For the last several years, Daryl had been completely and utterly obsessed with the color yellow, to the point of it becoming a fetish for him. He remembered one time while the group was on the road and he killed a walker wearing a yellow shirt. He became so aroused that immediately afterward, he told his companions he was off to take a piss before he left to go jack off.
It happened so long ago, long before the dead started walking, but Daryl vividly remembered every second.
Like Romeo and Juliet, Daryl locked eyes with his love across the room. They immediately knew they were soulmates, but they did not know that fate wouldn't be on their sides and they probably would never see each other again.
With this unspoken connection, they slowly approached each other until their faces were practically touching. Both were inexperienced and didn't know how to kiss properly, but they found each other's clumsy efforts endearing, and desire was burning in their bellies. They decided that this affair had to be consummated because if kissing felt so good, sex had to feel great!
Daryl wasn't about to take his sweet lover to any one of the skanky no-tell motels he knew were nearby, so Daryl just had to take him home. They wouldn't have to worry about being bothered since Merle was out serving time. Even though Daryl was embarrassed at the condition of the house, it was better than the alternative.
Merle's drug paraphernalia still littered the stained, off-white carpet, Playboy posters were crudely taped to the peeling walls, and there were even some piles of rat droppings.
"Hey, what's that?" Daryl's lover asked, pointing to a crack pipe on the floor.
"Nothing," Daryl lied, urging his lover through the door to his room. "Watch your head," he added. He was thankful that his partner didn't notice Merle's Confederate flag and ask about that, too.
Daryl's room was dirty and smelled like cigarette smoke, but it looked considerably less trashy than the rest of the house. His lover towered over him, so he had to stoop and Daryl had to stand on his tiptoes for them to press their lips together.
"You sure you want to do this?" Daryl asked.
"Yes, Daryl Dixon. I want you to make love to me."
The bed was lumpy and the sheets unwashed, but Daryl's lover didn't complain as the hunter settled on top of his immensely tall, yellow body and started kissing and sucking his neck.
"Oh, Daryl," he moaned, "I've never felt anything like this before."
"Mmm," Daryl replied around a mouthful of feathers. He crawled down Big Bird's body until he was face-to-face with his feathery, lemon-colored groin, but something seemed to be missing.
"Uh, Big Bird?"
"Yes?"
"Where's your…uh…you know…weenie?"
"Oh, um…I don't have one because I am a bird. We do everything through our cloacas."
Daryl stared in confusion, but Big Bird raised his legs so his bottom was exposed and used his wings to part his feathers until an opening that looked very much like an anus was fully revealed.
Daryl located his half-empty bottle of lube and carefully poured a good amount onto Big Bird's cloaca. One finger slid in easily. Daryl was vaguely reminded of preparing a Thanksgiving turkey, but he pushed that thought away.
Big Bird didn't seem to be in any discomfort, but Daryl noticed he wasn't responding like it was insanely pleasurable, either. Maybe he couldn't feel it.
Daryl added two more fingers and pumped then in and out with a bit more force. He admittedly wasn't the most well-endowed man in the world, so it probably felt pretty similar to the real thing. He also quickly discovered that birds did not have prostates.
"That okay?" Daryl asked. Big Bird's lack of a penis did create some obstacles, but nothing they couldn't work through with good communication. They were soulmates, after all.
Big Bird nodded and stretched his wings toward Daryl's crotch. Daryl released his member from its tightie-whitie prison. There was a moment of silence between in which Daryl panicked internally, fearing Big Bird's reaction.
The redneck was relieved when his feathered lover finally breathed out, "Wow, Daryl. I've never seen one up close before. May I touch it?"
Daryl nodded, his heart pounding furiously. Big Bird's great yellow wing shyly started to stroke all three inches of his erect length. The sensation of feathers teasing his most sensitive part had Daryl feeling like this party would be over all too soon, so he told Big Bird to stop.
"I am far too titillated, Big Bird. I need to bury my snuffle in your upagus."
Big Bird assumed the position and presented his well-stretched cloaca to Daryl. Seeing that his partner was ready, Daryl filled the winking, waiting, multipurpose orifice with all of his three inches.
"Ooh, Daryl! That feels so good!"
Daryl had to compensate for his lack of length and girth somehow, so he fucked Big Bird's ass as hard as he could with what he had, sending yellow feathers spiraling to the sheets.
"This isn't how we get to Sesame Street!" Big Bird shouted as the force of Daryl's thrusts made the whole bed shake. He was enjoying having his cloaca owned, though.
When Daryl came, he was loud about it, to the point that pictures fell off the walls. He thought that screaming his orgasm would help him produce a bigger load, but only a few dribbles came out and oozed into Big Bird's body. It was one more drop than normal, though.
Daryl pulled his flaccid manhood out of Big Bird's cloaca. All three inches retracted back into Daryl's body, leaving his crotch almost as smooth as a Ken Doll's, his genitals comprised of a dormant diq the size of a fingernail and a pair of testicles the size of two blueberries. The two lovers held each other and went to sleep.
When Daryl woke up the next morning, Big Bird was nowhere to be found. He had to go back to Sesame Street, after all.
From that day on, all Daryl had to remember Big Bird by was the handful of feathers he shed while they were consummating their love. Even after the world ended and the dead started walking, Daryl Dixon carried one yellow feather around with him, in his back pocket.
After Daryl's one-night stand with Big Bird, he fell into a toxic cycle of drinking, smoking, and having sex with lonely junkie whores that showed up at his house, looking for Merle and dope. Sure enough, Daryl got crabs for his efforts to fill the emptiness in his soul from Big Bird's absence. The nasty little buggers had been living in his groinal region for what Daryl felt was upwards of eight years now, because there was no way for him to keep track of time in the zombie apocalypse, and he was never good at counting anyway. He always intended to find a doctor who would help him with his problem, but all the post-apocalyptic doctors kept on dying: Hershel, Doctor S from the prison, Denise, and both the Carsons.
Until Siddiq, of course.
Daryl was tired of having his ass, taint, marble-sized balls, and three-inch dick bitten daily by the crabs in his crotch, so he begged Siddiq for help, beyond the point of caring that this gorgeous specimen of a man would be seeing his sad micropenis. Siddiq agreed and told Daryl that he was confident he could vanquish the almost decade-long crab infestation, but he would need to gather some things first.
Daryl waited in Siddiq's medical trailer, feeling nervous but excited to finally have his crabs exterminated. He was worried that he would miss the colony of venereal vermin that had been holding his crotch and body prisoner for all these years, like he had a touch of Stockholm syndrome.
The trailer door opened. Daryl's heart dropped, and his three-incher got so hard that Siddiq could tap people's knees with it and check their reflexes.
The doctor was dressed head-to-toe in a bright yellow hazmat suit. His beautiful face was covered by a mask like the one the Hilltop's blacksmith wore. There was no question as to whether or not fire would be involved because Siddiq was carrying a flamethrower. Daryl whipped his pants and underwear off as quickly as he could. Who wouldn't be so eager to have a handsome man dressed in yellow shoot fire at their crabs?
It wasn't like Daryl had never tried to conquer his crabs with his assplosives, because he had, but there would always be more of the little fuckers to replace the ones he incinerated. Siddiq lifted his mask to give Daryl's pubic region a closer look.
"You have 237 crabs living on your genitals, Mister Dixon," he said after a while. A handful of crabs had migrated to Daryl's thigh. Siddiq brushed them off, an invisible drop of precum beading at the tip of Daryl's fiddlestick at the contact.
The crabs fell to the floor. Siddiq stepped on them. They were Emma, Tasha, Dani, Carrie, Jill, Justin, and Hugh. Sometimes, when Daryl was alone in his cupboard at night, he would name his crabs.
Down to 230 crabs to take care of on Daryl's junk, Siddiq started the process of blasting fire between Daryl's legs, causing the crabs to scatter, and then crushing them under his heavy fireman's boot. He'd really upped the protective gear since he was dealing with Daryl.
Daryl orgasmed the first time after thirty or so crabs had been killed, then again after a hundred crabs were gone, then a third time after three-quarters of the pests were vanquished. Luckily, Siddiq didn't seem to be paying any attention to Daryl's sad excuse for a cock, too focused on the task at hand, and the rest of the crabs were removed and squished with ease.
Daryl's pubes were singed, but he thanked Siddiq for getting rid of his crab infestation.
"No problem, dude," Siddiq replied, unzipping his hazmat suit, and Daryl shuddered and squirted another puny drop of dinky juice on the ground at the sight. Siddiq put the yellow garment away, much to Daryl's disappointment. The doctor was wearing one of Rick's shirts. Go figure.
Siddiq paused, glanced at the droplets on the floor, and up at the ceiling of the trailer.
"Uh oh. I think there's a leak."
Daryl breathed a sigh of relief, but the joke was on him.
Siddiq knew.
It was a few days after his crabs were conquered, and Daryl was getting more and more turned on by the second. He was listening to Rick, Michonne, and Siddiq getting it on…again. It happened every night and every morning, if not more. It got to the point where he had to pleasure himself the only way he knew how...anal stuffing.
Rick, Michonne, and Siddiq were too busy breaking more headboards to realize Daryl had made his way upstairs. He couldn't bring himself to interrupt the threeway sex session because the three of them were having too much fun. Because all the toys were in there, Daryl had to browse somewhere else.
The bathroom! Daryl thought to himself as a lightbulb appeared over his head. He walked inside and instantly spotted a rubber duckie. It was Judith's.
Meh, she won't know, Daryl thought. Once he was done, he'd wash it and put it back, so no one would get suspicious or suspect a thing. The noises from the bedroom intensified.
"Fuck me harder, Rick, OH MY GOD…"
"Suck me faster, Michonne baby..."
"Oh, Siddiq, you're the hottest doctor I've ever seen!"
Trying not to squirt out like a tiny mayonnaise bottle right then and there, Daryl went back downstairs. The rubber duckie inspired him to do something he hadn't done in a very long time: take a bath.
The screams from the bedroom were turning him on even more so as soon as his bath was ready, he decided to sing his own take on Ernie's Rubber Duckie song from Sesame Street.
"Rubber duckie, you're the one, time to have lots of fun, I'm so horny I could swear, so up you go my magic derrière!"
Daryl began to multitask, pumping his miniscule dick with one hand as though he were using a penis pump to make it bigger, while he pushed the rubber duckie up his behind with his other hand.
"OH SWEET BABY, FUCKING JESUS," he screamed. His three-incher was rock hard and he couldn't stop swearing. "Fuck, my cocktail sausage, oh my God!"
"Shit, my caboose! Motherdicking fuck, I love you big time, duckie!" With those words, Daryl released his tiny load like his little dinky was a tiny water gun.
Rick, Michonne, and Siddiq finished their session by painting the walls white and proceeded to go shower. They made their way to the bathroom, not realizing Daryl was in there, and Daryl didn't realize they were finished, either. Rick opened the door.
"Jesus! Fuck, Daryl!" Rick shouted as he shot up into Siddiq's arms like Scooby-Doo to Shaggy when he sees a ghost. Being just as startled, Daryl's ass sucked up the rubber duckie like a suction plunge.
"Goddammit, Rick, knock next time!" Daryl cried. Michonne gave him side-eye and whipped him hard for being in the bathroom way beyond his hours. She didn't care he was naked, as he had spent nights with them before. Siddiq gave Daryl his Diq face and grabbed his towel and left the bathroom, kissing Rick's cheek on the way out to say sorry.
Daryl stared at Siddiq's bare butterscotch booty as the doctor walked away. Michonne whipped him again.
As Rick, Michonne, and Siddiq finally took their shower so they could get on with their day, Daryl got dressed and headed out on a supply run. However, he completely forgot that the rubber duckie had swam up his anal canal until he sat on his motorcycle and heard a squeak.
The fuck? Daryl thought to himself. Well, shit, he realized as he remembered the squeaking bath toy in his rectum. He hoped Rick, Michonne, and Siddiq didn't notice it missing from the bathroom.
The day passed and it got to dinner time. Siddiq made them jalapeño stew again. It was Daryl's favorite. Everyone, including Judith, was sitting around the table waiting for Daryl, when he strolled in squeaking.
"Made your favorite," said Siddiq with a smile. He was wearing a "Kiss the Cook" apron, because of course he was.
Daryl sat down to join them, but as soon as his heinie hit the chair, he let out a massive squeak! Everyone stared at him, looking shocked and displeased.
"Just eat the fucking stew!" Judith yelled in her little three-year-old voice.
Daryl's ass squeaked a few more times, until Rick finally had to say, "Goshdarnit, Daryl, what did I tell you about controlling your bottom at the table?" He was trying not to say ass in front of Judith.
"Sorry," Daryl said, "it's just…"
Before he could say anything more, his booty went SQUEEAAAK! QUACK! SQUEAK!
Judith immediately dropped her spoon. She knew just what that sound was and looked at Daryl like Side-Eyeing Chloe. For someone so young, she knew exactly where the duck was. Rick, Siddiq, and Michonne were starting to get suspicious, too.
"Did I just hear a duck?" Michonne asked.
"No," Daryl responded, looking around like he had no clue as to what she was talking about. Out cracked another squeak, and then Siddiq and Rick looked him and demanded what was up.
"I don't know! There's a fucking duck in this house!" Daryl couldn't bring himself to admit he shoved a rubber duck up his caboose, only because it was Judith's. But, the little girl already knew. Daryl squeaked again and she lost it. She lobbed her spoon at Daryl's head, and then her bowl.
"Judith, sweetie, what was that for?" Michonne said. Judith had a look on her face just like the look she gave Negan.
"Duck. Arse."
"What!?" said Rick, spitting his food out.
"Duck. Arse!" Judith pointed at Daryl for emphasis. His face started to get red, because jalapeños did not agree with him and his caboose. He couldn't hold it in any longer, so his super-charged jalapeño assplosives caused him to shoot up into the ceiling, his feet dangling down. The rubber duckie fell out of his derrière and landed smack bang in the middle of the table.
At that moment, everything made sense to Rick, Siddiq, and Michonne. Rick said to Judith, "Good girl for throwing your food and cutlery at Uncle Daryl. He did something really naughty. Daddy is proud, Judy."
"I'm really sorry! Can I get some help up here, please?" Daryl shouted.
Siddiq went and got his gigantic suction plunge from the bedroom. It was for emergencies just in case what went up Rick's arse couldn't come out. He got Daryl free from the ceiling, but then walked outside with Daryl still attached to the end of the suction plunge. He dumped the assplosive fiend on the ground.
"You ruined dinner," said Siddiq, with his famous Diq face.
"I'm sorry, I should've known better. Judith's toys are off limits. It's just that you guys get me really turned on." Daryl stared ruefully into Siddiq's beautiful brown eyes.
"Well, if you ask politely we might let you join, but what you did was very naughty, so no anal delight for you, Daryl Dixon. You sleep outside tonight." Siddiq went back into the house and locked the door.
It was the morning after the now-infamous rubber duck dinner, the wholesome family meal that was ruined thanks to Daryl stuffing Judith's bath toy in his rectum and trying to hide it, and Rick, Michonne, and Siddiq planned to spend the new day surfing and having fun at the beach.
After their usual three-way sausage, bacon, and mayo McMuffin breakfast fucking, they got themselves ready to go to the beach. Siddiq and Rick wore matching sunglasses, shirts that said "I Love Neapolitan Threesomes!", shorts, and crocs. Michonne wore the same shirt as her lovers, but complemented her outfit with super-tight short shorts that showcased her perfect butt, and a pair of flip flops that sounded like Daryl's squeaking bottom every time she took a step. They all packed their boards and yellow wetsuits and as they walked past Daryl, he couldn't help but quiver at the thought of seeing them in tight yellow suits, showing off their goodies. Too bad he was a dick at dinner…literally.
They dropped Judith off at Aaron's so she could play with baby Gracie for the day, and off they went. Daryl was ordered to stay in his cupboard for the day to reflect.
Rick, Michonne, and Siddiq got to the beach and found a nice, secluded spot. They all stripped naked as quickly as possible. They couldn't wait to get their yellow wetsuits on, and as they changed, they once again got turned on by each other's hot sexy bodies. They just wanted to get wet…in the water, and to get their surf on.
For some inexplicable reason, Rick was a surfing expert, and he taught his lovers well, like how Siddiq educated them on how to give prostate exams. They were filled with so much excitement, a different kind of excitement than what they were normally used to.
"You guys look so fucking good," Rick said, biting his lip and letting out a little moan after he saw them in their skin-tight, yellow wetsuits.
"As do you," Siddiq and Michonne said in unison, spanking Rick's already flattened arse, resulting in it flattening even more. Rick kissed them both, and they all grabbed their boards to go into the water.
The three of them were holding hands, Michonne and Siddiq on either side of Rick. Because he was that much of a pro, Rick used his board to skate down the beach, and the whole scene looked like some new reinformed shit from Baywatch. Michonne's balloons were jiggling and her arse was bouncing up and down and Rick and Siddiq's delicious-looking lollipops were waggling like a dog's tail.
However, little did they know that Daryl had snuck out to watch them at the beach, and he saw everything as he peeped at them from behind a rock. But to him, they had all formed into an even bigger Big Bird, the size of three Big Birds. This made him super erect, but he was sure they wouldn't notice them, even though he knew he couldn't get caught again. If he was, they would surely force him to stay outside even longer, but he seemed to do just fine living outside and anyway, he was probably better suited to a life among bugs and dirt than life indoors. As long as he didn't get crabs again.
Rick, Michonne, and Siddiq were riding the waves and doing some tricks. Daryl was mesmerized and was jerking himself off. Yellow was his favorite color, but he couldn't get the thought of Big Bird out of his mind so he went back to picturing them as him so he would get off faster.
Rick, Michonne, and Siddiq were finished with their surfing session, so they came back to their secret spot. Due to the very sheer material of their saturated wetsuits, Daryl could see their goodies as clear as day. It made him squirt like a Frubes yogurt, and the specks landed on Siddiq's head.
"Fuck me, is it already raining?" he said, looking up.
Michonne chucked and replied, "No, beautiful. It's probably your wet hair you felt."
"Wait till you feel this!" Rick burped, laughing. He pulled out three dildo-shaped water pistols and squirted Siddiq right in the mouth with one, turning him on straight away. Michonne grabbed a water dildo and stuck it between her legs, squirting Rick in the crotch with it. Rick's tallywhacker shot up like a skyscraper and was instantly stabilized in a rigid position. Siddiq snuck up behind Michonne and squirted his water pistol between her perfectly shaped, peachy asscheeks.
The three of them were having so much fun, they decided to end their day by having beach sex. They all unzipped each other and got to work. Michonne used both of her hands to perform prostate examinations on Rick and Siddiq as they fucked her from front and back. The formation looked like a deformed octopus, but it turned Daryl on, again.
As the four of them started to hit climax, Daryl screamed in an extremely high-pitched voice, "BIG BIIIIRRRRRD!" When he got too excited and vocal in the throes of passion, his lil wiener often made him lose his voice.
The threesome was aware that there were seabirds flying around, so they weren't surprised to hear someone scream about a big bird, but they didn't recognize the voice or realize it was Daryl. They figured there was a big bird flying after someone, and there was. It was a fat-ass pelican coming after Daryl because it thought his cocktail sausage was its midday snack. Birds just apparently like Daryl.
Rick, Michonne, and Siddiq finally all released their loads, too. Due to their odd position and the combined force of their simultaneous orgasms, they were launched into the air like they were on a whale's blowhole. They saw the unfamiliar sight of a pelican attacking Daryl, but to them it just looked like a pelican wanting to mate with another bird. Daryl didn't exactly look like a scrubbed up human.
Poor thing, they all thought, that pelican's persistent.
They came back down to earth and let out a massive sigh. It was just so good.
After an amazing day, the threesome packed up their stuff, got dressed, and headed back to Alexandria. Meanwhile, Daryl was getting chased by a flock of pelicans like Harry and Marv getting attacked by pigeons in Central Park in Home Alone Two.
Fuck me, I'm so staying home next time, Daryl thought.
After Daryl ruined dinner with his jalapeño caboose and the rubber duck he stuffed inside of it, and peeped on his housemates at the beach, he knew he would have to be on his best behavior, because Rick, Siddiq, and Michonne were known to punish him for extreme naughtiness by making him sleep outside for a week. Daryl didn't want that to happen again, so he did his best to be a good and obedient boy. He helped make dinner, he played with Judith, he babysat Gracie for Aaron, he even emptied Negan's doo-doo bucket when he was asked and best of all, he was assplosive-free for over a week!
Rick, Siddiq, and Michonne were impressed by Daryl's good behavior, so they decided it was time he received a special reward.
"Meet us in the bedroom tomorrow night," Rick said, winking at Daryl. As Rick walked off with Siddiq and Michonne, his hands on their butts, Daryl released a tiny fart of excitement. It sparked out of his keister like a pint-sized firework, but(t) luckily, no one but(t) Daryl noticed.
Daryl spent the night and the following day eagerly anticipating what he hoped would be a hot foursome between him and his housemates. He did all his chores and before he knew it, it was nighttime. He cleared the table and did the dishes after dinner, because he was still a good manslave, then used a baby wipe to clean his armpits and made his way to the bedroom.
He knocked on the perpetually-locked door, buzzing with excitement. Siddiq opened it for him and Daryl was mesmerized, again.
The doctor was shirtless, as was typical for him, his six-pack abs on full display. He was wearing a stethoscope around his neck and latex gloves and had a speculum in his hand. His underpants were skin-tight and bright blue, and Daryl could clearly see the outline of his diq in there. It looked like a real goodie and Daryl's cocktail sausage started to chub up.
"My eyes are up here, Daryl," Siddiq told him. Daryl had been staring at his junk for the last thirty seconds. Before the redneck could say anything, Siddiq grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him through the door.
Daryl barely had time to take in the appearance of the bedroom – it looked like something out of Fifty Shades of Grey – before he was shoved onto the bed. The headboard was splintered and looked to be on its last leg, but Daryl expected to see that. The bed wasn't large enough to fit four people, but Rick, Siddiq, and Michonne didn't seem to care as they joined Daryl. They started passionately making out, which escalated into heavy petting and grinding, and Daryl was on the verge of getting crushed under them, but he didn't mind, even though he was unsure of what they wanted him to do. He kept on getting poked by Rick and Siddiq's diqs – sadly, Daryl knew this was accidental – and Mr. Tiny was getting very excited and was craving attention he wasn't receiving.
Daryl was about to ask if he could at least kiss one of them when, looking at the lovers, he saw something completely different than a moaning, sweating, writhing human version of Ben & Jerry's Vanilla Caramel Fudge ice cream.
Yellow feathers. Yellow feathers everywhere. All Daryl could see was his love, Big Bird, and shocked, he said his name out loud louder than he meant to.
"Big Bird?!"
Daryl's voice was drowned out by a positively pornographic moan/scream from Rick as Siddiq filled his tuchas with his ten-incher. They did some configuring until Siddiq was flat on his back and Rick was stretched on top of him with his back pressed against Siddiq's abs. It was sandwich time.
"Daryl, do they have some kind of disease?" Big Bird sounded worried. "Their wee-wees are huge! They're like Snuffy's snuffle!"
Daryl was awed by Rick's own tremendous, titanic tallywhacker as Michonne slid it into her twitty twat.
"Ricky Dicky Doo Dog Grimes is king!" Rick declared. He was in his favorite place in the world, a Siddiq and Michonne sandwich. He'd already forgotten about Daryl.
Rick burped in surprise as Michonne flipped them over so Siddiq was on top, his colossal caramel crotch cannon still buried in Rick's pancake caboose. Even though Daryl wasn't participating as he was holding onto the sheets for dear life so he wouldn't get buffeted off the bed, he was staring at them like an unblinking china doll, and it was making Siddiq uncomfortable. Rick and Michonne weren't bothered, though, since they relished in PDA before this threesome was a thing, so they didn't have a problem with fucking in front of Daryl. But(t) Siddiq wasn't acting like himself and was quieter than usual, so Michonne decided she had to do something about that.
"You know, doctors need prostate exams, too."
"What's a prostate exam?" Big Bird wondered as Michonne sucked two of her fingers, reached up, groped Siddiq's ass and stuck them inside.
"Fuck, holy shit, yes, please, fuck." Siddiq squirmed and cursed and moaned, seemingly forgetting he was supposed to be fucking Rick.
"Naughty language!" Big Bird gasped.
"Hey! I'm trying to get fucked here!" Rick complained indignantly. He always got the shaft. In more ways than one.
"I'm trying my best!" Siddiq insisted. "It's not my fault Michonne can't stop fiddling with our asses – fuuuuuuuck."
"You're getting the speculum next time, pretty boy."
"Me first!" Rick blurted.
"Yes, ma'am – Bismillah, oh fuck, ma'am, right there, please, ma'am."
"What's a speculum?" Big Bird asked. He was still standing in the corner, but only Daryl could see him.
Daryl was going to offer to pay Rick's ass a visit with Mr. Tiny, but Michonne seemed to know what he was thinking.
"You know that tiny dick can't satisfy anyone, Daryl."
It can satisfy Big Bird, Daryl thought. Her words were mean but they turned him on. Damn humiliation fetish. He knew better than to mention Big Bird aloud, though, as he was still experiencing visions of his great love and he was the only one who could see him.
Michonne was worried she hurt Daryl's feelings. "You know what, Daryl, why don't you put your little friend into Rick's mouth?" She was still giving Siddiq occasional prostate tickles, making him giggle and squeal like a little girl.
Daryl jumped at that opportunity. He looked down at Big Bird, who eagerly opened his beak to take all of Daryl's three inches.
"Big Bird is king!" the Sesame Street character shouted, his voice barely muffled by the tiny dinky in his mouth. Big Bird had sprouted a ten-inch dick, and it was buried inside of Michonne, and Siddiq was stuffing his cloaca full and Big Bird was loving the feeling of having his lone orifice invaded by a ginormous dong.
In reality, Rick was getting triple-teamed and was having the time of his life, and he fellated Daryl's little willy with all the effort he could muster – after all, it wouldn't be fair to leave Daryl hanging. It wasn't Daryl's fault he was barely endowed. Rick could do without the stench of swamp ass so close to his nose, though.
Eventually, everyone was getting ready to blow their fluids.
"Oh my God!" Big Bird yelled in pleasure and terror around Daryl's itsy bitsy teenie weenie, as Siddiq blasted the walls of his cloaca repeatedly with spurt after spurt of incredibly impressive amounts of tasty sauce. By the time he was done, there was so much in there that it could be possible for Big Bird to let it solidify and push it out weeks later in the form of a humongous ostrich egg. Michonne started to explode everywhere, too. Her lady fluids soaked Big Bird's feathers like he was standing under the Niagara Falls, and he was enjoying being baptized in the name of the Samurai so much that before he knew it, he was ejaculating, too! Not that he had a cock, apart from in Daryl's fantasies, but Rick did.
"Here comes my love potion number nine!" Rick announced as his dingy-ding got ready to erupt. It shook and trembled, and then it was semen time. The white stuff came shooting out with all the force and quantity of all the sprinklers on a massive country club lawn for rich people. Daryl farted little sparks and orgasmed, too, just a few dribbles as usual, but he done fucked up.
"OH, BIG BIRD!"
His yell of ecstasy interrupted his lovers' post-orgasmic haze. Three pairs of eyes looked at him in shock, anger, and confusion. Daryl didn't have time to explain or defend himself before they hauled him out of the room by his limbs and carried him through the door. They dumped him in the cool night grass and locked the door and the windows so there was no chance he'd sneak back in.
Alas, Daryl had to sleep outside for a week. They never talked about the foursome again.
Negan woke up in his cell to a strange and unexpected sight. A large egg was sitting in the corner. He didn't know if it was his breakfast or something else, so he walked over to it and gave it a poke. It jumped and he jumped.
Two small human feet burst out of the bottom of the egg!
"What the shit?!" Negan shouted as it came scuttling towards him like Mumble's birth in Happy Feet. He got out of the way as it smashed into the wall and the eggshell burst into little pieces.
The creature that emerged from the mess of eggshell shards made Negan doo-doo in his pants, just a little.
It was a baby bird of some sort, but with feet like a newborn baby. Its body was covered with yellow feathers and it had a pair of tiny fluttering wings. The most disturbing feature of all was its face. Its face was an exact miniaturized replica of Daryl Dixon's.
The devil spawn toddled towards Negan on its baby feet. He looked in vain for any kind of possible exit in his cell. Negan pounded on the walls in terror after the hatchling's wings had dried enough for it to take flight and it started flying around the cell like a maniac, as though it was powered by assplosives.
It was.
Sparks shot out from under its tail as it flew around and rained down to the ground, burning tiny holes in the floor of the cell.
Am I hugh af? Negan wondered as he darted from corner to corner to try to escape the little beast that was buzzing around his head and tormenting him. He knew he couldn't avoid the mutant, and it eventually backed him into one of the corners.
"What do you want from me?!" Negan demanded, slowly sliding down to the floor with his back against the wall as the Daryl-bird-thing flew right up to his face. Negan thought to himself, this is how it all ends.
It farted.
