Chapter 9: Take It All Down
Finn was the first to break the silence that followed the deep, digestive churn from within Buck’s titanic stomach. He pulled the bloody shirt from his nose, wincing, and gave a shaky, crooked grin up at the giant that had been their friend.
“About fucking time, sugarbear,” Finn rasped. “That’s what you should have done the moment they snipped off that damn catheter.”
Jesse, still on his knees, stared at the carnage—the smear, the bent rifle, the cracked crater where the catwalk had been. “Finn, he just… he just ate people.”
“I’m aware, Jesse. I have ears and a magnificent sense of dramatic irony. I’m saying I approve.” Finn struggled to his feet, clinging to Tommy’s arm. He tilted his head back, taking in the sheer, impossible scale of the man above them. Buck loomed on all fours, his great head lowered, a look of fierce, unfettered curiosity in his giant eyes. The ragged remains of his briefs were the only thing left on him, and the dense, sweat-damp fur of his lower belly did little to conceal the massive, half-turgid shaft that rested heavily within them. It was the size of a fallen tree, a veined, pinkish-beige column nestled against colossal, furry testicles. “He’s a god now. A huge, hairy, mountainous god. And by the bulge in those tragic Hanes, a horny one, too.”
Buck rumbled a low laugh. The chamber vibrated with it. “Feels like it,” his voice boomed, oddly gentle for its volume. “Feels like I could lift the sky. But I don’t want to be that kind of god. Not right now.” His gaze hardened, sweeping over the blast door, the concrete walls, the speakers still blaring their mindless alarm. “I want to be the god of wrecking this place. Of grinding every single bug who dared to put you in cages into paste. Anything to keep my boys safe.”
Tommy, rubbing his raw neck, nodded slowly. “Good plan. Solid plan. Love the energy. But, uh, tiny logistics question? How do we get out? They’re gonna send everything they have at us.”
“Mmm.” Buck’s giant tongue wet his lips thoughtfully. His hot breath washed over them, smelling of iron and something strangely clean, like ozone after a storm. “Got an idea. Think you’ll like it. Safest place in the world right now.”
He didn't elaborate. He simply lowered his right hand, palm up, to the floor beside them. It was like a padded platform the size of a living room, the lines of his palm deep as gullies, each fingertip a blunted monument. The warm, earthy scent of his skin, magnified a thousandfold, enveloped them.
Without hesitation, Tommy stepped on. Finn followed, stumbling a little, his designer boots crunching on the microscopic grit of Buck’s skin. Jesse hesitated for only a second longer, then climbed aboard, his librarian’s mind screaming at the absurdity even as his body accepted the incredible warmth and solidity.
Buck lifted them, a smooth, elevator-like rise that made their stomachs lurch. They rose past the wreckage, past the shattered lighting rigs, up the sheer cliff-face of his torso. They stopped level with the formidable bulge of his briefs, the worn green cotton stretched to translucency by the enormity beneath. The heat radiating from it was immense, a primal, musky furnace.
With a delicacy astonishing for his size, Buck used two fingers of his other hand to peel back the elastic waistband of his briefs, creating a dark, warm opening. “In you go,” he boomed, a playful, smoky edge to his voice. “Cozy up.”
Finn’s eyes went wide. “Oh, you magnificent bastard.”
One by one, they stepped off his palm and into the hot, dark space. The fabric settled around them, a loose, green sky. They stood on the dense, springy fur of his lower abdomen, a forest of dark curls. And before them, taking up almost all the available space, rested his cock. At this scale, it was less a penis and more a geographical feature—a smooth, flushed slope rising to a broad, domed head, half-hard and leaking a steady, clear bead of pre-cum the size of a kitchen trash bag. Beneath it, his testicles swelled like two parked Volkswagens, covered in a softer, silkier pelt.
“Jesus, Buck,” Tommy breathed, his voice full of awe. He reached out, placing a hand on the warm, velvety skin. It twitched, a minor seismic event, and a low, gratified groan vibrated through the very air around them.
“It’s… incredible,” Jesse whispered, his fear momentarily eclipsed by sheer, stunned observation. He wasn’t touching, just staring.
Finn, ever practical, already had his boots off. He kicked them into the fur and pressed his whole body against the hot shaft. “Well, don’t just gawk, you heathens. The man is providing central heating and a security detail. Least we can do is make him feel appreciated.”
Outside, muffled by layers of muscle, fat, and fabric, a booming voice shouted orders. Sirens wailed differently—attack sirens.
Buck’s hand left the waistband, plunging them into near-total darkness, save for a slit of light from above. They heard him move, a world-shifting lunge that pressed them deep into the fur and firm flesh.
Then the rampage began.
It started with the door. A sound like the earth being torn in half, a shriek of reinforced metal giving way, followed by a thunderous crump as Buck simply shoved his shoulder through it. Chunks of concrete the size of cars rained down somewhere outside their warm, dark world.
The sounds were layered, chaotic, and deafening even through the insulation.Crunches. Short, sharp screams that were abruptly terminated. The rhythmic, world-ending THUD of his footsteps shaking the ground beneath them. A high-pitched whine—a vehicle?—that ended in a wet, metallic splatter.
Finn clung to Buck’s cock, laughing, half-hysterical. “I wish I could see it! He’s kicking their asses back to the stone age!”
A particular violent CRASH, followed by the tinkle of shattering glass and a long, grinding collapse, made the very cock they leaned against pulse and thicken perceptibly. A low, predatory growl echoed down to them, vibrating in their bones.
“He likes it,” Tommy said, his voice dark with excitement. He stroked the broad vein running along the underside. The skin was burning hot now, the pre-cum flowing faster. “He likes destroying them.”
Jesse, finally giving in, let his fingers trace the smooth rim of the head. It was slick, satin-soft. “We’re encouraging him.”
“Damn right we are,” Finn purred, bending to lick a salty bead from the skin. “He’s our god of destruction. Let’s make him a happy one.”
They worked together in the dark, hands and mouths exploring the impossible terrain. Tommy kissed the trembling skin. Jesse massaged the heavy, pendulous balls. Finn, his nose still throbbing, whispered filthy, encouraging things against the fever-warm shaft. Every caress, every touch, was met with a sympathetic tremor from Buck, and answered with renewed violence from the world outside.
A sharp BANG-BANG-BANG of explosive impacts—maybe grenades, maybe rockets—rattled their sanctuary. Buck roared, a sound of pure, unadulterated fury that made them cover their ears. There was a series of quick, brutal stomps, each one a localized earthquake. Squish.Crack. Squish. Then a sound like a giant swatting a hornet’s nest—a WHUMP and a shower of metallic debris.
He was eating again. They could hear it: a sucking inhalation, a brief, panicked chorus of shouts, then a deep, swallowing gulp and a contented, gurgling sigh that resonated through his entire body. His cock jumped in their hands, now fully, monumentally hard, a proud, throbbing obelisk.
The destruction became more personal, more cruel. He wasn’t just eliminating threats; he was erasing the base itself. The grinding crunch of buildings being ground under his palms. The shriek of metal frameworks being twisted into abstract sculptures. The distant, Doppler-effect scream of a jeep being thrown, end over end, into a fuel tank. The resulting WHUMPF of ignition bloomed as a wave of heat even they could feel.
For twenty relentless minutes, the symphony of annihilation played. Then, finally, it stopped.
The silence was profound, broken only by the heavy, panting breaths of Buck and the slow, liquid churns of his satisfied stomach. A last, settling piece of rubble clattered in the distance.
Then, a roar. Not of anger, but of declaration. A long, chest-deep bellow that shook the last dust from the ruins and announced, to the empty hills and the terrified wildlife, that he was done. That nothing in that valley was left standing. That the survivors numbered exactly three, and they were currently snuggled against his raging erection.
The waistband was peeled back. Daylight, now real daylight, streamed in. They blinked, covered in his scent, their clothes damp with sweat and pre-cum.
Buck’s colossal fingers gently plucked them from his briefs, lifting them clear. They were in a clearing of stomped earth and shattered pine trees. Behind him, where the underground complex had been, was now a smoking, cratered wasteland of crushed concrete, twisted rebar, and unrecognizable, flattened metal. A single APC lay on its roof, half-melted. There were no movements, no sounds of life. Only the crackle of small fires and the sigh of the wind.