Title: at least one person likes this Author: Anonymous Pastebin link: http://pastebin.com/bJ8JxYLh First Edit: Thursday 3rd of September 2015 10:15:06 AM CDT Last Edit: Thursday 3rd of September 2015 10:15:06 AM CDT A quick rap on the door is all the warning Harshwhinny had before it creaks open. "Excuse me, ma'am," the girl in the doorway pipes up, "but you're on stage in five minutes." Harshwhinny peeks behind her, shifting slightly in her seat to face the green room mirror and away from the assistant. Harshwhinny gives her a long, appraising stare. The woman that stands in the doorway is attractive in a modest way, with short bobbed hair and barely any makeup. Her smile is small, but not forced like some of the help here.   Harshwhinny smiles back. "Thank you, but," she interjects as the girl turns away, "I believe I need some assistance in here." Her arms press innocently on either side of her famously gifted bust, the dress suit complaining softly at the stretch.   "Of course. Anything for such an exclusive speaker." Before everything, the staff had been notified of Harshwhinny would only work on her terms. The door clunks shut. Now that she's in here, hints of something she hadn't noticed before become apparent. There were soft wet sounds, like mixing a bowl of pudding. Queer, thick scents wafted across the tiny green room: not perfume, not sweat, but something that teetered on both. It might have been anxiety that forced her heart to thump in her ears, but the girl breathed deep. This is an honor to even meet her. "What can I help you with today, ma'am?"   Harshwhinny's stool swivels about, baring her front to the unsuspecting girl. The girl's hands fly to her mouth, not even close to covering a sharp gasp. Harshwhinny is sporting an unnaturally large sex of testicles that wobble off of the edge of the seat with undeniable weight and a cocoa colored pony sheath that have to be at least five inches wide. The lamplight shines on her richly brown balls, illuminating the sheet of sweat that had built up on the whole supersized set of genitals. "I'm hoping to put on a special performance tonight and..." Harshwhinny leans down and pats her chocolatey orbs, a slight gurgle rising from them, "I need to get my equipment ready." Plucking a pair of buds from the countertop, she holds them up with a knowing, thin smile. "These are contact microphones, and I need them placed very securely in very specific spots."   The assistant's sweating bullets; her heart racing along at a steady gallop. Ms. Harshwhinny was a herm, and a brazen, hyper herm at that! One of her balls alone would be large enough to keep both hands from wrapping around it, and the smooth nuts must hang straight to her knees when she stands. How did she even get into the building without anyone noticing? As the girl watched, the sheath bulged and stretched over a massive shaft, the length wetly flopping down to slap the testes below. A light airy groan came from the balls, as if hungry... or maybe as if they were bubbling over. The sounds were so strange, but not as discomforting as she thought they'd be. The smell too, that muggy candy scent, stuck to her lungs. This lewd sort of fraternizing wasn't right for an employee to do, but...   "Alright, Miss Whinny." The assistant shuffles forward and licks her lips. The monstercock and hyperstallion sized nuts don't seem any smaller up close. She takes a mic from the herm's steady grasp. "Where should I, um, place this?"   Harshwhinny traces her free hand up her length, drawing a longing touch over her fat medial ring, thick urethra, and ending with fingertips just grazing her dripping flare. A wheezing puff slips out, the scent of cum wafting over. She gasps, tasting her special aroma. The futacock still hangs at an angle; it's weight is too much. "Right here. Make sure to give it a nice pump first though. Having it fall off on stage would be just embarrassing."   The girl takes the flare and hefts it, feeling the heat radiate off of it. Calming herself, she strokes the massive horsedick once. Bumps and veins swell, and quickly enough she's staring down the barrel of a two foot hyper penis. The yawning, ridged cockmouth seems to fit with the atmosphere of sex Harshwhinny exudes, and little urps and puffs can be heard passing through the cock. It would be the easiest thing in the world to lean down and have a taste of it, but that wouldn't be very professional. The girl's fingers are a sticky mess from the little spurts of precum and sweat seeping from the whole turgid shaft, but with a simple touch the high-tech microphone adheres perfectly to the bobbing flare, right above the belching cockmouth. It takes a rel effort to keep herself from tasting her sex-coated digits, but the smell alone is enough. Harshwhinny sucks in a breath, and her flare puckers up, flexing and dilating with schlorping sounds. "One more," she manages to slip out around a tiny urp, "right on my fat nuts, now."   The assistant whispers to herself for a second before refocusing her eyes. Sparks of arousal keep hitting her, her pussy soaking through her uncomfortably tight panties. Without another word she kneels down, keeping her face close to that bulging cockbelly and tasting all of the thick herm pheromones. All the way down to those massive brown balls just bloated with spunk and gas, glorping and bubbling at their own leisure. The mic pops on without a problem, but the girl can't pull herself off of her knees and away from those delicious hypernuts and the churning spunk inside. Her hand works itself down her dress, slipping slowly under her skirt.   Harshwhinny pushes against her belly, a meaty eruption ratting her. A sympathetic, messy jet spews from her dick, filling the air. bites her lip and tweaks one of her hard nipples, the thumb sized nub bulging even through her formal attire. "Perfect. Now give them a squeeze and tell me how they feel."   The girl immediately pushes against that sweat-soaked sack, nuzzling the hefty nuts and tasting their essence. Her free hand massages the melon-sized jizz factories, stroking and squeezing, handfuls overflowing. Her face is buried in the crevice between those overbloated cumballs, the sound and smell overwhelming her. Cumstained fingers dip into her swollen cunt, working their sloppy way into her hole, and thick lips press against them. The monsterous nuts gave way almost immediately under her touch, and although as they were as heavy as she'd hoped, they were also soft, pliable, like a half filled water balloon. Playing with them, hearing the splashing and growling inside, it was so intoxicating to her. A raunchy belch shook her newly sensitive throat.   The heat and the pleasure were doing a number on Harshwhinny too, the nuts glorping loudly and hanging another inch lower. A luscious groan, punctuated with a hearty belch of her own, falls from her lips, encouraging the girl to slavishly worship those immense futanuts. "I'm afraid we're almost out of time, little miss." She grabs her long meat, clamping down on the erupting urethroat. It fights and bulges, building pressure and forcing the stream of burps back down into her testes, but her grip holds. The girl between her legs has given herself over to the corruptive sounds, stretching her fattened pussy wide with her hand, clit twitching and as large as a pill bottle. Her long tongue darts and swishes against the pliable ballsack, spittle dripping wildly from both her lips and the smooth orbs.   With the re-digesting of all that spunkgas, Harshwhinny's groin gives off a long, deep gurgle, schl-popping and bubbling around, filling both their heads with sex. The girl can't help herself from cumming at the thought of getting filled by them, bloating up herself and showing off to her coworkers how perfectly Ms. Whinny filled her. Her yelps and groans were muffled on all sides by the smothering size of those balls, the wonderfully, incessant gurgling inside them, and unfortunately the walls of the small green room. Her body spasms a bit before falling limp, getting one last huff before collapsing at Harshwhinny's feet. Her skirt was on the verge of tearing, not only from the hand still fingering that huge clit, but from the hips that had slowly ripened into a fertile pear shape that begged for rutting.   Harshwhinny stood, her fuckstick wobbling in the tainted air. Her sack hung nearly to her knees, and bubbled constantly hoping for release. Stepping over the squirming body of her prize, she posed in the mirror. "You look beautiful tonight." A gentle stroke and glance up and down her shaft confirms both mics were still there, coated with juices and ready to do their duty. The dress skirt was a lost cause even with the high slits in the sides, but she didn't exactly need that anyway. At least her top was looking professional, pulled over her weighty tits and without noticable stains.   A knock on the door interrupts, but it doesn't open. "Ms. Harshwhinny, you're on in one. I hope you're ready," comes the muffled man behind it.   "I'll be out right away!" Heavy steps lead away down the hall. Harshwhinny smirks. With a few confident strides she's half out the door, not bothering to hide the two-foot hyperpenis waving around, nor the fat cumtanks splattered with various goops underneath. She turns to the sex-crazed assistant humping listfully against the floor. "You are getting a stunning recommendation to your superior."   The door clacks shut.