Chapter 2

Cockzilla tugged a little on his tie, uncomfortable in the constricting feel of his business uniform. Though he was ostensibly a bouncer, he was still required to wear the same uniform as his co-workers. As he was by far the largest of the staff, his uniform had to be custommade, and even then the tailor had been stingy with the cloth, making it bend and stretch against Cockzilla’s massive musculature every time he walked. He was always cautious when bending down or stretching his arms, lest he burst out of his shirt like some enraged superhero. To cap it all off, he only had one suit, forcing him to waste time every evening dry cleaning and ironing it. At least he got a replacement every few months, when it succumbed to wear and stains.

Cockzilla sighed as he stood in front of the bar, waiting for his shift to begin. The bar didn’t open until six, but Cockzilla was required to be there promptly at four in the afternoon, both to help in setting the place up and to help manage the line of middle-aged alcoholic women who began to queue up outside the door as opening time approached. Cockzilla’s employer, the Grand Stallion Hotel, specifically catered to middle and older aged women looking for a thrill, and as such Cockzilla’s day was filled with MILFs and cougars (bother literal and figurative) who were out for some young cock. At least Cockzilla got plenty of “on the job training,” so to speak, and his meager salary was greatly outclassed by the “tips” he earned by offering the females “private massages” in their hotel rooms. Even though he had only been employed since his 18th birthday, he had already built up a semi-regular clientele, with several females specifically requesting that he be their “personal guide” when they came to visit.

Still, Cockzilla was in the mood for young blood, and after spending a night with Fraga the sagging tits and worn features of many of the women depressed him. Almost all of these women were deep in the midst of their mid-life crises, and while it was fun to play into their fantasies, it certainly wasn’t satisfying. It didn’t help that most of them had small tits and faces that contained more makeup and plastic than they did actual skin. He wished that the sun would hurry up and set so that his eyes would be shielded from a lot of the flaws. He always needed a few drinks to get himself talking to them, and a few drinks more before he was willing to go back to their room.

The bar was already set up and ready to go, and the queue had not yet begun to form, so Cockzilla was left with nothing to do but stand at attention and wait. He wanted to pull out his phone and start sending around text messages, possibly even check his info page for new comments, but the manager had a strict no phone policy. Every time they came into work, they had to check their phones with the desk. A few of the guys had outsmarted this for awhile by having them “check” a junk phone they’d fished out of the garbage, but even Cockzilla had given in when one of the cooks was put out on the street without his paycheck. Still, without so much as the ability to play virtual poker, Cockzilla was desperate for someone to talk to, and he considered luring over some of the ladies from the hallway or casino simply so he’d have someone to talk to.

Cockzilla sighed with relief when his friend Heref came up to him. He could tell from the big smile on the rat’s face that everything was okay, and the manager was probably passed out drunk in his office or masturbating to Internet porn. Heref was true to his species and was only too happy to broadcast the location and habits of the boss, even going so far as to text them to the staff before the no phone policy was implemented. Heref was the Minister of Information as far as things at the Grand Stallion were concerned, his skill with the computers and the security system enabling him to keep an eye on almost everything at once. “Hey, you remember those DVDs I bought for you from one of the street corner guys?” said Heref. In addition to spying, Heref was equally talented at smuggling, sneaking in everything from counterfeit purses to stolen electronics to what might politely be called “recreational pharmaceuticals.” Recently he had been “bribing” Cockzilla to look the other way when he sold counterfeit watches in the bar at night with porno DVDs, giving Cockzilla oodles of material to study for his future career.

“The ones with that penguin and the dragon lady?” said Cockzilla. “Fuck yeah I remember, they were hot. I didn’t much care for that polar bear guy though, I could fuck better than him any day of the week.” Cockzilla was already smug about his ability to out-act Norris Pole, a massively well-endowed polar bear who claimed to have a fourteen inch cock, although Cockzilla put it closer to twelve or even eleven when compared with his own. Still, he did a good job serving as a stunt cock for Nekkie and Henna, the penguin and “dragon” respectively.

“Yeah well it turns out the ‘dragon lady’ is actually a snake, specifically a cobra, named Henna Hood,” said Heref. “Not only that, she’s forty two years old, holds a US passport issued in Los Angeles, and has a credit card that expires in August of this year.” Cockzilla chuckled a bit, raising his eyebrow.

“Impressive, but I’m not dumb enough to buy credit card numbers off you,” said Cockzilla. Heref had previously traded in stolen credit cards, but by the time he managed to have them sold and distributed, the owners had already discovered their absence and canceled them. “Why would I care about that sort of info?”

“Because I didn’t get it by stealing her credit card, I got it by checking her in,” said Heref. He grinned and leaned on the wall next to Cockzilla, his face twisted with smugness. He was handsome for his species, and had the ability to look trustworthy, and had Cockzilla not known better even now he wouldn’t suspect Heref’s skill at stealing from the tourists. “In fact, she’s in room 302 right now, unpacking her bags. I was supposed to assign Kajul, that new Arabian Stallion guy, to be her ‘personal attendant’ but I could make a mistake, if given a suitable gift.” Cockzilla grinned, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a thick roll of bills. He peeled off a couple hundreds and offered them to Heref, but he turned up his nose. “Fuck that shit, you know I only take Euros and Yuan. A dollar isn’t a dollar anymore.” Cockzilla sighed and peeled off two hundred Euro notes instead, mentally grumbling about how the Euro was worth so much more now. What with so many people from so many countries coming and going and paying him in so many currencies, he was never sure how much money he had, exactly, only that he was much better off than the boys who hauled luggage or served dinner.

“It better be fucking worth it,” said Cockzilla. “And you’d better cover my ass for the bouncing, too. In fact, here,” he stuffed another bull in Heref’s hand, a $50 American one. “Give this to Kajul. That dumbass doesn’t know what money’s worth, and he’ll bounce every bit as well as I do. Just tell the boss that you made a mistake on the assignment chart, if he’s awake enough to care.”

“You know damn well it’s worth it,” said Heref, stuffing the bills into his jacket. “That bitch is loaded, you can tell by the subdued jewelry and name-brand clothes. No gaudy trinkets here, she is a straight-up rich bitch who’s been in the money for awhile.”

“Good, because I need a fucking break, you crook.” His words were harsh, but his face was kind, and he knew that Heref was really doing him a big favor. He could easily make in a single evening more than he’d paid to Heref, and if Henna stayed for a whole week, he could finally earn enough to pay off his gambling and credit card debts and maybe even fly to America. He had been secretly packing and preparing for weeks and it was now only a matter of time before he bought a plane ticket and never came back.

Room 302 was on floor 3 all right, but it was also in building 3, which was exclusively for reptiles. The air conditioning was turned off and the windows were particularly prevalent, and in his suit and tie Cockzilla was positively sweltering. He moved quickly to the utility closet, helping himself to a massage table and several cups of water from the water cooler. He’d need to stay hydrated if he was going to make it through this, and his massive frame wasn’t exactly built for comfort in hot, cramped quarters.

Before leaving he checked himself in the mirror and gargled a little mouthwash, doing his best to erase the taste of cigar smoke. His endemic bad breath, the plague of all komodos, was too strong for the mouthwash, but he didn’t care. If anything it just seemed to make him more alluring and dangerous to reptile girls, who were both repulsed and entranced by the intensity and exoticness he exuded. He began pushing the massage table towards room 302 and knocked on the door, hoping she would answer, and soon.

Cockzilla put on his biggest fake smile at first, but it turned to a genuine one as soon as Henna opened the door. Clad only in a bathrobe, which wasn’t even tied, he could see that she was one hot reptile bitch, with curves in all the right places. Her scales glistened in the intense sunlight, and despite her age, her skin was fresh and taut, the consequence of a lifetime of molting and regrowing. Her breasts were hanging out on prominent display, both showing off their massive size and the fact that she had absolutely no desire to hide her intentions. Cockzilla could tell that her breasts were natural, and he had never seen ones so massive and perfect on a reptile girl of any species. His eyes traced up and down her a bit, checking out her hips and glancing over her perfect sex, already puffed with eagerness and ready for action.

They stared at one another for a few more moments before Henna giggled and raised her eyebrow, leaning on the frame of the door a bit and staring up at Cockzilla. “Well, did you want something, or are you just going to stare all day?” she asked. “You know, I’ve been in pictures. If you want something to stare at, I could give you some centerfolds.”

Cockzilla shook his head, his professionalism and training bringing him back down to reality. “Sorry ma’am, I’m just not used to customers of your…stature,” he said. “You requested our complimentary massage at the front desk, did you not?”

“Mmm, I suppose I am better looking than most of the old crones in the foyer, aren’t I?” said Henna, giggling again. As she laughed, her tits bounced wildly, and Cockzilla felt himself salivating. He couldn’t believe that things were just dropping into his hands like this. Not only would he get to fuck a porn star, with any luck he’d be able to hop a ride back to LA with her, credit cards and gambling debt be damned. He began to daydream about how she would open up the industry to him, how his physique would be on every billboard and television ad in the West Coast, and how he’d have more pussy thrown at him than a stranded sailor on an island of nymphomaniac amazons. “Oh and yes, I did request the complementary massage, which is why I undressed. Come on in, and lock the door behind you.

Room 302 was a deluxe suite with a massive bed and a huge picture window that opened out to the private beach and the ocean beyond. Much to Cockzilla’s relief, she had opened it completely, allowing a stiff sea breeze to blow through it, cooling Cockzilla down to a much more reasonable temperature. It was still very hot in the room, but now it was a comfortable level of heat, the sort that gave him and all other reptiles a great excess of energy. He laid out the table in the middle of the room and gestured for Henna to lay down on it. She removed her bathrobe, grinning at him a bit and striking a pose before lying belly-down on the massage table.

“May I interest you in some essential oils?” he said, gently rubbing her back with his massive hands. Though outwardly she looked quite relaxed, her back was a mass of knotted muscles and tension, making clear why she had hopped on a plane and flown half a world away just to get laid.

“I suppose so, if they’re essential,” said Henna, playing on the double meaning of the word. Cockzilla chuckled at the pun and began working coconut oil into her scales, digging his powerful fingers in deep as he massaged her back. She moaned loudly, the massage table creaking under the force of Cockzilla’s arms. “Mind if I smoke?” said Henna, reaching towards a pack of cigarettes that was on the dresser in front of her. Cockzilla grabbed her the pack, flipped one out, and as soon as she had taken it in her mouth he held his lighter to it, allowing her to get a flame without so much as lifting a finger.

“I’d like to as well, if you don’t mind,” said Cockzilla, producing one of the massive cigars from the interior of his jacket, lighting it with a flourish and blowing a smoke ring in Henna's face. Henna grinned a bit, raising an eyebrow.

“I hope that isn’t compensating for anything,” she said, grinning. “By the way, my name is Henna Hood, what’s yours?”

“You can call me Cockzilla,” said the Komodo, grinning and leaning over the table a bit.

He was only just beginning to harden, his enormous shaft still fed down the leg of his pants in order to give it room. 14Henna grinned and hissed with interest, whipping and wagging her tail a bit. “I’m sorry, but with a name like that I’ll need to see proof of ID,” said Henna. She smiled up at him, putting her elbows on the table and her chin in her palms. Cockzilla grinned and moved in front of her, undoing his belt and unzipping his pants, then reaching in and fishing out his enormous length. Henna was lightly bemused at first, but then her jaw dropped so low her cigarette fell to the floor, forcing Cockzilla to lightly crush it beneath his shoe before it singed the carpet. “Holy FUCK! I knew Komodos were big, but god DAMN! Have you ever considered a career in porno?”

“Of course I have,” said Cockzilla, grinning as he slowly pulled his pants and boxers down to his thighs. “Why else would I have been assigned to your room, Ms. Hood? I have all of your films, you know. I’m your biggest fan.”

“Well you certainly are in one sense of the word,” said Henna. She licked at her lips with her long forked tongue, reaching forward to grab and massage the enormous length in front of her. She was clearly a bit of a size queen, the way she eyed and fondled his length, but she was all too ready to take him in any hole she wanted. He had seen as much in her films, after all. “Well don’t get any ideas in your head about me being here on a recruitment drive. But I would like to take it for a test drive, so to speak.”

Cockzilla hissed with excitement and began carefully taking off his suit, hanging it up gingerly in the room’s closet before going back to the bed. It was massive and circular, and by the time Cockzilla got back to the bed, Henna had already crawled up on it and was curling her finger in invitation. He walked over to her, grabbing his shaft and rubbing it furiously in anticipation. Despite it’s immense size he had no trouble getting hard, and by the time he lay down on the bed he was already rock hard. Henna grabbed it and slurped it into her mouth, hissing with delight as she began to work it with her forked tongue. She turned around and mounted Cockzilla, curling back her tail and presenting her sex as he began to gently fondle and probe with his fingers.

Cockzilla and Henna worked on one another, hissing and moaning with delight as they each tried to outdo one another. Henna had experience, but Cockzilla had youth, and each one was able to match the other in terms of talent and speed. Cockzilla held back his strength in reserve, waiting for his moment to strike, but Henna was almost all force and bluster. She brought her assault down hard on the youth, testing him with the full strength of her lips and tongue. Cockzilla hadn’t experienced anything like it for quite some time, but years of preparation allowed him to weather it surprisingly well. He suspected she was holding out on him, trying to lull him into a false sense of security by playing it soft for now.

Cockzilla’s suspicions were confirmed with Henna suddenly turned herself around, rubbing her sloppy slit against his enormous shaft and hissing with delight. She grinned at him widely; daring him to take the initiative, but he just brought his hands up to her chest, refusing to take the bait. He knew she was trying to prove his naïveté, But what she didn’t know is that many a female had tried to best themselves on the young buck, and he had grown wise to their tricks and traps. He forced Henna to make the next move, bringing in his tongue to kiss and his hands to grope but leaving his shaft to throb out in the hot air.

Henna descended slowly, sliding herself backwards and gripping his length in her hand. She whimpered, gasping as she adjusted to his girth. Clearly she had been out of practice for awhile, as her sex was decidedly tight, although looser than his more typical customers were. She was most certainly getting it from time to time, possibly from her employees, but certainly not from anyone with Cockzilla’s strength and experience. As she began to slide down, he jammed his hips in suddenly, causing her to gasp. Her eyes grew wide in surprise as he jammed her with inch after inch, stopping only centimeters before hitting bottom. He grinned at her, teasing her nostrils with the very tips of his tongue. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty more where that came from,” he said.

Henna was not about to be shown up so easily and began pounding herself on him hard, squeezing down with all her might and working her tits hard in his face, trying to either woo him or force him with the strength and beauty of her body. Though his resistance was certainly wearing down, he was able to withstand her better than most men, and even as she milked him hard he did not give in.

Henna’s age began to show as she quickly tired, her body winding down as she pounded herself on him as hard as she could. Like the predator he was, Cockzilla sprung into action, shoving and bucking and fucking her from beneath as hard as he could. Henna began to moan, her tits bouncing around wildly as he gave her no mercy. She hissed, she moaned, she writhed, and as soon as she caught her second wind Cockzilla picked her up bodily, sliding her off his shaft with a sloppy wet “pop.”

He laid her down on her back and then got over her, spreading her legs wide enough to accommodate his enormous hips. He towered over her, several inches taller and almost twice as broad, hissing with power as he pressed his length deep into her sex. He lunged into her, pounding away on her as hard as he dared, his long tongue lashing out to tickle her nose and cheeks. His hand came down to work her clit between his thick digits as he pounded her mercilessly, making the bed squeak and bounce with the force of each impact.

It was too much for any female to take, even the talented and experienced Henna. She came like a tidal wave, gushing across Cockzilla’s length as she arched her back and writhed wildly on the bed. Even as she came down from her orgasm she was still tingling, and every caress from Cockzilla’s fingers sent shivers up and down her spine.

Cockzilla pulled out slowly, grinning and licking his lips as he rubbed himself furiously. His orgasm was a low rumbling, and he controlled it carefully, hardly grunting as his shaft erupted across Henna, painting long white lines across her chest. As she lay there panting he was filled with a sense of satisfaction. It was just that easy, whether because he was just that good, or she was just a pushover. Either way he had conquered her, and despite her power and position she had given in to him as easily as did Fraga and all the other girls. She might resist him for now, but he was definitely going to bowl her over, he just had to keep applying pressure. She was weak, putty in his palms like every other female. By the time she went home, she’d be begging to give him a new career, He drew a long, hard draft on his cigar and grinned. It was all going so perfectly.