Hit It From The Back

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American stage and film actress Mary Nolan on a vintage postcard

The Tikbalang Bar

CW: DUBIOUS CONSENT, MONSTER

"Yeah, I'm at this dive called the Tik...Taka....Teek..."

"AHHHH!" Matty yelled as his phone was ripped out of his hands. He turned his head to see a bulge pushing through a pair of cutoff jean shorts.  Looking up, he  was able to take in the full figure of the tall, lean woman holding his phone. She brushed the long hair of her green and black Mohawk out of her face, chain bracelets jingling as she scrolled through with exadurated swipes. 

"It's 'Tikbalang,' by the way. The name of this 'dive.' 

It's not even worth explaining to you. What else we got here?" 

Matty knew she'd loom over him even if he wasn't sitting down, even if she didn't have the giant, clomping boots. She leaned over to meet his gaze.

 "Not only did you stay on your fucking phone bitching about your stupid breakup my entire set, you're trash talking the joint? In my favorite booth? Holy shit that's a whole new level of disrespect." Even though she was pointing to his phone, all he could look at was her chest through the neckline of her cut-up T-shirt. "Look at this. Bellyaching about the food, the drinks, MY BAND, everything. Explain this shit." 

"W-wait, you can't ...I didn't... It's not like that!" Matty stammered. 

"Well then," a bump from her wide hips was enough to push the thin-framed Matty over to make room in the booth so she could sit down. "Why don't you explain what it *is* like?" 

"I'm going through a nasty breakup. Just the... the worst and  I was in a bad, a bad mood and,and I didn't mean any disrespect" 

"Didn't mean it?" She wrapped a toned arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. "Thing is it doesn't really matter if you meant it. Not only are you being shitty in general, you're culturally insensitive." 

"Culturally... How? Listen, I don't know what you want me to s-say or do. I don't know about the bar. I don't even know what a Tikbalang is, I just want to g-go." 

"You don't know? I'm not surprised." She sneered and gripped him tight before bringing her lips to his ear. "How about a first hand lesson?" The breath against ear got hotter.  Matty felt her grip get tighter. It seemed like her arms were getting longer too. He struggled, but it was no use. He heard fabric stretching. Her chest and shoulders expanded until they stained against the once baggy T-shirt. Even her thighs were pressing more and more against him. 

"What are you d-doing? What's hap-pening?" 

"Dammit, can you do anything other than stammer? You think you can blow me off without having to answer for it? No ... you're just going to blow me." 

She gripped his head with one enlarged hand and, with no visible effort, lowered him until he was on his knees under the booth and his face pressed to her shorts. He could hear the fibers ripping as her thighs continued to expand. He reached out to try to push against her still-expanding thighs. In his struggle, his hands got caught in her fishnets then locked in place as the expansion continued. But her thighs weren't all that was expanding. He could see, could feel,  her bulge growing until the denim was so tight to his face he could count the individual threads. 

Her other hand reached to her shorts and dexterously undid her button and zipper. 

As her thick cock throbbed free. Matty's heart raced. Captivated by the sheer scale of it. He felt his own, less impressive cock give a twitch. However; his arousal gave way to dread when we realized the discrepancy between his throat and her still-growing member.  "People will...people will see,"  he cried. 

"What kind of place do you think you're in?" She sneered. "This is a 'filthy dive bar,' and *you* happened to pick the booth in the dark corner. Nobody is going to notice. And even if they do, they won't care that the headliner is getting head." 

His face pressed to her thigh, Matty couldn't even move his head back to take in the full size of her. He just saw it getting longer and thicker. More length than he had seen before. More than he imagined was possible. 

"W...wait." he protested "WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS!" 

"Don't worry. I'll keep talking," she assured him. 

"NO, REALLY I CAN'T mnphffmn." 

She pressed his open lips to the side of her shaft. All his protesterations rendered incoherent as her girth filled his mouth to both corners. 

"Now *there's* some music," she taunted sliding his head up and down the length of her. 

"Shit, yeah! Play that thing like a harmonica you little slut!" 

He did try to pull away, but the impossibly strong grip of her inhuman arms was so much more than he could fight. Pleading, no, pleasing was all he could do. To his horror, he could feel himself starting to enjoy it. 

"I've got an idea." She said in a rough, hungry voice. "Would you like to hear it?" Her grip on his head tightened and shook it up and down her shaft to mimic a nodding motion.  "That's great. I knew you would." Sliding his mouth all the way up her full length, and leveled him out with just enough of the flared tip to fill his lips. 

It was the first time he had been able to take her in since her transformation. Tight abdominal muscles were directly in front of his eyes. Following those upward, his vision was quickly dominated  by her new, massive, heaving breasts. He couldn't clearly make out anything past them. It had to be a trick of the shoddy lights, the smoke, the rattling his head took. The silhouette of her head was an almost... equine profile. Tilted upward in triumph, all that stood out were a single large, gleaming eye and an enormous, toothy grin. 

"I'm gonna make you an offer. One musician to another," she said. "I'm gonna ask you ONE question. You get it right, I not only let you go, I let you titfuck these beauties." She finished ripping her T-shirt and began groping her exposed chest for emphasis. "You get that question wrong, I IMPALE that tight throat of yours. Seems like a pretty good deal, right?" 

Eyes wide, Matty nodded gently of his own accord. His lips ever so slightly teasing her tip as he did so.

She released him just enough that he could speak but kept his quivering bottom lip pressed to her girth. With a shake of her hair she asked him, "What... is the name of my band? It was on the drum set, on posters, on the sign out front." That large head crept closer to him, eye still fixed.  "What is the name?" 

She watched Matty's eyes widen with terror and realization. He'd been too absorbed with his phone, too involved with his own self-pity to pay attention to anything else. His eyes darted desperately in every direction. He stained against her grip. "Ah, ah, ah. No peeking," she teased with a wag of her finger. "Time's running out. Tick tock. Tick Tock. Tick. Tick.' 

Realization started to break through the horror on his face. "Oh, OH it was Tikba-oghhh!"

Every thought, panicked or hopeful, was forced out of his mind when her full force collided with the back of his throat. 

"That's the bar's name, bitch. Nice try though. No, the band's name is, Maaswang Pekpek. Which is so fucking funny right now but your ignorant, monolingual ass wouldn't get it, UGH!" 

Thrashing, moaning, all completely useless against the woman, the beast, that had so completely dominated him. All he could do is watch as her heavy breasts bounced in time with his head, breathe in the primal scent of her, Feel every vein and pulse along his tongue. 

His  muffled protestation dropped off. All the panic had become so completely overwhelming that it had shut down his mind almost entirely. His mouth, of its own accord, accepted her. Matty's lips curled tighter around her shaft as he began salivating for her. The sight of her triumphant grin gave him a warped sense of satisfaction. All the noise of his anxiety silenced as his body accepted her. 

"Yeah, that's right." She whispered. "I knew you'd be a good boy."  Her grip at the back of his head tightened to let him just savor her throbbing cock. 

Matty's muscles began relaxing and was, ironically,  what he needed for one of his hands to slip free of her tangled tights.  But thoughts of further struggle were fucked out of his mind faster than they could creep in. He felt his freed hand into the waistband of his pants. He could feel he was reduced to a vessel for pleasure. His body ached for pleasure. He began stroking. 

"That's right, you like being my filthy face fuck," she said, her breath getting heavier. "Can't have you cumming before me though!" 

She pushed his head even further down her cock, causing an audible gagging sound. Every buck of her hips forcing her just a bit deeper down his throat.  Tears started to form in Matty's eyes as he stared up in adoration. The pathetic expression just made her so much more excited to fuck even harder.

"Just my nerdy, little fleshlight," she panted. "Got me so close!" 

She was humping his head with so much force he couldn't even see or think at all anymore. He just knew he needed to keep going. 

She gripped his hair and held herself in his throat. Her whole body tensed. For one moment she kept herself on the edge to look into the pleading eyes of her latest conquest. 

Her head whipped back as she erupted. She gasped in ecstacy as all of her frustrations poured out. 

Matty thought he had drowned. Every space in his mouth and throat was flooded with cum as she mercilessly pumped more and more into him. It forced its way down his throat and out of his mouth. He couldn't breathe. He didn't care. He loved the taste. He loved the feeling of flowing into his stomach. He couldn't stop stroking himself; such complete submission giving him a euphoria he'd never known before. 

Steadily, the flow decreased. Her member began to soften and retract. Her whole body began to slowly reverse its beastly transformation. Once she had reduced enough mass to fit, she zipped her shorts back up and did her best to fix the remains of her shirt. She got up from the booth to admire her handywork. "Just an empty-eyed, cum-covered, hand jumper," she said with a sneer. 

"Thank... you," was all Matty could force through his aching throat and the coating of cum. 

"Finally taught you some fucking manners," she laughed. Can't stick around to give you another lesson, though. Big after party. I'd invite you but, it's going to be too upscale for someone who touches themselves while giving head on the floor of some dirty-ass bar." 

She turned to talk away. The clomping sound of her boots almost completely drowning out the whimpers of her latest groupie finally finishing himself. 

Was on Bsky and this pic from the gorgeous Kei inspired me to write a little something. If you think Kei is hot (how couldn't you) go check out the rest of her stuff here:

https://bsky.app/profile/keisakana.bsky.social/post/3lbcs576hlf2x

I was Sent to Cut You Loose