Chapter Text
Somebody's tooth's about to be knocked out since Stitch's wildin' out. None of the two condoms he'd bought could fit his alien dong—not that he could last two rounds, but more like the fact that he had two blue, furry penises attached to his crotch. He just learned a valuable lesson today: Never order condoms from Temu. They break almost every time. But hey, he's an alien, he didn't know any better. Next time, he'll hit up Shein and hope for better-quality rubber. For now though, Lilo's taking it raw since Stitch's podcast money was running short.
Stitch had been Lilo's BFF for years. But for the little extraterrestrial, friendship alone just wasn't enough. He longed for more. Something deeper, and warmer and smellier. He desired Lilo as a lover, waifu, a full-time butt-bimbo. Stitch had always fantasized he could roll over in bed, press his morning hard-on against her back, then grab a handful of that sweet Hawaiian fat before stuffing his double dongs inside Lilo's lil ol' hole. Because in his twisted little mind, Lilo wasn't just his friend; but a potential onahole—or as the people of Hawaii liked to call it, ohanahole. Stitch could imagine it now, his dicks so deep in the uterus Lilo will be moaning in Haka.
Today, Stitch's fetish might become a reality for he's gonna ask for Lilo's hand in marriage. Seal her fate as his bitch. Why he's wasting money on condoms instead of a wedding ring? That's just the fact of the culture from where he's from.
Stitch went downstairs where his friends at. Jumba Jookiba was in his element—being mortally obese, and poorly managing his discord server while simultaneously touching his fifty-inch jumbo Jookiba to Disney Junior on TV. Meanwhile, Pleakley's trans ass can be found dead with a massive hole on the back of his head.
"Aloha Famil—I mean, Ohanas!" greeted Stitch. "What's Pleakley's problem?"
"He's a transvestite... Take a wild guess." replied Jumba, eyes still fixed on Sofia the First.
After a double take, Stitch finally noticed the shotgun clutched in Pleakley's hands. "Lmao! J.K Rowling gotta see this!" He snapped a shot of Pleakley's rotting corpse with his new iPhone 16 pro max. Only to lose it instantly after folding it by accident—an old habit from the 2000s when flip phones were a thing. "Anywho, have you seen the sweetest, tubbiest, three-foot-tall Polynesian princess around?"
"The who?"
"Very weird of you to randomly mention a band from the 60s, Jumba."
"Quit fucking with me, you little shit!" Jumba balled his fist so tight it bit flesh. "Get straight to the point! Can't you see I'm turbo wanking here!?"
"Lilo! I'm looking for my baby, Lilo!"
"Gone." said Jumba. "Osama Bin Laden took her. He happened to be in the neighborhood."
"Osama WHAT!!!" Stitch flipped out. "W-What business does he have being in Hawaii of all places? And why're you down here acting like this is normal!?"
Jumba shrugged. Honestly, he didn't mind Lilo's annoying ass not being around—she smells a lot anyway.
Stitch couldn't focus well. "W-W-Where's Nani? Wasn't she supposed to protect my darling angel?"
"Stuck in the toilet." Jumba answered. "Someone swapped the razors for her balls and her poonani, and now she won't come out until she figures which one to use on her hairy nutsack."
Stitch couldn't process what's happening. Since when did Nani have balls? Is she a shemale or something? How could he have missed that during all those hot swimsuit scenes. He's starting to doubt the credibility of this fanfic he's in. "Oh God! And what's next? Osama's gonna force Lilo into suicide bombing herself?"
"Relax, 626! She's safe." Jumba consoled. "Mr. Laden said something about taking her to Mecca. As far as I know, that's the only place where Muslims don't spontaneously explode."
"And where is this Mecca located?"
"How should I know, I just got to this planet. All I know is that there's a giant cube there."
"Cube you say?" Stitch had an epiphany. There's only one place where such things could exist. He should know—Lilo brought it up every chance she got because she's a retarded Minecraft kid.
Blitzing out, Stitch left to book a flight to the world of Minecraft.
Alone and calmed, Jumba finally relaxed his fist, only to find his fat cock dented into an imprint of his knuckles. "Fuck my life..."
Mid-flight, Stitch dozed off, waking up to see he missed his stop. With no choice, he yeeted himself outta the plane. Redbull gives you wings. He crash-landed in the Minecraft overworld, and wouldn't you know it, Bin Laden's there, chilling with Lilo. His hunch was correct!
"Well spread my cheeks and fuck me silly!" Stitch expressed his surprise.
"What?" said Osama.
"What?" Stitch bewildered too by his own words. Also why's he speaking in perfect English? Shouldn't he be talking like an autist or something? He quickly corrected that error, "I mean, meega nala kweesta!"
"Did you just call me a slur?" That angered the terrorist.
"Forget it!" waved off Stitch. "Why Osama take Lilo from Stitch!"
The Muslim straightened and cleared his throat. "I, Osama Bin Laden, sovereign of al-Qaeda, am the divinely anointed reincarnation of the Prophet Muhammad. As foretold by legend, it is my sacred duty to claim a bride of suitable age—preferably below ten years old."
"Naga-takabah! Osama lie!" denounced Stitch.
"It says so in the Quran! Behold!" The Arab spread the holy book and pointed to the so-called "sacred passage"—which was clearly handwritten in the blank endpaper.
"Osama write that hisself!" Stitch saw through the scam.
"Ikhras!" said the man of terror. "Allah wills it! Lilo and Stitch is now mine!" Osama thought "And Stitch" was Lilo's last name. Then, He went through the process of removing Lilo's red dress that actually started out white before twelve menstruation cycles stained it red. Lilo doesn't wear napkins nor change clothes.
"Aggaba, Fiend!" Stitch transformed into his true, four-armed form as he reared up an attack.
Osama unveiled something beneath his thawb: a suicide vest! "You might wanna choose your actions very carefully if I were you! Step closer and we all go kaboom-boom!"
Stitch forgot how suicidal sand-people are. He resorted to peace talks but it's impossible to reason with radical extremists. They will die for their beliefs. If Stitch wanted Lilo back, he must make Osama reject his religion. Make him sin. And with Stitch's next move, Osama's about to sin in ways he'd never imagined.
Stitch started to do a tease dance. He ran his hands across his body, sensually touching his sweaty sensitive spots.
"W-What are you doing?" asked the jihadist. "Why's this turning me on!?"
Stitch didn't answer. He was in his own homoerotic world, sexually strip teasing chest hair after chest hair. Toned and oily human pecs and abs revealed themselves. Osama's jaw touched the ground at the sight. Stitch looked like super Saiyan 4 Goku only hotter! Then Stitch did pole dancing. The pole being one of his throbbing Johnsons, his tallest and stiffest.
"Hubba Hubba!" Osama's eyes zeroed in on that dick, like Flight 175 heading for the second tower. He was steaming now, layers of Islamic clothing not helping his situation. What was Stitch doing to him? He's beginning to get a chub! His dick unsheathing its cock hijab. Stitch's hot body actually awakened a gayness within him that Islam couldn't, even with all the bending over. Soon, Osama did some stripping of his own. Bomb vest removed, his sweaty and hairy bear mode body reeked of expired hummus and shawarma oil. The smell even knocked out Lilo.
"Oh, Stitch... Lube that pole with your sticky wet balls! Yeah just like that! I can hear the wet friction from here! UGH!" Osama murmured to himself, two finger-joints up his ass. He started masturbating like a woman, rubbing up and down against the stitch line of his scrotum. Osama couldn't stop himself. Every part of him must be pleased! Eventually, he found himself swiping precum and rubbing it on his hairy nipples, as he fantasized sucking Stitch's schlongs to the hilt they come out his nostrils like the tusks of a walrus.
Stitch grinded himself against the pipe, basically jerking himself off. A pro he was at this, so elegant and masterful. That was until his performance was ruined when his pole slipped and toppled over because of precum build-up at the tip. "Shit!" Stitch crashed. The impact stimulated him and he burst into ejaculation.
Osama caught cum drops with his tongue and gulped them greedily. Gallons splashed his beard and he experienced bathing for the first time since his baptism a hundred years ago.
In the meantime, Stitch closed in, grasped Bin Laden by his child-bearing hips and yanked him closer. "Come here, dirty dusty man!"
Their dry lips smacked together. It was very gay and passionate. Tongues worked overtime, licking each other's veneers and passing around tonsil stones. Then Stitch put his four arms to good use: one jerked Osama's cawk, two for cradling each balls and the remaining one to fist his bunghole.
Being new at this, Osama's first instinct was to copy whatever Stitch was doing, his hands fondled two of Stitch's testicles. But Stitch's balls doubled his, so the rest of the nuts were played by his feet.
Stitch's tongue left Osama's mouth so he could moan. Osama really took good care of his nugs. "Ooh... Morcheebaaa~" Then it dragged down to lap Osama's brown nipples, tasting salt because the terrorist wiped precum there earlier.
Hairs all over Osama stood on end. They're highly sensitive, his nips, and they've never been licked before. He'd tried to but couldn't reach them. His head limped and rested on Stitch's shoulders. He then whispered in Stitch's ear, "Stitch, baby... Please! I want you to shove a stick of dynamite up my ass!"
Apparently, terrorists love that kind of shit.
Stitch was all for it, and he got a prime view of Osama offering him his sexy, sandy booty. Osama's asshole was eager, quivering, popping open and close along with the terrorist's heavy breathing. Also it had a five o' clock shadow. "Wow! Fluffy Patookie! Fluffy patookie”
"Say what? Fluffy!? Aww, I just shaved last night..." said Osama devastated. "Look, if it's not your thing, you don't have t—"
"Shhh..." Stitch shut Osama off, tracing a finger down his ass bristles. "Stitch like fuzz..."
The blue alien was everything a homo could ever want. Osama wanted to cry, but that show signs of weakness so he didn't. He pursed his lips as he slowly threw his ass back. His asshole gaped. "Stitch... My butt is ready."
Stitch removed a dynamite from the bomb vest and forcefully jammed it dry into Osama's willing hole.
"Mashallaaaaah!!" Panted the terrorist.
The dynamite forced its way through Osama's piles as Stitch twisted it deeper like he was screwing in a lightbulb.
Bin Laden could grow a whole forest with all his sweat. He's getting close. His insides, his pleasure spots lit up every time Stitch nudged and wrenched the explosive. Each pull nearly turned Osama inside out, his poor hole clenched tighter than a corkscrew on that dynamite.
Stitch could sense Osama's climax. "Iki Baba! Osama Cum! Miki Miki Coconut!"
"F-Fuck, Stitch... Sucks there's no crowd around because I-I-I'm about to explo—AUGHHHHH!" Osama orgasmed painfully. His breeding gravy hit the ground with pops and crackles. Terrorist jizz isn't normal—it's rigged with explosives. Screw sperm cells, these bastards are packing party snaps in their nuts.
"Osama loaded." quoted Stitch. Then he scrambled to licked the splooge clean off the ground. Osama's spunk stung his tongue due to how combustible it was. "Mhmm~ Stitch love pop rocks!"
Stitch's foreplay was next in line. No dynamites this time. Stitch ain't that deranged. Instead, he wanted to be stoned.
Stitch sprawled on his back, penises erect. At the meantime, Osama collected rocks and steadily aimed them at Stitch's crotch. One by one, stones flew at Stitch's direction, hitting him heavy in the privates.
"Ih! Ih! Stone Stitch!" moaned the alien as his dicks and balls got pelted, leaking precum each time he took the hits. It felt like an honor—being stoned by a genuine Middle Eastern. "Punish me! UGH!"
"Take that, you infidel!" Bin Laden hollered, grinning like a lunatic. This was better than any bottle toss game he played at Coney Island. "You like that, slut? Bet I can nail that third testicle! Here comes the money shot!"
The stone missed its mark and it struck the fat of Lilo's puffy poonani. DING! BULLSEYE! Lilo sprung up from her sleep. "OW! My child vagina!"
In contrast, Stitch would do anything for this bliss to last forever. "Harder, harder!" he demanded, as if there was anything harder than a rock. Oh, but there is—a fucking boulder! And Osama was about to hurl one his way.
With Allah-given strength, Osama chucked it and Stitch's dicks disappeared under the weight of the massive stone. For the second time, he took down two towers.
"OOOOHH FUCK..." If you'd think Stitch would be paralyzed from the hip down as would any normal human being, then you'd be dead wrong. He was fully functional and fully hard! The boulder split in two, releasing two maxed-out cocks!
"TOOKI BA WABA!" Stitch was pumped and Eveready to fuck butt.
With bounce on his steps, Osama got into worship position and surrendered his badonkadonk. But as Stitch lined up his flesh flutes with Osama's anus, the terrorist hesitated, scooting back like he just saw the bill at a five-star restaurant.
"T-T-Those are...uh, pretty massive, Stitch. I-I don't see how we can...you know, fit that."
Stitch's grin stretched so wide it looked like his head might split in half. "Stitch knows how," he growled and lit the fuse on the dynamite that's in Osama's ass.