Archive of Our Own

Dipper’s quest for manliness is actually going very good until they bring out Leaderaur.

Leaderaur is twice the size of the rest of the Manotaurs. His beard is long and thick, his skin covered in dirt and grease, his body odor genuinely oppressive. He’s probably the most manly thing that’s ever walked the earth. Dipper swallows.

Chutzpar places a large hand on his shoulder to reassure him. Dipper is grateful for the support, although the force of the gentle pat almost sends him to his knees.

“Leaderaur!” Dipper announces, deepening his voice as much as he can. “I wish to learn from you how to become a man!”

There is silence for a long moment while the bull-pig-man-thing considers Dipper. He draws in a breath, seeming about to speak, then stops. He sniffs the air, once, then twice, confusion overcoming his features. Then, anger. Dipper takes a hesitant step backwards.

Leaderaur looks at Dipper with fury in his eyes. “You are no man.”

Dipper’s heart drops into his stomach.

Chutzpar looks down at him, concerned. “Destructor?”

Before Dipper can move another inch, Leaderaur has stepped forward and, as if grabbing a small branch, picks Dipper up and lifts him off the ground.

“What are you —”

Before the words are even out of Dipper’s mouth, Leaderaur has reached a single finger down and pulled Dipper’s shorts and underwear down to his knees. Dipper feels his whole body get hot and red as he tries to wriggle his arms free to cover himself.

“A female has attempted to infiltrate our cave!” Leaderaur announces.

Dipper’s stomach twists, his face burning with humiliation. “I’m not a girl!” he yells. “Who cares what I was born as, I’m a boy!”

“Destructor...” Dipper turns his head to Chutzpar, hoping for some sympathy from his first friend of the group. But he only finds betrayal, dissapointment, and some other emotion he can’t quite identify. Chutzpar sighs, and turns away.

“She must be punished for this deception!” Leaderaur bellows. The misgendering cuts like a knife. It’s been so long since anyone has seen Dipper as anything other than a boy. Then, the fear rolls in. What are they going to do to him?

Leaderaur snarls. “I smell her fear. She knows she has decieved us! The sow is guilty!”

“I’m not!” Dipper snaps, trying again to wiggle his way out of the manotaur’s grip. “I’m not guilty of anything, because I am a boy!”

Leaderaur shakes him by the hands, making his teeth knock together and his brain feel like it’s been put in a smoothie maker. “All in favour of throwing the deceptive sow in the pit of snakes!”

A loud chorus of aye’s rise from the crowded cave, and Leaderaur takes a step. Dipper’s stomach plunges into his feet. He can’t die like this. This can’t be it.

“Wait!”

He turns his head towards the voice. Chutzpar. Is he going to be saved?

“Destructor... Dipper, has committed a great sin. But we may be being wasteful.”

Dipper ignores the strange phrasing. This is his only hope for making it out of this cave alive. He’ll take whatever he can get.

Leaderaur does not dismiss his subject outright. Dipper looks up at him, straining his aching neck, and sees the large monster nod once.

Chutzpar goes on. “Our nature as a species is that we do not create any sows. And now, one strong enough to conquer the first round of trials has waltzed into our camp. We should not turn her away just because she has been deluded into thinking she is a man!”

What.

Leaderaur nods at Chutzpar. “Then, we will have acquired a fertile sow, and corrected a misguided youth. A beneficial arrangement for all parties.”

Dipper’s brain has slowed to a crawl. He doesn’t think he really understands what is happening, but he knows it’s bad. Knows it is very, very bad, and very unlikely to end with him going home safe and sound. And he knows what the word fertile means, although he prays it means something different to the manotaurs.

“What... what is going on here?” he squeaks.

No one answers him. “I am concerned about her youth, and her size,” Leaderaur muses. “I am uncertain if she will be able to handle a Manotaur at full passion, or be capable of bearing our calfs once impregnated.”

Chutzpar shrugs, seemingly unbothered. “The sow is sturdier than she looks, Leaderaur. And if she is broken upon our knots, it will be the same as if we had tossed her to the snakes. If the breeding is unsuccessful, we will have still punished a deciever and released much tension. There is no loss here.”

Breeding. The word echoes around Dipper’s head like the reverberation of a bell. They can’t be saying what he thinks they’re saying. And will any of them just look at him? Why are they still talking over his head like he’s an animal?

“What are you guys talking about?” he finally manages to ask, voice too high.

Chutzpar ignores him, and crosses his arms over his burly chest. “May I implant my seed in her first? She has decieved me the longest.”

Leaderaur nods. “Of course. If she survives taking your knot, a proper breeding may begin. But even if that is not fated to be, I would not deny you your chance to punish the criminal. Do not be gentle. If she cannot handle the full strength of your vengeance, it is unlikely she will be able to bear our calves.”

Suddenly, Dipper feels himself being dropped and thrown to the cold stone ground. The breath is knocked out of him by the impact, his ears ringing. He tries to scramble to his feet, but already Chutzpar has wrapped both hands around his waist, large palms nearly covering the full surface of his stomach.

Fear. That’s all Dipper can feel. Blind, animal fear as he pounds on the hands that hold him and tries to claw at Chutzpar’s chest. Chutzpar smiles, almost indulgently. “May I tell you something, Destructor? I am quiet glad you are here now.”

Dipper freezes.

Chutzpar looks almost as if he is sharing a guilty pleasure, or embarassing secret with a friend. “Truthfully, since we have no natural females in our species, and our mating habits are far too rough for most of the forest creatures, we have a difficult time finding ready sows for breeding. And although you have been led astray from your path as a woman, I believe this may be what you need to help you accept your true purpose.”

Dipper feels his eyes fill with hot, unwelcome tears, and tries desperately to blink them away. “Please don’t do this,” he begs. “I don’t— I’m not a girl. I don’t want to have kids, I don’t—”

Chutzpar’s chest reverberates with laughter. “By the end of this day, I will hear no more of that from you. When we are finished, I will want to hear you say these words: I’m a girl and I love cock.”

He can’t get out of this. There is no way at all to break free, no way he can outrun these beasts. But in that moment, Dipper promises himself that, no matter what happens, or how badly he is hurt, he will never say those words. “Never,” he hisses at Chutzpar. “I am not a girl.”

A laugh echoes around the cave. Then, Chutzpar releases one hand from around Dipper’s waists and uses it to tear his vest and t-shirt away. Beneath, there is only the black latex of his binder. Dipper feels himself turn bright red, and makes a renewed effort at escape, if only to keep some of his dignity in tact. Chutzpar shakes his head.

“She has hid her burgeoning breast beneath a compressive fabric,” he tells the cave. They sigh in disgust, shaking their heads. He turns his attention back to Dipper, eyes sad as a disappointed parents. “After your cunt is claimed and your breasts swell with milk, I hope you realise how wasteful such a thing is. To hide such a lovely pair of young breasts from the world.”

Dipper feels nauseous, bile rising up in his throat and tears pricking at his eyes again. Somehow, he still isn’t expecting the harsh hand that rips his binder off of him, sending it into tatters on the floor. His breasts aren’t large, he knows, but they’re still bigger than he’d like them to be, and the room of sweaty pigmen find them all too fascinating. Chutzpar, in particular, looks entranced.

Without warning, he takes the full mound into his mouth and sucks, hard. Dipper gasps, kicking out at Chutzpar’s stomach and trying to shove him away, but it’s no use. There is pain, and pressure, and worst of all, pleasure. Dipper has never touched himself there. He didn’t know what it would feel like to have a hot mouth and hard tongue on his nipple. It makes his ears ring, his vision blurring.

Finally, the manotaur pulls off with a wet pop, and Dipper tries to take the chance to catch his breath. But before he can get a single lungful of air in, Pituitaur’s mouth is on his other breath, sucking harshly and flicking the nipple around with his tongue.

Dipper tries to get out a word, but the only thing that comes out of his mouth is a breathy moan.

Chutzpar pulls away, leaving Dipper panting and embarassed. His thighs feel sticky.

“Wonderful,” Chutzpar compliments with a smile. He turns to Leaderaur. “Her breasts will do well at feeding a young calf.”

“Make sure to check her fertility,” Leaderaur says, reminding Dipper that the large Manotaur has been watching silently all this time. “Her smell is potent, but I cannot be sure if she will take.”

Chutzpar nods, and lifts Dipper to headlevel without seemingly breaking a sweat, only one hand on his lower back to keep him supported. Dipper’s head lolls, and he watches upside down the faces of the monsters watching him be inspected and violated. There is no pity or empathy there, not that he expected any. Only amusement, and lust.

Suddenly, there is a hot nose sniffing at his private parts. He jerks, trying to break free, and kicks out, landing a blow square on Chutzpar’s jaw. The beast hardly seems to feel it. He sniffs, and then closes his mouth around Dipper.

Dipper chokes on a noise, trying again to kick Chutzpar off, or wriggle free, but it’s no use. A tongue laps around his entrance, teeth scraping his clitoris in a way that sends shockwaves of pleasure up his back. And then the too-long tongue dips inside of him, exploring and pressing down on his inner walls. Dipper moans, face hot and tingling, brain like static. His breath catches in his chest. He’s only touched himself a handful of times — he’s not ready for whatever this feeling is.

The long tongue inside him presses up and, at the same time, Chutzpar’s lips close around his clit and suck hard. Immediately, like the breaking of a dam, Dipper climaxes.

His vision spots out for a moment, breath coming in shaky, and when he comes to, Chutzpar is lapping up the fluids from his privates unashamed, residue sticking to his beard. Dipper feels tears well up in his eyes at the humiliation of being watched, trying to kick out at Chutzpar’s face again, only to find his legs to weak and shaky.

“Let me— let me... go,” he pants.

There is a low murmur of amusement from the crowd as Chutzpar draws his face back. “She is very fertile,” he declares. “Her body is desperate for a man’s seed, even if her mind is misguided.”

A second murmur rises from the crowd. At first, Dipper doesn’t know what feeling it’s meant to convey. But then he sees Manotaurs palming themselves through their rising loincloths, and realises it’s lust. This can’t be happening.

Dipper yelps as he’s turned right side up again. Chutzpar only needs one hand to hold him fully off the ground. It’s terrifying, and humiliating.

“It may be delayed no longer,” Chutzpar says, this time addressed directly to Dipper. “Your cunt longs for cock, and your womb longs to bear our children. More than that, my cock longs to bury itself inside you and fill you with my seed. I cannot deny either.”

He reaches down with his free hand, and pulls away the loincloth around his waist.

Dipper’s heart sinks.

Chutzpar is already hard. He’s thicker than Dipper’s thigh, probably too large for him to even wrap his hands around. But more than all of that, he is long. Dipper can’t imagine a world where taking even half of that thing doesn’t end his life slowly and painfully. He’s not sure what a knot is, but if he had to guess, it’s probably the large red lump at the base, which is twice as thick as the rest and looks even more painful to fit inside him.

He’s going to die.

He watches as the prominent veins on the monstrous thing pulse, and a bead of precum leaks out of the tip.

“That’ll kill me,” he pleads one last time. “You have to know that will kill me.”

“It may,” Chutzpar acknowledges. Then, like he’s sharing an inside joke with a friend, “but it will feel very good for me while it does.”

More laughter. Dipper is going to die, and these monsters are going to laugh while he does.

Chutzpar smiles, using his free hand to wrench Dipper’s legs apart, and then slowly guides him downwards. Dipper thrashes and struggles but even he knows it’s no use. I’m sorry, Mabel, he thinks. Sorry, Stan. I’m not going to be coming back.

When the blunt, thick head pokes at his entrance, Dipper hopes for a moment that it will truly be too big. That it will not even be able to fit inside. But Chutzpar only lets go of Dipper’s legs to grab at his cock and aims it, concentrated, and then pulls Dipper down like a toy.

Pain. Unfathamable, awful pain. His entrance moves, stretches, tears open on the head of the cock poking at it, trying desperately to accomodate that unrelenting intruder. Dipper screams, trying to tear himself away, but it’s no use. It takes what feels like an eternity for the head to finally pop all the way through, splitting him open completely.

Dipper pants, trying and failing to form words around the pain and pressure inside him. “Take it out,” he begs through gasps for air. “It hurts, it hurts, take it out.”

“You seem to forget that this is also a punishment,” Leaderaur scorns.

Chutzpar is panting as well, Dipper sees when he tilts his head up. He blows air out through his snout, face red, clearly trying to stay composed.

“I have never felt a boys cunt before,” Chutzpar mocks. “It is even tighter and needier than all the women’s cunts I’ve fucked.”

More laughter. Is that all they do?

Dipper tries to glare, but is interrupted by Chutzpar pulling his body further down onto his cock. He cries out again, that hard, thick rod pulling him apart, splitting him in half from the inside. He doesn’t get a moment’s reprieve this time, only the endless miles of cock being shoved inside, more and more and always more, filling his stomach and lungs and throat to bursting. He claws out for something to hold onto and finds nothing but Chutzpar’s hand around his stomach.

Just when Dipper is starting to wonder if this endless cock is really hell, if he has already died, he feels it stop. It has reached some sort of barrier, some sort of end inside him.

Chutzpar pants, as if he has run a mile. Then, he peels his fingers away from Dipper’s stomach, which is sticky with sweat, keeping a firm grip on his ribs. From the crowd of Manotaurs, there is a collective groan of lust at the sight. Dipper forces himself to look down, and finds a large, unmistakable bulge in his stomach.

He nearly throws up, dizzying pain and pressure making his vision swim. It is so foul, so awful...

“It’s perfect,” Leaderaur says approvingly. “The sow has simply accomodated the cock inside her. Chutzpar may have been right. She seems already perfect for breeding.”

Chutzpar grins. “I have reached the end of her cunt,” he announces. “Her womb will need to be just as accomodating if she is to take my knot.” He looks down at Dipper. “But I have faith in you, little one. You want this just as bad as I, even if you do not know it yet. Your body will make room for me.”

Leaderaur nods. “Now, do not hold back any longer, Chutzpar. Although it will be eventually rewarding, she must know what a mistake it was to imitate the likes of a man.”

Dipper hardly has time to think, he’s been holding back? before he’s drawn up the length of the cock and slammed back down.

He screams.

The pain is somehow worse than the first penetration. It lets him close, then opens him up again. It is so fast it makes his teeth slam together. He watches, horrified and sick, as the large bulge in his stomach grows and deflates with every harsh thrust. 

Worst of all, it makes him feel so inhuman. He’s moved up and down like a toy in Chutzpar’s hand, fucked into like it’s all his body is for. Men moan around him, calling for his assailant to go harder, to be rougher, to fuck her right, show her her place, teach her what a real man feels like! Somehow, even the calls for violence do not sting as much as the misgendering.

“Is this how a man feels, sow?” Chutzpar pants. “Is this how a man feels, being fucked in ‘his’ cunt?”

Laughter. Always laughter. Dipper’s legs kick out involuntarily, drool spilling out of the corners of his mouth. Fuck you, he thinks but cannot say for fear of biting off his tongue. Fuck all of you.

“I’m going to breed your little cunt now,” Chutzpar growls. “I’m going to fill you full of my children, pump my cum straight into your womb.”

Dipper tries to fight again, but all he can manage is a weak slap against the arm holding him upright.

For some reason, instead of slowing, or becoming weaker, Chutzpar’s thrusts grow even harsher. He slams against the barrier inside Dipper, as if trying to break through it.

That’s when Dipper realises that, despite how endless the cock inside him seems, he cannot feel the knot at the end of it. He’s trying to go deeper.

“Stop!” he screeches. “Stop, you can’t— I can’t take anymore! There’s nowhere left, I can’t take it!” A tear rolls down his cheek, and the Manotaur inside him leans down to lick it up.

“You are going to take what I give,” Chutzpar growls. “You will feel my cum inside you if it is the last thing you feel. I will breed the deepest recesses of your cunt, and then you will bear my children. You will take my knot!”

Finally, something gives. Dipper feels that ending inside him split open, allowing the violent thrusting to penetrate even further, into somewhere warm and full of nerves and on fire with pain and pleasure and too much. And then, Dipper’s hole somehow closes over the massive knot at the end of the Manotaur’s dick. There is a loud pop, and Dipper feels himself being filled.

Chutzpar roars, hot cum gushing out of his cock like a fire hydrant. Dipper chokes, feeling his womb fill and then expand and then keep going, filled up with so much cum it’s as if Chutzpar’s cock has doubled in size. And, worst of all, the knot keeps his entrance plugged through it all, meaning the semen has nowhere to go except inside him, filling him up even more.

“Take it all,” Chutzpar growls. “Take all of my seed, woman.” Chutzpar pulls him in close, burying Dipper’s face in his hairy stomach. Dipper takes big gulping breaths through his open mouth in a desperate attempt to get in enough air, spit and drool spilling out and sticking to the hair in front of him. His eyes struggle to stay open, his brain numb. All he can think about is the cock inside him and the neverending spurts of cum still filling his insides.

“I am impressed,” Leaderaur praises. Dipper can’t tell if he’s being spoken to or about. He can’t bring himself to care. “I did not expect her to be able to take your cock to it’s sheathe, let alone your knot. It seems you were right, Chutzpar. We have found us a new sow after all.”

Loud, raucous cheers errupt from the cave.

Fading in and out of consciousness, Dipper thinks at least it’s over.

Then, someone from the crowd yells “I should be allowed to breed her next!”

No...

“My seed is much more potent! I should be next to breed!”

Leaderaur silences them with a huff and a snort. “Men! Fight all you wish for your place in line, but reign in your tempers.”

One of the Manotaurs steps forward. “I will be the first to claim her ass!”

No, no, no, no...

“Calm yourself, Testosteraur. All men must implant their seed within her womb first to ensure pregnancy. Make certain to have done that before you begin using the sow for pleasure alone.”

The knot within Dipper deflates, and he’s finally pulled off of Chutzpar’s cock. A rush of cold air enters his hole as the thick white fluid gushes out onto the cave floor, mixed with the red of his blood. He can still feel some of it, sticky inside his gaping hole.

The Manotaur who shoves his way forward first does not waste any time taking what he wants. He grabs Dipper by the waist, positions his cock, and pulls him all the way down. Dipper cries, trying in vain to make his legs move so he can kick the intruder away. This cock is not as long as Chutzpar’s, but it’s even thicker. Dipper feels himself slam down on the massive knot with every thrust, which is so big he can’t imagine it fitting inside him. It seems bigger than his head.

“Get off of me!” he yells, fists pounding the Manotaur’s chest, words coming out in a sob. “That hurts!”

The Manotaur fucking him groans. “Say that again.”

Dipper clenches his teeth together, not wanting to give the beast the satisfaction. Then, a hand comes down to pinch hard at his nipple, twisting it and sending shocks of pain up his spine. The Manotaur inside of him growls. “I told you to say it again, bitch!”

Dipper hesitates, and the twisting gets even more vicious. “Stop!” he cries, pounding at the Mantaur’s chest with what now feel like pathetically small fists. “Stop it, get off of me!”

The Manotaur groans, shoving Dipper up and down his cock even harder. “Beg me for it. Beg me not to knot you. Do it pretty enough and I’ll let you go.”

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t throw away his dignity for an obvious lie. But the tiny chance that the Manotaur is telling the truth makes him pause. Thinking about the pain of that massive knot ripping inside his pussy, of being filled with sickening amounts of cum over and over again, makes Dipper suck in a desperate breath of air and sob.

“Please, stop! Please don’t knot me!” he screams. “I can’t take it! It’s too big and I don’t wanna get pregnant and I can’t!”

The whole world narrows down to the painful strokes pounding against his cervix, the tight hands wrapped around his waist, and the massive knot smashing against his entrance. “More,” the Manotaur growls, and Dipper can’t help but let out all of the horrible, terrified thoughts in his head.

“I wanna go home! I can’t do it, I can’t— it’s too much! I can’t do it again, it hurt so bad, and I’m not a girl and I feel so gross and please please just let me go! Don’t cum inside, I can’t take any mor—”

Dipper’s words cut off in a scream as the fat knot pushes into his entrance and then expands, sealing him tight for another wave of hot, unwanted cum. He didn’t even really believe they would let him go. So why does he feel so betrayed?

“You promised,” he hiccups.

“That was so fucking hot,” the Manotaur inside him groans, still pumping cum into Dipper’s plugged hole. “Her cunt got even tighter when she was begging me to stop.”

“It’s the natural reaction,” Chutzpar claims. “Her body is trying to milk the cock inside her of seed. Only the mind can be misled. The body is much wiser. It knows it is a woman, meant to bear a man’s children.”

“Wise words, Chutzpar,” Leaderaur says with a nod.

Chutzpar laughs. “I figure there must be a difference between mind and body, for a cunt so needy to be attached to a mind that denies she even has one.”

Peals of laughter around the room. There is more mockery. There is always more mockery. They seem to have almost as much fun humiliating him as they do assaulting him.

“Thought you were meant to be a man,” one of the Manotaur’s taunts. “Not so tough now that you’ve had a little cock, huh?”

“Don’t call my cock little, Pituitar!” the Manotaur inside him growls as his knot deflates. He pulls Dipper off harshly and tosses him to the cave floor. All the breath is punched from his lungs as he slams into the cave floor, body spasming, cum gushing out of him. His head spins as he watches the two Manotaurs fight.

He blinks and the Manotaur who caused the altercation, Pituitar, swims into his vision. The large beast puts a hand on Dipper’s back, holding him down, and then slams his cock inside him. Dipper screams, trying to twist away, but he can’t. All he can do is take whatever they give him.

“How do you like that, huh?” Pituitar shouts. “My cock bigger than that pussy’s?”

Dipper just screams, feeling the cock inside him pounding against his cervix. He’s trying to break through it. He’s not even trying to knot me yet.

Pituitar reaches out and grabs a fistful of his hair, using it as leverage to pull Dipper back and forth over the rough stone floor, spearing his cock even deeper inside. “I asked you a question, bitch!”

Pituitar slams down, finally getting his fat cock through the open hole in Dipper’s cervix, pulling out, and fucking back down. Dipper tries to speak, but all that comes out is another sob.

His attacker doesn’t seem to mind. “Told you mine was bigger, bitch! I’m fucking straight through her cervix. Gonna breed this little cunt right in her womb, fill her up with my calves.”

There is so much sensation, so much fullness and pure wrong inside him that Dipper can hardly think. He can only scratch at the ground, trying desperately to get away from the beast rearranging his insides.

“So fucking tight,” his assailant continues. “You want this.” Dipper tries to shake his head. “Don’t pull that shit. Say it. Say ‘I’m a little bitch and I want it in my pussy’. Say it or I’ll shove my cock down your throat next.”

Part of him is worried he’s going to bite his tongue off of if he tries to speak. But mostly, he doesn’t answer because this is all he has. If he can’t hold onto this — that he is a man, that he doesn’t enjoy this — what else is he going to have when this is over? What’s going to be left of him?

Tears in his eyes, Dipper manages to spit out the words “fuck you.”

Pituitar growls, and reaches out with his hand to wrap it tight around Dipper’s neck. It only takes his thumb and pointer. The rest don’t even fit.

Dipper thrashes. Kicks. Tries to suck in a breath of air. Nothing. There’s so much pain in his guts, on his ribs, inside his lungs that he feels close enough to death. Darkness swims in his vision.

The only thing Dipper thinks is thank God. It’s over.

Then, the world comes rushing back, along with a breath of fresh, bright oxygen into his lungs. At the same time, his head spinning, Dipper feels the behemoth inside him push through even further, knot popping through, head pressing against the very end of the very end of Dipper’s insides. Another load of fertile semen gushes into his womb.

When it does, Dipper's whole body seizes up, and he feels himself cum so violently it's like being shocked.

“The little whore likes being choked,” Pituitar grunts, grinding forward against Dipper’s womb. Dipper’s body jerks. “She also likes a decent sized cock, so the rest of you pussies can go home.” He presses a wet kiss to Dipper’s back, making him shudder in disgust. “I'm the only one who can satisfy her lust.”

A Manotaur that Dipper recognizes as Testosteraur steps forward. “I wish to seek pleasure in her other holes, so I will impregnate her quickly.”

Pituitar grinds forward again, a spurt of cum hitting the very end of his womb. A shock of pleasure makes Dipper jerk. A breathy moan escapes his lips in spite of the pain.

Pituitar laughs. “I think she likes me too much. Might not want me to leave. But I did make a promise.”

Dipper feels the knot inside of him deflate. The Manotaur pulls his long cock out next, sending a gush of semen onto the cave floor. Despite how mangled it probably is, Dipper’s womb manages to keep the majority of the semen behind his cervix. He can feel it inside him. He shudders with disgust.

No matter how much is in his womb, though, there is more pooling beneath him. He tries to drag himself forward, but his arms won't move.

The feeling of cum against his skin is so disgusting that Dipper finds himself almost grateful when Testosteraur picks him up.

That feeling disappears when he feels how big the head of the thing trying to get inside him is. Even with three thorough fuckings, he can't easily fit around that.

“Length is not the only metric,”, Testosteraur says stoically, pushing against Dipper’s uncompromising entrance. “Look at how much fear is in her eyes. That is the metric by which a man measures his worth. When he sees that fear in the eyes of a woman, he knows he has done what a man does. That he has taken what he is owed, even if it is denied him.”

Testosteraur rubs Dipper’s back with his thumb, head catching on the entrance. Dipper sucks in a deep breath, then closes his eyes. He doesn't want to look at the pool of release on the floor anymore.

“However you feel now,” Testosteraur says, almost gentle, “I will make you feel worse.”

A hand wraps around both his wrists, pulling his arms up behind his back. Then, Testosteraur uses Dipper’s arms to pull him back hard and fully impale him.

Testosteraur wastes no time. He tears Dipper’s hole open and thrusts with wild abandon. Dipper’s head knocks hard against his chest from the force of the thrust and he almost bites through his tongue. He keeps his teeth together after, putting all his focus into clenching his jaw tight.

With his head against his chest, he looks down and sees the massive, unnatural bulge in his stomach. At first, he’s grateful when the large hand of Testosteraur reaches down and covers it up — until he notices that he’s being leveraged off of Testosteraur’s cock and squeezed hard with that same hand. He’s using me to masturbate, Dipper realises. Shock and disgust and shame flood his body. It’s like he’s not even there. He’s just a toy, a hole these men can drain their balls into and then discard. It doesn’t matter if he’s a boy or a girl or a piece of plastic. They’d feel the same.

But it does matter, he thinks. Because they want to get me pregnant. It matters that I’m a— that I have girl parts.

The internal slip up is so distressing Dipper doesn’t notice Testosteraur speeding up until he’s tearing Dipper’s walls around his knot and pumping him full.

When Dipper manages to tilt his head up, not wanting to see his expanding womb and stomach, he finds a cock dangling in his face. Pituitar is standing in front of him, and before Dipper can even ask what for, he grabs his cock and uses it to slap Dipper in the face.

It’s warm. Hard. The precum it leaves on his face is sticky and wet. The smell this close almost makes him want to gag.

Before he can stop himself, he chokes out “have you ever washed that thing?”

Pituitar laughs, as do several others. “Nope! Care to do it for me?”

Dipper tries to glare, and then shudders as a hot spurt of cum hits somewhere sensitive inside him. 

“Even... Even you have to know... I won't survive—”

“Boss?”

He looks beyond Dipper. “Just be gentle,” Leaderaur commands. The Manotaurs laugh again.

Pituitar laughs the hardest. “Aw, come on. She likes it rough! Don't you, baby?” Dipper tries to pull away, but Pituitar grabs his jaw before he can. He wrenches it open, then lines up his cock. Dipper doesn't know if he could fit that inside him if his jaw was dislocated.

When the head of the foul-smelling thing pushes into his mouth, Dipper gags, trying to shove Pituitar away. He feels his jaw expand to it’s limit, the corners of his mouth stretching. He can’t breathe around it, but breathing through his nose is almost as torturous because of the smell.

“Well?” Pituitar questions. “Clean it.” Dipper tries to shove him off again. “Clean it,” he repeats threateningly. “Or I won’t stop until I feel your lips around my knot. We’ll see if me and the guy in your ass can touch tips.”

Dipper feels a tear roll down his face. Maybe death would be preferable to this. But not dying like that.

He starts to lick.

It tastes fouler than it smells, but even that is gradually starting to fade. Just pretend it’s a popsicle, Dipper tells himself. A really big, gross, groaning popsicle.

Just when he’s starting to lose himself to the pleasant delusion, Testosteraur pulls out of him, sending a river of warm cum down to the floor and letting cold air in. He’s still being held aloft when Testosteraur replaces his cock with a much smaller finger, and makes a scooping motion like he’s trying to pick up some of the spunk left inside Dipper’s hole.

Dipper tries to ignore it, swallowing down some disgusting, salty precum, when that finger tries poking into his ass.

Dipper jumps, trying to lean away and accidentally pushing himself further into the dick inside his mouth, bumping it against the back of his throat and making him gag. Pituitar groans, grabbing a fistful of Dipper’s hair and slamming himself down on it again.

As he chokes, Testosteraur manages to get a finger inside his ass. Then, he takes it out, dips it in more cum, and pushes it inside again.

He doesn’t know how long they continue that routine. Only that Testosteraur has gotten three fingers inside him when he finally pulls all of them out.

Dipper tries to pretend he doesn’t know what’s coming next. He knows he can’t run, but he tries to thrash out of their grip anyways. Maybe just so he can say he put up a fight.

It doesn’t matter. Nothing he does seems to. Testosteraur says “fuck into her throat. The screaming will constrict it.” and Pituitar pushes himself down until he’s reached the point that makes Dipper gag, then shoves past it, his manhood filling up Dipper’s throat until there’s no room left to even breathe through his nose. Dipper balls up his fists, slamming against Pituitar’s thighs, trying to get out, and then Testosteraur lines up his cock with Dipper’s other hole and pushes himself inside.

He thinks, at some point, he was trying not to scream — in order to avoid giving Pituitar the satisfaction, maybe. But that thought is gone. He can’t do anything but scream. Or, try to, muffled and gagging as he is.

He thinks he hears groaning, somewhere. But all he can think about is this pain, worse than any other time he was penetrated, ripping his insides to pieces. His vision starts to go black, and he thanks God for the relief.

Suddenly, he’s sucking in air, coughing up spit and something else he doesn’t want to think about. He’s still being held up by the hair and the waist, the pain inside making him twitch and shake, shocks running up his spine to his neck.

“Fuck,” Pituitar pants. “That was so hot.”

“She is too dry,” Testosteraur growls.

“I've gotcha,” someone shouts, and there's the sound of something being tossed through the air and then caught. A wet, cold finger inserts itself into Dipper's ass. He hates that he shudders in relief at the feeling.

Dipper barely gets a moment to breathe before a large, saliva soaked cock lands heavily on his face. Dipper sputters, trying to push it away, and his jaw is wrenched open.

“Three,” Pituitar counts. “Two. One.”

They both shove in at the same time, and in Dipper's oxygen deprived brain, he thinks he really does feel them touch their cocks together inside him. For a long time, all he knows is the sensation of cock sliding too far down his throat and the less intense but still horrific pain of his asshole being torn open for the first time.

At some point, he knows that Pituitar reaches down and squeezes his own cock through Dipper’s throat, and that Dipper feels every vein and bump inside him.

Finally, finally, they both seem to be getting close.

“C'mon baby,” Pituitar pants, shallowly thrusting into Dipper's cheek. “Make me cum. In your mouth or down your throat, whaddya want?”

Down my throat will kill me, Dipper thinks, but it still takes a moment of steeling himself before he can reach up and take the rest of the massive cock in his hands. Testosteraur is still going slow, which helps. He seems to prefer the deeper, longer strokes to the fast and rough ones.

Pituitar groans, hips shakily thrusting forward. “Use your tongue too,” he commands. “Work for it, princess. You know you want it.”

Dipper feels a wave of disgust at the nickname, even in his hazy mind, but obeys. He licks at the slit on the top, circles it, jacks it off the whole time. He worships it. Anything to keep Pituitar from killing him with it. 

Pituitar suddenly pulls back to Dipper's lips, grabbing his own cock and jerking it frantically. “Stick out your tongue,” he commands. “And take a deep breath.”

Dipper doesn't even think about.

As soon as his tongue is flat and out of his mouth, Pituitar grabs the back of his head and thrusts until Dipper's hair is pressed into his pubes, and his knot has inflated behind teeth. Just then, Testosteraur shoves as hard as he can into Dipper’s small, formerly virgin hole, and traps his knot inside as well, letting it inflate and pump warm loads of cum into his ass.

“You wanted to be a boy, right?” Testosteraur snarls. “Well, this is how boys are fucked.”

He says something else, but Dipper doesn't hear it. Full of cock, being filled from both ends, Dipper blacks out.

He wakes up when the cock in his throat pulls out. The one in his ass is gone a moment later.

They leave him on the floor for a moment, curled up in a ball, shaking, coughing, gasping for air. He doesn’t care how dirty it is anymore. When he sees a shadow looming over him, he just manages to contain his sobs.

But this Manotaur kneels down beside him and, instead of thrusting into him, simply strokes his hair. Dipper can’t help but lean into the touch.

“Hello, little one,” the new monster says, grabbing Dipper around the waist and lifting him onto the Manotaur’s lap. “I am Pubetor.”

“I am going to fuck you now,” Pubetor says, just as gently. “If you say nothing, I am going to use your ass. I will be rough. It is going to hurt.” Dipper feels his chest tighten with fear. “But if you ask me to, I will fuck your pussy. And, as a reward, I will make it feel very good for you. Which would you prefer?”

His pride aches. It burns. It rises up in his throat like bile and almost makes him choke. Pubetor lifts him up once again and holds him above his cock, aiming for his gaping, bleeding asshole, when Dipper finally swallows it down and speaks.

“Don’t!” he rasps. He clears his throat. “Please, don’t... don’t put it in there.”

“More specific,” Pubetor reminds him. He smiles a little, and Dipper realises his voice is the only kind thing about him.

“Don’t... don’t use my asshole.” The words feel dirty, even after all that’s happened.

A finger gently rubs at his waist. “So what should I do? Be specific, little one. What do you want daddy to do?”

“Daddy?” he asks incredulously.

“Yes, dear?” Pubetor replies, utterly sincere. 

Dipper screws up his face, closing his eyes tight. His pride hurts. But the rest of him hurts worse. If it takes saying something disgusting and demeaning to avoid that... He takes a deep breath. “I want... I want you to fuck me in my pussy. Please.”

“Please who?”

Dipper grits his teeth. “Please, daddy. I want daddy to fuck me in my pussy.”

Slowly, Pubetor’s cock sinks in. “Well how can I say no when my little girl asks like that?”

Unlike the others, Pubetor doesn’t start fucking into him right away. Instead, he sinks a few inches inside, then pulls back, then pushes in a little further. At some point, he hits a spot inside Dipper that makes him gasp. After that, he sinks in just enough to press right against that sensitive place, then pulls Dipper slowly back off.

It helps that his cock is smaller than any of the others Dipper has had tonight, although still absurdly massive. Any pain is lost under the waves of pleasure.

Pubetor smiles when Dipper can’t keep back a high moan. “See, they all think what we are doing to you is a punishment. But they are wrong. It is a reward, to show you your true place in the world. You were foolish, yes, but that is no reason to be cruel. You are a woman. You cannot help needing a man’s guidance.”

“I’m not—” Dipper objects between moans— “I’m not a... woman.”

Pubetor laughs, soft and indulgent. “Maybe when you are out there. But here, on my cock? Your tits bounce. Your pussy is pink and wet. You look like a woman.” He thrusts hard into that spot, making Dipper gasp something high pitched and erotic, a noise he never thought he could make, one that makes him sick to his stomach. “You sound like a woman.” Pubetor rolls his hips, reaching his thumbs up to rub at Dipper’s nipples, sending shocks of pleasure straight to his pussy. “You certainly feel like a woman.”

“I’m— I’m still—” Dipper tries to object.

Pubetor pulls Dipper down a little further, and Dipper braces for pain, but none comes. It just feels good. “Maybe out there,” Pubetor repeats. “But bouncing on my cock like this? You are a woman, like any other.” He does little thrusts, but his cock remains pressed against all the sensitive places inside Dipper, and the pleasure builds up like water against a dam, fast and hard and overwhelming. 

Finally, Pubetor runs a thumb over Dipper’s nipple again and whispers in his ear, “Now cum on my cock, little girl.” And Dipper does.

Pubetor fucks him through the orgasm, and then another, and then another, until Dipper is so overstimulated and sensitive he’s trying to push the pleasure away, not the pain. But Pubetor just keeps going, slow and steady, pulling Dipper up and down his cock.

Dipper feels a bit of drool running down his chin and tries to reach up to wipe it off. But his arms are too weak and shaky, so he just leans his head against Pubetor’s chest again, legs twitching under him, begging the man to just knot him already.

“What was that, little one?” Pubetor asks.

Dipper blinks, ears ringing, and realises he asked for that out loud. He didn’t mean to do that. “Not’in’...” he slurs, shuddering as more pleasure shoots through him. Is he losing it? Did he really just ask to be knotted?

Only so this torture could end, he tells himself, then lets the train of though float down the river as Pubetor thrusts into him again.

Pubetor goes on steadily for a while longer before his thrusts begin to get faster, more desperate. He starts to breathe harder, his grip on Dipper getting even tighter.

“Beg for it,” Pubetor pants. “Beg for my knot. Beg for Daddy to impregnate you.”

This will end it, he tells himself. Make him cum and it’ll be over. “Knot me,” Dipper begs. “Cum inside me, knock me up with your calves.”

“Yeah?” Pubetor asks. “You want that? You want daddy to fuck you full?”

He’s so tired he barely processes the words. “Yes, please! Please, make me a—”

He catches himself, swallowing down the word that wanted to come out. That he almost said. But it sits behind his teeth, begging to be let out.

“Properly,” Pubetor pants. “Beg for it properly.”

Dipper gives in. “Daddy!” He squeals. “I want your cum! I want it so bad, Daddy, please, just knot me already, please!”

The words are right there. It'd be so easy to say them.

“Good girl,” Pubetor growls, and finally pulls him down over his knot, his tip just breaching Dipper’s cervix, and starts pumping cum into his womb. The sensation, plus a large hand on his clit, sends Dipper into another strung out, exhausted orgasm.

The words he almost said still linger. Make me a mommy.

He shudders as he thinks them, and tries to believe it’s from disgust.

Someone else picks him up all too soon, and he begins the process over again. Then there is another, and then another, and another to take his place. Several come back for his ass again, until there is enough semen inside it that it no longer hurts when it’s fucked. Every orgasm he has, he feels himself slipping a little further away, losing himself a little more.

Once, he has one in his pussy and one in his ass, and he can feel them touching through the thin barrier inside him.

It seems easier to cum after all the ones Pubetor wrung out of him. It happens nearly every time now. Every orgasm feels like betrayal. He doesn't know if he remembers against what. 

Dipper starts to lose track of how many people have fucked him somewhere around twenty-five. By then, the sun is starting to set, and everything in him aches and shudders with pleasure and overuse. In the brief moments where he doesn’t have a cock inside him, his pussy gapes open and gushes out semen left over from previous rounds. 

At some point, there is a loud commotion, and a hunting party returns from a days long trip in the woods. There are at least thirty more men, who all take turns fucking into Dipper as rough or gentle as they want until their knot inflates and they can breed him full again. After they’ve had a turn inside his pussy, men line up for his ass or his throat. As a celebration of the bountiful returns of the hunting party, he is fucked in all three at once. He passes out for a while after that, and comes to being fucked by someone else, with an unknown number of new loads inside him.

They hold a large feast, sometime deep into the night. They eat boar and drink mead and laugh uproariously, mostly at Dipper, at the concept of a woman who believes she is a man. During the feast, Dipper is sat on the cock of the leader of the hunting party. He’s grateful to have a chance to rest. At one point, the man inside him grabs a large glass of wine and forces Dipper to drink from it. They laugh as it spills down his chest and stains his skin, but he’s so thirsty he’s willing to drink anything they offer him.

Everything seems to hurt a lot less, after the wine. But it only makes his already frazzled mind even slower. Dipper feels...

Dipper doesn’t know how he feels. His brain is overworked, like he’s fried it’s circuits with too much sensation. He doesn’t think he knows anything anymore.

The sun is rising. Or is it setting? How long has he been here? How many people have fucked him?

He knows one person who hasn’t.

Leaderaur grabs Dipper by the waist and lifts him off the cum-soaked ground. “You have been well bred, little girl,” he growls. “But my seed shall ensure fertilization. Just as my cock will conclude your punishment, and brand you as a sow for my race.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dipper sees the rest of the Manotaurs gather around in a large circle to watch. He doesn’t feel embarrassed anymore. He’s long past that.

Leaderaur rips off his loincloth to reveal a cock bigger than any Dipper has seen tonight, with veins as thick as his finger. He tries to remember what words are used to ask someone to do something. He knows he should be asking Leaderaur, even though he can't remember what he wanted. Before he can make his fat, heavy tongue produce them, the fat tip of Leaderaur’s cock is shoving through his entrance.

Leaderaur is torturously slow. Never pausing to let Dipper adjust, refusing to get it over with, just steadily encroaching onwards. Dipper feels drool running down his cheek and, when he tries to reach up to wipe it off, has his hand slapped away.

“I like it,” Leaderaur says casually. “Makes you look so dumb and willing.”

Just then, a vein of his cock bumps into a sensitive space inside Dipper, setting it alight with sensation. He’s so overstimulated that it’s enough to make his body seize with a climax, hands grasping onto Leaderaur’s arm for support.

In the haze of his orgasm, Dipper feels Leaderaur’s cock run into the tiny fleshy opening of his cervix. He stops, pulls slightly back, and then slams forward with all his might until the hole splits open for his head to poke through. Then, he pulls Dipper further down, further down, until he reaches the end of his cervix, and then further, pushing it back into his body. Only then does Dipper feel the familiar shape of a knot at the end of his pussy. It should hurt worse than anything else tonight.

But it feels so good.

More drool spills off his lips, even a few tears as he babbles something incomprehensible. Leaderaur wastes no time in setting a harsh and punishing pace, rearranging Dipper’s guts to fit himself inside, and it feels like he’s turned Dipper’s whole body into a live pleasure nerve. Dipper hears someone screaming in pleasure and hardly realises that it’s him.

“Time to admit it, little one,” Leaderaur growls in his ear. “Say those words. I am a girl and I love cock.”

Maybe another version of him wouldn’t. Maybe the version of him that walked into this cave yesterday wouldn’t. But his... her mind isn’t the same. She can’t risk letting him stop.

“I’m a girl!” she moans, half sobbing. “I’m a girl and I love cock! Please don’t stop! I need it! I need your cock, I need your knot! I need your cum in my pussy!”

Leaderaur speeds up, and Dipper screams in ecstasy.

“You want my calves?” he pants. “You want to bear my children?”

Dipper can’t imagine anything better in the world. “Please,” she sobs. “Please, please, please! I need it! I need your cock and your knot and your babies! I'm a girl and I need your babies!”

“Apologise,” he snarls. “Apologize for pretending to be a man. For denying men access to your body all these years. For denying your nature.”

A wave of guilt washes over Dipper. He's right. She's been denying her purpose as a woman. She's meant to be abused and played with and bred full of babies. She's been so mean.

“I'm sorry!” she sobs. “I'm sorry I thought I was a boy! I'm sorry I was so rude to you! Thank you for teaching me my place!”

“Good girl,” Leaderaur praises.

When the knot pushes inside her, Dipper cums so hard she sees stars.