, a pale yellow appearing on both of the trapped male's tubes. They had been staring at the trapped package, holding and watching for some span of time, entranced with the exotic savagery of one male's anatomy by the weird, alien life that the tiger's labs had concocted. "I can't tell which is on which side, but, they found their way out of the seminal vesicle, and into the vas deferens. Now, they're not just probing their way down through them. There's no way they'd fit. Plus, they're probably fat with the protein and sugars from consuming all that ejaculate. No, they're digesting their way down."
He moved the flashlight to the base of the ravel's erection, which had no trace of worms still in it - they were entirely entombed in the ravel's reproductive system now. Still, he angled the flashlight, trying to get it to illuminate into the ravel's groin, so that he could better see which glow was which. "Oh this is so tense, you know if you win you get your balls back, right?"
"Uh huh," Max said, his mind a million miles away. "What do you mean, 'digesting their way down'. The area where the cords disappeared into the portal was bulging now, the glow getting slightly brighter, and Max squinted at the two of them. "Like, they're eating the vas deferens?"
"No, just the inside. There's a complicated transportation system which simply can't handle a set of worms like this. They're, ah, grooming it back. Think of a pipe cleaner, sliding through a rusty tube. They're doing that, but they're eating the rust, too. Ah ha!" Charn chuckled. "Green wins. Sorry Max, I guess I get your balls for another month."
True enough, it was apparent that the green worm had taken the left branch, and the pink one had taken the right. They were still completely trapped inside the vas deferens, but it was obvious that they had changed from their journey. Their bodies, once sleek and streamlined, now swelled grotesquely as they secreted the enzymes necessary to break down the very walls meant to safeguard the portalled male's genetic legacy. An eighth of an inch at a time, they extruded their way down their respective organic tracts, and the vas deferens bulged obscenely with each undulation of the invaders' bodies
"It looks so painful," Max whimpered, but he couldn't stop watching as the two worms 'raced', excruciatingly slowly, down towards the feasts that awaited them at the end of those cords. The epididymis.
The green one was first. Perhaps the slightly larger left testicle resulted in a flexibility, a micron wider vas deferens than the right testicle did. Just a slightly more active output over dozens of years, or whatnot. Either way, the green worm found its nirvana at the end of the vas deferens, which bloated outwards with the probing head as it burrowed its way into the next step.
"Sometimes, the worms will fade away here. They have used up a lot of calories to keep their paths well lubricated, and digesting all that tissue takes time. Working their way down these cords is a tedious, careful process - if they push too hard, the cord pops and they are too blind and stupid to find their way back in through a split. The poor things are exhausted, but... yup, here we go. Watch."
The green worm probed, and the taut glistening flesh bulged at its absolute limits, before suddenly collapsing. The worm worked its way inwards, and both tiger and folf could see the epididymis swell outwards as it inflated with the sudden intruding mass of the hungry worm. 
"So once they hit this, it's a jackpot," Charn said, only whispering now, as if afraid to catch the attention of the worm. The green worm slithered into the epididymis delightedly, leaving the vas deferens it had traveled down deflated, stretched and limp. "It's carving its way into the heart of this, sucking up all of the gametes that have been sent out of the testicle. This is what it's going to impregnate itself with."
"Imp..impreg... no. Charn, what? No." 
"Mm hmm," Charn said. "Taking on half of the genetics of the rather, it's going to create ... something new. Something magical." He winked at the folf. "We've never tested this technology with organics from another universe before. It is really quite exciting."
"So it's going to make a baby...?"
"Two, actually." Charn pointed to the pink worm, which was eagerly slurping its way into the other testicle. "After about a month, they'll both have consumed more than the testicles can provide, nutrient wise, and we'll see a ... a pupa hatch out of it."
"And what will the pupa do?" Max asked, dread deep in his voice. "Charn, why did you bring me out into the middle of the forest to have me help impregnate an alien bird's balls with... with worms...?"
"Because you're my assistant," Charn replied, not answering the first question. The testicles rolled gently on the ground, as the worms shifted and flexed and burrowed around inside them. Feasting. Gestating. And growing.
"I can tell this is a bit much for you to handle, right now," Charn said. He lifted up the ravel's package, and set it carefully back into the picnic basket. "So let's do something a little more exciting and normal than that. Where's that kobold snack?"
"It's right..." But it wasn't right there. Max peeked around, but the plate was empty. There was no sign of the kobold's equipment anywhere. He looked to Charn, who tapped himself on the nose and gave Max a wink. Oh, right. Scent. The smell of musky kobold balls. He picked up the plate, stuffing his nose into it, then lifted it to the air. If the wolf had somehow come back and grabbed it...
The tree. He could pick up the piquant scent of lizard musk in the tree that they had been sitting next to. He scrambled up the trunk, pausing to huff at the air, and caught a gleam of silver peeking out of a bird nest. There.
"Uh, boss, I don't think you're gonna like this," he said. He hopped down from the lowest tree branch, the portal ring in hand. There wasn't anything hanging from it. Correction; there was still... things. But it was just a crust. The remaining skin and tissue, which hadn't been picked off by the birds and fed to their egglings, had baked dry in the sun. Just crunchy, leathery tissue remained now. Charn looked at it, nonplussed, then reached out and slid his thumb along the outer rim of the portal ring. 
"Easy peasy," he said, as the portal ring flared again with new, bright light. The light flickered across his face in soft waves as before his eyes, protons and neutrons and electrons re-coalesced into the familiar shape of a smooth, tapering kobold shaft and two naked, tennis-ball sized testicles. They shimmered as they corporealated, and both cock and balls spasmed as they were suddenly fused with the body on the other side of the portal, fueling the hapless, confused kobold with the sensation of being intact, well endowed, and horny. The poor fellow's brain had gone through this cycle twice now, and Max wondered aloud just how much any male's nervous system could take.
"Three's the lucky number," Charn explained. "Well, in that, there's only two charges in a portal ring, so this is the 'final life' if you will of this poor kobold's equipment."
"The... FINAL life? You mean if it is ruined now, it's ruined for good?" Max asked.
"That's right. If you get castrated in the game, you get castrated in the real world!" Charn said, waggling his eyebrows. He took the package from Max, and gave the folf a friendly noogie. "No, silly. I just can't reload the old save until we get back to the lab and resync the multiverse charges. These portals can only swap verses twice. After that, it gets... risky."
"Swap verses," Max repeated, dumbly. Charn looked at him, and scrunched his eyes up in a kindly smile.
"You've gone through a lot today. Go fish around in the basket, I have some lovely apple fritters that we can eat while we watch the final show."
As Max did that, Charn walked down towards the river bank. The tree, the wolf, the birds, the ant hill, those had all been incidental amusements to enjoy while they settled into the area. This was the thing that had caught Charn's attention, though. Thiiiis... was what had made him drop an expensive, irretrievable transportation ring here, in order to come back to later.
He had timed it right. He knelt down by a small, dark, moist patch of soil. No grass grew upon it, and as he watched, a few bubbles swelled up between the small rocks and twigs that had been crudely pulled over top of this. Max joined him, kneeling next to him, his tail curling and his ears folding back as he got a whiff of something.. dangerous. Something slick and hungry and terrible.
"What's in the dark spot, Charn?" He whispered, as Charn set the portal down, in clear view of the two of them. Charn cleared his throat, and then began to narrate, imitating the cultured, enthusiastic accent of a narrator from a nature documentary. 
"Ladies and gentlemen, we find ourselves in the midst of a remarkable encounter, observing an alien creature displaying its extraordinary feeding behavior. Here, on the bank of a tranquil river, we witness the convergence of two vastly different worlds - the disembodied masculine package of an "Eublepharidae Draco", and the pseudopod of an "Orchisuctor Sensitiva". Our attention is first caught by the plump, healthy gonads of the "Eublepharidae Draco", known in the common tongue as the 'common Kobold'. The meager shaft stands guard over two plump, ripe testicles, glistening in the warm sunlight. These testicles are full and relaxed, unaware of the imminent intrusion into their serene existence. But what's this?"
The soil in front of the kobold's package had begun to bulge, shifting with soft movements, and now a green stem emerged from the rich, fertile soil. This was no ordinary plant, though, and as the two onlookers watched, a sinuous, translucent green tendril pushed up into the air. It was only a few inches across, but it was eager, freshly hatched and full of energy.
Charn continued the narration, batting at Max's paw as he moved to tug the package out of harm's way. "The Orchisuckot sensitive, also known as the 'nut gobbler'. This rare, exotic creature is rarely reported as being seen, which one might question if they did not realize just what it is capable of. Indeed, it has a mesmerizing grace, and moves with an unknowing, unthinking decision towards what it desires.... masculine flesh. Watch as it extends its elongated appendage towards the unsuspecting kobold package. These ripe kobold testicles, full with weeks of unspent sperm, have released a pheromone into the air that has attracted this beautiful, but deadly specimen. Its tentacle, adorned with tiny, sensitive tendrils, delicately probes the air, seeking out the perfect entry point."
"But, Charn, you said this is his last-"
"Ah, there! The tentacle plant has found its mark; the slender, unsuspecting tip of the kobold's penis. With remarkable dexterity, the tentacle's probing tip glides along kobold's glans, sensing the oozing precum that oozes out of the penis's one weak spot, and cunningly bypasses it."
The tentacle had indeed found the end of the kobold's cock, and was folding itself over the end of it, the slick green jello gulping down over the smooth red shaft. Max and Charn both watched as the engulfed skin began to turn white as the enzymes of the inside of the tentacle began to break down the freshly-formed, extremely sensitive flesh. 
"Charn, this isn't 'bypassing' it, it's DIGESTING his dick!"
Charn watched, fascinatedly, as the tentacle clenched down and somehow pinched into the flesh, and with very little effort pinched the last two inches of kobold dick clean off. He narrated onwards, as the severed bit of kobold dick was pulled down the inside of the tentacle, more and more inches separating it from the rest of the penis. 
"The tentacle has no use for the penis, which is merely a transport system for what it truly craves: Sperm. This thirsty plant can not work its way down the urethra tube directly, so it is doing the next best thing: removing it entirely. Hard at work, it uses its limited oral cavity and copious meat-digesting enzymes to remove this blockage. The small pieces of cock that it removes, will be composted into a highly valued fertilizer that is used to grow a very specific fungus."
A second and third piece of kobold cock had been pulled away from the stem, the remaining trunk of shaft throbbing incessantly as it was raided, slickly stroked and sucked at as it was 'bitten' and removed by the mindless plant. 
"It has no concept of the agony that its enzymes are causing as they burn through fascia, tendon and muscle alike. The slick syrup that it secrets is a highly potent mix of these enzymes combined with a nervous system dampener. While it does not numb the pain, it blocks transmitters of the brain to the voluntary muscle system."
"You mean he's... paralyzed?" Max whispered, horrified.
"Yes. Well, of course, any 'free' prey would bolt away with the plant's first 'kiss', so effort must be made to prevent that. The nut gobbler has several species that have taken different evolutionary paths, but this is the most rare, on account of how unforgiving a recovered male is to a plant that just devoured his reproductive system."
The last of the kobold's shaft shivered, buckling and then coming free, and the bulging tentacle pushed upwards and inwards, similar to the worms from only a half an hour or so earlier. It surged into the portal ring, even as the pieces of the kobold's cock surged backwards, disintegrating into a reddish brown goop by the time it disappeared into the soil. 
"So how is it, uh, holding itself in place? The worms used their bodies as like, I mean, I get how they 'inchworm' themselves down inside, but this is just a blob of fluid."
"Not quite," Charn said. He hooked a finger under the tentacle, lifting it up gently so that Max could get a closer look at it. "It has microflagellates lining its surface. Basically, microscopic ivy vines. They hook into the surface of flesh by wiggling in between individual cells, anchoring the plant in place. If it touches flesh that it detects is 'sexual', it excretes these barbs to hold it in place while it explores the area, searching for a higher concentration of testosterone. If it pushes too hard against the flesh, because it's reached a 'dead end' or a blockage, then the cells rupture and release enzymes that digest the cells around them."

"What a fascinating info dump," Max said, wryly. "And, conveniently, I guess you're leaving out how the tentacle is maneuvering its way through the kobold's system. Lets see, you don't want to kill the guy so my guess is that it's not 'digesting' the entire urethra. Once it got past the root of the penis, where the penis splits into its roots, then it would have met the, uh, the squirty gland. It might dissolve through that... but I'm guessing that's relaxed enough with the paralytics that it could just dilate it, push in through it normally."
"That's correct, it's most likely in the urethra now and following the natural path of testosterone, just like the worms did," Charn confirmed. "Inside the kobold's reproductive system, a delicate dance of assimilation is unfolding. The tentacle plant's feeding tendrils extend,  soaking up the fluids inside the seminal vesicle. This is just a reservoir, not the source, though, so it will fairly quickly resume 'dowsing' towards the testicles themselves. As we watch, it is tapping into the kobold's vas deferens' nutrient-rich channels. It feeds as it extends, extracting those fluids so vital to its growth, compelling the kobold to unwittingly nourish its invader."
 "And now it's coming down the tube. Oh, Charn, look at it, it's rupturing it," Max said, cupping his mouth in horror. 
"Indeed. I was worried this might happen. The plant is attracted to very heavy 'doses' of testosterone, which usually only occurs in very large males. This kobold is so pent up, so 'compacted' with sexual need, despite being about half the size of one of its normal meals. The vas deferens simply can not handle the intrusion."
The vas deferens had split in front of the tentacle, which continued along inside the tube, which continued to burst, a half inch to an inch at a time, as the tendril blindly pushed and digested its way through it. The tentacle strangely did not seem interested in moving from one cord to the other, as it blindly sought out the epididymis of the kobold, nor did it take a short cut along the outside of the cord. The tentacle, where it was exposed to the air, instead created a sort of hard, gellid sheath over the cord. Charn touched that sheath, showing how it was smooth and solid, barely flexing under the pressure of his finger tip.
"This protects it from bugs and other predators that might attempt to infiltrate and steal its hard won spoils," Charn pointed out. "This takes a lot of energy to navigate such a circuitous route through a male's urological system. Imagine getting this far and you spring a leak, spilling melted nuts out onto the ground instead of siphoning it into your tentacle belly?"
The tentacle had followed the split, ruined vas deferens all the way to the epididymis. Where the worms had coiled up here, chowing down on fresh sperm to nest and brood with, the tentacle pierced directly into the testicle. Charn lifted the nut up, and pressed it into Max's hand. "Can you feel that?"
"Oh, I can. Oh, I don't like that. The ball is... swelling. I can feel it shifting, squirming. I can feel something filling it up, something heavier than the nut itself."

"That's right! The tentacle plant's ingenious strategy now becomes apparent. By bypassing the external defenses, it cleverly avails itself of the kobold's succulent offerings from within, securing its own sustenance at the expense of its unsuspecting host. This remarkable interplay between the tentacle plant and the kobold exemplifies nature's intricate web of survival strategies. It serves as a reminder that, in the natural world, every organism seeks its own path to existence, employing remarkable adaptations that both awe and challenge our understanding."
"I can SEE it tunneling through the testicle, Charn! Is this thing going to eat my hand?"
"No, Max. Your hand is not interesting to this plant at all. Think of your hand as the testicles 'scrotum'. Once the tentacle is rubbing against that, all that means is it's devoured its meal. Oh, look, here we go."
The tentacle had prodded its way up through the wall of the testicle, bulging it outwards before puncturing it from within. It briefly pushed out into the open air, its pseudopod unfurling to reveal a glistening, cum-clotted 'mouth' of four distinct tenta-petals, each leading into a pitcher throat with small, wiggling hairs. A chunk of testicle was being pushed and wiggled down that throat, before the tentacle folded over it, encapsulating it and sending it back up the ruined, ruptured vas deferens.
"By the time its little morsels get back to the kobold's groin, these are liquified, and if you look here," Charn said, pointing to the stem of the plant that was jutting out of the portal. "There's just a slurry coming out, just liquified protein. It's great at that, some of the best 'sperm extraction' we've seen. You can't really tell from here, but everything other than the cum has been completely reduced to lipids, sugars and proteins.
The inside of the testicle was now a mass of gently squiggling green curves folding over and overlapping each other. It had wound and twisted through the inside of the shiny kobold testicle, devouring every scrap of nut it could find, and Max held the squirming, hollowed out shell carefully between two hands. 
And then, he pressed his thumbs together against the top of the shell, and pulled them apart. The testicle, or what hollow remnants there was of it, split apart, and the green tentacle untangled itself. The worm-like thing was slimy, plump, and helpless as it dangled in the air.
"What do you think?"  Charn asked, sitting back now and watching as the folf examined the freshly emboldened tentacle. "You don't have to worry about it going after your balls. Even if they were connected, I doubt they would have enough of a residue for it to pick up."
"Rude," Max said, letting coils of the tentacle slide loose off his fingers, until he was just holding the wiggling, gaping, twisting 'mouth' between his fingers. He held his breath and dragged it over to the other testicle. "I just want to see what it-"
It latched onto the side of the testicle, hungry, and Max could just make out the tiny 'fangs' that extended, growing from the tentacle into the side of the nut's shell. 
The tentacle collapsed then, accordioning inwards on itself, crinkling as it collapsed up against the side of the ball like a crushed straw wrapper. It looked like it was trying to cram itself into the testicle, but it just wasn't able to break through the shell. 
Then, it tugged backwards. It filled itself up like a bellows, popping the testicle open and with a wet slurping sound, chunks of inner nut meat were violently sucked free, drawn through the small hole and into the emboldened tentacle itself. The chunks dissolved, almost immediately as the tentacle clamped back down, crushing itself against the testicle, and then drew backwards, sump-pumping more tissue out from deep within the trapped kobold testicle.
"Look at how efficient that is. I mean for all the pomp and circumstance of the first testicle, it's really cracking into this one, hard and fast. I think that, evolutionarily, it's because most males will have at least one testicle, but they won't automatically have two. So a second nut is like a bonus. A treat, as it were. Wow, that's a solid plug!"
Indeed, a three inch long core of the inner testicle had come loose, gleaming and pale as it was sheathed immediately into the tentacle itself. It broke down into curd-like lumps, disintegrating as it was sucked away. Max gently squeezed the testicle, and found that it collapsed easily, that as he collapsed it between his fingers it did not rebound back to a normal shape. 
In a matter of minutes, the ball was completely disintegrated, its innards completely emptied out, now nothing more than a soft, floppy bit of rubbery membrane. The tentacle began 'gulping' its way up the cords, chewing and dissolving its way towards the portal again, but Charn reached over and sliced a claw through the remaining tissues. The tentacle, having nothing left to reach for, began to withdraw, heavy pulses drawing it back up through the portal and out through the portal that it had come from. 
"So why did you want to show me this?" Max asked, watching as the tentacle retreated.
"Just hold the portal ring for a second," Charn said, and as the folf did that, he slashed his hand through the root of it, just above where it emerged from the kobold's slit, where the penis had used to jut for all of two minutes before being digested away. 
"What are you-" But Charn had grasped the 'head' of the tentacle and tugged, hard and fast, drawing the tentacle out through the kobold's groin with the speed at which someone would start a lawn mower. The base of it, severed, leaked green jelly against Max's wrist before zipping up into the portal ring - and then sliding back out the other end, where the vas deferens had once been. 
"Gotcha," Charn said, and ran back to the picnic basket with the flailing, twisting, severed tentacle. Max got up, glancing back at the spot on the earth where the plant's stem was retreating back into the ground, wounded but still very much alive, and decided to follow Charn. He had no idea how big those tentacle things could get... or how many of them there were in an organism.
"Sorry about the abruptness," Charn explained, as he put the tentacle into an empty jar and twisted the leg on it closed. "I had to, for the kobold's sake. The way these things reproduce is, once they're done eating, they'll plant their seeds, their 'progeny' up inside the victim, in its prostate. In a couple weeks, the kobold would feel his testicles regrowing. That is actually the tentacle plant, forcing a quick regeneration. You'd think that would be great, but, the first couple ejaculations that the guy has after his new testicles are finished maturing, they're all just THOSE guys. Spores. They wiggle into the ground and take root, and in a couple weeks, they're waiting for someone ELSE to come by and jack off, so they can start the whole cycle over again."
"It's genius," Max said, as he put the pieces together. "Guys like to jack off in private, so they're 'seeding' the ground in an area that is perfect for these things to lay in wait. Wow."
"Wow, indeed. I am still going to use this at the lab - the eggs this thing is going to 'lay' will be in one of our dummy hosts, so that we can see what 'synth kobold cum' is going to work like. The cum that these things make is almost universally 'mostly' sterile, but sometimes we have, ah. Interesting... cross breeds."
"Sounds horrifying. Imagine knocking up your wife and it's actually a tentacle monster that she gives birth to."
"They're not monsters, Max. They're living organisms, just like you and me."
"Well, they're certainly not like ME, I have bones," Max confided. Charn sighed. 
"So you do. And one of them is in that picnic basket. Don't give me a reason to 'accidentally' put it in the tentacle jar."
Max eeped. 
And that was how the day off went! The folf and tiger recollected the ravel's infected testicles and brought the basket back to their lab. The tentacle was given to the labs to investigate, and the ravel portal was put into a hypobaric chamber, to keep it climate controlled and under full supervision. It would be watched closely, weighed, washed, and sprayed with moisturizer, as the brood of worms inside it swelled and gestated and got hungrier and hungrier. 
Max was happy; he had gotten to see things he had never heard of, could not conceive of, and hadn't gotten castrated or de-dicked or vored along the way. And Charn was happy, because he got to say hello to a family member he hadn't seen in a long, long time. 
But that's a story for another time.