The Coming of Spring - a Hyper Cock Doetaur Tale (Patreon)

Anisha walked through the frozen forest, her hooves leaving dainty prints in the snow. Although the graceful dryad weathered the subzero temperatures without a shred of clothes, she was not so insensate to the cold to prevent her small nipples from growing hard as ice.

Winter ruled the Everwoods. But Spring would come.

From the waist up, she could almost be mistaken for a human. She was gorgeous, with long, red hair, a cute face, and a lithe build. But there were signs. She was just a touch too perfect, too pretty, her eyes too large and her smile too bright. That was beside the obvious ones, of course: the shape of her ears, the delicate antlers sticking out of her hair, and the fact that, from the waist down, she was all doe, walking on four legs like her less graceful centaur cousins. The only truly eye-catching feature of the doetaur part of her body—aside from how damn cute her little little tail was—was the enormous sheathed cock hanging between her rear legs, big enough to rival that of any living creature in her forest.

Anisha increased her pace. It was the first time that the Mother Oak had ever graced her dreams, and she was anxious to fulfill her duty. Bringing in the change of seasons was no mean task and the instructions were vague and cryptic. It was a great honor and a great responsibility. 

And so the young dryad hurried through the snowy woodlands, swift as an arrow, to the heart of the forest, where the oldest and wisest of its trees made their home. Here, the air was still and heavy with age, trapped between titanic pillars of bark that reached far into the sky and deep into the earth. The Mother Oak stretched further than all the rest, isolated from her lesser siblings by a small clearing. She, like the rest, slumbered beneath a coat of frost. It would not be easy to wake these giants from the torpor of winter—but Anisha knew what she had to do.

Already, her spine tingled with the magical potency of her surroundings. She felt it in her hooves and in her fingers, a warm sensation that gently filled her body from without, as if she had stepped out of a blizzard to seat herself by a roaring fire. Even asleep, the Mother Oak welcomed her wholeheartedly and Anisha freely let herself be saturated by the ancient power of the forest. She approached the Mother Oak reverently and put her hands on its snow-coated bark, preparing herself for what would came next.

The rite began without delay, pouring the unadulterated power of Spring through the dryad’s palms. It was euphoric, intoxicating, a rush of passion that made her heart quicken and her knees weak. And, since Fertility always accompanied Spring, the growing heat soon entered Anisha’s loins.

The young dryad had expected this, and yet its intensity took her by surprise. A hundred sensual caresses grazed her naked skin at once, making her shudder and gasp, and only her fierce loyalty to the forest kept her thoughts in line and her hands pressed against the trunk as the stream of tantalizing warmth poured into her cock, already rising with need before the flood of concentrated fertility rushed in. Now it grew like never before, swelling inch by studly inch until it dwarfed her own arm, a mighty monument to dryad virility.

But it did not stop there. While big, Anisha might have reached such a size under her own power in a particularly inspired moment of arousal. No, her erection kept on growing, creeping up along the underside of her doe half as it fattened and throbbed with divine lust, a need so strong that it could only be sated by transforming the dryad into something else, something more than she had been.

“Mother Oak, thank you for this gift…” she intoned, speaking carefully. She had to fight her urge to scream with pleasure with every word and syllable. At her other end, she felt her balls bump against her leg, eagerly bloating bigger to keep up with her oversized cock; with them came an abundance of precum pouring from her bulging tip, the hot, fragrant droplets spilling onto the snow and melting it away beneath her. Where they fell, green blades of grass appeared from the hard earth, thawing the frost and giving away to the soft touch of the new season.

Another shiver wracked the dryad’s body, her hips bucking of their own accord as her cock reached a massive 3 feet of length, most of the way up to her frontmost set of legs. She could almost reach down and touch it, now, stimulating her throbbing, insanely sensitive fuckrod… But no, she was not permitted to remove her hands from the Mother Oak, lest she ruin the ancient fertility rite.

The sensation of hyper-sensitivity spread across her body, as if to taunt the horned redhead, and found a home in her chest. A moment later, her small, perky breasts grew warm and tingly, a teasing prelude to the growth spurt that she knew was coming. Anisha looked down, biting her lip to the point of drawing blood, as her petite bust bloomed before her very eyes, swelling inch by inch, cup by cup. They grew full and heavy, begging for her touch, so sensitive that the mere touch of the wind sent her to the edge of orgasm.

Her fat, throbbing cock did not let her forget about its presence, however. Every pulse of blood left it larger than before, thick and veiny as her font of precum drooled onto the ground as if poured from a bottle. She felt her balls tighten—and still, they fattened further, churning with such an excessive load that Anisha could hardly believe it—not, at least, without turning herself on even more. She needed release, to empty her head-dwarfing doe balls before she lost control of herself. But her duty to the Mother Oak…

Another jolt. Anisha’s trembled like a leaf in a storm. She clung tenaciously to the tree, but she could not last. Even her own smell started to arouse her, the redolent, earthy scent of her sex and the sweet fragrance of her sweat, all but steaming off her naked skin and her engorged shaft. The icy wind lost its edge against her humid aura, unable to cut through her heated musk. Her hips bucked again, finally feeling the tip of her feminine manhood bulging past her front legs, peeking out—while offering her a perfect justification for catching a glimpse of how fucking big and sexy her breasts had grown.

“F-fuck…”

She wanted it. She needed it. And she could not, come hell or high water, stop herself in time. Anisha threw her head back, howling in pleasure, as her elephantine cock jerked forward and came, gushing a heavy load of dryad cum across the base of the sacred oak. Any thought of remedying this transgression immediately vanished, because there was no more room for rational thought in her head, no holding back her climax. The dam had broken—and she had a lot to give. She moaned and clenched again, and again, shooting her absurdly potent seed by the bucketful across the frozen tree. And yet, her balls were still growing bigger, refusing to be emptied; instead, their bloating prolonged her orgasm, her mind and body too horny to stop.

Anisha dug her fingers into the grooves of the Mother Oak’s bark, anchoring herself to the center of the forest as her surroundings dissolved into orgasmic bliss. Splurt, splort, sploosh, she went, coating the ground in molten cum. There was so much of it too much, pooling between her hooves as the ridiculously virile cannon between her legs fired again and again, as if meaning to submerge the whole forest.

When she came to, that had damn near come to pass. The small clearing around the Mother Oak had turned into a pond of gently steaming dryad seed, its warmth melting every trace of frost off the gigantic tree. Anisha herself was sodden and sweaty, lying on her side and half submerged. Her cock was still enormous, extending so far past her front legs that she could hug it—and she clearly had, squeezing out the last drops of her climax. It had gone soft… but had also refused to shrink, as if deciding that this monstrous size was her new smallest size. The thought of how big it might get once she grew hard again made a shiver run down her spine…

But Anisha had a greater task than her own pleasure: to banish Winter and bring Spring to the forest. She opened her eyes and beheld the Mother Oak, wet with cum and snowmelt. Had the rite failed? Had she? The communion was complete. She had touched the heart of the forest, and yet Spring was nowhere to be seen. 

If only she had been stronger, perhaps, she could have kept control of herself. She might not have transformed, might not have broken the bond to the Mother Oak. Now she was left an obscene image of excess, a doetaur with a penis nearly as big as herself and tits the size of prize pumpkins, soiled in her own juices.

But before the young dryad could fall too deep into despair over her mistakes and their consequences, a shaft of light broke through the snow-laden clouds, casting its soothing rays across her skin. And then she saw it.

A bed of flowers, blossoming from the soggy earth. This was no mere thawing of dead plants; it was Spring, the return of life to the hibernating forest. Fresh grass rose around the roots of the Mother Oak, whose bare branches came alive to sprout a new coat of leaves. The howling of the harsh wind died down and was replaced by the gentle caress of a soothing breeze, carrying with it the smells and sounds of summer. Anisha’s pond of cum drained away into the ground; everything it had touched came alive.

The weight fell from Anisha’s heart and she smiled with relief. This was not the ancient rite that she had imagined—but then, what could be more natural for the return of Spring? She felt tired, but peaceful, having done her duty; although, as the dull throb in her loins reminded her, there were a lot of land yet to free from the grip of winter.

***

The dryads of the Everwoods were children of the forest, their forms as malleable as the shape of water. Aside from her tendency towards size queenery, Anisha was not out of the ordinary. She could be a boy or a girl, both or neither. The doetaur took the form that suited her fancy without shame or compulsion; the most she had to endure was some light ribbing for making her cock so big.

Now, however, she was beyond the natural limits of her shapeshifting, ascended to a higher state of lust. And even though it overwhelmed her, made her fidget and blush with the realization that she had totally lost control, she liked it. The spring rite had given her a gift she had never dared hope for, and she was eager to see how far it could go.

Anisha lapsed into erotic day dreams as she recovered from her explosive experience, and this was when the Mother Oak spoke to her again. The message was cryptic, as always, conveyed in images and sensations. As it were, Anisha had plenty of both swimming around inside her head, so much so that she could not tell where her own fantasies ended and the visions began.

She saw her kin in the forest as she had never seen them before. Her inner eye zoomed in on a pair of naiads playing in a stream, one two-legged, the other in the shape of a doetaur. But as they did, a cold wind blew in and snap froze the water, the pane of frost reaching towards them like malevolent force. The two women started in alarm, but could not escape before the ice took them, growing gaunt and lifeless as they froze in place.

But not for long. With the coming of spring, the power of winter was shattered; the naiads looked towards their savior, all smiles as their withered curves returned—and more besides. As Anisha took them in her arms, she felt their hips widen, their breasts grow, their bodies growing strong and limber, stronger than they had ever been. She felt kisses on her face, hands caressing her neck, her sides, her cock. And yet her friends kept getting bigger, more fertile: as she watched, their bellies grew round and gravid, swollen with life that she knew that she had put there.

Her mind’s eye move on. She saw nymphs of all shapes and sizes, dark and light, thick and thin; the only constant was their inexorable blooming in her presence, the wondrous, sensual metamorphosis of one and all, growing lush and fruitful. A plethora of soft, shapely breasts surrounded her, smothering her, as a murmur of hushed voices invited her to reach out and touch them, squeeze them, to breed the innumerable juicy cunts that was eagerly presented to her. The forest grew thick with softness and sex, the fertile nymphs dancing between the trees with laughter and huge, pregnant bellies. The images came at a dizzying speed, showing more nature spirits than she had ever seen, a horde of horny, breedable nymphs ready to tease her, take her, love her.

Anisha snapped back to reality mid-orgasm, breathing hard atop her massive erection.

She was about to bring in the Spring like never before.

***

She should not have been able to walk. And yet, Anisha did, her graceful gait only partially stymied by the monstrously excessive endowments slapping between her legs. Her bulging cock-sheath now took up the whole of her doetaur underside, thick as a barrel, while her balls hung so low that even by raising her butt as far as she could, her sac still ended up dragging over the forest floor. The time of leaving dainty hoofprints was far past. 

But then, so was the time for snow. At Anisha’s approach, the wind softened and the frost melted away—whether from her holy aura or from the pure heat rising from her oversized package. The blessing of fertility simply overruled any objection from the laws of physics; and as she made her way through the sprawling woodlands, she noted how the rest of her had changed, too: her hips were wider, her limbs stronger. Even her messy mane of hair had extended, falling all the way down her back. She had become an avatar of life, a symbol of the fertility of the forest. With every step, she felt the heat rise inside her, sending little shudders between her legs. Even now, her cock was still expanding, slowly but surely; but Anisha did not worry. She needed every inch and more to realize her plan to liberate the forest.

The Everwoods sprawled across a huge swathe of land, subsuming the rolling hills in its verdant coat. It had been there before the start of history and would be there at its end. At the eastern edge of the snow-covered canopies, a lone mountain rose out of the sea of green, a single peak overlooking Anisha’s home. That was her destination.

Her scrotum fattened ceaselessly as she neared the summit, filling with such a volume of cum that even the boulder-like balls that dragged behind her were inadequate to hold it. Already, the excess spilled from her cock, leaking down her wrinkled sheath to pour onto the path, where a stream of musk-laden seed formed and ran all the way to the bottom. And still, the heat in her grew, intensifying as her goal drew near.

Finally, she reached the top. The view was breathtaking, a sweeping vista of endless forested valleys; but Anisha had no capacity to admire it. Already, she was at her limit, and if her plan had included any further steps, it would surely have failed. She sighed with relief—and instantly her cock throbbed out between her legs, pouncing at the first crack in her armor.

The power of her libido was out of this world. Each single throb of her cock sent a shock wave through her entire body shook her entire body, leaving the dryad to shake and squirm. How could she resist her cock’s demands, its pure lust? It was the natural consequence of having a manhood that large, perhaps, dominating the rest of her, and yet it felt unreal, too pleasurable to be true.

Anisha ran her dainty hands over her bulging cockhead and bid it grow.

It was tempting. It was easy. It was the only thing she could do, surrendering to her needs. She did not have to ask twice.

The euphoric surge of expanding cockflesh nearly made her cum right then and there. Two feet of thick, sensitive dryad dick pushed out of her loins at once, slick and wet as it thrust across her rapidly spreading pool of precum. Then came two more, and two more, and two more. She felt her sheath widen, bulging against her legs, as her balls raced to match her shaft, bloating with alarming speed. Already, she felt her hooves lift from the ground, buoyed by her gleefully expanding package.

It was exactly as she wanted. Anisha bent down, her upper body flush with her swelling cock, and hugged it between her arms and breasts. The sensation sent fireworks through her mind and body, making her shudder and moan with uncontrollable pleasure. Her hips moved, her length throbbed, and, with a gurgling shiver of her balls, unleashed an immense gush of cum over the tip of the cliff, the spray of white falling through the air for several seconds before splattering messily onto the pine trees below. The dryad could not see how the grip of winter softened in the wake of her cumshot, but she knew it would happen and urged herself on to keep it up…

… Or, she would have, had she retained any capacity for higher thought. Unadulterated lust filled the inexperienced dryad like never before, consumed her very being. She bucked her hips and fired another salvo, grunting out something between a moan and a cheer, and succumbed to the mind-numbering bliss of her cock growing again. And again. And again. Inch by inch, foot by foot, her fat, throbbing cannon pushed out ahead of her, utterly dwarfing the dryad herself. She loved it. Too horny for words, she could only give a soft whine as the tip slipped out of the reach of her hands and instead elected to titfuck her mammoth shaft to the best of her ability. Her breasts could not even reach a quarter of the way around her slick, sweaty spire, but the friction did the trick, launching her into an even higher pitch of ecstasy—and as her package continued to evolve, so did her breasts, bulging out between her arms as they slid back and forth across that hard, veiny girlcock.

Her cumshots became a constant, a steady beat accompanying the earth-shaking throbs of her penis. Gush, gush, gush, they went, launching fountains of thick, virile goop high into the air and onto the frozen forest, which thawed with surprising speed as the base of the mountain became a deepening bog of dryad cum.

And still her balls grew. She had, after all, a lot of work to do.

The doetaur no longer had any hope of touching the ground. Her cock was too big and too greedy, having swollen to rival any trunk in the forest save the Mother Oak herself—and just the thought of it sent another surge of size through the dryad’s loins, driven mad by the very notion that anything could be grander than her dick. The mountain rumbled beneath her, suffering under the weight; but her rod cared for nothing except its own magnificence and surged ahead in ever more violent growth spurts, adding ten feet at a time to its titanic length length. The stream of cum that ran down the slope became a raging river, the backsplash of the of the torrential downpour of dryad seed that rained upon the Everwoods at large. Anisha fucked herself the best she could, grinding her body and torso-dwarfing tits across the top of her eminently sensitive megacock until she could sense nothing but her climax.

Did she even need to? Her orgasm was continual at this point, too powerful to stop. If she had cut herself off from all sensation, by choice or by force, her supercharged godcock would have kept growing, kept cumming, kept drowning the forest in thick, molten ball batter. Her cockflesh steamed with sweat and musk, cloaking her surroundings in tendrils of humid mist as her sex grew to dominate all senses—especially her own. Drunk on lust and power, on scent and sensation, she rutted herself, not even thinking to aim as her tremendous shecock bombarded the landscape with lake-sized globs of cum.

Winter was, in brief, entirely outclassed. The coat of frost melted before Anisha’s heat, the hard earth giving way to all manner of plant and animal life. Even the howling of the wind, threatening to bury it all in its snowy embrace again, faltered against the dryad’s heady sexual aura, only managing to carry the scent of her ultra-virile balls further afield and yet, somehow, never diluting its potency.

Spring had finally come.

Unfortunately for the other seasons, so had Anisha—and she was more than happy to ensure that it would keep coming… and coming… and coming…