Dripping wet and soaked in what was both sticky and warm. The deer and buck twitched lightly within their oppressive confines, struck between the sheer pleasure they experienced at just the slightest touch when that spittle running down their shared form heightened every sensation, the desire to dry off so that they weren’t quite as wet, and begging this sheep to shove them back into her mouth. The cold was such a drastic change between her body heat and the room temperature after all.

Earlier this morning both husband and wife had complete and ordinary bodies of their own, but circumstance and mischief all conspired to merge them into the flesh of a mailman’s penis. The doe found her lips had taken up the role of a cockslit, tasting every bit of saliva that oozed between the crack, while her husband the doe had his face on the opposite end. Getting a constant flavor of horse semen lapping over his form, gushing down what felt very much as if it were still a throat. 

The outside of that cock was still very much the flesh of a horse, and while the two people inside could manage sensation and twitches with their bodies stretched and merged, melted together, and forming the thin inner tube, movement and erection was still very much within the mailman’s control. And that stallion was still feeling every bit of exposure this member experienced. 

Which of course leads back to the crux of this scenario. 

The snip of her very special scissors for emphasis, the wet smack of her lips as she runs a tongue over the various flavors still lingering in her jaws. A short, stocky sheepgirl with bright poofy fluff had absolutely nothing stopping her from examining the dismembered shaft in her hands. The balls dangling with smooth flesh down one end and the slit opening on the other. The mailman this cock belonged too off to finish the rest of his rounds, presumably having a hard time keeping his face strait. 

But the sheep had no way to monitor this and no reason to restrain herself from playing around. She didn’t even have certainty that this cock was actually two people melted into one, simply noting the oddity of horn tattoos on both the bottom of the tip, and the base of the ballsack. It could easily just be a regular tattoo, or some deer horns that were squashed and flattened until they merged into the skin. 

Floppy and long while only half erect, as the sheep padded back to her bedroom she fiddles with the squishy lumps. Her thumb pressing down over the shaft, her hands cupping the balls until furry wrinkled flesh starts popping between her fingers. Gingerly she breathes into the slit itself, unwitting giving the doe a faint look at the rounded and poofy little face, or the open jaws and waiting tongue. 

A dainty lick is offered. She’s never tasted deer before, but she does know that while predominantly horse musk it still had a bit of something else tinting the experience. The sheep doesn’t seem to mind.

Her lips purse into a gaping round slit, slowly she insets the tip of that twitchy little cockshaft inside until it was resting on her tongue. She suckles, kissing noisily and sloppily, while her tongue forces its way into the shaft as some mockery of a French kiss. Her eyes flutter and she notices just how delightfully stretchy that girthy member was. 

Stretchy enough … to fit things inside. Things like her tongue. 

The doe, cast once more into a sweltering wet darkness and forced to wrap her much too small lips around another woman’s tongue, soon felt it stab past her mouth. Down the throat. Bulging her ‘face’ to either side and stretching her whole body wide and taut. She was presently relegated to just a thin tube surrounded by cockflesh, but parts of her body still felt identifiably hers. The tongue wriggling through her chest. Her stomach bulging and the sense of absolute fullness, while the base of this sheep’s tongue widens her jawline. 

A thin pink slit on one near the entrance with a urethra being pulled open impossibly wide, and yet this sheep still went deeper. The tip of her tongue could be felt lapping against the inside of a doe’s butt, spearing her from end to end while she couldn’t move to avoid this in the slightest. Warmth and sloppy spittle soaking the outside and now lathering her from within, making sure every single centimeter of her existence was covered in sheep spit. 

For the buck, going in this completely blind and entirely mute, with the doe’s lips feeling like it was his anus, the shock and surprise of having his backside spread open and a wormlike muscle ease its way through him was both welcome and alarming. He could feel it welling up within the bowels, he could tell when it fills his stomach and pushes past the chest. If he still had a throat and not just a urethral tube he would have gagged once this sheep’s tongue shoved its way into the mouth. 

But then it just goes beyond, lapping into the pools of welling cum, twisting left and right. 

The sheep outside just got a bit more of this delightfully strange flavor, reaching her bedroom and turning on the light. Her cheeks bulged as she walks over to the nearby drawer, her face aglow in a full body mirror. She opens a set of tightly sealed jaws, and to all the world it looks as if her tongue is wearing a sock. 

Pulled so taut the cockshaft might as well have been a second skin, flexing and bending as she moves it about. The sheep frowns at how those lumpy balls just dangle off the tip, and like pulling on a pair of pants she grips one end and shoves it further in until even those were skintight with her daintly little licks. The cock deformed and stretched until it perfectly matched the shape of her tongue, and now every minute was a burst of that welling flavor of musk and horse cum. 

She licks the inside of her cheek, a tad thoughtful. 

A part of her debates absorbing the cock into her tongue, making sure that poor mailman feels every sensual movement of her tongue. She wasn’t a cat nor anywhere near as flexible, she couldn’t quite lean her head between her legs to lick herself, but there were other things she could lick. The back of her teeth, feeling how warm this flesh wrapped up tight around her was. A cold ice pop or maybe some ice cream, that would give him something to talk about when the horse gets back. 

If she were really lucky she could find another man to suck off, or a woman to eat out. True gender was a touch more fluid around these parts and either gender could have either set of bits, even both …

But she wanted to play /now/ and she didn’t have anyone else to apply an all new tongue too, nor to show off the horn tattoos she could get upon merging with the dislocated cockshaft. 

A heavy sigh. Ideas to save for another time. She made a mental note to try and convince that mailman to let her keep this penis, if she used the right tone and whispered sweetly into his ear all while showing just how good she could make the cock feel, he might well agree to such an arrangement. 

Cloven hooves pinch at the tip of her tongue, biting down just painfully enough to be noticed in the gooey wet flesh between two stretched balls. Her breath warm and musty against her hand, those stiff fingers sloooowwwllly dragged the cock out. 

Like a magician pulling out a string of tablecloths, that stiff and wibbly rod came off her tongue in a easy draw. The flavor receeding, the balls all but bounced back into place once her tongue wasn’t stretching it out, and in the mirror she could see it coming off like a thin nylon. 

She had to giggle at that. Pursing her lips around the ends, making sure to suck in forcefully as if this were a kiss, all while the base of her tongue stretches the urethra. 

Plop.

It comes off her tongue, but she keeps the tip inside her jaws to suckle, to play with, savoring every last touch of the now slick mass. 

“Aaahhh!” it was with a wet smack of her lips at the slit finally comes out, and our doe girl gets a brief view of their environment. Both deer can still taste the drool soaked through their insides, can feel the wetness dripping off the outer skin. A happy little sheep with one hand on her chest and another holding the rod by it’s ballsack, a long tongue lulling out with a sparkly blush against her cheeks.

The doe tries to speak. 

It doesn’t look like much, the urethral slit, her mouth, opens a tiny bit wider and then closes another fraction of an inch. The whole cock twitches from base to tip, a pulsing jerk that seems to ripple from somewhere in the middle. They were defiantly hard at this point, even awkwardly trying to spit out sheep slobber and failing for obvious reasons, though the husband had even less luck considering where his mouth was merged to. 

The sheep doesn’t notice, nor does she talk back to it. The mailman wouldn’t hear anything and this was just her toy for the forseeable future. 

Her free hand slides down to the hem of her skirt. A slight tug on the edge, poofy locks of floof explode out the moment her clothes aren’t surprising it. She sits back onto her bed and gazes at herself in the mirror, watching the panties reveal themselves and the skirt sliding down to her toes. 

The rump and thighs had no fur around them beyond the tail, shaved off for ease of use. A clean shaven pussy, a plump bundle of asscheek, and when she spread her legs wide she could almost watch her panties disappear into the folds. 

With delicate care, those come off too, the doe girl getting her first full body glimpse of just what this plump woman looked like. Various tattoos adorned her skin near the thighs, a pair of eyes on the inner section, what looked like the faint outline of a face on the rump, surrounding her vagina one could just barely make out the impression of a person’s open mouth. As if the sheep’s cunt has once been someone’s maw and was now serving an all new purpose. 

Lower.

Heat, welling up from those two thighs like a sauna, the spittle starting to dry in places and slick the sheep’s dark skin. The cock found itself placed, tip first, directly between those legs. Easing the wiggly twitching cock into her loins in a way that almost seemed to tease. 

In truth most of her pudge came from other lovers she’s absorbed. Either in part or in whole, she adored knowing they were there, the giddy tingle she gets whenever they’re forced to experience her sexual adventures. Not fat, the sheep never did gather so many at once as to end up looking obese, but the collection served to grant her a very healthy give to any part one touched. With fleece like hers she’d never look thin, therefore better to try her hand at being soft. 

The doe, the buck, and the horse all got to feel the results of her efforts in a distressingly intimate fashion. Meaty thighs ease shut around the sides of a very stiff cockshaft, each one feeling like the warm embrace of two pillows. The fold and contort, the skin flexing round them to smother the cock away, the balls hidden between lumps of thigh fat and only the tip reveled, peaking up around the sheep’s naval. 

A jiggle runs through the sheep’s body, a bouncing laugh. She steps up just slightly and scoots forward until her rump is directly over the cocktip, then geeenntly settles her weight down onto the cock. Flattening it into the mattress, smothering between soft sheets and an even softer rump. Her anus spreads over the plumed tip and her pussy leaks, ever so slightly, onto the pulsing shaft. 

Some of the moisture was spit, now being cleaned off in a way no party involved felt was unwelcome. Increasingly more of it was femcum, seeping out of the slit folds and oozing over that horsecock. 

It was all too sudden to then feel a harsh pinch at the balls, her cloven hooves latching onto a sack of flesh and puuuullling it free. She didn’t sit up to make it easier, nononono, she wanted to make sure this cock felt the full pressure of her body and the smooth comfort of her bedsheets as it was dragged out. Juxtaposed by the sharp pain right at the base. 

A wiggle of her hips to smear her rump all over the shaft, sweat dripping from her body and horselike musk seeping into her skin. It was only when the tip, when our Doegirl’s mouth was directly over the sheep’s pussy, that she stopped pulling. With a spread of her legs the doe felt light filter in from above, felt the harsh grasp of hooves on either side of her length, and was just as quickly plunged into darkness.

Fish and honey, sweetness and a smooth wet as if tucked away inside a sleeping bag made of velvet that someone had filled with warm pudding. The tiny restrained wife could taste it, dripping into her slit and mixing, merging with the strong flavors of horse cum to make an oddly sweet tang that reeked of lust and sex. This fleshy dildo was inserted deeper, the tender walls of her pussy wrapping around that shaft in an oppressively tight embrace. Firmer than the sheep’s mouth by several degrees, though only about as much pressure as being sat on.

At least, until the sheep clenched.

The resulting moans were thunderous and muffled, as if hearing the sky itself attempt to make love in a thunderstorm while you hide behind blankets and earmuffs. Deeper, deeper, up to the balls with a forceful thrust! Wet and hot and ohgosh this was so much hotter than ever before. Even being trapped inside a mailman’s pants wasn’t this swelteringly intense, humid and constricting with constant pressure and even more direct movements. 

There was no sight and no warning whenever something shifted, no control and no resistance. As a cock they were simply toys to be played with, and they felt every single touch as if it was their whole body. The flavors, the smells, the glimpse of slicked light that almost flickered in from behind. 

Another pinch at the base, a tug to pull them back out juuuust enough, the doe feeling her face and lips brought to the very edge. As if vaginal walls were now smothering her cheeks and the drops of femcum spilled into her toothless ‘jaws’ … but the cock was hard. The entire shaft was solid. And just as all parties involved had expected, the sheep rammed them back in. Blunt and with speed, slicked and easy, the shaft slides in with the only resistance being how tight the walls were and how large this cock was. Fleshy plumes around the side scooped up femcum on the way out and dripped them onto the bedsheets, which the sheepgirl ignored completely for another thrust.

In and out.

In and fast and out and faster and again and ohgoshwow and SQUEAL! 

She was breathing hard and labored, her loins suffered that delightfully distracting tingle, her knees were weak to the point she doubted it was possible to walk at the moment. Brief and intense and wonderful self satisfaction that all ends with a tight …

Splrt! 

It was tiny by comparison, a violent ejection as the sheep is brought to orgasm and the spray smatters against a doegirl’s cockface. The husband barely had any clue what was happening beyond the moans and the heat, but no one bothered to explain matters, and the lapping cum he was tasting hardly built up enough to spurt free. 

They all felt a heavy flop. The sheep had spread her legs and thrown herself backward, naked and sprawling on the well made bed. She hadn’t taken her dildo out and was seriously debating the merits of doing so at all. Basking in the afterglow of her own orgasm, short and sweet and not too exhausting, she wonders if she could just absorb it now. Make this into a part of her pussy, and leave the previous victim buried beneath freshly absorbed cockflesh. To constantly feel as if he were full at all times, even while the vagina spreads and other things enter.

Seems a bit of a waste to her though.

She lays there, relaxing. Feeling the cock inside her … twitch. Weakly, assertively, as if trying to move against her powerful muscles and getting more frustrated when nothing happens. That brings a smile to her face, trying to imagine the poor mailman flexing his cock during the middle of his rounds and always feeling a pussy on the end of it. For every single step. 

The sheep starts to sit up, squeezing against the shaft with her very movement. Hands swing down to cup the freely hanging balls, holding everything in place as she thumps to the floor. 

A step forward, more of a waddle really, before pulling her hands back and clenching. Grinning to herself in satisfaction when the horsecock stays in place, and she can still feel it twitching. 

Hrmm, her underwear. She grabs it, sways up on one leg while raising the other, and all too hurredly slips the panties back on. Up they slide, easing between her legs and mashing against the back of that sack, pulling her panties up tight so that the cock is held firmly.

“Ooohh, I could get used to this.” A sultry smirk. Now, her arms off to one side, she waltzes to her dresser for some tight pants. The tightest fucking pants she owns. No, shorts! And then she can put a skirt on around them. 

The left thigh swings forward and the walls of that pussy slide against the shaft. Then her right leg, as the other pulls back. Each swaying motion accompanied by a velvety rub, always moving too fast to get used to. 

Movement impossible, speaking even harder, hearing through the increasingly muffled realm of this sheep’s loins was an exercise in sensory deprivation, all while taste and smell and touch were overwhelming. 

The sheep doesn’t seem to care.

Her cut-off jeans were one size too small and seemed to catch against her fleece, but once past the hair her booty has more than enough give to accommodate. The pudgy flesh squashing aside, spilling out the top and bottom of those pants while her loins look thinner. A sashay in place, feeling that warm, gentle rush of pleasure every minor bit of motion gives. Relishing the sadistic knowledge that her boy toy wasn’t going to have a say in the treatment of this cock for the rest of the day, giving her plenty of opportunities to try neat little things. 

Hrmm. 

She has to show off. 

A wiggle of her hips with side thrusts to make sure it was all firmly tucked away, a hop over to grab her bra and skirt. The clothing easily slides back on until her breasts are held together and a pink jacket is wrapped all around, a thin wide rimmed skirt flowing with her steps. 

The cock twitches. Oh that was so very pleasant when she walked, like feeing it massage deep into her loins, a warm vibrator made of a stressball that just so happened to move on its own accord. 

Once she was all dolled up she didn’t show the slightest sign of her little playtoy tucked away between her legs, the pussy stuffed and a grin on her face. She had neighbors …

And now was time to make a call.