* Avylin grins. "Good. I think I could get behind such a spirit." She presses in, then, svelte batty body meshing to yours, one wing hooking behind your shoulders as the other drops, so her hand can oh so forwardly seize your sheath and give it a warm squeeze, hefting it againts your tummy. Her muzzle runs along the underside of yours as she grins up at you, breath warm on your throat. "Because you still have one of the most fertile and kinky imaginations out there and I'd be quite a miss if I couldn't avail myself of it." Her tongue lashes out to swipe across your throat, before she smiles and leans back a bit. Her hand stays where it is, though.
* Echoen chrlps! Shi leans back, but only out of reaction. Quickly shi melts into your grasp, groaning lushly as you press to and cling against hir, so very forward, so clear in your affection. With a lush churr, hir sheath swells in your grasp, spilling part of its dark, fleshy contents into your hand. Breathing in deeply of your sweet scent, shi slides hir nose across your muzzlefur. "I'll have to stop holding it back then." Shi battles your tongue with hir own. Pressing hir broad hips forward, hir sheath and sac quash into your lap, letting you feel the pulsing heat of hir growing erection.
* Avylin mm-hmms encouragingly against your muzzle, the only answer you're going to get for a moment while her lips and tongue are otherwise occupied, tangling with yours; above them, her eyes half-lid for a moment and her nostrils flare, drawing in a deep breath. The hand ony our sheath slides up to grasp that swelling shaft instead, stroking it encouragingly, while it finds a ready rival in the fruit bat's own, her strawberry-pink prick sliding up over her tummy. She breaks off your muzzle after a moment and grins. "Of course, I realize now might not be the most opportune time for anything like this. Still, I'd be remiss not to show a little, y'know. Encouragement."
* Echoen 's potent scents wafting up from hir cock fill your nose, mixing with the pheremones laden in hir breastfur. Our long, slick tongues joust with each other for some time more, but it's such a secondary task to the pleasure of our bodies. The plump cockvein of hir shaft slides up and down alongside yours, hir pre slicking your fingers. "As good a time as any for me. But if you want to speed things up...." Shi chrrrs deeply, pushing back to you now, hir breasts pillowing up against and over your chest. Hir hands find themselves upon your hips, your waist, your ass, claws raking over the fur-laden bubbly flesh. 
Echoen: "Let me encourage you twice over." The brown battyfox begins to... swell, expand, gain. Hir torso judders upwards as a second pair of heavy breasts spill out, and with them, another pair of paws. Sandwiching your sheath is not one, but two shafts now, throbbing to your belly, tips touching the underside of your breasts. Moaning in mono and suddenly in stereo, two faces kiss your cheeks. Hir backside swells out vigorously, new legs popping forth.... but this transformation is the most extreme, for not one new pair of legs grow outwards, but several. Hir legs split sideways, and then each splits backwards, two heavy battytaur bodies pushing out behind hir, connected at hir hips. 
* Avylin 's eyes widen for a moment, her hands digging into the fur of your sides as she feels your body swelling and stretching and splitting in her hold... she grins, closing her eyes, turning her muzzle this way, then that, kissing into each of your faces in turn, suppressing soft moans of delight. Her body presses lustfully into yours once more, letting her feel those changes along your front, playing over her own curves, your fur sliding through her own, and letting you feel her shudder of delight at the sensation of it. That shudder culminates in a gasp and a moan- as her muzzle broadens and splits, forming a seam that runs back over a face whose features double and divide. 
Avylin: Two heads soon meet your own to seize each of your muzzlesin a smooch, while a similar reaction occurs below- the white bat's hands spreading and splitting, armwings dividing into a new pair. Her hips gyrate against your joined forward pair- or is it two, side-by-side?-, letting her strawberry member play between your twin shafts... though her gait is interrupted a bit as her own hips swell backwards, new legs pushing backward and out, a 'taur body of her own growing outward. She doesn't have your catamaran arrangement, though she makes up for it in length, as a third pair of legs pushes backward, much of her body surging into a warm collission with yours as her six feet find purchase beneath her newly hexataur'd form.
* Echoen watches your head split into two as casually as hir own, the sight arousing hir further, lips and muzzles meeting and scissoring. Hir four arms clutch and caress you, hir breasts swallowing your chest, even as you gain more. With a dual lustful groan, hir forehips gyrate lewdly to yours, relishing your transformation and the sensation of it, reaching as far back as shi can to touch along your flank. One head breaks a kiss with you, just to nuzzle past your face and watch, stare, salivate as your taurbody grows and grows, pushing against hir, forcing hir back to make room for oyur bulk. A long thick tube of silky white fur, what's not like to like?
Echoen:  Two of hir hands caress and pump your pink shaft up and down, using hir dual members to slather it in pre. Doublegrinning, shi pulls back, stepping away from you, and then around you. Shi pushes up onto hir hindlegs, both pairs, and slides over your back, pulling with all four forelegs. Now, hir dual hindbodies are flanking your longer battytaur body, hir breasts are framing your backside, and shi's grinding flank-to-flank. 
Avylin: (Mm! facing opposite directions, or in a more traditional mounting sort of alignment?)
Echoen: (Hold out one finger. With the other hand, make a V with two fingers. Put those two fingers over the middle one)
Echoen: Side-by-side but with the split join resting on your taurback.
* Avylin is about ready to protest as you draw back- andj ust when things were getting so cozy!- but as she feels your leggy form mantling and framing her own with your side-by-side hindbodies, she stills herself, and braces for your weight with her six feet spread wide. She takes it smoothly and grins, reaching up with a both pairs of hands to draw your arms forward and around her upper quarters. That grinding motion against her longer, single-column 'taur body is reciprocated, her legs churning steadily, playing the silky fur of her ample hips against your flanks. Her body squirms and shudders elsewhere, though, as little rivulets of pleasure shimmy their way along her limbs and course through her blood. 
Avylin: Down below, each pair of hindlegs shifts and grinds as a plump, white-furred sheath fills out between them, entrances yawning wide around paired cocktips that spill forward and firm into meaty arches, a doubling mirrored between her frontmost pair of legs. She licks both pairs of lips as she turns to smile back at you over her shoulder- a rather complicated gesture as her tongues swell and split into a pair each before withdrawing. "Careful, now," purrs her left head. "Heavens know what might happen if we got all tangled up," concludes the right.
* Echoen noses to the backs of your heads, kissing along the lush ears, arms draped both over and under your twin shoulders, cupping heavy swells of white bat. "Perhaps ther's something else in mind." Shi murmurs from both lips, pushing hir thick bodies together, grinding flanks firmly together. You can feel them, working together, somehow heightening the pleasure of your new thick doublestuffed sheaths. Your shafts emerge as they have, but then, all pulses again, like static down your body. Those sheathes crawl up your shafts by a full foot, then disgorge all over again, shafts much larger. 
Echoen: Your sexes on your hindmost body leak and dribble estrus over your sac, starting to squish and glsh noisily as you pour, and pour, producing girljuice in vast abundance. Your taurbellies begin to thicken, and swell, flesh and mass pumping into your frame, widening you to the peak of fertile excess. Hir hands cupping your breasts overflow with your flesh. Your pink nipples are swallowed in white fur, the undersides of each boob bulging, becoming a sheath, with heavy balls. Your ears split into two pairs, for little reason than to make you even prettier.
* Avylin seems content to squirm and twist beneath you, her doubled length giving her a certain sinuous quality as your grinding plays her long body between your twin back ends. The feel of that electrical jolt through her body elicits a more active reaction, though- both her muzzles gasping, a soft shudder setting her rigid beneath you for a moment. One face is left panting softly as the other bites her lower lip; her ears flick as they double, up, and when her eyes blink back open, it's with a flutter of movement at the center of each forehead as a third eye appears there as well. 
Avylin: Fitting yourself around her figure becomes a trickier proposition as it swells and widens beneath you, svelte curves becoming soft, then plush indeed as she adopt a broader, more matronly bearing... but not TOO matronly, as the array of thickening cocks that jut out from under her body- and elsewhere, too, as her breasts become sheaths and more strawberry batcocks spill out to arch before her. Her curving belly beneath that pair ripples as a second bosom- such as it is- forms, adopting the phallic qualities of its predecessor. By now the hex'taur's middle and hind hips are grinding, rolling, rubbing the underside of her plump pricks against the ground beneath her, and she barely suppresses a shudder as a small climax works its way through her body- just a brief one, 
Avylin: enough to bring the gush of nectar from between her rumpcheeks up to a burst of the same, and ribbons of batty seed jet out along the ground before her, painting a broad, sticky white swath. She calms quickly enough- seems that wasn't any sort of a climax, more like a milepost on the way to something greater. Licking her lips once more, she turns to grin back at you with her... exotically multiplied features, a gesture made easier as her necks stretch up and back a bit, becoming a bit longer, a bit more flexible, if only to make it easier to manager her twin faces. "Aww. You see what you do to me?" purrs her left head.
* Echoen clutches against you, perhaps sharing in the pleasure that you feel, or using your growth as a distraction from hir own. As your third eyes pop out and you turn back to look at hir, you get a good view as a third head pushes between hir necks, all three moaning aloud. Hir stances broaden, as a third taurbody slihers along behind hir, between hir two originals, forelegs and hindlegs flopping over your plush tauric curves. Three heads pant and grind to you, shafts pushing against your back, hir hips idly humping. "Will hardly be the beginning...." One head moans, before it gets cut off, lost in a kiss with one of your faces. "...If I have anything to say about it." 
Echoen: The other two churr in unison. Two paws cup and caress your right head's cheek and face and long neck, relishing the creamy, silky fur. Every movement from you causes your chests to wobble and bounce, jostling the sheaths and heavy shafts that bulge them. CLosing hir six eyes, shi clenches, squeezing around you from three directions - you feel hir tauric bodies *surge* backwards, each one becoming hex. Both of hir flanking figures continue to grind, but they bow out at the middle - allowing hir large rumps to be pointed slightly inwards.
Echoen:  Your hindmost shafts yawn left, and swing right, as if magnetically tugged towards hir heavy cunts. The middlemost taurbody places hir hind feet on the ground, and bury an achingly sizable amount of black cock deep into your drooling sex. Sheathing it fully into you, hir sac jostling against your own, bouncing as shi begins to hump and thrust. Each motion sending your taurcocks drilling into hir sidebodies.
* Avylin 's toes curl into the ground, clutching at their purchase as a lot of momentum starts being thrown around in a short amount of time... humped as she is from behind, rocking her body forward, the motion translating into a roll and twist of her hips that drive her twin hindmembers forward into the clefts that engulf them. Her body seems to adapt to the tightly tangled position- those rearmost lengths growing a bit longer, twisting about, not quite growing prehensile but lose enough of their stiffness that they can easily arch into position, stuffed between your outermost rumps.
Avylin:  Still, it seems like it must not be enough, as her plush body ripples and shifts beneath you, soft clefts forming in her white-furred hide, then deepening as her single 'taur body begins to split. New legs push out at either side, while her hindmost sheath bulges and divides, and slowly, thrust by thrust, her single column back triples, the divide working its way up the length of her body, bit by bit, until a trio of double-length batty bodies are slung beneath her. In the process, her whole figure grows a bit longer, a bit more serpentine, like her necks before them- 
Avylin: such that while she's able to coil her middle body beneath your own mounting middle, her side bodies can haul up to mount your outer rumps in turn and hunch forward against them, thrusting with an alternating rhythm, deep pushes that drive her strawberry cocks deep inside both sexes. Her own ripples and squeezes at yours, her fertile figure as eager to be bred as it is to return the favor; while up front, her twin faces gasp in a lustful duet, hands greedily holding you in an embrace about her middle. As before, her muzzles swell and begin to divide-
Avylin:  though the process only goes so far, encompassing her faces but not her heads, such that as it concludes a pair of faces at a slght angle from eachother crown each head, facing away from eachother in a V-like formation. Combined with her doubled ears and triple eyes, it gives her the look of something out of some eastern mythology, but the delight in her four voices is hard to miss. Again her sex quivers and tugs, hungrily clenching at your shaft every time you thrust against her middle body.
* Echoen clenches hir sexes, all three of them despite only two being plowed, groaning deeply as shi can from every available muzzle, huffing heavily from the pleasure that courses through all hir minds. Such a delicious excess of bat, brown and white alike, plenty of maleness driving deeply into hir pussies and deeper into yours. Hir flanks feel your hextauric body pushing against hir sides, pushing and pushing, simply so little space; the pleasure is in the slide. Seed erupts across the floor from hir shafts (and yours) as you triplesplit, mounting onto hir outer bodies to lavish hir rears and pussies with pink pillars of prodigious pleasure. Paws clutching, hips thrusting, each of our middlemost sets of male equipment showering the floor and bathing fur in seed. 
Echoen: Hir shaft slurps into your middle cunt while hir body hunches, driving forward, plunging a yard of battycock within your tunnels, spilling a nigh-endless load of seed within your womb and tunnel; most of it flushed back out by your hyperproduction of estrus. But where shi experiences the pleasure of loving one tauric rear and pussy, you experience two, pounding and ploughing hir fertile depths and filling hir out nearly as plush as you; the brown battyfox radiant with fertility. As you retain only two necks, hir three necks steeple with yours, a chorus of seven muzzles voicing out singsong-like at the pleasure we share.
Echoen:  For a long time we twist and grind, hump and thrust, plow and plunge... climax overtaking us so many times we lose count, the floor awash in seed and juice. Every ravaged taurbody swollen full, laden with life, gestating abundantly. Brown and white batties burgeoning in bellies, encouraging many heavy pairs of breasts to blossom in long columns down each set of tauric frames, to nourish what will likely be multiheaded, multibodied kits. Slowly, shi begins to disentangle from you, and after nearly twenty minutes more of simply writhing and sliding, we finally end up separated, staring into each other's eyes, holding many hands.

Avylin: Disentangle you may wish, but your multiplicitous mate doesn't let you get far, always there with a hand or a leg or a curling hindbody to keep you close, such that as things settle you're half beside her, half curled forward, such that our sixsome of hindquarters can rest behind us and her front can face your own. She's calmed down a bit, cocks softened and retreated, though each is much too hefty to withdraw completely- each lower body resting atop a layer of pink members, swathed not just in their sheaths but a plush foreskin that must have manifested when they were straining too much for it to show. Similarly her chestcocks have withdrawn, their tips crowning her breasts like the nipples they replaced. 
Avylin: She nuzzles happily with you, the V-shaped array of the twin faces atop her heads such that as she nuzzles one of your necks she can similarly nose along its neighbor, while a subtle shift a head brings another white batty face to bear on yours for a sweet kiss. Beneath her her body continues to swell with the life growing within- her center tummy heavy and bulging, such that it seems like her feet can barely touch the ground before long. Not only that, her outer bodies are likewise growing heavy and gravid- though you may not have mated them, her body, tuned to breeding as it has been, couldn't help but circulate your seed such that she's bearing a pregnant bulge along the underside of each hindquarters.
Avylin:  And it doesn't take long for that building potential to bear fruit, either... an hour spent with sweet whispered nothings and affectionate cuddling soon gives way to a moment of tension as the white batty'taur stiffens and gasps beside you, her fingers squeezing tight at your paws. Her swollen body twists, hindequarters grinding together, as her toes curle and crape their clawtips agianst a ground they can hardly reach; the drizzle of estrus from her sexes becomes a soft gush of fluids, then draws off. Slowly her middle sex yawns wide around the foxy face of a newborn bat creature- or is it three? 
Avylin: No, it seems it's one, a triple-headed stunner of a daughter who takes after her sire. And how! As she slides from her mother's sex, gasping for air and twisting about, a buxom chest is revealed, a narrow body rapidly resolving into feminine curves. She plants her forelegs against the floor as she pulls herself free, stretching out her arms and wings, while to either side, the 'taur's side bodies likewise begin to give birth. Each offspring is a bit different- one has two heads, a third four, a few have an extra pair of eyes, or paired sheaths tucked between their middle pair of legs, or their hindlegs.
Avylin: . And the variety continues to manifest as their mother's body remains swollen, wombs still full, her trio of daughters soon becoming a sixsome with a promise of more. Seems your fertility magic worked quite a number on the fruit bat- and as she twists against you, panting softly, her eyes shut tight, you can tell she's loving every moment of it.

* Echoen may have been soaked in sex and seed, love and pleasure, but from such physical exertions shi instead reeks of potent pheremones and a dire musk, a radiant example of pleasure and love, virility and fertility. Hir body seems intent on keeping you in a state of semipermanent arousal, tails featherdusting across sensative folds or swells, paws caressing bellies that with each pet seem larger than they were before, lips and tongues lavishing upon your multiplicious faces the same overabundance of affection. Along each of hir underbellies, hir pregnant tummies are lined with rows of blossomed breasts, as large as small beanbag chairs and much fuller and rounder, chocolate teats expressing copious volumes of milk despite the lack of hungry young mouths to nurse upon them. 
Echoen: Each of hir bellies swells gently forward moment by moment, dispersing your seed from hir outer bodies to hir inner and upper, excessive rivers of estrus flowing from hir sexes to create a slippery path for young to wriggle free. As you clench and gasp, shi is there for you, paws upon paws caressing your faces and necks, throats and chests, flanks and torsos, supporting you with affection (and a good bit of providing someone to lean on where it counts, when your knees go weak from pleasure), as kits slither free from your sexes. Shi gestates longer than you by a good five minutes, perhaps holding hirself back merely so shi may entirely focus on your birthing. But not much longer can shi withold hir brood of batties, wriggling forms that insist on meeting their sisters and mothers, brothers and fathers. 
Echoen: Quivvering, eyes clenching shut, moans trilling from deep in hir throats - hir sexes clench, hir juices pour waterfall like, and shi births three at a time. The first are the smallest, and abhorrently plain, three lithe cream-furred girls that slip almost effortlessly from hir sexes, displaying modest chests and clothable loins. They rise and open their eyes, smiling, turning about to assist with their next-born siblings, pushing their wingpaws deeply into their mother's pussies, to take hold of their siblings and pull them out. The next trio is twice as much as their older sisters, in every way but height. Two faces, two pairs of breasts and arms, and a lush tauric body with low-hanging sheaths stuffed full of cock.
Echoen:  They slide free and moan as they rise, helped by the simple batties - wait, when were there six of them? No, nine. The first-born batties are cloning themselves, replicating by effortlessly stepping away from themselves, two each upon their younger sisters, leaving one per battysex to reach in and help pull out the third set. These thirds are thrice the firstborn, with three heads, hextaur bodies, and prodigiously plump endowments. Each recieves a bounty of three eldest sisters to pull them away and make room for the fourth wave. Echoen gasps deeply, clenching your paws in hirs, as these ones are sizable - taking several moments to birth each one. 
Echoen: Laden not with a single hextaur body, these batties are excessively wide with four taurbodies all in a row, thankfully extending only one pair of paws deep, but as wide as they are long they are brutal to birth. Twenty-eight of the firstborn fill the room, attending their much larger sisters. Echoen flumps against you, exhausted, yet.... so immensly gravid still, for a fourth remains. Hir rearmost wombs fit the first and second litters, hir middle wombs fit the third, but the fourth litter... that was in hir forebelly, leaving it a mystery as to which taur section it will travel through, and just what will make up its features.
* Avylin 's litter might be abit leggier than yours, at least the first few, but there is a distinct family resemblence between the pair- a similar blend of chocolatey and black and white fur patterns, batty features that are a hybrid of differing species. There isn't just a family resemblance but a bit of family familiarity, too- as several of your mate's offspring take to pouncing their sisters with aim to carry on the batty fun. Hands and wings encircle nubile bodies, mottled pink and dark shafts are plunged into virgin sexes or eager mouths. A few of the plainer of your first few daughters are eagerly set upon by sisters who have inhereted a bit of a magic touch- and under those roving fingers and kissing lips, new limbs form and features double and triple, 
Avylin: the girls teased and pulled into exotic 'taur forms by sisters who just can't get enough of them. Still others experience a different process altogether- mounted by multi-featured batty taurs and steadily humped until soft bodies begin to catch and flow together, merging into combined forms that blend the multiplicitous features of each joined daughter. Bit by bit the crowd behind your mate and you is growing indistinct- it's not clear whose daughter is whose- and it doesn't help that Avy is still giving birth, 
Avylin: perhaps not as hurriedly as before, but still tense and gasping against your side as every minute or so each of her still-gravid hindbodies produces another eager offspring to join the gathering of unabated lust and shameless affection. It may be that whatever fertile magic your eager grinding infused your mate with may have gone a little far, but who's to argue with the pleasurable results?