complete incomplete unwritten needs rewrites
marcusstrattondomrook (benjamin carmine)bairdcoletaiclayton carmine
marcus in underground initial ilima sinkhole assault ~HOLLOW STORM~. marcus gets separated from his squad and ends up getting captured...
...thrown in w/ tai and his 4 locust boyfriends and fucked/gangbanged... ...
...myrrah pumps eggs down marcus' throat & then marcus gets facefucked by skorge (and then gangbanged by locust drones)
...and somehow everybody regroups and goes back up to base (with tai?).
marcus back at base marcus jerks off thinking about getting fucked
marcus and dom fuck and marcus shows off his half-tfed dick ...
marcus meets up w/ tai again and tai fucks / fists him until marcus is bellowing & rutting back against tai's bicep while his mutant dick gushes imulsion-laced pre all over ...
marcus sucks dick in the bathroom gloryhole...
...gets spitroast by baird and cole... ...
...has dom suck his dick... ...
...and sucks off stratton + pumps rook full of eggs in the showers ...
marcus pumps the rest of his eggs into stratton
(some missing time here @ the base while all the various eggs keep growing; it's like at least a week or two before the next bit, ideally more like a month. but that's a lotttt of space to fill. maybe some marcus/dom scenes as his cock/ovipositor keeps growing in. marcus needs to get his actual eggs fertilized, so, uh, some impreg scenes i guess.) stratton jerks off thinking about his dick getting bigger + fucks around w/ jan rojas or w/e
dom/marcus/stratton/rook foursome where marcus & rook get fucked / spitroast & dped
underground trip to birthing pools everybody's pregnant enough that they need to lay their eggs so they head back down into the underground somehow. some kind of intro, probably marcus really starts to show + some locust show up to escort them
everybody heads down to the underground
dom stays at the locust staging base gets gangbanged by locust. maybe for the entire time marcus & co are in the underground dom is getting gangbanged. maybe that.
marcus blows some drones in front of stratton & rook ...
marcus egglaying -- he pumps out his clutch stratton egglaying -- stratton gets sounded & cumflated by lambent drudge dick-tentacles + lays his eggs + unbirths and then rebirths a drone rook egglaying -- (not written??) (ending w/ carmine fucking marcus w/ his prolapsed ovipositor-cock and a whole bunch of drones around them hooting and cheering watching two queens fuck each other)
tai shows up at the staging base & sees dom getting fucked. he fucks dom's prolapse or w/e before they're both gangbanged more. tai's bfs jerk off all over him while he's getting fucked, etc ...
marcus, stratton, and rook pick up dom from the locust output, where he's getting his dick milked while getting bicep-deep fisted.
marcus' ovaries are like impacted w/ eggs due to his pregnancy and so he gets his cervix/womb fisted and somebody (a drone i guess?) goes in and pulls out these super thick dense ribbons of congealed slime all riddled through w/ eggs. like they can physically haul on the rope of slime coming out of his dick to work more of the impacted mess free from his ovaries, & then as they get more and more out they go deeper until somebody's shoulder-deep inside marcus' cock w/ their hand inside his womb groping around his ovaries.
there's a big locust orgy where they all swallow marcus' eggs and shove them into each others' asses and then fuck each other to fertilize them.
marcus fucks dom and immediately pumps him full of a fresh clutch of eggs ...
meanwhile, in ilima/jacinto... stratton & rook head back up. they're both visibly tfed but they sneak in or something ...
stratton gloats to rojas that his dick is bigger (he basically has to use a wheelbarrow to move around) & rojas fucks his cock rook fucks/gets fucked by some guys and starts pumping them full of eggs. big octopus dick splayed out across the bathroom partition while he gets fucked etc
cole & baird go down into the underground to see why everybody's missing or something?
marcus goes into heat now that he's laid his first clutch of eggs & b/c he got the initial queen tf, marcus goes into heat super hard or smth
cole & baird arrive at the staging base. marcus gets spitroast by baird and cole (again) ... ...
marcus goes into heat and needs to be taken deeper/further underground w/ cole and baird; gets gangbanged by locust. MORE IMPORTANTLY baird and cole get gangbanged too and cole gets his ass totally destroyed ... ...
marcus ends up underground & is pumping some eggs down into some soldier's throat in front of myrrah and skorge and ends up pumping a bunch of eggs down skorge's throat, too (presumably baird & cole drop marcus off down w/ skorge and head back up. cole probably asks to watch)
skorge hooks marcus up to a fucking machine and pumps him full of worm god cum
meanwhile, at the staging base... cole & baird head back up and pass through the staging base again & run into tai / whoever else is still around (maybe dom is still down there getting gangbanged and visibly pregnant at this point
(at some point we also need the tai scene where two of his locust bfs fist him and the other two fuck him and get jerked off inside his ass)
tai gets fucked by a brumak. (change this: it's cole/baird watching, & also tai wants to have brumak/locust/human kids so before this he had rook or somebody pump him full of eggs)
cole & baird head back up to the surface along w/ some locust hangers-on who wanna see what's up? including maybe the drone that crawled up cole's ass and tai + his bfs. baird gets flustered translating cole & the drone dirty talking @ each other.) (maybe tai getting his tattoos filled in w/ locust-cum ink around here??)
back at ilima/jacinto base order has totally broken down @ the base and there are now half-tfed people walking around openly. stratton and rook (also others) have been tfing people continually
cole gets fisted/fucked by a locust in a big mess hall orgy & then somebody in the cole fanclub ('andre') shows up and is like "hey you still open to get fucked more"
also during some big orgy: stratton's got like a crowd of guys kneeling in front of his person-sized dick, and there's some scene where he basically goads some big burly red-headed guy (rojas??) to crawl up in his dick / womb. he stays up there for like a week as stratton tries to move around w/ that added weight and him always kicking etc and when he comes out he's locust-huge w/ glowing imulsion blood and gums/tongue/asshole/cockhead etc. also maybe he comes out w/ a big gross placenta. stratton is like, jesus.
andre gets a bloodmount tf from the tattooed locust drone mostly b/c he wants to fuck cole harder
andre grows a writhing knotted tentacle-cock and also a writhing knotted tentacle cock-tongue (& i guess ends up vaguely satyresque only w/ blootmount-taloned spurs or smth, or a hugely-muscled upper body w/ heel spurs on his hands, w/e) & then fucks cole w/ both of them until he's super cumflated & the added infusion into cole's imulsion-soaked asshole makes his guts grow giant masses of writhing cilia and his prostate grows totally gigantic & convolved & ends up w/ his spermatic ducts and prostate growing out partially through his ass in big oozing glands. he squirts when he cums.
anthony carmine shows up, is a sire due to locust experiments, and he fucks rook (ben carmine)
clayton carmine shows up and cole goads him into fucking ben ... ...
clayton fucks cole ...
clayton gets his dick even more fucked-up by that locust tattoo guy
marcus returned to base by a crowd of locust, hugely pregnant w/ swollen breasts, everybody milks him
(probably some locust gangbangs in the mess hall or smth, gears all pinned down onto tables or pressed against walls while dozens of drones take turns. a drone splayed out across a table w/ three cogs trying to fit their arms in.)
???? marcus gets fucked by a berserker
marcus grows a foot or two and turns into a lambent-looking berserker w/ glowing internal flesh so that you can see his ribs through his skin, that kinda thing; fucks some guys w/ his new back tentacles
something something marcus pumps skorge full of his giant lambent eggs
jd fenixdelfahz
lolll 25 years later gears4/gears5 jd & del fuck. fahz can come too
[ i know absolutely nothing about the gears of war games OKAY THE POINT OF DIVERGENCE HERE IS THE INTRO TO GEARS OF WAR 2, THEY GO DOWN INTO THE HOLLOW AND FIND MYRRAH GLOATING ABOUT HAVING ACHIEVED SYMBOISIS W/ THE LAMBENT, RATHER THAN A RIFTWORM THAT KILLS CARMINE. OR RATHER: THEY GO INTO THE ILIMA SINKHOLE AND DISCOVER IT CRAWLING W/ LOCUST LABS; THEY ALL GET SEPARATED AND THEIR COMMUNICATIONS GIVE OUT ON ACCOUNT OF UNDERGROUND ROCK. ALSO MARIA (DOM'S WIFE) IS NOW A WEIRD HALF-LOCUST QUEEN AND SHE'S LIKE "YEAH THIS SUCKS BUT I'M NOT JUST GONNA SIT HERE AND SOB WHILE BEGGING YOU TO KILL ME" AND THEN PEGS THE SHIT OUT OF DOM AND/OR MARCUS W/ HER OVIPOSITOR. anyway so the actual opening which hasn't been written yet is ~delta squad~ going down into the rift holes and getting split up and then marcus stumbling across a troop gathering in one of the sunken cities, like after the locust have scrambled the humans away and turned them into weird half-locust monster people notable characters: marcus fenix dominic santiago damon baird augustus cole jace stratton ben carmine (and clayton carmine, and anthony carmine) tai kaliso ARE THERE ANY OTHER HOT GUYS IN THE GEARS GAMES??? minh young kim??? he's dead by gears 2 is the thing i mean i GUESS there could be some stuff w/ marcus' dad but i assume in this continuity he's as pro-genocide as he is in the canon, so, that would be weird. OPENING: RECAP OF GOW 1, "THERE ARE ALL THESE RIFT HOLES OPENING AND ENTIRE CITIES SINKING", OPERATION ~HOLLOW STORM~ AFTER THE SINKING OF ILIMA (during ~hollow storm~ jace is leader of alpha-seven; tai kaliso has been captured w/ the rest of zeta-six during the sinking of ilima (lead by minh young kim, serving tai kaliso, michael barrick, and alacia valera)) (there's also sigma-one, which has cole, baird, and pvt 'tanner' as well as potentially more people) (and i think during hollow storm delta-one is marcus, dom, ben carmine, and ????. not rly sure) (in i think gears 1, jan rojas is a member of alpha squad and a squadmade of cole and baird before he gets reassigned to delta squad (b/c all of alpha squad is dead). there's also 'gyules' who gets killed by a berserker, and some random unnamed dude who gets shot.) [ marcus goes up against the queen locust in a dramatic boss fight and gets owned and she's all "yes well we could have peace but you humans are just so violent so we will have peace but it will be on my terms and not yours" and she basically calls some high-ranking locust guy and they make out and then the queen like pours imulsion down marcus' throat and then reveals her ovipositor and like forces her eggs down his throat and then the locust guy fucks his mouth and comes down his throat and during this whole process marcus gets into it and comes all over himself and ends up begging for them to fuck him, etc etc etc then they send him home with a gut full of locust larva ETC ETC THIS CONTINUES FOR SOME TIME overarching structure: * intro, marcus gets fucked by myrrah & skorge & a bunch of drones and then sent back with a gut full of eggs. * marcus tf stuff, slowly transforming into some huge locust hybrid * marcus & dom bj scene with marcus' half-transformed dick * the whole bathroom gloryhole w/ cole & baird and then stratton & carmine * marcus gets abducted again during the next locust attack and they're like "time to extract the eggs" and marcus is like "uh about that" and then myrrah is like "well good job but now we're just gonna do it again + they'll be fertilized by a bunch of drones because you're really not that important, p.s. get the kid down here before he explodes or w/e". second locust gangbang, w/ lambent locust * something something everyone at base is turning into locust monsters and they can all smell how marcus and carmine are turning into fertile berserkers or w/e, gangbang on marcus' bed * marcus fabricates up some job to get carmine + his squad down into the hollows and there's some grotesque birthing scene where someone shoves their arm up carmine's ovipositor dick and pulls out eggs with half-formed fetuses in them and plops them into some huge imulsion slime pool. everyone involved probably gets gangbanged again. carmine probably fucks marcus w/ his gaping stretched-out ovipositor. * myrrah actually shows up on the ship (or w/e) and the scene descends into an orgy where marcus gets fucked by a lambent berserker while carmine is gangbanged by a massed horde of cogs and locust * uh the end i guess ]


initial ilima sinkhole assault ~HOLLOW STORM~ [^]

"Alright, we're going in." His comm squawked in acknowledgment. Marcus' squad was arrayed around him: Dom, Cole, Baird, and Rook -- Carmine, his name was, but he was the rookie, so green he was growing shoots. Spread out before them was the latest battlefield: a blasted land, high on the plateau but still scoured to bedrock, and punctuated with irregular grindlift holes -- the only way to get underground, into the tunnels where the Locust were staging. Their own grindlift was open, a tiny claustrophobic capsule, little more than an elevator with a drill attached. The radio let out a burst of static after he clicked off, followed by a bleary "Acknowledged. Good luck out there, Delta-One." The doors snapped shut, sealing them in near-darkness, and then every sound was drowned out in the roar of the drill. The Locust had been shifting, and only hours ago there'd been distress calls from Ilima -- on their stronghold, the immense Jacinto plateu, made from rock too hard for the Locust to gnaw through. But in the last months two other cities had just vanished, eaten by the earth. This was the worst by far: the plateau itself was lopsided, edges sheared off, the ground pitted with sinkholes. The ground shuddered erratically, from aftershocks or who-knew what else; whatever'd eaten up an entire city. It was called "Operation Hollow Storm", but it was mostly scrambling for any kind of response. They weren't winning the war, and this made it even more clear. The best case scenario had them sink Jacinto itself into the hollows below, crushing the Locust hive; the worst -- and more likely -- scenario had them all dead. There was a moment of freefall as the drill burst out into the cavern below, and then the impact when they hit the ground. Marcus was the first to step forward, prying the doors open. "Let's do this," he said, and lead them out into the cavern. They'd just turned the first corner when things went wrong. The narrow canyon they'd landed in opened up into a vast tunnel, sloping shallowly down, its walls coarse rock, covered in thick slime. The ooze drooled down the walls, forming a thickly-flowing river down into the darkness. The ground rumbled midway through forging it, and Rook slipped, bringing the rest of them down with him, and then it was just chaos as they careened down into the depths, cursing and swearing. Marcus dug into the scree, sending pebbles flying, and somehow latched onto a boulder, clinging there as he watched the rest of the squad vanish deeper, their lights vanishing as the tunnel sloped even further downward. "Dom!" he yelled, first out loud and then into the radio. "Cole, Baird, Carmine, any of you there?" There was an awful, pregnant pause; Marcus couldn't hear anything but his heart hammering in his throat. "Repeating--" he started, and then his radio crackled to life, heavy with static. "Dom here. Shit, man, what a ride!" he whooped, radio cracking at the yell. " --- Cole and Baird with me, but --- of Carmine." The radio cracked and cut out, transmission already spotty with only a few hundred feet between them. "Hear you," Marcus said. "Safe to go down?" "Nah, the tunnel keeps going -- we hit an outcropping; no clue what's past us. Got a side passage, though. --- --- lab." Marcus shuddered. If Rook hadn't managed to stop himself somehow... there was no telling how the tunnel ended: a fatal fall; the mouth of a hungry beast; a Locust ambush. Or just running straight into the end with enough for to break all his bones. Fuck. "Got a side tunnel too; I'll see if I can go around somehow. Keep delving, boys." "Hear it. Good luck," came Dom's response, and then the radio turned into nothing but static again. Beyond the tunnel -- once there was rock in the way -- they'd be out of contact. He was doing this alone. Nothing to do but do it: he pushed off the boulder and made his way to the tunnel edge, ooze slick under his boots, to the crack in the wall he'd stopped himself near. He had to scramble on his hands and knees up the slight slope, almost losing his footing and flying down the tunnel a few times before he finally caught the lip and pulled himself out onto drier ground. And then, finally looking out on where he'd crawled to, he saw the city of Ilima laid out before him. He was at the top of a sharp slope, and there was a massive hollow cavern down there. When the city fell, parts of it crashed down, laid out like shards of a broken model. Most of the buildings were somewhat intact, but the whole thing was tilted down, sloping at an angle to some lower depth. Shafts of light shone down from the surface -- other grindlift holes -- and lit up parts of the wreckage like spotlights. It wasn't hard to see Locust stomping through the streets. Marcus wiped off the worst of the slime and slid down the slope.

marcus captured and thrown in with tai [^]

[ actually maybe this is the new opening? chronology like... * delta squad goes into the hollow beneath ilima and gets split up * marcus ends up stumbling across tai's cell, only instead of tai being TORTURED AND SUICIDAL he's like, oh hey here are my four big locust bfs. and maybe actively disarms marcus when he tries to shoot/chainsaw them * somehow this ends up w/ marcus fucking/getting fucked by some locust. like marcus tries to chainsaw them, tai disarms him & two of them grab his arms and pin him to the wall. and then tai's like, nah it's cool, the locust have been trying to figure out this thing, being kinda vague about it, and marcus is like "wow what the fuck" when tai like, throws a shoulder over one of the drones and then leans in to kiss. and then like. wow that sure is a locust boner on that guy. and also the two holding him. and this escalates to tai getting spitroast in front of him, at which point the locust let him go but he just stares. not aware he's getting hard watching until one of the drones gropes him. something something marcus gets blown and finds himself jerking off a locust dick and then after that he's shoved to the floor and he and tai make out (w/ tai spitting a mess of locust come into his mouth) and then both get fucked while another drone shoves his dick b/t their mouths * and then somehow that leads to a less rapey version of the myrrah scene ] Marcus honestly didn't notice at first. He wasn't expecting it. Not expecting anything like it. There was just some big scary-looking Drone standing next to Tai, maybe to keep him prisoner or something, but. Tai threw his arm over the Drone's shoulder, pulling him closer, and then reached down and -- the Drone had his cock out. He'd had his cock out for a while; he'd been grinding his dick against Tai's hip right in front of Marcus and he's just _not noticed_. But now Tai wrapped his hand around the Drone's dick and stroked it. "Tai, what the fuck--" Marcus said, words trailing off when the Drone leaned in, pressing a savage, brutal-looking kiss to Tai's lips, sharp Locust teeth biting all across his cheeks. In Tai's hand, the Locust dick shuddered and burbled, spitting out a grimy-looking string of pre all up Tai's side, and Tai caught some of it over his fingers, smeared it back down the Locust's shaft as he stroked. Marcus just stared, mouth agape. Locust dicks looked _fucked up_; they were huge, brutal things, too big and too fat even for their length. Tai wrapped his hand around the Drone's cockhead, only barely able to do that, and he milked it, squeezing out slimy gushes of pre all over his hand, until it overflowed and streamed down his knuckles, forming huge rubbery strings hanging down, jiggling in the air. The drone's cock was about the size of Tai's entire forearm, not quite as thick given his meaty muscles, but nearly there. It was yellow-grey, with a splotchy mottling of dull grey. And it was covered in warts or calluses or something like that, big waxy-looking blobs of flesh bulging out from the shaft, making it lumpy and asymmetrical. Down at the base, the Drone didn't have pubes or anything like that, but it did have big rocky-looking outcroppings, the same things that sometime budded out across their shoulders or forearms: like gravel embedded in the skin. Big chunky angular growths studded the base of the drone's shaft, fanning up across his stomach, dotted across his inner thighs. The drone's pre was a shining grey, slimy and squelching as Tai's hand kept stroking, sheening the grotesque length of the drone's cock, forming burbling streams of ooze drooling down the shaft, spilling down over the drone's balls. And his _balls_ -- it was hard to tell even if the drone had two balls, or three, or one, or just a mass of lumpy flesh. It was enormous, this gigantic lump of flesh bigger than Tai's fists put together. His sac was furrowed, leathery, and it bulged every-which-way in a mess of heavy-looking lumps and knobs. Tai's fingers tugged at the base of the drone's shaft, jostling his balls, and it looked like they _squirmed_, churning cords inside the drone's sac shifting and sliding against each other. The drone crooned, grunting, and wrapped his hands around Tai's waist, pulling him closer so that the drone could hump across his thigh, cock spanning up his side most of the way to his armpit. It spat pre, gushing streams of it, smearing Tai down with its grimy, gritty-looking slime, and Tai just leaned into it, still stroking. Marucs got woozy just staring, the stench of it -- acrid and acidic, but still _meaty_, still the reek of sex -- hitting him like a wave. He staggered back, back against the wall, eyes wide. Tai just smirked at him, the same cocky expression he always made when he knew he was doing better, and then sunk to his knees, mouth open, as he wrapped both hands around the Drone's cock and opened wide, tongue dragging up along the bloated, warped cockhead before shoving the entire fat thing into his mouth. The Drone groaned, a heavy rattling sound, and wrapped his hands around Tai's head, holding it like a thrashball with his stubbly mohawk as the stitching, and shoved, sinking half his shaft into Tai's mouth and down his throat. Marcus could see the bulge: a big lump surfacing along the underside of Tai's jaw, and then spreading down, warping his neck. Sliding back and forth as the Drone started thrusting, his giant balls swaying like a pendulum, not even enough of his shaft in Tai's mouth for them to hit his face. One of the other Drones apparently wanted to get in. Hands slapped across Tai's back, and the sharp crack of impact drew Marcus' gaze away from Tai's pre-slimed face: there was another Drone lining up behind him, nightmarish monster cock drizzling pre down Tai's ass. The drone grabbed the twisted strap of Tai's loincloth and shoved it down, hand following. His claws dug into the meat of Tai's thick ass, dimpling the flesh, and he used his other hand to aim his cock, milking it for a messy squirt of pre that splattered all up and down Tai's ass, drooling in lumpy streams down Tai's crack, smearing over his claws as he shoved one inside. Tai made a sound, muffled by the cock down his throat, and rose up higher, presenting his ass to the drone like it was on a platter, grinding back against the Drone's stiff cock. The Drone smeared his pre all up and down Tai's ass, claws pushing through his ring, feeding pre into his ass until it started oozing out around his fingers. Only then did he actually draw back to line up his cock, the entire grotesque, misshapen thing pointed at Tai's ass like a bayonet blade, before he shoved in -- claws curling over Tai's hips once the head slurped inside, and then he drove the entire thing in in a single brutal thrust, balls clapping against Tai's cheeks and sending out a spray of pre that Marcus dimly felt splatter across his bare hands. The impact of it knocked Tai forward, choking and gurgling on the cock sliding deeper into his throat, and the drone in front of him followed the lead of the one behind him and dragged Tai down, sheathing the full length of his cock down Tai's throat, until his lips met the drone's crotch, his lurching, oversized balls smacking against Tai's jaw and neck. Marcus just-- stared. Tai bent over, spitroast by two of the biggest Drones he'd ever seen, Tai not just accepting it but groaning and moaning, arms wrapped against the thighs of the Drone fucking his face, his hands squeezing the Drone's big chunky ass. Tai looked up, lips spread grotesquely around the gnarled, warted flesh of the Locust's cock, and just stared at the drone fucking his throat even as his eyes started to water and drip down tears. Tai's throat worked, squeezing and milking the drone's shaft, the lumpy mass visibly bobbing up and down, and the drone reached down, wrapped his hand around the back of Tai's head, and drove him forward, mashing his nose against the muscled arch of the drone's pelvis. Tai let out a warbling gag -- but still his hands just squeezed around the drone's thighs, even as he coughed and choked, cloudy grey locust pre burbling over his lips and drooling from his nose, face smeared with tears and snot and grimy locust pre. When the drone next to him loosed his grasp Marcus didn't even notice. But when the drone reached down and cupped his cock -- Marcus jolted, his bellowed cry of "Holy fucking shit!" drawing the attention of Tai and the two drones for a second, before they went back to fucking. Marcus was hard; he'd been hard. Every beat of his heart sent a painful pulse down to his trapped dick, jammed up against the heavy material of his pants. The other drone squeezed, sensation half pleasure half pain, and Marcus reeled back like he'd been punched, not resisting as the drone dug his claws into the button of his pants, popping it, and then tugged his zipper down. Marcus' cock bulged out, only thinly constrained by the fabric of his underwear, and the drone opened his mouth wide, showing off his warted, purple-black tongue and his sharp, diamondlike teeth, all shiny with spit, before he sunk forward, tongue spilling from his mouth to lap in a broad fan around Marcus' cock, Locust drool saturating the coarse fabric of his underwear and soaking his cock. Marcus was gasping for breath, chest heaving, head spinning. His entire body shuddered with adrenaline as the drone nuzzled up against his cock, his drooling, lapping tongue wetting his underwear to translucency, until the fat spike of his cock was on display. The thick warts of the drone's tongue tugged across the span of his cockhead, scraping through the thin fabric. The drone's claws tensed on Marcus' thighs, sending another spike of adrenaline up his spine, before he reached in and peeled his underwear down, letting his cock jut out, fat and heavy and already completely slathered in Locust spit. The drone coiled his tongue around Marcus' cockhead, impossibly hot and wet, slimy and pulsing as he sucked it into his mouth. His tongue slurped further out of his mouth, coiling in lumpy furls down the length of his dick, coating Marcus' entire shaft in thick drool. The drone leaned in, mouth open wide, and swallowed the entire thing to the base: cockhead popping into his throat, lips pressed against Marcus' crotch, buried in his pubes. Marcus couldn't contain the groan as the drone's throat squeezed down, hot and wet and slick; it came out slurred and rattling. Marcus just stayed there, sagged back against the wall, huffing and panting, dazed, maybe drooling. His gaze flit between Tai -- body mashed between the two giant drones, grey pre drooling from his mouth and ass, smeared all over his skin -- and the drone kneeling in front of him, claws wrapped around Marcus' thigh, face pressed against his crotch. The drone slurped on his cock, throat milking his cockhead, warted tongue bumpy as it lapped up and down his shaft, lips tugging and stroking. Marcus was only dimly aware of his orgasm: entire body flushed and hot, thrumming with adrenaline, ripples of heat burning up and down his stomach, twisting into his guts. He found himself groaning and grunting, stomach clenching, until suddenly his cock erupted, orgasm hitting him like a punch, cock shuddering and tensing as he shot into the drone's mouth. The drone groaned, muffled, vibration buzzing across Marcus' cock, and he swallowed and swallowed again, gulping down Marcus' load affixed to his spurting cock. Marcus wavered, wobbling legs collapsing out from under him; he sprawled forward, automatically raising his hands to stop his fall, ending up abruptly face-to-face with the drone kneeling in front of him, pressed all across his chest. The drone was panting, mouth open, grey skin flushed brown, a stringy mess of spit and Marcus' load flooding his mouth, spilling down his chin in slimy cords. He was still coming, weakly, little burbles of come gushing across the drone's stomach. The drone leaned in, breath hot and wet billowing out across Marcus' face, and then they were kissing, the drone shoving his tongue into Marcus' mouth, feeding him his own load, Locust spit spicy and heavy. Marcus groaned, wrapping a hand around the back of the drone's head and smashing their faces together, deepening the kiss. His entire body seemed burning hot, fire blossoming everywhere the drone touched him -- yanking none-too-gently on the straps and catches of his armor, loosening it so he could feel across Marcus' biceps and chest. Marcus panted too, the both of them out of breath, gasping between their messy kiss, smearing spit and come all over their lips, cheeks, forming sludgy cords spanning between them. Marcus gasped, smearing his lips over the drone's face -- kissing the corner of his mouth, biting his jaw, just groaning loud when the drone did the same thing to him, ducking his head down so he could bite, hard, into the meat of Marcus' shoulder, sharp teeth leaving a few sluggishly-bleeding marks. The drone shoved him back and dragged Marcus' chestpiece over his head, hands immediately shoving up his undershirt, leaving him bare-chested. He was already flushed blotchy, hair matted down from sweat, and the drone ran his hands down Marcus' chest, cupping his fat pecs, knuckles rolling over his heavy abs. The drone was already shirtless, but Marcus found himself mirroring the motion: hands tracing over leathery Locust hide, muscles sharply defined. Something heavy and hard knocked against Marcus' hands, and he realized he'd slid them down the drone's chest, fingers digging into the thick, muscular ridges of his hips, the drone's cock shoved out through his fly, just -- utterly enormous. He wrapped his hands around it. Its flesh was sizzlingly hot, damp with sweat and pre. A Locust dick had looked enormous in Tai's hands, and in his it seemed even huger: pulsing, hot, reeking, burbling slime that drizzled down across his skin. The drone groaned when Marcus squeezed, the iron-hard core sheathed in loose flesh that moved with Marcus' strokes. Jacking him off as they made out. The drone's hands found his neck, side, stomach, his rough callouses dragging over Marcus' skin in a way that made him groan into the drone's mouth, hands picking up their pace on the drone's titanic shaft. Pre splattered across his chest, shaft shuddering in his hands each time, spraying reeking, rancid gushes of slimy Locust pre all over, painting him from neck to crotch in a layer of hot slime, smearing into grubby froth as the drone touched him all over. The drone's shaft squelched in his hands, utterly drenched with stringy slime. Marcus shifted his grip, ooze wetly gurgling under his palms as he wrapped them around the mammoth shaft. The drone's dick trembled, heartbeat racing through the engorged flesh, muscle spasms beneath the drone's balls sending gush after gush of rancid, spicy locust pre splattering up between them, painting the both of them in gush after gush thick, sluggishly-flowing ooze. Marcus slid his hand down to the base, smacking wetly into the drone's balls, knuckles practically sinking into their churning, pulpy mess -- and curiosity piqued, Marcus groped the churning sac, squeezing and tugging. The drone did have two balls, just two so bloated they bulged and folded into lumpy, lopsided curves, and the cords hooking them to the rest of his body were stretched and thick, packed so densely they bulged out his flesh. Marcus played with the drone's balls, pulling and squeezing, hefting the massive, bigger-than-his-fist orbs in his hands, fingers digging into the drone's furrowed flesh to trace over the distended, warped curves of his flesh. The drone groaned, cock erupting another fuming mess of pre across Marcus' chest, squelching when their pecs meshed together and then burbling when they pulled apart, leaving fat, finger-thick cords of ooze webbed all between their shiny, slimy chests. The drone groaned, hips jerking, cock sliding through Marcus' loose fist. His dick was so huge, jutting up as an immense prong between them. His cockhead ground against Marcus' chest, grinding up against his abs before it battered against the underside of his meaty pecs, squirting out a fresh glaze of ooze. The drone arched up, hips rocking, and he slammed his gnarled cockhead against Marcus' pecs, slurping to the side to shove into the groove between them. The drone leaned in, his own muscular chest sandwiching his cock between them: he thrust, pec-fucking himself and Marcus, the fat knob of his cockhead dragging over Marcus' skin, popping out between his pecs and erupting all over their faces. The cockhead was so broad it struggled to pull back down, the fat ridge dimpling their skin, dragging down, pressure increasing until it popped down with a slurp, fucking a slimy, drooling channel, grimy grey pre slathered all over their skin. Marcus looked down, squinting, heavy brows furrowed, one eye squeezed shut as a ribbon of pre gushed up, splattering hot across one cheek. Marcus panted, dribbles of pre spilling down his face, into his mouth, and he leaned in just the fractional amount he needed to press his face all across the drone's cockhead. The next gush of pre lanced across his cheek, the tail of it splattering across his lip, into his mouth, and the taste burst across his tongue, more intense than the reek of it suffusing his sinuses: hot metal and chemical tang, spicy meat with a rancid aftertaste. Marcus groaned, muffled as he spread his lips around the cockhead; it was too fat to easily fit into his mouth, but he could still smear his bruised lips up and down its taut, straining dome, catching on the mess of blisters just under the cockhead, open mouth flooding and overflowing with pre as the drone gushed into his mouth, thick slimy ooze drowning his tongue and burbling over his lips, soaking his soul patch and smearing down his craggy chin. The drone groaned, hand coming down on the back of Marcus' head, pushing him down, and he opened wider, fat cockhead ramming against his splayed lips, only a tiny fraction of the gigantic cock in his mouth. He drooled, lips open around the shaft, letting pre splatter across the inside of his mouth only to drool back out, down the drone's slimy, slathered shaft. He wrapped his hands around it, stroking it while he slobbered and sucked on the tip, wetly gasping, each inhale through his nose burning, the hot reek of Locust sex overwhelming his senses. The drone hunched up, humping Marcus' face, hands wrapping around his meaty shoulders. His cockhead bashed through into his mouth, a stinging pain as his bruised lips split from the sheer girth of it. It rammed against the roof of his mouth and slid back, hitting the back of his throat again and again until Marcus tried to swallow it, only gagging and sputtering at the impact each time, pre flooding his mouth and clinging in tarry blobs to his flesh. The drone crooned, his thrusts getting shorter and faster, but Marcus was too absorbed in his cocksucking to notice the signs: the drone finally bellowed and came like an explosion, cockhead swelling so fat the ridge locked behind his teeth, throbbing and pulsing, and then the drone was coming in his mouth, gush after gush of chemical, rotten-metal come spraying into his mouth, bulging his cheeks. He swallowed, reflexively, come burning down his throat, but still most of it poured over his lips, down the drone's shaft in a chunky spill. Marcus gasped, choking and coughing on the flow, gulping and gulping as the cock pulsed and shot again and again, mouth flooded, throat clogged with thick chunks, practically chewing on the load, all semisolid rubbery chunks and thick slime, tongue mindlessly lashing against the underside of the cockhead, tracing over the mess of lumpy warts, digging down to coax out spurt after spurt. Marcus finally pulled off with a twinge, jaw aching from the thickness, and let the drone flood his mouth further with come, gasping and sputtering with his lips still rubbing over the spurting cockhead, only dimly aware of the drone mashing his cockhead against his face, his own hands still stroking the gnarled, spurting shaft. Come poured over his lips, tongue drowned under the slimy pool of come, his gulps still not keeping up with the flow, and abruptly his head was tipped up, the drone mashing their faces together, shoving his tongue into Marcus' mouth, lapping up his own come, drinking from Marcus' mouth like he was a cup, and all the while the drone's cock kept shooting, spraying tarry slime across his chest. Marcus sagged down like his strings were cut, dazed, the reek in the air seeming to cut straight through his conscious mind. He panted, on all fours, spitting out the mess of come in his mouth: globs stuck to his teeth, to the roof of his mouth, tongue smearing them around. The drone's cock shuddered, splayed across his side. They were both thoroughly smeared with come, skin and locust hide alike drenched under a thick, grimy layer of grey-green come, forming huge globs and hanging, jiggling strings, stretching out from Marcus' nose and chin, the line of his jaw, shaking from the force of his gasped breath. His cock was hard: he might have come again, maybe, beads of pearlescent human come still clinging tight to the dome of his cockhead. Maybe he'd come just from sucking a Locust dick; from having it come all over him. The drone pulled his head up: warted purple tongue flopping from his mouth, dragging across his face: craggy cheeks, broad nose, heavy brow, stubbled jaw, slurping up some of the mess he'd left there, and Marcus couldn't stop himself from groaning, tipping up, turning it into a proper kiss, tasting locust spit and come smeared over the drone's lips, still puddled in his mouth. Marcus panted, chest heaving, as the drone pulled back, leaving him on his knees, arching up into the phantom touch across his sweaty skin, buzzing everywhere they were touching. He didn't know why did he that. The drone was in front of him, leering, all rocky muscles and bare leathery hide, his cock jutting out in front of him, hardly in inch between them. There were still strings stretched between his lips and the drone's, thick cords of spit and come. One snapped, slapping down against his chin with a splatter, and Marcus just knelt there still, panting, Locust come sour in his mouth, drooling over his bruised lips, washing down his neck. He'd thought maybe, dimly, in the back of his head, that Tai had been watching, and the thought had been equal parts hot and humiliating. But now focusing over the drone's shoulder: Tai was still busy, otherwise occupied. The drones had sat him down on their cocks, one at a time, and one had already blown, leaving the other to fuck his used ass: hole a mess, gaping and drooling come, a squirt of grimy come gushing out with each wet thrust, a sharp spanking slap coming each time the drone hilted in him. Each thrust rocked Tai's body forward, droplets of sweat and come bursting off him. The other drone was still pressed close, half-hard shaft slathered in come, pressed tight up against Tai's chest, a hand wrapped tight around Tai's balls, tugging them down and twisting as Tai humped against him, fucking himself on the other drone's cock. The messy bruises and cuts across Tai's stomach and chest made more sense now: Locust claws dug into his sides, dragged across his stomach, and when the drone hilted into his ass there was an answering bulge up across Tai's stomach, his abs getting beaten from the inside by the drone's clublike cockhead. Not torture marks. Sex marks. Even as Marcus watched, Tai groaned, dropping a hand down to press back against the bloated swell of his stomach, hand grabbing at the drone's cockhead through his own body, letting him rut sharply forward, the thrusts audibly smacking Tai's stretched flesh into his own palm, again and again, the flesh of his stomach flushing into what was probably gonna be a giant bruise. At some point Marcus looked up -- tore his gaze away from Tai's distended stomach -- to find that Tai was watching him. _Now_ he was watching him: face flushed and sweaty, eyes dark. Staring at him even with the Locusts double-teaming his ass. Marcus was gonna call it temporary insanity, but just seeing Tai like that: naked, splattered in Locust jizz; having the stench of the room soak into him; the mess of Locust come splattered all across his face, still lingering bitter and acrid in his mouth... he found himself lurching forward, like his body was moving on its own, crawling on all fours. Tai reached out, and the drag of his fingers over Marcus' sweaty skin, smearing through the slimy mess of come, felt like tongues of flame curling up all over him. Marcus groaned, dazed, and Tai lurched forward -- Locust cock jerking halfway from his ass -- and kissed him roughly, tongue lapping at the mess of come smeared across his face. Marcus drew back, dazed, Tai's face screwed into pain or pleasure or something else, grunting and rocking forward with each thrust of the drone behind him. Tai's cock was half-hard, twitching in sudden jerks, dribbling come. Balls jostling now, at the other drone had gotten out of the way to let Marcus crawl in. "Why am I doing this," Marcus said, words coming out not as a question or a statement or anything, like something that his body just felt like saying, while he sat there and drowned under the sea of sensation. His voice was rasping, clotted; there were globs of Locust come stuck in his throat, making his voice gurgle. He swallowed, once, thickly, and felt globs mash together and slide an inch deeper, before sticking to his skin again. Tai laughed, once, a hoarse chuckle. Marcus could smell the sweat of his skin, not the acrid musk of the drones. Tai reached out, wrapped a hand against Marcus' head, and dragged him back in, kissing him again, tongue shoving into his mouth and licking the come off his teeth. Tai nipped at his lips, and Marcus bit back, shoving his tongue into his mouth, dragging his bruised lips across Tai's jaw, pain burning up from the spiky stubble. The locust fucking Tai hooted and laughed, each thrust jerking Tai forward, mashing their mouths together in ungainly jerks, teeth scraping against skin, tongue rasping up across Marcus' stubble. He moaned, low, and the other drones pushed them closer together, huge Locust hands wrapping around his arms, spread on his back, shoved them chest-to-chest, come squelching between them. A drone stroked down his spine, the touch electric, all the way down to his ass, and a hot thrum spilled all through Marcus' body at the thought: Those huge clawed fingers shoving into his ass, making his hole look like the gaping, come-splattered wreck that was Tai's. The heat of it. A hand curled over his hip, gripping, and one of the drones knelt down beside them, rutting his cock over Marcus' side, slick with sweat and pre, just smearing slime over his skin. On the other side another drone stood: he bashed his cock against their faces, immense cock hitting with the force of a slap, a _crack_ that sprayed sweat and pre all over, droplets splattering across Marcus' burning lips, onto his lolled-out tongue. The drone shoved his cock between their lips, Tai's tongue lapping over the giant, lumpy knob of his cockhead, and Marcus sloppily sucked on the other side, sheening the massive shaft with spit, letting it dribble down his chin. The drone grabbed both their heads, thumbs splayed down between their eyes, and pressed them together, lips just-barely meeting around the club of his cock. He thrust, sloppily fucking the trench their mouths made, shaft gnarled and lumpy against Marcus' bruised lips, the flare of his cockhead butting against his mouth before the misshapen, fist-sized thing pulled into their mouths, spurting rancid pre in gushing streamers that mostly splattered across their cheeks. The fourth drone was behind him: hands prying at his ass, gripping his cheeks and spreading them. He spat, spit splattering down across Marcus' lower back, and then he smeared his fingers through it, painting lines down between his spread cheeks. The first time the pad of his fingertip pressed against his asshole -- a tight knot of muscle, clenching and spasming now with desire -- Marcus bellowed, mouth open wide, moaning against the side of the other drone's cock. The drone behind him snorted, letting out a rough bark of laughter, and ground down harder, rubbing his callused fingerpad up and down the spasming pucker of Marcus' asshole. His claw sliced across the skin of his ass, adding a stinging line, somehow just adding to the shaky, needy heat burning inside him. Marcus groaned, voice coming out warbling and ragged, warbling as the drone leaned in: fingertip, knuckles grinding against his slowly-opening asshole, other hand scraping its claws down his ass, across his thighs, tugging on his low-hanging balls. Marcus' cock shot off, abruptly, a sudden muscle pulse racing from his ass to his dick, and he spat out a messy cord of come all across Tai's thigh. Marcus just groaned, sloppily kissing Tai around the monstrous bulk of the locust cockhead pressed between them, hungrily slurping fresh locust pre as he shot off again, entire body dizzy and flushed with heat. His cock drooped, heavy and half-hard, still weakly pulsing out beads of come, and its heavy weight had Marcus lean bac, letting his cock and balls drag against his stinging, claw-marked thighs, spreading his ass cheeks wider. There was a wet impact, a thick mess of locust pre milked out directly onto his splayed asshole, and then the drone's claws were back again, grinding against his hole, slick and sloppy now as the drone fed thick globs of pre into him. [ anyway tai + marcus make out and then the locust get in on it and fuck them both while they make out + kiss while sucking another locust dick ] "Myrrah's got _some_ stick up her ass about your dad, that's for sure." [uh he runs into myrrah thinking she's some, idk, scientist, and they fuck and then she drags him to the locust army a crowd of locust while talking abt his dad + the lambent + sinking jacinto + the general tf exposition. like she's like "oh such a strong gear here to save me" and they fuck and then the locust come by and marcus is like 'oh fuck' and she's all "ha ha" and asks his name + goes "oh adam fenix's son" and then explains re: lambent; locust invasion; lambency cure, and when marcus is like 'who the fuck are you' she's like "uh queen myrrah of the locust" and he's like "but you're human" and she's like "mostly" and then goes into the whole tf thing which ends w/ marcus struggling to swallow her eggs] And she was _stacked_, skin-tight body-suit doing nothing to hide the swell of her breasts -- or hell, the plump flesh between her thighs, her lower lips close to outlined by the tight fabric. Marcus dragged his eyes back up to her face, seeing her watching him, her red lips slightly parted. "Thank god the Gears are here!" she said, clinging to him. "There are Locust all over! Who knows what they have in mind." She shuddered with her whole body, pressing her breasts against his chest. They both looked out at the street below, deserted and lit only by scattered beams of light. "I think it's safe for now," she said, breath puffing into Marcus' ear. "I should-- thank my brave rescuer, you think?" she said, and she reached down, hand dragging over his heavy armor until it reached the seam at his waist, her fingers digging in and suddenly tracing over the bare skin of his stomach. Marcus sucked in a breath. "Miss, I don't think--" he started, and she cut him off with a kiss. "Surely you'd hear the Locust approach?" she said, hand lower, cupped around his stiffening cock, palm grinding against the fabric. Marcus nodded, dazed, rutting up into her hand. "Yeah, yeah, sure." [he and myrrah fuck & then she drags him out into the street] [...] Marcus raised his gun to fire, but just as his finger tensed on the trigger two Drones burst from the shadows behind him and tackled him. The shot went astray, his gun went flying, and Marcus slammed to the ground with a cut-off shout, pinned under the weight of the huge aliens. A cloud of plaster dust burst around the impact, dry and crumbling-smelling as Marcus gasped, trying to throw off the drone, but it kept him pinned, long enough for Myrrah to turn and walk _clack-clack-clack_ to him, her boots stopping just in front of his face. "Marcus Fenix," she said, and the rest of the room went still. "Even after all this, you fight against me. COG has fallen. There is no hope for you." There was another clatter as she knelt down before him, knees an inch from his nose. "I wanted peace between us. It was your _father_ who made this inevitable, and even now his studies have been _useless_ to us. But Marcus, _dear_ Marcus," she said, patting his hair, smirking when he tried to jerk away. "_We_ have solved the lambent crisis. Our one weakness, solved. So we will have peace between us, whether or not you like. But we're _merciful_, Marcus: had you gained the upper hand, we would have been given the peace of the grave. We have a new plan for Sera. We have a _symbiosis_." Marcus spat at her feet. "Lady, I don't give a shit what crazy-ass plans--" Myrrah slapped him across the face, snapping his head to the side. "It's not for you to talk while your betters are speaking," she said, glaring down at him. Marcus opened his mouth to talk again and she kicked him backwards, her booted foot at his throat. "You're something of a _symbol_ to the humans," she said, staring down at him. "Which means you're worth more to us alive than dead." Marcus twisted, struggling against her foot and the claws of the drones pinning down his limbs. "_You're_ human, you crazy fucking bit--" His voice dragged off in a hacking wheeze as Myrrah angled her foot just slightly, boot pressing against Marcus' windpipe. His breath was loud, wheezing, as she continued speaking. "I _was_ human," Myrrah said, smirking down at him. "After we perfected the lambent serum, I was one of the first to undergo _transformation_. The Locust are the next step in evolution, Fenix, and you no longer have any weapon against us." Her grand gesturing pulled in, her hands fiddling with the coils and straps of her armor. Marcus' eyes bugged from his skull as she started to pull it _off_, the skin-tight plating opening across her sides, down her stomach, exposing pale skin. He yelled, some incoherent exclamation, and she just waved a hand in his direction. "Gag him." A drone clapped one of its immense, leathery hands over his mouth, its monstrous thumb digging along the underside of his jaw, clamping it shut. Marcus stared at Myrrah, stripping in front of him, mouth spitting out obscenities against the drone's palm. "I was the Locust's Queen," she said, naked to her waist, her breasts taut and firm, nipples broad nubs poking to the side, still posed imperiously over him. "An office I was honored to take in the service of the hive. _Now_ I am queen in a more _biological_ way, finally one with the swarm." Stripped to mid-thigh, her leggings the only clothes remaining, she _still_ looked human. Marcus couldn't keep himself from staring at her, skin pale white, stomach trim but not muscled, a dark dusting of hair between her thighs, her labia darker and wet.

myrrah pumps eggs down marcus' throat & then marcus gets facefucked by skorge (and then gangbanged by locust drones) [^]

Marcus tried to pull back, to close his mouth, to do anything, but the Locust's hold on his body was like rock, huge fingers shoved against the hinge of his jaw, the rocky palm keeping his face pressed against Myrrah's cunt as a huge, gooey egg pushed out between her gaping lips and into his mouth. Marcus tried to spit it out, to bite down on it, but the Locust behind him jerked his head back, sending the large egg sliding down to the back of his mouth, and then the device across his throat prickled, jolts of electricity sending stinging pain across his face as his muscles contracted involuntarily, forcing him to swallow the egg. He gagged, Imulsion slime squirting from his nose, frothing across his lips. It took multiple jolts, the huge egg distending as it got stuck in his throat, each painful swallow sending it slightly further down until it finally settled in his stomach, heavy and churning. He gasped, sucking in ragged breaths, throat clotted with slime. Then the next one crowned from her cunt. His lips were slack, stretched and aching, his jaw loose. It pushed into his mouth, and again the Locust tipped his head back. Pulses of electricity, short and sharp like a static shock, made his throat spasm and swallow. Each egg went easier than the last, burning yellow Imulsion slime coating his throat, transforming it into a slick passage. It was gritty and sour between his teeth, tarry and sticking against his gums. Imulsion slime drooled in clotted streams from his nose and mouth, glossy and bright. Her eggs squelched into his mouth, slime burbling around it, building up into a bubbly froth across his lips as egg after egg popped down his throat, choking and gasping. The room swam, every shape split double and quadruple. The sour rotten-metal taste of Imulsion was rank, soaking into his tongue; his face was glistening, coated in glowing yellow slime, smearing in crested peaks as Myrrah's gaping cunt lips dragged across his stubbled cheeks. Myrrah stepped back and he almost toppled forward; he dizzily realized he'd been leaning against her legs. Myrrah stepped away, leaving him lying forgotten on the floor, a sheen of Imulsion slime spreading slowly across the cracked tiles. Her voice rang out loud, something in her intonation triumphant. Marcus rocked over, summoning up the energy to simply roll onto his back -- the eggs shifted inside him, a heavy weight almost pinning him down -- and let his head loll to the side. There was an _army_ there, Locust hordes teeming before her. It was like watching a sergeant on the promenade, rallying the troops. And here Marcus was, bare-ass naked, coated in slime, stuffed full of eggs. His stomach was bulged and lumpy, the hot ache of his cock hidden under its new curve. Marcus tipped his head in the other direction. There was an honor guard behind him, huge drones heavy with alien regalia, its line ragged now as they gathered around him. The Locusts' touch, on his aching sides, lit a sweet heat through his skin. It sizzled, their rough hide dragging hot over new stretch marks, down over his hips. Marcus leaned into the touch, cock sliding neatly into a waiting palm, already slick with slime. Their cocks rutted against his hips, pulled from under their kilt-like concealing armor, drizzling Locust pre over his skin. Slowly, with his eyes closed, looking away from the Locust army; with Myrrah's voice still sounding triumphant in his ears as a long string of meaningless syllables: Marcus reached for them, sliding fingers under their clothes, palms dragging down the leathery Locust-hide of their stomachs, their hips, to the hot thick prongs jutting out, _steaming_ in the open air. They practically burnt his hand, hot to the touch, monstrously large and fatter than anything he'd ever seen before. They were lumpy, clustered with warts, with thick-skinned foreskins that dragged back and forth over their lopsided cockheads. Their balls were enormous, rolling over their thighs, and it took Marcus a moment to realize it was because they had four of them, each one fist-sized. The skin covering them was like rough leather, clustered with bloated warts, in layers of smooth-edged discs. They grunted lowly, cocks twitching: a moment later arcs of precome splattered over his stomach and thighs. Marcus stroked them off, their fat cockheads digging into the swell of his stomach, pre jizzing over his hips, smearing in tacky lines over his own cock. He could've used both hands on one of them and had room to spare, but instead he just slowly glossed his hands back and forth, slick-sticky with precome, their flesh hard but yielding under his touch. Marcus opened his eyes to see them kissing above him, fangs clacking against each other, tongues wetly tracing their lips and teeth. His cock pulsed, a dizzying bolt of _want_ racing down his spine, and he found himself struggling to sit up, trapped beneath the weight of his stomach. The Locust levered him up into a sitting position, on his knees between them. He lurched forward, open-mouthed, wetly panting against the Locust's shoulder as their cocks ground together, the mammoth club between his legs absolutely dwarfing Marcus'. The one behind him rutted forward, cock grinding up between his cheeks, with the tip mashed hard against the curve of his back. The Locust's balls were pressed against his ass, massive and low-hanging, shifting as they rutted against each other. He kissed the Locust, wet and desperate, groaning as he rocked against his bloated cock. Shocks ran down his spine, his asshole sweaty and puckered, twitching as the Locust's massive cock ground against it. He spread his legs, pushing back wantonly, the hairy cheeks of his ass spreading to reveal his tight hole. The Locust scattered, pulled away, and Marcus didn't even have time to yell before someone's hand caught his jaw. Marcus looked up, eyes focusing slowly on the form in front of him. It took a long moment for the bleary shape to resolve into... Skorge, his lips peeled back into a sneering smirk. "I'll fuck you," Skorge said, guttural-growling. "You're too important for just some drones to have their way with you." His whole body was shivery and hot, spikes of heat burning over his back as he looked up across Skorge's body. His muscles were fucking huge, but on his titanic frame they were still lean-looking; his stomach was chiseled, each muscle sharply defined under his mottled hide, his thighs were block-pillars, like cut marble, and all of it curved down to meet at his crotch, right in front of his face. Skorge shifted, hand pulling his loincloth off, and Marcus found himself leaning forward, mouth open, asshole _convulsing_, dizzy with want. Skorge's skin was a mottled off-white down his underbelly, creamy over his inner thighs. Marcus was fucking _drooling_ at the thought of his cock, the same warted white, fat and heavy. And then the cloth fell to the ground, revealing a slit between his legs, slick and dripping, the inner flesh a dimly-glowing yellow. _Humiliation_ pricked hot across Marcus' chest, even shuddering and feverish realizing that he was _disappointed_ that Skorge wasn't gonna fuck him with some kind of oozing, pustulent monster cock. Still, he toppled forward, pressing his slack mouth against the lips of Skorge's cunt, lapping inside. He tasted like Imulsion, rancid and sour, and Marcus moaned against his skin, his lips spread wide in an obscene kiss. Skorge laughed, deep and rumbling, and cupped the back of his head, grinding his face against his messy, drooling cunt. His slick lips spread around Marcus' mouth, sinking inside, and he just swallowed and swallowed, throat jerking as he drank down Skorge's slime, face pressed hard against the pebbly skin of his crotch. Skorge's cock came as a surprise. It was a hard nub in his cunt, drooling something salty, and as Marcus slurped around it, tongue stroking the underside, it pushed out, fat and jaw-stretching as it slipped into Marcus' mouth without once touching the open air. Skorge got hard, pushing the mammoth club of his cock past Marcus' lips, over his tongue. Cords of saliva and precome squelched in Marcus' mouth, bursting out past his aching lips in long, liquid slurps. Skorge's cock was lumpy and _spined_, fat spiky barbs along the underside, and they dragged over his lips and tongue, sharply scraping over his oversensitive skin. Skorge pushed Marcus' face into the slick mess of his cunt, the heavy pads of his fingers rough and scraping against the back of Marcus' head. His extending cock pushed right into the back of Marcus' mouth: there was the slightest hitch as the sharp, spike-crowned tip slotted into his throat, lubed by Imulsion slime and spit and Skorge's own slick, salt-sour juices. The wet gurgle of it cutting off his breath silenced a low, desperate moan, one that rumbled still deep in Marcus' chest. It pushed in easy, filling Marcus' convulsing throat, the spasming muscles working over the fat knobbled spines all across his length. Marcus gagged, coughing. His throat worked around the fat spire of Skorge's cock, coughing out thick lines of fluid -- phlegm and pre and dozens of kinds of Imulsion -- across Skorge's crotch. Scummy peaks of it smeared over Marcus' face and webbed between them, sliding in cords over Marcus' rough-stubbled cheeks as the sludge drooled down Skorge's thighs. Skorge worked his hips, fucking deep into Marcus' throat. His cock just kept extending, pushing through the slimy mess filling Marcus' throat. His neck bulged out, swollen. Skorge's whole shaft grew, the barbs fat and stiff, jutting straight out from his monster cock, pinning Marcus' tongue to the bottom of his mouth. Lumps distended his neck, moving up and down as Skorge _sawed_ into him, the spines catching and popping over his flesh as they pushed past his lips, throat, esophagus. Marcus gagged; an explosion of slime erupted from Marcus' nose and mouth in clotted streamers, running wet-hot over his face, dripping down his chin. He drew ragged breaths around the cock, throat stretched sloppily open, swallowing air and breathing slime, choking and coughing even more, until his eyes teared and his nose ran. The smallest fraction of Skorge's cock finally pushed out into the open air, between his cunt and Marcus' choking mouth. Marcus' bleary eyes focused on the fat length, nose pressed against its root, nostrils full of scum. The shaft was mottled cream-purple, warted and lumpy, with immense swollen veins bulging from its surface. Its spines flexed and twitched in his throat, pulsing with Skorge's twin heartbeats. His _balls_ were visible, half-inside his cunt, like fist-sized fruits, his sac smooth and shiny, prolapsed out from his cunt by its sheer size. Marcus' Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed the oozing slime eagerly, even as his lips split around the grotesquely-thick shaft. Skorge flexed his cock, the barbs flexing all down the length, cockhead snapping hugely wide almost in his _stomach_. Marcus burbled, slime spraying from his bleeding lips, thick ooze welling up from the spurting, leaking cockhead lodged deep in his spasming throat. Skorge's fingers squeezed on the back of his neck, drawing his face up. With a slow roll of his hips he drew fractionally back, dragging his cock through Marcus' stuffed mouth, and then rutted forwards, the minute fraction of his cock pummeling forward down into Marcus' mouth again, ramming his slack, gaping jaw against his gaping cunt lips. Marcus' whole body shook, muscles convulsing, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to push back or lean forward. Skorge fucked his mouth: filthy slime drooled from his aching lips, his jaw slack and open as it overflowed; his eyes silently teared, eyelids fluttering, half-clogged with slime; more clotted alien pre dripped from his nose, adding to the layers of murk clotted across his face. Marcus' lower lip dragged along the underside of his shaft, fat prongs ripping back and forth through the loose ring of his mouth, dragging over the satiny-sheer slickness of Marcus' swollen lips as he plunged in again and again, each time drawing out a wet hacking convulsion, chunky phlegm and clots of glossy locust jizz spraying across his naked thighs. One huge hand spanned over the back of Marcus' neck, his hips pistoning. The bloated, knobbled length of his cock squelched into Marcus' throat, over and over, churning up slime as Marcus gagged and choked. His cheeks bulged out with each thrust, a thick slurry of fluid welling over his swollen, bloodied lips. Thick lines of slime -- alien jizz and mucus and bile -- splattered across his slack face in viscous tendrils, smearing over his bare chest, down to his stubbornly-erect cock. Sick slurps filled the air, a hollow squelching, wetly, from deep in Marcus' chest as Skorge plumbed him deep. Skorge was quiet about it, the low creak of his flexing hide drowned out completely by the wet splatter of slime drooling down Marcus' face. He grunted, low, and growled, buzzing like a chainsaw. Overwhelmingly Marcus couldn't hear it, drowned out by the sound-sensation of his heartbeat, fast and hard, and Skorge's slower twin beat, heavy and throbbing through his cock, feeling like it was beating right through his core. He came with snarl, lips pulling back from his fangs as his cock pulsed again and again. To Marcus it was a dizzy weight, just adding to the aching stretch of his stomach. Skorge came straight down his throat, only the dregs of his load working their way up his throat, drooling grubby white around his over-stretched lips. It was almost gentle, Skorge cradling his head in one massive claw while his bloated shaft cracked his jaw wide, clots of jizz pumping with an audible gurgle into his swollen stomach. It was just that he didn't stop; his cock pumped time after time, each spurt spewing a burning-hot rope of jizz down Marcus' throat, until it felt like his stomach would burst. Skorge's spines caught against the inside of his throat, digging into the aching flesh there. His withdrawal felt like it would take Marcus' throat with it, turning him inside-out along the length of his monstrous shaft. Hundreds of spines dragged their way backwards up his throat, over his tongue, catching on his teeth. Skorge groaned, come flooding in thicker bursts, minutely higher in his throat as he tore his way out of Marcus' throat. His cockhead scraped upwards, above some knot of muscle, and the next gagging spasm closed around it, Marcus' mouth suddenly awash in bitter-sour jizz, chunky clots of it working up Skorge's shaft, spraying in a savage, wracking cough, burning through his sinuses and dripping in coagulated strands from his nose. He was awash in the rest of Skorge's load, his cock still pulsing as it dragged excruciatingingly slowly up his throat. The grey-white jizz was threaded through with veins of blood, bright red. Skorge pulled out in a flood of grimy white, painting Marcus' face with sluicing bursts. Chunks of jizz hung from ropes, dangling along Marcus' jaw, sliding down the back of his neck, pooling in his ears. His mouth was slack, a wet, red target for Skorge to aim the last of his orgasm, ropes splashing over Marcus' lips, drooling from his flushed and bloody lips. [...] "So does the savior of humanity have anything to say for himself?" Skorge said, hand catching Marcus' jaw loosely -- loosely, because he was just too slathered in jizz and slime to take firm hold. His claws dug into Marcus' skin. Marcus coughed more, wetly spitting up gummy chunks of blood-flecked jizz before speaking. "Fuck my ass." His voice was a ruined rasp, guttural and near-incoherent. Skorge let out a sharp bark of laughter, lip curling up to show his fangs. "You're some _primate_, thin-skinned and blunt-toothed. Our Queen ordered me to _fertilize_ your eggs; you couldn't pay me to fuck you." He shoved Marcus back, even as Marcus strained for the still-dripping length of his cock. Skorge sneered down at him. "The grunts will have their pleasure with you after all," he said, turning and walking away, claws _tak-tak-tak_ on the marble. Marcus' wobbling arms finally gave out and he slumped forward, almost facedown, ass in the air. He lay there, eyes sagging shut, arms taking just enough weight to keep his bloated stomach from pressing into the ground. There was a muffled shuffle around him, drones approaching again, their footfalls heavy and flat. The abrupt slide of a massive, misshapen cock against his stubbled cheek tore a groan out of him, his bloody, froth-flecked lips opening, simply an invitation to use his mouth as a hole. Another body settled against his legs, scorching hot hide pressing against the back of his hairy thighs, a cock like an iron weight pushing against his ass. Marcus couldn't tell if it was the same drones as before or new ones; it didn't matter. Their cocks were slick already, cocks spurting watery Locust pre in a constant stream. The one behind him dragged his cock back down the channel of Marcus' asscheeks, adding another layer of slime to his sweaty, soaking skin, all his hair already matted in a dark layer to the heavy curve of his ass. The drones didn't even try to prepare him, just shoved inside. His mouth was slack and open, the ramrod hardness of the cock filling the stretched, gaping emptiness down his throat in the aftermath of Myrrah and Skorge. His asshole was tight; the warty, lopsided span of the drone's cock dimpled against the pucker of flesh for a second before it crested inside. The fist-sized head slammed into him like a battering ram, spreading the way for the even-thicker shaft, warted and bulging, corded with bunched veins. Marcus yelled, throat opening wide, and the drone before him slammed up, driving his fat length of cock down his throat, dragging Marcus' head forward effortlessly. His spanning hand simply curled around the back of his head and let the weight of his hand coax Marcus down, until his face was buried in the drone's crotch. Marcus was red and flushed from lack of air, the bulb of the drone's cockhead distending his throat, jaw practically cracked open around the fat base, the locust's balls sweaty and hot, overflowing, pressed tight under the space of his chin. His face was flat and distended, nose flattened against the muscled plane of the drone's crotch, cheeks smeared between the iron-hard surface of the drone's inner thighs. The drones balls slapped against his neck, hitting the distended lump of his swollen cock, two of them alone spanning across his neck, all four of the drone's massive, misshapen testicles pressing back against Marcus' head, digging in rock-hard swells into Marcus' neck. [...] [...they kick marcus out & once he recovers and gets in contact w/ his team they're like "also we found a bunch of gears + civs who're in weird locust labs, including tanner & baird (held briefly), tai kaliso, jace stratton (held longer) and maria santiago (missing for ages)" and marcus is like "yo dom i'll get over there eventually, go for it"] "Marcus!" came Dom's voice, loud enough the radio cracked. "Holy shit, man, we thought we lost you!" "Still here." Marcus' voice was throaty, and he had to cough and wipe his mouth, spitting out globs of Locust jizz. "You missed a lot of shit, man -- those Locust labs -- there was --" Dom started, cutting himself off as he tried to summarize. "We found Maria!" "What?!" That was Dom's _wife_. She'd vanished years ago; taken by the Locust, and... and honestly, Marcus figured she was dead. "Those Locust labs were experimenting on humans, doing God knows what," Dom continued, "but there were hundreds of them, right under Jacinto! She's going to the evac point, but we stayed back to see if you'd show -- you good to get up here?" Marcus looked around at the ruins of Ilima, zig-zagging upwards in cracked plates, and then down at his own bloated gut. "Yeah, but it'll take a while. I'm still down deep, but I -- think the Locust are pulling back." Hopefully Dom wouldn't notice the pause. "We could come get you--" Dom started, but Marcus cut him off. "Go get her, man, I'll be fine." There was a pause, and then Dom's voice came through again: "Thanks, man." "See you soon. And Maria, too!" "Yeah." Marcus kept walking, looking for a way up. His whole body ached, gut heavy, ass swollen and chafing against his soaked pants. His skin was shiny with sweat, the air humid around him, and rank with Locust jizz. He couldn't even breathe deep; his lungs pushed against his stuffed stomach and made him dizzy. He had to stop every dozen steps and wait for things to stop spinning, panting for breath. When he heard gunfire ahead he couldn't even run towards it, having to keep up his lurching gait, even when the vague noises resolved to Locust roars and what was unmistakably Rook's voice, cursing out the Locust. The scene was almost pathetic when he finally got close enough to see, Rook bunkered down behind a tiny, waist-high wall, his gun overheated, a dozen Locust drones slowly flanking him. The Locust spotted him before Rook did -- actually, the closest drone started _sniffing_ the air, turning towards him with a leer on his bestial face that only grew when he saw Marcus staggering closer. He hooted, laughing, and the rest of the drones turned. He had to admit, after what happened -- there was a hungry, desperate part of him that wanted to get on his knees, spread himself open for the whole squad, beg them to take turns fucking him until the twitch in his hole was finally gone. He clenched, swollen asshole oozing out another slimy glob of jizz, soaking further into his ruined pants. Rook was still ducked behind the wall, oblivious, but the drones just looked between them and _left_, one of them sending off a mocking salute. Not worth killing a human already infested, he bet. "Marcus! I mean, Corporal!" Rook had finally noticed him approaching. "Get down, there are Locust!" Marcus put on his cockiest grin. "Not anymore. C'mon, man, we're getting out of here." He bet under Rook's helmet his brow was furrowing. "Out? But we just got here." "And we got what we were after -- come on, up." Marcus couldn't believe Rook hadn't _noticed_ -- Marcus was in his soaked army green undershirt, stomach almost too swollen for that, and he was just completely oblivious. Rook really was green; too green to keep himself alive for long. Not that -- not that it might matter, if what Myrrah had said was right. "We're headed up, so follow me."
Getting up and out took ages, and he ended up missing the rest of Delta-One -- they caught the King Eagle out before his. Between the rockworm -- which everyone else had seen, too -- and the few dozen freed Gears and hundreds of civilians, base camp was a complete mess. He got back to his bunk without seeing a single superior, and he sure as hell wasn't gonna go looking for a doctor for his post-op physical. After catching a few hours of feverish sleep, he woke up looking almost normal. His stomach still hurt, the eggs a solid, heavy weight in his guts. They distended him less, not noticeable unless he was naked, but they were a constant dull pressure under his abs. Pressure and heat. Sometimes he thought he could feel them squirming. After some sleep his long -- ordeal, sure -- at the hands of the Locust seemed like a long dizzy dream. He couldn't think about it without a hungry heat sweeping through him. He made himself not think about it, not long enough to revisit the sense-memory of being on his knees: mouth plugged with Skorge's cock; throat aching and bloody, stuffed with Locust cock as he sloppily sucked them off. No one wanted to talk about what happened -- not that anyone _really_ knew -- and that was fine by him; he didn't want to talk about it. Back at base, everything seemed... quiet. Calm. He was full of a jittery energy, his hands trembling, every movement tightly restrained to keep it from being too sharp, too violent. He tossed and turned all night, sweating through the thin sheet. He woke in the middle of the night and staggered to the bathroom, blindly turning on the sink and drinking straight from the tap, swallow after swallow until he had to pull back, water and sweat mixing as they dripped down his face. In the morning he ached all over, still feverish and hot. He was tangled in the threadbare sheet, translucent with sweat. The room was humid, sweat-smelling, with an undertone of sour metal. The heat of his body made his balls hang low, cock soft and thick. Even the brushing of his thighs against his dick was enough to make it twitch and stiffen, his feverish mind awash in half-dreams, Locust looming over him with their pronged dicks, thick dark slime bubbling from the tips; Myrrah standing in front of him, her cunt spread wide open as another egg pushed out, thick and gooey across his face; a crowd around him, Locust and Gears, naked and hard, monstrous cocks or bizarre alien inseminators jutting out from their crotches, dragging over his back as they took turns using his holes, until he was leaking seed and slime and eggs from every gaping orifice. Myrrah centered herself in his thoughts, this time fucking herself on his cock, head thrown back as he pounded her dripping cunt, juices squirting out across his thighs with each punishing thrust. Her breasts, firm and tight, jounced with each fall, and he could imagine her soft skin over his rough cheek, dimpling over his lips as he practically chewed on her nipples. Naked on the floor of a decaying grand hall, hundreds of Locust watching as he fucked Queen Myrrah. Her cunt slurped over his cock as she rode him, taking it balls-deep with each thrust. Marcus slammed into her hard, his powerfully-muscled body lifting her up into the air, bouncing her on his cock. Wet juices squelched with each thrust, dripping down his cock when he withdrew it from between her flushed, parted lips. His heavy balls started up a wet slapping rhythm against her asscheeks as he punched into her cunt, tight and grasping around his fat cock. There was an imagined scrape and shift, a clawed hand groping his bare ass, as Skorge moved against him, his freakish cock smearing cloudy precome against his thigh. For a second he thought of how Skorge had actually fucked him -- his cock pounding into his mouth, vile fluid splattering in every direction -- but in the fantasy Skorge pushed closer, his cock dragging along the curve of Marcus' thigh, the tip playing against the rim of Myrrah's gaping lips, its pointed tip digging into her. It slid in alongside the base of Marcus' cock, bottoming out with his spines dragging along the underside of Marcus' cock. On the next thrust, Skorge grabbed hold of Myrrah's thighs and _slammed_ her down on their cocks. Myrrah shrieked, cunt spasming against the extra girth, her swollen lips squelching and slurping as they both pistoned into her. Skorge thrust forward even after she was bottomed out on Marcus' cock, until his freakish, swollen balls were grinding against the base of Marcus' shaft on his withdrawal, the both of them slamming back and forth into her. Sprawled out on his bed, Marcus groaned, both hands wrapped around his cock, thinking of the gaping folds of Myrrah's cunt, juice streaming down his cock, hot internal muscles pulsating and squeezing the length of his cock, something deep inside her barely grasping ahold of his cockhead; of the fat ribs and thick spikes of Skorge's cock, the thick cartilage rubbing against his cock as they fucked her, the bloated alien balls slapping up against him crotch. His balls pulled up, pleasure shooting up his cock with each stroke, and he slowed his pace, trying to delay coming for at least a few seconds. His hand just felt so _good_, dripping with precome, dragging along his shaft and filling the room with wet, slick sounds. He thought of Skorge drawing back, cock emerging dripping from Myrrah's cunt, and sliding back to spear inside Marcus' ass, tearing into him in a single brutal thrust. The _smack_ when Skorge's balls would slap his ass, slick and dripping with Myrrah's juices and their mingled pre. The burning pain of the thrust itself, ripping inside him, spreading him out around Skorge's grotesque cock. Marcus came with a bellow, shaft pulsing as he hosed himself down, the first blast arcing high up in the air and coming down across his cheek and in his hair, the rest a thick gush spraying across his chest, pulse after pulse surging out of him until he just went limp, hand still loosely-coiled around his softening cock as it throbbed against his chest. He was gasping for breath, panting with his tongue hanging from mouth, the salty, heavy smell of come pervading his senses. He was heavy with pleasure, his muscles seeming made from wet concrete, so he lay there for a long while, come gelling across his body, until he finally opened his eyes. He was a mess, dark hair matted to his body, streaked down in rows where his comeshots had hit. Half-dried come crusted along the crags of his grizzled face, gritty over his cheeks. His cock was half-hard and immense, spanning across his stomach. Blinking tiredly, he ran a finger along the pointed tip, his cockslit parting easily into a wide hole, dregs of his orgasm spilling out as he rubbed his fingers down his shaft. His cockhead was partly flared, minute but distinct spikes across his cockhead; thick ringed ridges swelling around his shaft beneath the skin. More of it than he remembered spilled out from his loose foreskin, its fat wrinkles almost halfway down his shaft, the skin loose and heavy, flushed a rich, solid red. His fingers slid around the fat, uneven rings, and another thick spill of come dribbled down his dick, clinging to the spikes in fat droplets. He was still too relaxed from his orgasm to think much of it. He staggered to his feet and went to the bathroom to hose himself down, his cock softening back into his foreskin, looking nothing out of the ordinary -- maybe a little thicker than usual -- and by the time he was done and his head was clear he was sure it was just another part of his fever dream of a fantasy. He must've been more out of it than he thought, if that was the kind of shit his mind was churning out. It was only after that that he realized he hadn't heard a peep from Dom since they talked in the Hollow, and it was absent-minded habit more than any conscious thought that had him head down to his berth, half-dressed. He bashed on Dom's door, and only in the pause afterward realized that Dom was _with Maria_. Sure enough, Dom cracked the door a few seconds later, with only a thin sheet clutched around his waist, dipping so low it wasn't hiding anything. The room stunk of sex; there were splotches of dried jizz across Dom's thigh. "Sorry, man, I wasn't thinking--" Marcus started, but Dom but grinned wide and dragged him inside. His eyes cut over to the narrow berth, where Maria was curled around the spot where Dom had clearly been lying only moments before, a sheet low on her hips. She was tanned darker; hair spread around her shoulders, shorter than she'd worn it before; and with faint folds on her cheeks, but she was unmistakably the same woman. He wondered if she'd been surprised by Dom's beard, coarse and wild where it'd been neat and trimmed years ago. "Marcus! Man, holy shit!" Dom hooked his free arm around Marcus' neck and dragged him forward, to where Maria was stretching and waking. It was strange, like going back ten years in a single step, watching Dom and Maria fall in love, long nights spent all tangled together with the newlywed couple. In his memory he felt impossibly young, the last time he'd seen Maria. "Maria. Good to have you back." Maria sat up, only belatedly tugging the sheet up to cover her breasts. It wasn't like anything he hadn't seen before. "You too, Marcus," she said, with a faint smile. "Thanks for taking care of Dominic." "No problem; the asshole's like a brother to me, you know how it is." Marcus shifted, unsure. "You holding up okay?" Maria breathed in, slow. "It can be... difficult. But now's a time to be glad, that I've found Dom again." A dirty smirk pulled up her lips. "Found him pretty extensively." "I should probably leave you two--" Marcus started, before Maria cut him off. "Oh please, Marcus." Maria smirked, like she knew exactly what he was thinking. "Unless you have somewhere better to be, get in the damn bed." Marcus chuckled. "You always did have a way with words." "Sorry, man," Dom said, pressed against his back. "Didn't mean to--" "Oh, yeah, forcing me into a threesome," Marcus said, tugging his tank over his head. "Such a fucking chore." He still ached from the pounding he'd taken from the Locust, but he was tenting his sweats before either of them touched him, cock drooling eagerly. Maria let the sheet fall, baring her breasts, and Marcus knelt down, rough lips kissing her before he traced a line down her chest, lapping at a heavy nipple before dragging his stubble-rough cheek over her stomach, lifting the sheet aside to press his mouth against her lower lips in a wet kiss. Maria moaned above him, her hips arching forward, and Marcus lapped into her, tasting the salt of Dom's jizz already, slick and rich from what had to be only minutes ago. "You two just don't wait around, huh?" he said, close enough his lips dragged over Maria's slick folds. [...]

marcus jerks off thinking about getting fucked [^]

His foreskin was engorged, flesh twice as thick, and when he pulled it back it folded over itself in solid, chunky rolls. It dragged over his cockhead weird, catching when he pulled it back. There were ridges on his cock; the rim of his cockhead had gone all zigzagged: short broad spines, ringed all around the tip. Marcus licked his thumb, then dragged it across them, unprepared for the bolt of sensation that shot through his body. It was like his cock was an electric rod, buzzing, and he'd closed the circuit. His cockhead was almost painfully sensitive, the sensation so overwhelming it took seconds for him to realize it didn't hurt. He rubbed his thumb against his skin, cock dribbling pre as he wrapped his fingers around the tip, rolling back and forth over the new spines, other hand working his shaft. He grunted, hips jerking up off the bed with each stroke, pre crackling as it dribbled under his palms. His balls felt so heavy, like lead weights anchored to the base of his shaft; on the down stroke he ground his palm against them, groaning louder as they rolled and shifted in their sac. His cock lurched and shot pre across his belly, a splash of heat, and he started thrusting, roughly fucking his hands. He'd been so fucking horny ever since... ever since -- Fuck, he wanted Skorge here. Climbing onto the bed and shoving his hands off his cock, claws pinpoints over the curve of his ass, until Skorge'd shove them right up Marcus' ass, lube him up with pre and spit. His cock, fuck, so fat and heavy, way bigger than Marcus' even with this new growth, it'd be pulsing against the back of his thigh, grinding as Skorge fingerfucked him, gushing pre across his leg. He'd angle down, pushing his cockhead to Marcus' asshole, spreading his hole with his fingers so each spurt would flood into him, sloppy and wet filling him up. He wanted Locust Drones here too, surrounding him, huge heavy hands cupping his sides, wrapped around his neck. Grinding their dicks against him, over his chest and drooling into his hair. They'd push him onto their cocks, three different hands guiding his head as he sunk down some huge, lumpy Locust dick -- and Marcus opened up, tongue lapping his teeth, swallowing on nothing as he kept fucking his hands, lost in his fantasy. They'd shove him down to the base, make him choke. Pull him off with a pop only to tip his head the other way, give him a fresh cock, until all of them were shiny and dripping with his spit, gushing pre across his messy face. More than anything else since, each swallow jostled the heavy weight of eggs inside him, lurching and churning deep in his gut, the solid reminder of what had happened. And Skorge would finally shove into him, his whole cock all the way jammed into Marcus' ass, his fat cunt lips pressing right against Marcus' hole. Skorge'd fuck him mercilessly, body rocking with each thrust, jarring the cock in his mouth, making the hands clamped all across his body grip harder, until -- Marcus blew with a strangled moan, cock erupting in a gush that splattered him from belly to crown, hitting the wall behind the bed with a crack. And then again, and again, and again, the tug of his foreskin over his new spines coaxing out gush after gush as he thought about Skorge power-fucking him, fucking his load right out of him, until Skorge blew and was replaced by Drone after Drone, an endless line of Locust fucking him over and over... Marcus kept jerking, his load a solid weight across his chest, ticklish streams curving over his sides, dribbling down his neck and caught in his soul-patch, salty when some dribbled into his mouth. His balls furrowed tight up against the base of his dick. Each pulse splattered across his chest; he aimed his cock so he kept coming all over himself, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he milked his load out for what seemed like minutes, pumping until his load lathered under his fingers, squelching and slurping and growing tacky as his cock kept dribbling, weak tremors of pleasure rushing through his overstimulated cock. He finally opened his eyes, squinting as some come dribbled down his brow, and let his cock drop against his stomach with a wet slap and a final pang of pleasure, a limp heavy weight, still engorged with blood but slowly softening. Eggs churned in his gut, seemingly pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He swiped his fingers through the mess splattered across his chest, swiping up his neck and shoving his fingers in his mouth, the tasty salty and rich across his tongue, bitter and acrid. The taste was heavier than he expected, rancid and metallic, and he blinked, dazed, and caught a fat blob clinging to his chin. His come was cloudy, tinged a rich yellow-orange. Marcus licked his teeth: Imulsion, taste burning across his tongue. He let his head drop and shoved his fingers back into his mouth, lapping his fingers and drinking down the rest of his load, fingers dragging across his chest until there was nothing but smears left. He let his hand fall, afterglow weighing him down, and let himself doze off. woke feverish, body burning, and the slap of water from the shower felt frigid until it turned it all the way up, to what he knew used to feel scalding. His cock and balls clapped his thighs with every step he took, swaying heavy and low, sending a pang of pleasure burning up his stomach; he was drooling pre by the time he actually stepped into the shower, steaming water mixing with his pre and forming a thin, slimy mess continually drooling from his cock. His cockhead looked alien even still sheathed in his foreskin, spines grown gigantic and tugging the flesh back, loose skin stretched out between them in webs. His spines had grown ridges, thick swells of flesh making each one puffy and fat, deep furrows between them. They all met at the tip of his cock, and what had been his piss slit was now a messy star-shaped orifice, dribbling orange-pink pre down his shaft. It perpetually peeked from his foreskin, skin not ample enough to cover the thing his cock was growing into. Marcus tugged his foreskin back, skin stretching like rubber. A bolt of pleasure hit him, like he was struck by lightning, and his legs gave out under him, bashing a knee on the shower stall before he hit the ground on his knees. His foreskin pinned his spines to his shaft, and in response his cockslit yawned open, orifice opening like a mouth, and the stretch and shift was -- there was nothing like it he'd ever felt. He groaned, blindly working his foreskin back and forth, playing with his alien cock. Each tug made it erupt, a gush of rancid, sour pre pulsing out, messily erupting in all directions, and Marcus shoveled it into his mouth, moaning around his fingers as he gulped it down. Easily one gush of pre was more than he used to come, even, thick ribbons of grimy ooze squirting out from inside his feverish body. His balls ached, firm and burning hot to the touch, pulsing with an alien heartbeat. He found himself kneeling on the shower floor, both hands wrapped around his monstrous cock, balls knocking against his taint as he fucked his fists, panting and gasping. Water pounded down across his shoulders and face, thinning the bizarre orange slime his cock was gushing, forming slimy, liquid tendrils spilling all down the underside and spiralling down the drain. He nearly sobbed from the sensation, each flex of his clenching fingers sending a bolt of sensation up through his body, resonating, and he lost track of everything else, mouth hanging open, filling up with shower water as he mindlessly played with his cock, blood roaring in his ears. He was moaning, probably, yowling more like it, huffing and panting and choking on the water flooding his mouth, only really aware of the beat of his cock, his hands smacking against his hips, tugging his foreskin down so that it stretched over his barbs. The slime coating his fingers made his grip slip and slide, making him sling his cock this way and that. His orgasm approaching felt like somebody grabbing his balls and squeezing _hard_, like fingers reaching up inside him and ruthlessly yanking on his guts. Marcus bellowed, gurgling, and his cock absolutely exploded in enormous shots of reeking, Imulsion-scented come. He was keening, a continual grating whine that buzzed off the shower walls and reverberated across his skin. And all the while he was thrusting, humping his monstrous cock through his tightly-clenched fists, shooting weird, chunky ooze against the shower wall, grey gel threaded through with a syrupy orange, in pulse after pulse until his cock ached. The thickened flesh of his sac clenched and furrowed; his balls ached, throbbing like hearts, and with each beat he could feel thick ooze squirt up, winding through bloated internal passages to spray from his gushing cock, in rope after rope, hot cords smacking against the wall with soggy cracks. Everything whited out; Marcus was dimly aware of a moment of vertigo, of losing his balance and crashing against the wall -- ooze squelching across his shoulder and side -- and just gasping, letting out broken moans as his cock kept pumping, pouring gritty ooze all across his thighs. Thick silty dregs forming hot pools where his legs blocked the flow to the drain, the sludge lapping up and up across his calves until they crested past his knee. His cock weakly pulsing in his hands, spilling the last of his load in chunky blobs down across his fingers. It had to have been minutes before his orgasm stopped, and minutes past that before he could do anything aside from gasp for breath, dimly aware of the wet trickle of his own load spilling across his shoulders, down his chest and back. When he finally opened his eyes, the shower was a _mess_. Thick ribbons of slime were splattered all across the dingy beige tiles, dollops forming stiff peaks in a messy impact-pattern all across the wall. The floor was all slimy, slick and sticky at once, and the cloudy pool across his leg was a curdled-looking mess of opaque grey ooze mixed in with translucent orange globs that had risen to the top. When he stood up -- leaning heavily against the wall, cock a heavy weight pulling down on him -- the mess all just clung to his leg, only thinning slightly when he turned toward the shower spray. The water had gone all tepid, too; bitterly cold against his feverish skin. Marcus wrung out his dick -- a thick silty ooze still clogging it up -- and sluggishly scraped the worst of the mess off of him. He was messier when he stepped out of the shower, coated in an oily layer of thinned come all across his body, slimy chunks tangled in his sodden leg hair.

marcus and dom fuck & marcus shows off his half-transformed dick [^]

still dripping from the shower, towel scrubbing across his scalp when Dom crashed into the room. Dom wasn't in any hurry; they'd both just made a habit of not knocking, and Marcus only got a fraction of a second of a warning, Dom's shoulder hitting the door as he twisted the knob. As it was, Marcus was just standing there, mutated dick nearly knocking against his knees, the spiny head still dripping strange pre, when Dom sprawled inside, his greeting dying on his lips. "I'm _sure_ you didn't have that when we fucked," Dom said. "It's new," Marcus said, still not-- entirely sure exactly how to take it, honestly. But... "Wanna try it out?" He tugged the base, the thing obligingly shuddering and thickening, foreskin peeling down over his spines. A shudder ran through it, cockslit gaping as it spat out a thick cord of pre that splattered to the floor, followed by a continual sluggish flow, like he was just pissing it out. Dom got down on his knees, lips dragging up the length of Marcus' shaft. He got to the tip, tongue swiping across Marcus' spinetips -- Marcus writhed on the bed helplessly, grunting and drooling, hips jerking up as he tried to pummel his cock into Dom's mouth -- and got a faceful of alien pre for his efforts, clumpy chunks gathering in his beard while the thinner mess drooled down his neck. His lips wrapped around the tip, stretching wide to take in the fan of spines, and he slowly took it in. Dom's lips wrapped around his cockhead, spines and all, and the next gush of pre was enough to bloat his cheeks, Dom coughing and gagging, spraying pre down Marcus' shaft as he gagged, beads of ooze drooling from his nose as he sputtered. His tongue slid between two of the chunky spines, smearing between the crown of points, and then shoved right into what had once been his cockslit: now a pulsing clenching mouth, all but kissing Dom back as he slurped on Marcus' transformed dick. { REDACTED I GUESS?? i don't think this fits in anywhere now [ put the tai scene in here?? or maybe even earlier. the beginning of this is a mess, but i'd like to at least VAGUELY stick to the "canon timeline", namely, marcus w/ ben carmine heads down into the ilima depths and at some point runs into tai. so that would place this much much earlier than this scene is ] or at least, he hadn't told anyone about his mutating cock or the gut full of Locust eggs, so he'd been in active rotation. At least now he could put on his armor without the pressure against his gut making him want to puke: the eggs had settled down, compacted, become a heavy, throbbing weight that he could feel every time he moved. But a weight that didn't stretch his stomach out as much as it had at first. shoved Marcus inside; Marcus caught himself on all fours before he went sprawling all across the rough concrete, his armored palms scraping on the floor as he went down. The door behind him slammed shut with a heavy _clang_, the sharp sound of the lock snapping into place echoing in the room a second later. He was only vaguely aware of the rest of the room in that first instant, but by the time he'd pulled himself to his feet he'd noticed there was somebody else in the cell: sitting against the wall, bare-chested. Motherfucking _Tai Kaliso_, tattoos a messy spiral across his body, the skin of his chest and arms ravaged: bruised and clawed at, like the aftermath of Locust torture. Tai opened his eyes, not moving from his meditative position. "Marcus," he said, levelly. "You're here." Marcus scrambled to his feet. "You think?!" hadn't realized; Tai wasn't just stripped to the waist or his underwear; he was bare-assed naked sitting on the concrete floor. Marcus could see his cock, soft and nestled over his fat balls, framed by his stiff-looking pubes. The heavy coils of his tribal tattoo wound thickly across his stomach and one thigh, dipping down to point towards his crotch with sharp lines. {Maybe that was just Marcus' interpretation, though. Ever since-- Hell, there was some part of him that was disappointed the Locust here hadn't stripped him of more than his weapons: had him just as naked as Tai, shoved to the floor so they could stuff him full of cock. He was just horny _all the time_, and his extra-huge, extra-sensitive mutant cock just made it all worse. Just having Tai in front of him was making him think about... about crawling down on all fours and seeing if Tai would let him suck his cock, just burying his head in the guy's pubes and letting his cock fatten in his mouth. His own cock throbbed in his pants, thickening; a wet dribble of pre lurched out of him with a spasm that seemed to reverberate all up and down his front.} Marcus shook his head roughly, trying to clear it [ anyway after 'rescuing' tai, i guess ] }

marcus at the base gloryhole [^]

Marcus was dizzy with need and it was only getting worse. His cock pulsed in time with his rapid heartbeat, flesh flush and red, perpetually-half hard. It was monstrously thick and heavy, solid enough to swing between his legs like a weighed pendulum, making loud, obscene cracks of flesh hitting flesh as it bashed against his thighs every time he tried walking. He was too big for his foreskin; half the inhuman head of his cock hung out in the open, and the slightest brush of the raw flesh against his hairy thighs -- hell, against the open air -- made his shaft shudder and lurch, starting to steadily drool slime in messy smears all down his legs. His balls _ached_, throbbing like he had a fucking torsion, swollen to almost fist-sized. They seemed denser and denser, heavier even for their gargantuan size, and the flushed heat of his body mae his sac hang down loose, skin taut and smooth. He could feel his fucking prostate, a constant swollen knot of pressure inside him. Some internal muscles convulsed, and his cock drooled pre in a solid rope. He couldn't even call it a cock anymore, hardly. Some kind of alien breeding organ, inhuman and bloated, ripe and potent and needy. He couldn't stop thinking about fucking. The bathrooms were an ugly grey-and-beige, never more than functional even in their prime. It was divided into two half-rooms, one stalls and urinals, the other showers and lockers, and the worst-kept secret on the ship were the holes through the walls in the second-to-last stall -- huge chunks of the wall bashed out, enough for someone to fit their whole head through if they were persistent enough, covered with thin plastic covers that rotated out of the way on a dingy screw. He'd gotten his cock sucked more times than he could count there, and sometimes even been so hard-up he fucked whichever cockhound was on the other side of the wall. Just his luck, though -- this early in the evening the stall doors were all wide open, vacant. Marcus growled, his cock twitching in his pants. Somehow, though, he walked down the line anyway, as if to make sure there really wasn't someone waiting there. His footsteps stopped outside the second-to-last stall. Its walls -- and the surrounding stalls -- were covered in graffiti and obscene drawings, the floor perpetually sticky with come, the smell rank and offensive. His cock lengthened, bulging down one pant leg. The spines pulled free of his foreskin with a lurch, the stiff struts painfully sensitive as they ground against the inside of his clothes. Not even thinking, Marcus stepped into the stall and closed the door behind him. He settled himself on the seat of the toilet, waiting. He wanted to say -- the smell was overpowering, he wasn't thinking clearly, he was just so turned on -- but honestly all he could think of was the moment when he was forced to his knees in front of Skorge, that massive _thing_ dripping vile fluid across his lips, the firmness of his cockhead as it rubbed over his lips, the salty, chemical taste leeching into his mouth as his lips parted. He wanted to suck cock. _Skorge's_ cock, or failing that any Locust's, but even without that, he could suck off his crewmates. His cock spurt precome, and it was hard to fish it from his pants; the spines dragged backwards against the saturated fabric, a too-intense frisson racing up his body and ripping a guttural groan from his throat. He stroked himself off, palm soon dripping precome, the swollen, dark-purple head gaping wide. It winked at him, fractionally away from his face, and he realized he'd been stooping down, mouth wide, cock throbbing scant inches from his lips. He was so big now it wasn't even hard to lean forward that final sliver and brush his cockhead across his lips. He sucked it into his mouth, the drag hot and wet, rough against his tongue, slick and smooth over his cockhead. It was... not as great as he expected. God, he loved the feel of it in his mouth, the fat heat, the thick spines, precome and drool pouring out of his mouth as he tried to fit the entire thing in. But if anything the wet suction on his cockhead distracted him from the sheer pleasure of having a cock in his mouth. He wanted to be on his knees in front of someone, he wanted their hands -- or claws -- grabbing his hair, pounding into him like he was a hole to be used. In his mouth, his cock pulsed, a gush of precome spraying across the roof of his mouth, and he moaned, slurping loudly on his own cock, acting on some primal urge as he kissed his fat, sharp cockhead, tongue slipping across the gaping slit until he pushed inside, his cockhead warping around the muscle. The sound was muffled, distorted into obscene slurps and pops as precome and drool poured from his spread lips, but even through it Marcus heard the steady taps of footsteps approaching. "Man, did you get lonely without a cock to suck on?" came a voice, followed by a slap against the stall door as the man stepped into the final stall. He unzipped himself, loudly, and Marcus, quicker than he could blink, had his precome-smeared hands on the plate, sliding it away from the hole. "I got more than enough cock for you to take care of." And just like that he shoved his cock through the hole, his length still soft and hanging down over his heavy balls. It wasn't the biggest cock Marcus had ever seen, but he was on it, ravenously. He sucked the head into his mouth, tongue pressing against his hooded foreskin and slipping inside, rubbing up and down against his glans as he bobbed back and forth on the cock. He wanted spines and that burning, acrid chemical taste, but this was good enough. The cock was rubbery, still mostly soft, and Marcus slurped the whole thing into his mouth, tongue tapping along the underside, feeling the slide of loose skin over the solid meat of the shaft. The other man groaned, more performative than anything else: "Hungry for my cock, huh? Good." Marcus just growled in response, lips slurping against the hairy root of the man's cock, the rubbery cockhead only just starting to ooze pre in the back of his throat, cockhead fattening up as he started to get hard. [marcus blows this guy and then somebody else shows up:]

marcus/baird/cole spitroast at the gloryholes [^]

The bathroom door crashed open, rebounding against the broken tiles, and Marcus lurched back, cock pulling from his throat with a wet _slurp_, leaving glimmering threads of spit webbed back on the cock, thicker cords snapping and splattering down his jaw. He breathed hard, watching the cock in front of him; it throbbed from the man's heartbeat, and twitched up every few pulses. "What you fuckin' waiting for," the guy said, no concern at all over being overheard. "Get back on my fuckin' dick!" [it's cole and baird coming in; they exchange some dialog that's just like, the guy in there says 'occupied', & cole laughs and is like, no rush, just gonna jerk off a little hearing you wreck that guy's throat', and baird's like, fuck off put that thing away. marcus recognizes their voices. marcus blows/jerks off the guy, who cums all over his face, and then:] The slap of a high-five as the man left the stall, Cole swaggering in and not even bothering to close the stall door. Marcus caught a glimpse of him grabbing his crotch, COG armor hanging loose as he whipped out his cock and shoved it through the hole. He was _huge_, a foot long and only half-hard, with a thick branching vein all along the left side of his shaft. His cockhead was a fat knob at the end of his dick, flushed deep purple, with a finger-thick flange over the ridge of his curved cockhead. It was the closest thing to a Locust dick he'd seen all day, and he couldn't contain the deep rumbling moan, followed almost instantly by Cole's laughter. "Yeah babe, I know it's a great cock, so how about you suck on it for a while?" Marcus dove onto his dick. His lips were rubbery and slick from cocksucking, and they slid smoothly over his fat head. He took in almost the entire thing in one smooth dive. "Awww yeah, baby," Cole said, loud enough Baird's unmistakable voice called at him to shut up from across the room. "You know you're just jealous you didn't -- ah, god_damn_," he cut himself off as Marcus sucked his dick down to the root, his cockhead lodged in his throat, salty precome dripping straight into his stomach. Cole's cock twitched in his throat, and as if in response Marcus' dick throbbed, slapping up against the hosed-down dividing wall with a dull thump, his precome spurting up high enough it splattered across Marcus' chin, streams of it winding down his craggy cheeks, flabby strings dripping from his soul patch. "Damn, baby, you eager tonight," Cole said. Baird said something else, closer now, but Marcus didn't hear it, his pulse pounding in his ears as he slurped on Cole's cock, the mammoth length of it jaw-crackingly wide. He couldn't contain the choked grunts as he slammed Cole's cock against the back of his throat each time, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. Cole moaned, cock drizzling more pre into Marcus' mouth, Baird's cursing right outside the stall now. He and Cole were _talking_, about some dumb altercation on their crew detail, Cole's voice barely uneven as Marcus bobbed up and down on his cock. "Hey, babe," Cole said, interrupting himself with a soft grunt as his cock bottomed out, Marcus' lips stretched and spread around the fat base of his cock. "M' friend here wants a turn at your mouth, and what I really want is to fuck your tight ass, so how about you turn around and show me your sweet little cunt?" Marcus' head spun as he thought about it. Baird's voice rang out, loud and clear, "Fuck, Cole, you ain't gotta sweet-talk the whore," as he sat there. His pants were undone, down around his ankles, his cheeks spread. He swiped a hand across the wall, sheets of precome sliding down it, a fat line forming at the bottom and dripping onto the saturated floor. His slimy fingers scraped over his hairy ass, sliding right between his cheeks, and it was embarrassing how easy his fingers pushed inside his pucker. Muscles he didn't even know he had clenched, practically massaging his fingers, and it hadn't even been seconds after Cole had asked that he had three fingers knuckle-deep in his ass, precome streaming over his fingers as he fucked himself. He hoped it was enough, but fuck, if he could take a Locust cock to the balls without any prep... He pulled off Cole's dick with a wet gurgling slurp -- Baird said "Fuck, how many cocks you sucked already tonight, man?" -- and shuffled around, ass brushing against Cole's erect dick as he slid the massive thing between his cheeks, the head dripping precome down onto the small of his back. "Sit back baby, push your hole right up to me," Cole said, stepping back from the hole. His cock dragged over Marcus' cheeks, and he almost fell back when the solid weight of Cole's body was gone. He shoved his ass right up against the hole, his asshole right in the middle. "Aww yeah girl, that's a prime ass, fuck, you must be new here." Marcus braced himself for Cole's cock, shocked when something wet and hot trailed across his crack, Cole's voice abruptly muffled. It was his _tongue_, sliding up and down his hairy crack, licking up his dripping precome before spearing his asshole. Marcus let out a surprised moan, arching his back up and shoving his ass back against the wall. The cheap plastic creaked ominously; the entire wall bowed back from the pressure. The wall in front of him thumped, and Baird called out: "Hey, slut, open wide, I got something that'll shut you up." The partition was bent forward, the shadow of Baird's cock dark against it. With unsteady hands Marcus slid it up, letting Baird's cock spring out. It glanced against Marcus' craggy cheek, smacking wetly over his face. He just stared. He thought Cole was big; Baird was _enormous_. The thing spanned his inner thighs, fat and bent upwards, the shaft swelling out into a huge swollen bullet. It was _long_, the base buried in messy blond curls that crept up the shaft, but even with the base fuzzy and hidden, the rest of his cock had to be longer than both of Marcus' hands put together, fingertip to base. It was almost — almost — as big as Skorge's cock. The head hung against his tongue, wet and succulent like a grotesque fruit, firm and sweat-salty over his lips. The ridge of his cockhead popped over his glossy lips as he sucked it down. It went down his throat easy, to Baird's loud curse, and the dizzy euphoria of choking on it, his throat gagging and seizing even as he tried to take in more, reminded him again of being on his knees in front of Myrrah and Skorge. His asshole was open wide, Cole's nose nudging up and down his crack as he ate him out, his tongue and now _lips_ kissing his gaping hole. Lewd smacking, kissing sounds echoing from the stall as Cole played with his asshole. Baird banged on the stall wall again. "Yo, Cole, fuck the slut, I don't wanna have to hear you making out with his hairy goddamn pussy!" Cole's laughter came in little puffs of air across his crack, and Marcus' entire body shuddered. His asshole opened wider, cold air blowing over his wet ring, open like a hungry mouth. He hadn't even been thinking, anticipation lighting in his stomach as his thoughts turned to his hungry asshole. Baird's cock was in his mouth: thrusting and plunging down his throat, precome and drool dripping down the shaft and matting his messy pubes to his skin. He wanted Cole's cock in his ass, _now_, and if it hadn't been for Baird he would've been begging and pleading, uncaring if they recognized it was _him_. "Here it comes, baby." Cole finally drew back from his ass, spit dripping down Marcus' crack, cooling slightly. Cole pushed his fat cockhead against Marcus' pucker, sliding through the spit, and his shaft slipped inside almost effortlessly. Cole moaned, not thrusting as much as simply pushing forward, and Marcus' ass gobbled up his cock until the entire thing was hilted inside him, no problem. "Oh, baby, your ass feels so good around my dick." Cole grabbed his ass, drawing him back through the stall hole, and thrust, driving his cock back inside him in one sharp plunge. "Fuck yeah." "Shut the fuck up!" Baird yelled, and Cole just laughed. Marcus was drooling and slurping on his cock, still gagging as he thrust ruthlessly down his throat, and Baird's only response was an even louder list of blistering obscenities, his voice growing shakier as Marcus kept sucking him off, throat gripping at his cockhead, tongue sliding fat and glossy across the underside of his shaft, lapping at the tight skin of his balls when Baird would thrust to the root, his fat balls slapping across Marcus' chiseled face. The whole fucking partition shuddered, _bang-bang-bang_ as Baird thrust into his gaping mouth, the plastic frame rattling against its bolts, bowing back and forth like a drumhead. "Christ, take my load," Baird said, panting and grunting. He fucked in short strokes, cock pounding against Marcus' sloppy mouth, crackles and glugs as he plumbed down his throat, churning up phlegm and pre, fat globs of it pouring out of Marcus' mouth around his cock, spattering against the wall and down into the floor. His lips were swollen and smooth, aching as they stretched around the fat base of his cock. Baird hunched forward, wall shuddering and _cracking_ as he hilted in Marcus' mouth, balls pressed up tight to his chin, cords of spit and jizz crackling as he ground his balls against Marcus' face. He fucking _bellowed_ when he came, slamming forward until Marcus' lips were stretched around the base of his cock, pubes in his mouth and his immense fleecy nuts hanging over his chin, pushed up against his Adam's apple. His cock pulsed, veins bulging out all down its length as it shuddered, shooting rope after rope of come straight into Marcus' stomach. He swallowed, uselessly, milking it for all his jizz, his throat grasping hungry around its swollen length.

marcus/dom in the stall [^]

[... TODO: dom blows marcus earlier & they actually talk about his weird locust dick so it's more casually ignored here] [... afterwards Dom comes by and sucks Marcus' freaky alien dick...] "Of course I knew it was you; we've known each other for decades. I can tell your voice from your screams, I sure as hell can tell it from you taking it like a bitch." He hammered on the door again. "Open the fucking door." Marcus looked around him. Come was still drooling down both stall holes, he was stripped to his thighs, spit and come in a messy river from his lips down to his chest, and his cock -- fully erect, spines flared, cockslit gaping open like a mouth and oozing cloudy slime -- was hanging in front of him, so immense and heavy it couldn't even stand up straight. Marcus opened the door. Dom took in the scene in an instant, his everpresent scowl not lessening a bit. He stepped forward, shoving Marcus back against the toilet tank, and climbing on top of him, straddling his thighs with his monster dick throbbing between them, Dom's hands on his shoulders, and his lips -- suddenly -- pressed against Marcus'. His beard was unexpectedly soft this close, brushing against the mess of come dripping down his chin. And then his _tongue_ was in his mouth, hot and wet and pushing. Marcus found himself sucking on it, a low groan ripping up his throat as Dom pushed him back, pinning his arms to his sides -- not like he was going to try anything -- as he kissed him rough and deep. Dom finally pulled back with a gasp, his lips already flushed a ruby red, looking almost as rough as Marcus' lips felt. And then he fell to his knees and sucked the head of Marcus' dick into his mouth. Marcus couldn't contain a low "Aw, _fuck_," his cock spitting slime like he'd just come, but Dom just swallowed and then swallowed, his tongue lashing against the fat spines and then slow trailing up his cockhead and spearing right inside his gaping cockslit. Marcus bellowed, hands suddenly on the back of Dom's head, pulling him down as he thrust up, burying what had to be a foot of his cock deep into his throat. He could _see_ it, the muscles of Dom's throat clenching and then opening, swelling larger as his monster cock plunged down his throat. "Holy shit!" came a less familiar voice, and Marcus' head snapped up. Stratton was standing in the stall door, staring down at Dom. "Cole said --" Marcus' first reaction wasn't to make sure his freakish cock was entirely hidden down Dom's throat or even to wipe his mouth. "Fuck off, Stratton," he said, leisurely pulling Dom back and forth on his cock, the most obscene gulping, slurping noises coming from him as he kept trying to swallow Marcus' copious cock slime. "Can't ya see we're busy?" Marcus' cock lurched, and the rumble of pleasure Dom made was practically inhuman, a deep groan, muffled and sloppy. Marcus stroked the side of his face, come-streaked fingers working through his beard and grinding across the firm curve of his jaw, trembling against his finger as Dom swallowed and swallowed. "_He's_ who they fucked?!" Stratton said, still staring at the back of Dom's head, bobbing up and down on Marcus' cock, his heavy COG uniform clearly tenting as Dom kept sucking him off. "Fuck _off_, Stratton!" Marcus said. "Ain't a guy got any privacy these days? I have to stand up, you won't like what happens." "Yeah, yeah," Stratton stepped back, his hands up. "I'll just... leave you two." "Fuckhead," Marcus cursed lowly as he stepped away, and Dom laughed lowly, throat convulsing around his cock. "Yeah, sweetheart, keep that up." "Don't fucking call me 'sweetheart'," Dom pulled off to say, voice nearly incoherent, wet and bubbling; he coughed and splattered a frothy mess of slime across Marcus' cockhead before lapping it right back up. Dom's beard was absolutely coated with slime, hair rough and bristly as he dragged it over his cheeks, a fresh squirt of red slime gushing up across his face before he opened wide, cheeks bulging around Marcus' spines until he swallowed it down again. "Cole called me 'baby'." Marcus rolled his hips up, his cock sliding neatly down Dom's throat until he was pressed against his pubes. "You don't like pet names?" He wanted to ask "how long have you wanted to suck my cock?", or maybe "why don't you care that I got a gigantic half-locust dick?", but honestly, he was a lot more interested in getting a blowjob. "Ah, fuck," Marcus said, setting back, grinding Dom's face against his crotch as he finally came. He rutted up, fat balls slapping against Dom's neck, grinding between them. His cock twitched, the flare visible through Dom's straining neck muscles, and Marcus was coming, groaning as he let his head fall back, staring up at the dingy tiles as he poured gush after gush of come down Dom's throat, the wet slurp and gurgle as he tried and failed to swallow it all just making the next pulses harder, Dom gagging as he coughed up half his load all over his crotch, thick ribbons of gritty red-orange sludge pouring out around his shaft, drooling from his nose. Marcus ground Dom's face against his crotch, hand firm on the back of his head until he'd stopped coming, just steadily drooling come down into his stomach. Dom pulled back with a grotesque slurp, grimy red ooze pouring out over his bruised lips, running in thick rivers through his beard -- it looked like somebody had punched him right in the mouth, lips bright red, cracked and swollen, purple-blue bruises spreading under his beard. His cockhead got stuck in his throat, spines digging into his flesh, and Dom gagged and wheezed, tears running down his filthy face before Marcus finally kicked him back, the rest of his cock pulling out, a solid _fountain_ of frothy slime spurting in the air, following the heavy arc of his cock as it pulled from Dom's mouth with a final lurch and swung heavily out, slapping against his side before coming to rest against his chest, absolutely pouring with come. Dom was a mess, the front of his uniform completely soaked with slime, a long triangle down his chest, soaking his crotch -- he was hard, cock tenting his slacks as he sat there, shuddering and gasping for breath in loud, rasping heaves, wetly coughing up mouthful after mouthful of reddish sludge and just letting it drool down his chin. "Fucking hell, man," Dom rasped, feeling his throat, ooze burbling up from his beard as he felt across his face. His voice was nearly incoherent, bubbles blowing up from his throat and coming out as cords of pink froth, dense with bubbles. "That's a fucking weapon." Marcus idly milked his cock as he sat forward, kneeling down to lick some of the mess off Dom's cheek, catching a cord and following it to Dom's mouth, kissing him roughly as he slurped the filthy froth from Dom's mouth, gulping it down in mouthfuls. It wasn't hard to unzip him, slacks and uniform briefs completely soaked through, and it took, once, two pumps, thumb working over his cockhead, before Dom let out a bellow like he was getting stabbed and came in Marcus' hand, pump after pump, hips jerking up to gush across his forearm. Dom fell to the side, hitting the partition with more a wet thump than a crash, still catching his breath, one hand just barely reaching out to steady his fall and skidding on the come-soaked tiles. It really was a mess in here, red slime sprayed up the wall and in a thick, frothy puddle spreading out under Dom, smeared into pink streaks whenever he moved. Marcus got to his feet, half-hard cock nearly wrenching him a step forward -- he still wasn't used to the sheer weight of it -- and wiped his cock off of the side of Dom's uniform, gripping the base and pulling up, forming a messy surge of ooze once his fingers finally got all the way up the shaft. "Fuck," he said, and Dom laughed, coughing between rasps. He tucked his cock back into his slacks, its bulge grotesque, and tugged Dom to his feet, boots skidding and sliding on the tiles.

rook/stratton and marcus/rook egglaying [^]

[...] [... dom leaves & stratton comes back and marcus sucks him off outside the stall. stratton has a fucked-up locust dick; he's like "uh nah i think i caught something when i was captured & haven't gotten to treat it yet" and marcus is like "i don't fucking care the docs can deal w/ it, put your cock in my throat" and jace whips out his cock and it's bloated and gigantic and warty and mottled. anyway ben carmine shows up, still all suited up, and is shocked + appalled + stays to jerk off while marcus sucks off stratton. then marcus blows him, jace's dick slapping across his cheek, and carmine is all "oh sergeant, oh god, it's such an honor" etc while jace is all "hey ben, never been with a guy before, wanna go to my quarters after you blow right down marcus' slutty throat" all slowly stripping carmine's gear off him until he's naked save for the mask, and then jace fucks him + invites marcus to fuck him, and isn't really surprised when marcus pulls out his fucked-up alien dick] Stratton shied back. "I guess I... caught something, back before the Locust caught me..." "The docs'll take care of it. You came here to get your cock sucked," Marcus said, one hand over the heavy bulge of Stratton's cock, the other digging under the waist of his pants. "Let me suck your cock." "That was _you_?!" Stratton said, looking back at the jizz-smeared stall. Marcus popped the clasps on his cargo pants and Stratton didn't object, not even when Marcus fell to his knees, mouthing over the muscled plane of his stomach, down to the root of his cock. He could fucking _smell_ it, rank rotten metal, rust, flooding through his nose on the inhale. He was fucking _drooling_ as he jerked Stratton's boxers down. His cock was enormous: skin mottled grey-brown and yellow, leathery-rough; covered in lumpy clusters of warts; half-hard and skewing down the leg of his pants, almost to the knee. The heavy mottling, thick Locust-hide, spread up his shaft, splashing in a patch across the inner thigh of his left leg, his pubes bleached grey-yellow and short. His balls hung below, more than fist-sized and covered in fleecy hair, churning and lurching. "It's not--" Stratton said, defensive, but Marcus was already nosing up against it, moaning as he lapped at the base, ripe Locust-scent filling his nose. Stratton was already dripping pre, translucent yellow-grey staining his slacks. Marcus fished it out, its weight dragging against his palm. It pulled free with a wet squelch, a viscous spurt of pre splattering over his knuckles as the bloated, warty head bobbed free, glossy and smeared with pre. He opened wide around the blunt head, the flesh spongy and soft, salt-sour. He took the whole thing in one long, effortless plunge, tongue pulsing along the underside of the shaft, until his mouth was wrapped around the bloated base, upper lip buried in Stratton's pubes, lower lip dragging against the heavy skin of his sac. His throat worked around the pillar of cock, the rough crests of warts scraping along the tight muscle of his throat, bulging around his fat shaft. "Holy fuck," Stratted said, staring down at Marcus gurgling on his cock, but he caught on quick: his hand curled around the back of Marcus' head, guiding Marcus as he started thrusting, plunging his cock back and forth through the clenching tunnel of Marcus' throat. Marcus choked, spit and pre burbling past his lips and smearing across Stratton's crotch, most of it just oozing straight down into his stomach, Stratton's warted shaft sliding into his mouth and down his spasming throat until his nose ground against his pubes. Stratton fucked his face in long, fast strokes, slamming Marcus' face into his crotch until his cheeks hurt with the force of the impact against Stratton's inner thighs. Marcus groaned, moan muffled by the sheer bulk of the cock in his mouth, coming out as a series of gurgling pops, blowing frothy clusters of bubbles from the corners of his mouth. Stratton tugged his head back, letting his cockhead nestle across Marcus' tongue, each spurt of rancid Locust pre sour in his mouth, before digging his fingers through Marcus' hair and ramming the whole length of his cock down his throat. Marcus' head met Stratton's hips with a wet _crack_, a sharp sting burning across his lips, nose buried in Stratton's pubes, thick muscles flexing against his face as Stratton just stirred his cock around, thrusting short and shallow. Fuck, Marcus wanted his load. Wanted a few loads, shot all down his throat and in his mouth and all over his face. He groaned at the thought, his cock lurching painfully in his slacks, and swallowed again, throat muscles gripping Stratton's fat cockhead and milking it for streamers of pre, felt only as a splatter of slime trickling down his throat. He could keep this up for hours, fuck. There was a dim crash or thump or clatter in the background, only hazily making it through Marcus' cock-hungry mind. Stratton tugged back, and Marcus just leaned in against him, lips spread around the thick, lumpy base of his cock, swallowing and swallowing and swallowing, milking out spurts of sludgy pre. There was a mumble, somebody saying something, and then a different voice, but Marcus was too gone to care, really. So what if somebody caught them; he'd suck their dick too. Dimly, the pounding of his own heartbeat faded, Stratton's voice audible and more importantly _coherent_ above that. "--been with a guy, huh?" he was saying, and Marcus looked aside, heavy stripes of pre smearing across his cheek. The other voice was Carmine -- Rook -- who was standing just two feet away, still fully geared-up, every inch of skin covered. He was groping himself, adjusting the tent in his pants, grinding his palm against his bulge like he didn't even realize he was doing it, his eyes -- covered still by the lens of his helmet -- fixed solidly on Marcus. "A hole's a hole, y'know? And Marcus, man, he's a slut. After I nut, you can hop on." "S-sergeant," Carmine said, squeezing down on his cock. He made a salute, the motion trailing off halfway, still just staring at Marcus. Stratton's cock jerked, a heavy pulse of rancid Locust pre splattering over Marcus' craggy cheek. "Rook," Marcus said, voice exactly as ragged as he expected, thick and cracking. "C'mon," Stratton said, pulling Marcus' face back to his cock, sighing slow when Marcus bobbed forward and wrapped his lips around his slimy cockhead. Hands-free, he let Marcus sink all the way down to the base again, face smeared with clotted slime when he pressed up against Stratton's crotch. Stratton leaned forward, one hand low around Carmine's waist as he pulled him closer. His other hand slid up over Carmine's, rolling over his trapped cock, giving him a short little squeeze. "S'cool, we're all guys here, you can watch." They were both staring down at Marcus, watching his face go red as he gagged on Stratton's cock, slime burbling over his lower lip as Stratton's bloated shaft rocked through his mouth, head tearing up his throat. "Fucking hot, right," Stratton said, half-whispered into Carmine's helmet, the sound almost drowned out by the roaring in Marcus' ears, growing again as he choked and spluttered. The _spang_ of Carmine's button fly being undone was loud in his left ear, cutting through the roaring haze, and then Stratton pulled him off again, grinning at the solid frothy mess tethering them together. "Go on, man, give him a little taste," he said, turning Marcus to face Carmine's cock. Carmine was pale, skin almost white-blue, but his cock was a ruddy red, the final few inches and tip deeply flushed, and just wet enough to shine. Fat. Kind of short, only seven inches or so. Carmine'd buzzed his pubes, red-gold hairs stiff and short wrapped around the base, and just the slightest hint of his chunky thighs and stomach on the sides, the rest of him head-to-toe in armor. Marcus slid right down on it, cords of slime pulling across his cheek, _still_ tying him to Stratton even as he sloppily went down on Carmine, his stumpy length sliding no problem into the back of his throat, barely even cutting off his breath. Carmine jerked, his entire body convulsing when Marcus wrapped his tongue around his cockhead on the upstroke. "Oh, Sarge!" he cried, groaning and moaning like it was the first time anyone'd touched his cock, his hands clenching on opening on air, like he was afraid to even touch Marcus. "Yeah, he's got a nice fucking mouth, right?" Stratton said, hands splayed over Carmine's hips, dragging his pants down incrementally. "I was gonna nut down his throat, but if you wanna jump ahead it's cool," he said, and then smoothly right over Carmine's stammered, breathless "Thanks, thanks, oh fuck", he continued "'f you can give me a better place, that is." He rubbed over the top of Carmine's fleshy ass, inching the dragging hem of his pants down, and then brought down a hand with a sharp _crack_. "It's cool, I can open you up, it doesn't even hurt." Carmine shuddered, gasping when Stratton shoved his pants down to mid-thigh, the curve of his ass on display, heavy and solid. His bare thighs were fleshy and soft as Marcus sunk down on his cock, cheeks rasping over his soft skin. He wasn't calloused -- radiation-damaged and leathery -- from active duty, not yet. Behind him, Stratton ran a finger over his puckered hole, and Carmine jerked forward, fucking balls-deep into Marcus' throat with a gasp. Stratton waved a hand through the slimy mess jiggling in the air between him and Marcus, tugging until all the strands snapped or, slug-like, pulled off Marcus' cheek to dangle from his hand. Then his hand vanished behind Carmine again, slick fingers moving against his hole as Stratton slid inside. "Fuck, you're tight." Stratton's fingers churned inside Carmine, working his hole open. "'N you shaved back here too, all stubble. You're gonna open up nice around my dick, look at that." He kept up a low murmur of talk, complements and praise, as he wormed his fingers inside Carmine, the wet slick noises almost as loud as Marcus' constant slurping on his cock. Stratton crooked his fingers up, slamming right Carmine's prostate, and Carmine just groaned and went limp, thighs trembling against Marcus' cheeks. "Yeah, that's your prostate, huh. Never even stuck a finger inside, felt that? Yeah, sweetheart, you get fucked and it's like a g-spot, yeah, just pounding it -- over -- and -- over." He punctuated with his fingers, pinky and thumb splayed along the crack of his ass, three fingertips knuckle deep in his ass, fingertips pressing hard into the fat nut of his prostate, forcing rumbling groans out of Carmine. Carmine looked down, staring at Stratton's bloated Locust cock, already spurting out fresh slime in huge chunky webs over the shell of Marcus' ear, all yellowish and clotted, dripping in messy sheets down his shaft. Like he was reading his mind, Stratton leaned in close, smearing his cock over Marcus' stubbled cheek and then pressing the blunt, heavy head into the soft flesh of Carmine's hip. "It's cool, it'll fit. It'll just slide in there, open you all up inside." Carmine's legs trembled again as Stratton worked his fingers back and forth, heavy wet slurps sounding as he practically shoved his hand right up Carmine's ass, knuckles jamming hard against his prostate. "Yeah," he said, the inside of his facemask all fogged up, sweat darkening the pits of his uniform. He sagged forward, ass grinding against Stratton's fingers. "Yeah, please, fuck me." "Yeah, man," Stratton groaned, lips dragging over the side of his helmet as he slid to the side, his cock skewing along Carmine's hip, digging into the doughy flesh of his ass, his cheeks closing around the chunky, warted shaft. "Look how easy it goes," he murmured into Carmine's neck, hand palming over his cock, guiding it into place until it knocked against Carmine's asshole, Stratton's fingers still spreading him open. Stratton shifted forward, the swell of his cockhead digging into Carmine's ring, replacing his fingers, and Carmine's breath caught in a wet rattle, clacking in his throat as he jerked away from it, grinding Marcus' face into his sweaty crotch, balls hitting Marcus' chin with a flat smack. Stratton sunk in, fingers sliding around Carmine's ring as he opened up for his blunt cockhead, warts dragging glossy and uneven over his clenching, spasming asshole. His cockhead popped in with a _slurp_, some small tension leaving Carmine's spine, and he hunched forward, pushing his ass out to Stratton. Stratton's fingers curled over Carmine's heavy hips, dark lines in Marcus' peripheral vision, digging into the fat of his stomach just under his chestplate. Carmine was mumbling under his breath, cursing, gasping, as Stratton slowly rocked inside him, gliding back and forth, working a fraction more of his shaft into him each time. His dick was burbling pre, gummy yellow-green smears bulging out around his cock each time he pushed back into Carmine's ass, crackling and slopping and eventually dripping down the crack of his ass, smearing along the backs of his balls and down his inner thighs, in glistening trails. "C'mon babe, lemme see your skin," Stratton said into Carmine's neck, and his hands dug deeper into Carmine's sides, sliding up under his chestplate, and then there was a _clack_ as he undid the latching on the sides, again and again, sliding higher and higher each time. Carmine bent up, arching into Stratton's touch as his armor came off, until his back was bent like a taut bow, plating hanging by his neck, the high shelf of his ass shoved out for Stratton, obscene; Marcus' head buried under his muscled gut, helmeted head thrown back, goggles fogged opaque, breath slits dripping from his humid breath. Stratton dug into Carmine's pits, unlatching the final clasps, and then dragged the entire thing over Carmine's head, tossing it aside with a crash that shattered the bathroom tiles, echoing harshly through the bathroom. Marcus was buried under his gut, the flesh of his stomach slapping against his forehead as Carmine groaned and writhed on Stratton's cock. Carmine was buzzed short all the way up, stubbly and rough over his stomach where he was grinding against Marcus' forehead, in bristling trails all over his barrel-keg chest, fanning thicker across his heavy pecs, sweaty and darker down his sides, sweating like a stuck pig. Stratton slid all the way in with a hissed groan, until his hips met Carmine's cheeks with a wet smack, his monstrously bloated Locust balls digging into the underside of Carmine's cheeks, filling up all the space between them. He dragged Carmine against him, his chest pressed tight against Carmine's bare back, hands spread over Carmine's gut. "Yeah," he hissed against Carmine's neck, against the rim of his helmet. "Look at you taking it all, you're a natural." He thrust into him, cock sloshing and slapping as he buried himself repeatedly, spraying down Carmine's guts with his mutated precome. Carmine shuddered with his entire body, practically trembling, and his cock just shot off, a heavy solid blast straight down Marcus' throat, and then again, and again. Stratton groaned, working the base of his cock back and forth through Carmine's clenching asshole, his guts rippling and squeezing the rest of his cock. "You're so tight and easy, fuck, you got me coming soon." Stratton said, voice rumbling, catching with each slap of his hips. "Want me to bust my nut right up inside you, fucking load you up? Less mess, brother, though I could shoot all up your back, bend you down and spray all over your pretty little face." He barely had time for Carmine's guttural "Yeah, yeah, come on," before he was talking over it, voice cracking into a Locust growl, teeth bared. "Fuck!" He slammed in, hips smashing into Carmine's ass as he unloaded, great slobbery bursts of jizz sloshing audibly inside Carmine's ass, drowned out instantly by the crackle as it drooled past his clenching ring, splattering in thick webs across his ass, dripping down his thighs in chunky globs, spilling all over the inner surface of his pants, bunched up at his ankles. Stratton just groaned, hips pumping, each thrust punctuated by the slap of skin of skin, then a soggy gush of scummy Locust jizz practically squirting from Carmine's overstuffed ass, spraying back over Stratton's thighs and making a gooey, stringy mess between their joined bodies, slime zig-zagging down their legs. Stratton finally just hilted in Carmine with a wet splat, teeth digging into Carmine's shoulder like he was a fucking animal, and Marcus felt the sense-memory of the Locust driving into his aching ass, sawtooth teeth tearing bloody scars across his neck as they filled him with their alien jizz. Come constantly drizzled from Carmine's stuffed hole, forming messy ropes just jiggling in the air between his spread legs. Eventually Stratton finished, pulling back, cock emerging coated and dripping slime, more chunky yellow-green slop oozing down Carmine's thighs. "Like that, huh?" he said, slapping Carmine's ass, sending up a gummy wave of Locust jizz from the impact. His fingers slid in circles around his flushed hole, gaping open, his inner flesh a vivid red, muted by the layers of slime. "Hole's hungry," he said, fingers digging into the muscle, Carmine shuddering and groaning as his fingers dug out huge globs of jizz, chunky and thick. "Bet you're already missing my cock, huh sweetheart?" [...] Marcus sitting on his hands and knees, cheek pressed against Carmine's chunky thigh, mouth open and slowly lapping at his shaft, Carmine's cock half-hard and still heavy, thick and swollen. Marcus twisted, aware for the first time of his own cock -- he was painfully hard, as hard as he could get in his slacks, fabric all soaked through with syrupy reddish slime. And, hey, here was a great place to try it out: Stratton's fingers sunk into Carmine's ass, fucking out sloppy globs of grubby Locust jizz, Stratton pressing kisses across Carmine's shoulder and neck, all the way up to the ridge of the helmet he still had on. Carmine looked -- debauched, stripped from neck to thigh but otherwise fully armed up, helmet and boots still on despite the vast stretch of sweaty, flushed skin on display, all smeared with spit and come. Marcus sat back. "Lemme fuck him." His voice was even rougher than usual, clotted, and he coughed up a mass of cum and phlegm that had stuck in his throat before swallowing it back down again. Stratton looked over, grinning, two fingers still shoved knuckle-deep in Carmine's hole. "Yeah? You don't just suck cock, huh?" He peeled his fingers out, wrapping his hand around his huge, half-hard cock, slapping its slimy weight against Carmine's fat ass cheek. "But after this, I mean -- fuck, he's not gonna be very tight." Marcus smirked, rising up, and Stratton's eyes bugged out when he saw the bulge running down Marcus' pants, stretching the material more than skintight with its girth. The ridges and spurs all along his cock were squished flat, just vague bumps against the soaked fabric. "Holy fuck," Stratton said, reaching out, and Marcus obligingly stepped forward, sandwiching Carmine between them, letting Stratton cup and tug at the monstrous weight of his cock. "Guess I'm not the only one the Locust messed with, huh?" Stratton murmured, fingers sliding up to the come-sodden zipper, carefully peeling it down and just kind of groaning as Marcus' cock shifted and bulged out between the gap, cockhead still just about around Marcus' knee. Stratton reached in and fished Marcus' cock out, Marcus wincing against the pain as his spines dragged backwards against the rough fabric. "You're gonna bust him open with that thing, shit." Marcus' cock pulled free with a flood of gummy fluid, thick half-coagulated precome coating the head in chunks, pulling out into fat, corded blobs as he finally got the final crest of spines around his cockhead free. The fishhook tentacles his cockhead had split into weaved through the air, practically prehensile. They were springy, not that flexible, jutting out like his mammoth cock split into seven separate dicks near the tip. His cockslit was split open into a hungry mouth, drooling thick red slime. Marcus tried to flex it closed, clenching muscles, but his cock just twitched and spat, slime burbling up from the center to spatter in chunks on the floor. Even with his hands, getting them coated in runny red slime, it didn't work; the spines flared out wider than he could reach even with both hands. Stratton stroked his dick, hand sliding up the shaft to catch under the huge spines of his cockhead, and he practically tugged Marcus forward by his cock, moving so Marcus could be the one pressed against Carmine's back. Stratton stayed close, looking down between them, watching as he guided the exploded, squirming mass of Marcus' cockhead against Carmine's fat ass cheeks, dragging through the smeared jizz dripping down his cheeks. Carmine groaned, heavy blobs of green-yellow Locust come drooling out as his swollen ring clenched shut. There was a dizzy _pressure_, heat racing up his cock, and Marcus looked down to see his fishhook spines pull together, edges slotting together to form his cockhead: titanically huge, sharply pointed, hooks becoming a ring of jagged spines ringing the edge. His cockslit still gaped open, a jagged-edged star drooling red slime. Marcus jerked forward, like his cock was leading, and the edge of his cockhead dragged up over Carmine's hip, shaft just barely nestling between his spread cheeks, head smeared over his lower back. A _pulse_ ran through Marcus' body, like his insides were liquefying, and his cock lanced out a shot of slimy red precome, hard enough it splattered all the way up Carmine's back, a thick gummy line from his ass to his helmet. Stratton smeared his fingers all through the muck, almost regretfully letting go of Marcus' cock so he could press his slime-coated fingers to his mouth, gingerly tasting. "Fuck, Sarge, put it in me!" Carmine was huffing, grinding his ass back against Marcus' cock, the heavy flesh of his cheeks wetly slopping up and down, rubbing against the huge swollen knobs down his shaft, tugging them back and forth. Marcus drew back -- he had to step back to get enough space -- and dragged his cock down. His huge spines flared around the slope of Carmine's ass before he slotted into into place, dripping red slime in dots over his cheeks before his pointed cockhead pressed against Carmine's abused pucker. Even after taking Stratton, Carmine's swollen and gaping hole wasn't anywhere near wide enough to take what Marcus was packing. The very tip of his cock nudged over the soft, swollen folds of Carmine's asshole, digging in minutely. Carmine groaned, back bowing, ass clenching, and the slippery pang as he clamped down around Marcus' cock shot straight up in, hitting something buried low in his hips. Marcus groaned, eyes rolling back as his cock flooded out, _something_ lancing up his cock. His cock _gulped_, strange new muscles working to pump the thick, gummy fluid higher and higher, until it burst in endless strings just inside Carmine's ass, audibly smacking and sloshing. Carmine made a noise like he'd been punched, a strangled grunt, and Marcus just _shoved_ inside, cockhead peeling open, spines pressing against his shaft bowing the tip apart into individual hooks, scraping through the sloshing, slick mess he was making inside Carmine. The green-yellow Locust jizz was thinning, displaced by Marcus' thicker... fluid, a fluorescent red-orange, streaked with lines of a golden yellow; pure Imulsion. Carmine's breath was rasping through the slits of his helmet, ragged and uneven, punctuated with groaning yelps each time Marcus jerked forward, some infinitesimally small fraction of his cock scraping through his distending asshole. Carmine's asshole gaped wider and wider, slime oozing out all around the sloppy rim, smearing out between the cracks of Marcus' spines. Carmine was almost painfully tight, asshole -- and _ass_ -- clenching and seizing, muscle rippling in thick waves around the very crest of his cockhead. The fuck-knew-what slime Marcus was spraying all across his insides helped, slippery and gummy and almost hot enough to scald, but Carmine was _tight_. The pucker of his asshole bowed inward, stuck around the widest part of Marcus' cockhead, all his spines flush with his shaft, forming a huge uneven ball of flesh, banging again and again against Carmine's broken asshole. Marcus growled, some inhuman grating roar rumbling up his throat, and he jerked back and forth, carrying Carmine with him, cock stuck on the ring of his asshole, vivid slime flinging out in all directions, slopping in globs to the wall and down to the ground, steaming gently. Marcus bore down, hands digging so hard into Carmine's hips it'd bruise, and jerked forward. Carmine wailed, broken sounds coming from his mouth, and with a wet slobbery _slurp_ his spines crested inside, the handspans-length buried between his cheeks slamming straight into Carmine's ass in a single wet motion. Carmine let out a ragged sob, ass clenching and then opening, Marcus' spines sunk into him to the tip, dragging the broken muscle wide open, red slime just pouring out of him, sluicing in unbroken lines down the rest of Marcus' cock. Marcus pulled Carmine up, lifting his upper body until he was on his feet, leaning back against Marcus' chest. Over his shoulder, the swell of his stomach was stretched and swollen, Marcus' cockhead inside him forming an uneven bulge. Below that, Carmine's cock was half-hard and dripping. Marcus settled him, taking almost all his weight, and slid his hands down his sides, over the purpling handprints he'd just added, to the curve of Carmine's cock. "Yeah, you did good," Marcus said as he jerked Carmine to full hardness, voice rough and grating. His cockhead was buried all the way in Carmine's ass. His spikes fluttered slowly, scraping the walls of his ass and pinching the bloated flesh of his broken-open asshole. His cock was still lurching, muscles spasming all across Marcus' shaft and up his stomach as he pumped more slime into Carmine, half of it just pouring out in sloshing waves, making a mess of the tiles below. Carmine _whined_, the pale skin all across his chest and up his neck flushed a deep, ruddy red, and he unevenly thrust into Marcus' hand, cock driving through the red slime coating Marcus' fist. "Is that all of it?" Carmine said, voice cracking in the middle. Marcus laughed, his low chuckle gusting breath over Carmine's bare shoulder. "That's just the head," he said, and punctuated with a slight little thrust, cock slamming just a fraction of an inch deeper. Carmine's whole body shuddered, and his cock drooled a wet smear of precome across Marcus' hand. "There's miles more." Carmine's cock erupted, spraying his come in wet gushes over the curve of his stomach. He groaned, sinking back minutely against Marcus' cock, and his swollen asshole just rolled down the shaft, taking in another tiny fraction. "Sarge, c'mon, put it in me," he groaned, head lolling back, hips jerking. "I can take it." "I don't know if--" Stratton started, speaking up from where he'd been watching, stroking his cock. Marcus cut him off. "He can take it." He stared down at Carmine's swollen stomach, the flesh stretched around his hips, and rutted forward, watching the swell grow and then recede. Carmine's insides were wrapped tight around his cock, clenching and fluttering, stretched tight around the fist-sized bulge of his cockhead and then the twice-as-large fan of spines radiating out below it. Marcus bore down, pressing forward until the tip of his cockhead crashed against the entrance to Carmine's guts. It'd be stretched open by Stratton's cock, but nowhere near enough. Then he pulled back, dragging his shaft from Carmine's ass. His spines fanned out; they caught in Carmine's swollen, doughy flesh and dragged furrows down his insides. He couldn't pull out all the way; even the fat ball of the underside of his cockhead pulled out, but his spines flared on the inside of Carmine's asshole, digging further and further into his flesh. Marcus kept pulling until Carmine started squirming and gasping in his arms, the flesh of his ass bowing out in a huge rubbery swell, like Marcus would have to rip his asshole inside-out before he could pull out all the way. "You think you can get me off? 'Cause we're gonna be stuck together until then, looks like." Marcus wanted to bite down on Carmine's ears, wanted to see his dazed eyes, pupils blown, his entire face flushed and sweaty. He bet he was crying, if the ragged wet noises coming from his helmet were anything to go by. He wanted to see it, except the clench of his ass was just getting hotter and hotter, frissions of heat and chill racing up his shaft, coaxing more immense gushes of slime. Steam was billowing up between them, slime steaming as it slopped from Carmine's ass, coagulating into immense gummy piles, glued tight to the fuzz across Carmine's cheeks. Marcus bit back a roar when he thrust back inside, spines pulling forward again, and the clench as Carmine's guts reworked themselves against his cock almost made him come. Come or whatever-the-fuck it was his cock did now; he didn't have much experience with that. Marcus shoved in hard, Carmine's stomach rippling as he slammed his cockhead against the stretched opening of his guts. That was tighter than his asshole, but it stretched easier, bowing open with sick, rubbery cracks that resonated up through his stomach, mixing with the audible gurgling of more slime pouring into him. Carmine's asshole was just _gaping_, red flesh practically oozing from his ass, unfurling around the solid mass of Marcus' cock. The knobbly swells down his shaft slotted right in, digging into the doughy flesh and pushing deeper, popping in a series of wet jerks into the abused flesh of Carmine's ass. Carmine just groaned, gibbering and grunting as Marcus plowed deeper. His stomach was bloated, the keg-like span of his stomach and chest drawn tight, flesh bulging up in an uneven swell, loose skin drawn taut at his sides. Over his hips he was seaming open, pulling wider, his stretch marks like thin zebra stripes, soft and red. Marcus' cockhead sunk into his guts, the wet splatter of his slime abruptly gurgling louder, plugged inside him by the sheer girth of his cockhead, even as more kept draining from his overfilled ass, slopping down Marcus' shaft, practically lathering it in chunky layers. He shifted Carmine's weight, bringing his hips closer, and let gravity just pull him down, impaling him inch after inch on his length. Carmine was letting out soft whimpers, grinding back against Marcus, even as the bulge crept higher across his chest, lurching just below his ribs, the flare of Marcus' cock almost visible. He paused for a second, flaring his cock, and watched the bulge spread, spines digging into the walls of Carmine's guts, and then collapse back against his shaft, dragging coils of Carmine's intestines with him. "Almost there," he hissed into Carmine's ear, and it was the truth -- only the final few inches of his cock were left. It was the thickest part, half the size of his thighs, but after taking his cockhead, Carmine's ass slowly unfurling down his shaft, Marcus didn't think _that_ would be the problem. Carmine groaned, cock pulsing weakly, still soft but oozing fresh come. He was saying words, just an incoherent repetition of Sarge, Please, More, slurred and dazed like he was drunk. Marcus dragged him down. His cock slammed against the twist of his guts, intestines looping back down, and he just growled and forced Carmine down. His guts _shifted_, smearing out of place like jelly, and Marcus could feel Carmine's weight shift as the mass of red slime inside him tipped over and poured down the other side, flooding some further passage of his guts. His guts slid like snakes, shifting loosely around Marcus' cock, and then Carmine just... sunk lower, eyes rolling back as his cock erupted again, dripping wet cords of jizz. Carmine's ass brushed against the rough skin of Marcus' stomach, and he grabbed his hips and _jerked_ him down, slamming the final fat inch of his cock into Carmine, his gaping asshole finally snug around the monstrous girth of Marcus' shaft, meaty ass flattened against the sharp planes of Marcus' crotch, grinding Carmine's fuzzy stubble over the leathery hide of his hips. "Told you he'd take it," Marcus said to Stratton with a sneer. The other man looked shell-shocked, just staring at them, Carmine impaled all the way to the base, stomach bloated like he was pregnant -- or, Marcus thought to himself, like he was stuffed full of Locust eggs -- feet not even touching the ground, seated right on Marcus' cock. His own cock was twitching, soft but hanging low, dripping come in constant pulses, and between his trembling spread legs a constant ooze of red slime poured out of him, smearing down his thighs and over the impossible swell of Marcus' bloated balls. Stratton was fully hard, cock standing straight out, dragged down by its own weight, leaking grey-yellow pre all over, just gushing down onto the floor, smearing into the absolute mess below him. He was touching himself, hands idly dragging up and down his cock, but he was just staring, eyes wide, as Carmine groaned and writhed, uselessly squirming around Marcus' cock. "C'mere," he said. It wasn't like Marcus could fuck him; he tried pulling back and forth and just dragged Carmine's guts further out of place; when he hilted again he slammed right into Carmine's diaphragm, knocking the breath from his lungs in a startled wheeze. Stratton took a dazed step forward, reaching for Carmine's chest, and his cock slung to the side, bouncing back and forth with each footstep, slinging slashes of precome off to the side. His cock touched Carmine first, smearing up his stubbly thigh, and then his hands spread right over the bulge of Marcus' cockhead, high up his chest. They both groaned, and under Stratton's fingertips Marcus' cock lurched, spines fanning, and sprayed a gurgling burst of pre deep inside Carmine, sloshing and slapping against the stretched walls of his intestines. "Holy shit," Stratton said, hands smearing and clenching over Carmine's stomach the same way he'd been touching himself; dazed, automatic, just staring down at the slow, heavy ripple of Carmine's stretched flesh, gut drawn taut like a drum. "Keep it up," Marcus said, leaning down to drag his cracked lips over Carmine's shoulder, his skin salty with sweat. He tongued over the teeth marks Stratton had left, the imprint wide and pointy, skin purpling. He bit down, loosely, his own jaw line wider, teeth larger. Carmine groaned weakly, muscles all across his stomach and chest seizing, clenching spasmodically, massaging Marcus' cock in addition to the clenching tightness of his guts. Stratton's hands were dim slabs of pressure, touching him through the thick layers of Carmine's flesh. Thinner near the tip, just skin and muscle stretched right over his cockhead, jarring every now and again against Carmine's ribs. It was the slowest sex Marcus'd ever had. If he thrust much further he'd probably spear Carmine's _heart_, so he just rocked back and forth, cock lurching through his guts, letting Carmine's shuddering movements and Stratton's touch get him off. He felt his orgasm swim up, heat coiling in his stomach, buzzing against the thick, loose furl of Carmine's asshole, and then higher, into the frenzying heat of his guts, coaxing and hungry. _He_ whined, jaw hanging open as his throat rumbled, some inhuman roar pouring out of him and only getting louder as they kept it up, Stratton circling the dimpled circle of his cockhead, snapping open and shut fast enough to ripple all over Carmine's skin. Muscles he didn't even know he had -- hell, muscles he probably _didn't_ have until recently -- seized up across his stomach, structures inside him _shifting_, and a half-second before it happened he knew exactly what was happening. He came with a roar, some feral Locust war-cry echoing through the room, and then he _erupted_, some new slime pumping up his cock in heavy clenches. It sprayed hard into Carmine's guts, enough to dimple his skin outwards again, sloshing and slopping lewdly inside him. And then the flow was blocked off by an egg. One of the eggs Myrrah had pumped into him, or something his body'd made, who knew, but it was an immense, jelly-like orb, distended into a wide oval as it sprayed up his shaft. Marcus staggered, falling back against the stalls, and they shrieked and almost collapsed under his weight. It was like lightning shooting straight through his cock, jolts of pleasure zipping back and forth, coiling over structures and muscles, coaxing each little muscle to pulse hard, shoving the egg higher and higher, until it finally crowned, his cockhead spread into fishhook tendrils again, the egg _popping_ into Carmine's guts as a single huge swell, bulging to the surface and then sinking down into Carmine's guts. And then there was another one, and another, and another, as Marcus just slumped against the bathroom stalls, dazed, cock lurching and spitting enormous egg after egg deep inside Carmine's intestines, each one followed by a gushing, flooding burst of slime. His ass had practically leaked dry, heat drying the gummy slime into a huge solid crust all around his unfurled asshole, gluing him to Marcus' crotch. All the slime was plugged up inside him, stuffed impossibly deep in his guts. His intestines were shifting again, coiled snakes shifting around Marcus' cock, slowly weighted down more and more by Marcus' impossible load. The bulge of his gut evened out, slime and eggs swelling Carmine further and further, until his sides were a mess of red skin, huge stripes across his stomach and chest, slowly weeping clear fluid. Not that Marcus spared it notice, lost in the dizzy, impossible pleasure of dumping his eggs in Carmine's guts, but Stratton came again, rutting and drooling against Carmine's front, his cock drooling sloppy glaze all over Carmine's stomach, pouring down to coat his stinging sides. And then he _came_, cock erupting, spraying chunky Locust jizz all up Carmine's front, coating his helmet in opaque sheets, drooling down inside it through the earslits and mouthpiece to squelch over Carmine's skin, coating his grotesquely-distended stomach in chunky layers of yellow-green slime, pouring down his thighs and squelching inside his greaves. Marcus was just out of it, dazed, sloppily dragging his tongue back and forth over Carmine's salty skin, mind buried under the waves of pleasure that shot through his cock, pulse after pulse. His knees gave out and all three of them sunk to the ground, Carmine splayed out between them, stomach a mess, lurching and jiggling with each new egg. Things faded back in, gradually. His cock was still pumping, just thin slime, and the slow pulse up his cock felt good, but nowhere like the impossible, dizzying pleasure as before. Some inner chamber inside him felt weirdly empty, internal muscles pulling and pulling and getting nothing but slime. His cock wasn't even hard -- still jammed a few feet up Carmine's guts, but not _hard_. He struggled back, thick rinds of dried slime cracking all between their bodies, and his cock dragged its way out of Carmine's ass, barely even diminishing the swell of his stomach. He made a sleepy whine as Marcus pulled out, half unconscious, breath whistling though Stratton's jizz, half-clogging his helmet mouthpiece. Marcus finally pulled out, hooks catching just-barely against Carmine's destroyed ass and dragging it inside out without a single hitch, bloated red flesh inverting effortlessly, hanging out between his cheeks like a thick, meaty flower, slime dripping from the glossy furl at the center. Marcus' cock flopped limp and half-sheathed onto the floor, sinking into the inches-thick pile of slime, red-orange and almost opaque. It hadn't spread far, turning solid before long, but it was piled up all around them, in chunks near their bodies. Stratton was pulling himself up, pants absolutely ruined, saturated in slime, huge jelly-like chunks of it hanging off. He looked dazed, drunk. Marcus figured he probably looked the same way. Carmine barely moved when Marcus pushed his guts back inside his body, asshole closing with just the low slide of flesh against flesh, tacky slime smeared all over his ass. Marcus' hand fit inside him without any effort whatsoever, his broken-wide asshole just slipping open. Marcus got to his feet, only swaying a little. Stratton was standing, almost steady, his cock soft but still bloated thick and fat, tip still drooling greenish come. "Fuck, man," he said, looking down at the mess, Carmine sprawled out in the red slime like he'd been _murdered_. Marcus helped him up, limbs trembling, and Carmine took some trembling steps before almost crashing down. Marcus had to sling his arm over his shoulder, half-carry him around the divide to the shower half of the bathroom. "'S okay," he said, scrubbing over Carmine's shoulder. He bet Carmine was feeling, well, like he was right after getting gangbanged by the Locust. Dizzy and flush with eggs squirming in his guts. He was _bloated_, stomach ribboned with stretch marks, pushed so far out it looked impossible. Guess Marcus'd gotten lucky; he was [six inches taller] than Carmine; heavier too. He'd worn the weight a little better. He hosed them off, Stratton mostly just washing the splattered jizz off his bare chest, soaking his pants until they ran clear. Marcus had to strip Carmine, suited pants and arm coverings first, then finally unlatching his helmet and dragging it off. Now that he thought about it, it was the first time he'd actually seen Carmine's face. Blond buzz-cut, thick-set features, with a heavy brow. Face completely caked with jizz; Stratton's load in slobbery clots all across his skin, soaking over his lips and half-plugging his ears. He came to -- not that he was unconscious, just dazed, like he was sleepwalking -- halfway through the shower, when Marcus shoved him back under the spray, washing the last of the slime from his face. "Fuck, Sarge," he said, and then he shifted his weight, stomach rolling to the side. He looked down: "_Fuck!_" He looked down at Marcus' dick. Soft, it was absolutely gargantuan, but mostly normal-looking, only the tip peeking out from the heavy folds of his foreskin really giving it away. "What the fuck happened to you?" "Something the Locust did," he said, then followed up, heat over his craggy cheeks, "After something like I just did to you." Carmine looked surprise, and, hell, _Stratton_ took note of that. "The Locust fucked you?" Stratton said, voice rising. "Bunch of 'em. Rook, you'll wanna look out for some... changes. Probably. Might wanna ditch your next few physicals. Or head to a doc right now, I guess." Stratton stared at Marcus' cock again. "No shit, man, I'da let you fuck me if it'd give me one'a those." Marcus smirked, reaching down to grip his cock, settle it to the side, watching Stratton's gaze follow it. "Gimmie a few days, we'll see what I can do."

marcus pumps the rest of his eggs into stratton [^]

It only took Stratton a day to come to him. He pounded on the door to Marcus' berth, like he was there on real business. Marcus hadn't done much more than sleep, still feverish -- grubby Locust skin crawling across his thighs, over his ass, and his cock was drooling and spurting in his sleep. He woke to a sheet soaked with glowing red slime, crusted against his body. He answered the door like that, and Stratton's gaze jerked straight down to his cock. Marcus stood aside and Stratton walked in, head twisting to keep staring at Marcus' cock. It thickened under his gaze. The spines at the tip swelled and flexed, his cockslit gaping into a drooling mouth for a moment before they pressed together again, spitting out a line of brilliantly red slime onto the floor. Stratton swallowed, slow. His hands dragged against the front of his pants, pulling them tight against the bulge of his cock. "You really want it, huh?" Marcus said, walking back to his bed, sitting down. Stratton's head turned, following his cock, and his legs wobbled when Marcus sat, like he was a fraction away from sinking to his knees. Marcus' cock writhed between his legs, twisting, the fishhook spines flexing apart and coming back together like it was a snake tasting the air. He spread his legs, and his cock rose between them, curving out and up, the monstrous furl of the head clearing his knees. "Get it." Stratton's knees hit the deck, face level with Marcus' cock. His breath made it twitch, spines fluttering, and it yawned open and spat, a hosing squirt of red slime pumping all the way up Marcus' length and erupting from the gaping tip, splashing across Stratton's face, thick and chunky enough to cling there in solid ropes. Stratton leaned in, jaw slowly going slack, and the next pulse of slime hosed across his lips, drooling into his mouth. He groaned, the first sound he'd made since stepping inside, and sunk onto Marcus' cock. He couldn't open wide enough to even begin to take Marcus' cockhead, but he opened wide, lapping up the fat spines, slurping each pointed fishhook tip into his mouth, lips pressed against the spread cockslit in a messy kiss, swallowing down mouthfuls of red slime. His tongue smeared over the tip, pushing into Marcus' gaping cockslit, and Marcus groaned, throwing his head back, his fingers wrapping around Stratton's scalp. Marcus pulled him closer, the segments of his cock flexing and spreading as Stratton sunk his tongue deeper into Marcus' cock. Marcus' cock clenched and then spread, each fishhook tentacle opening across Stratton's face, dragging over his stubble, squirming up over his cheeks. His jaw sunk into the gaping depths of Marcus' cock, a tentacle smearing up over his nose. The next pulse of red pre splattered across Stratton's face, oozing in lines between the cuts of his tentacles, and Stratton gurgled, bubbles of slime frothing out from the inside of Marcus' cock as his tentacles spread. They smeared up to his hairline, following the lines of his cornrows, slowly inching their way up until they met on the other end, with Stratton's whole head buried inside Marcus' cockhead,

dom/marcus/stratton/rook foursome [^]

[ dom sucks off marcus' gross dick a bunch and at some point marcus is like "woah holy shit" and then smth inside him starts lurching and pumping and he sprays dom's face w/ little cherry-tomato sized eggs (that are like, translucent red jelly inside). and dom is like. woah those are eggs. like _your_ eggs. maybe fisting him up his dick and reaching into his womb, idk ] [ like i don't know how INTENTIONAL i want the marcus impreg stuff to be, but, uh, probably dom and maybe stratton at fuck him / fuck his dick, and then at some point he starts to notice he's HEAVY WITH EGGS again and is like. yo you knocked me up. (at this point cole and baird aren't IN ON IT, and carmine... i mean he's still pregnant w/ the rest of the eggs. maybe there's some scene where marcus and carmine are lying on a big bed making out while some other guys swap back and forth b/t fucking them both. yknow grinding their pregnant bellies together, that kind of thing) alternately he's still in active duty but every time delta squad gets sent on a mission marcus ends up getting fucked by locust. but idk that seems a LITTLE contrived ] "Sarge," Rook whined, rutting his fat, flushed cock against Marcus' hip, sliding along the groove his bloated gut made. Marcus looped his arms around his shoulders and tugged him in, the both of them groaning from the pressure of their pregnant guts pressing against each other. Rook was flushed all over, blotchy red marks across his chest, fading into a ruddy red across his neck and face. His lips were glistening and his eyes were wet, like he'd been crying. Marcus tipped his head up, and his lips parted, letting him whine and whimper unobstructed as he leaned in, pressing their lips together in a kiss. Rook whined, sobbing into the kiss, hips jerking erratically, smearing his leaking dick all over Marcus' side. He reached down and wrapped a hand around it, pumping, and that was all it took -- Rook keened, cock shuddering, and shot off in sharp blasts, hosing a heavy load of come up across Marcus' belly. He gasped against Marcus' lips, eyes screwed shut, his own bloated gut anchoring him down as he squirmed, rutting against Marcus' hand as he milked his load out. If Rook's clutch was anything like his own, though, coming just once was practically nothing. Rook flopped back, panting, his cock jutting straight out, a shine of come spilling down its length. It was only a few seconds before he whined again, a fresh burble of pre spilling down his slick length. He ground his cock against Marcus' hip again, scrabbling at the sheets to get better purchase. Not enough to satisfy him. Not even enough for his dick to get soft. Rook's pregnant gut pressed against his own, sending a wash of heat all through him, the pressure ache just the right amount of painful. Marcus groaned, and Rook leaned in, pressing a kiss to his open mouth, whining when Marcus pushed back, Rook's gut shuddering against his. Stratton's voice pulled him out of it; he hadn't really forgotten that he and Dom were there, just... not what he was paying attention to, with Rook all flushed and needy rutting against him. Stratton was tugging on his dick, a drizzle of yellowed locust pre oozing out from his warted tip. "Man, just fuckin' look at 'em," he said. "Which one you wanna take?" Dom let out a little exhale, like he couldn't believe it. "Don't be an asshole." Stratton just grinned. "What, you wanna flip a coin? I ain't never got to be in Marcus' ass, you know." He leaned in, fingers crawling up Marcus' thigh, digging into the meat of his ass. "He sucks cock real nice; I bet his ass is nice." He wrapped his hands around Marcus' hips and dragged him a few inches back, far enough his cock dug into Marcus' hairy cheeks, leaking pre all over. Stratton's cock hadn't grown that much, not yet, but it'd added another inch or two easy, and thickened up a bit too. Bigger than a Locust dick. It shuddered as Stratton ground against his ass, a ripple working up its length until it spat ribbons of gritty pre all across his cheeks, squelching as Stratton rutted through it, fucking his cock along the crack of Marcus' ass. Stratton leaned in: "I bet you're all slick and loose; won't even have to open you up." He dug in, cockhead pressing against Marcus' pucker, and Marcus spread and practically sucked it in, the warted cockhead slurping in over his rim, the thick bulbs rasping over the sensitive flesh of his hole. They both groaned, Stratton's hands gripping Marcus' ass, Marcus' pulling Rook tight, kissing him again as Stratton shoved the rest of his fat cock in. "You gonna go?" Stratton said, to Dom, jerking his head towards Rook. "Look at him, he's fucking panting for it." Rook was glistening with sweat, streams spilling down his sides and soaking the sheets. He kept whimpering: Stratton fucking into Marcus in slow strokes, the impact pushing Marcus up against him. Rook was leaking hard, thick slime pouring across Marcus' underbelly, smearing in crackling webs. Dom tugged Rook's legs up, leaned in to anchor his knees on the edge of the mattress, dipping Rook toward him. Marcus could feel the touches through Rook: he shuddered and twisted and moaned, as Dom slid his fingers down against his hole and pushed inside. Rook's cock shuddered, spurting again, hard to tell if it was come or just more pre -- but when Dom actually pushed inside Rook definitely came, moaning with his eyes rolling back as he shot another load all over Marcus' already-drenched gut. half on their back: hips twisted up, legs thrown over their shoulders, but with their bloated bellies still pushed together, panting and moaning across each other's flushed faces as Dom and Stratton fucked them. cock a fat column wedged between them, muscle spasms high up in his stomach sending out bursts of slimy red-jelly pre that by the time they got to his actually cock were just trickles, spilling down between the slats of his unfurled cock and smearing all across the both of them. Rook whined, cock pinned under some measure of the bulk of Marcus' cock, hard and spurting as he rutted against it, huffing and whining. leaving Marcus' hole spread and gaping, a sloppy mess of come pouring out of him. "You think he can take both?" Stratton slid his slimy, come-covered cock up alongside Dom's, one hand on Rook's hips, grinning when Rook whimpered and squirmed. "Yeah babe, I think you can. C'mon, just open up for us--" he said, fingers and cockhead pressing up against Dom's shaft, prying against Rook's spasming hole, until he slid in with an eager groan, Rook letting out a sharp cry. "Good boy." Rook shuddered, lurching against Marcus' chest as they both shallowly fucked him, each motion fucking out a sharp, nearly squeaking moan, cock gushing miniature orgasms all across Marcus' cock, practically humping the massive column as Dom and Stratton fucked him. He moaned, louder, something that might've been words, a long drawn-out "Ohhhhh," and his cock erupted across Marcus' front, splashing him with hot, wet spurts, soaking his hair to his skin in wet mats and smearing ooze all over. "Don't worry sweetheart, we haven't forgotten about you." Stratton slid his hand over Marcus' ass, two and then three fingers sliding into his sloppy hole without a hitch. "Y'know he's the one with the biggest cock. Fuck, you shoulda seen it when he shoved it into Rook here; it looked like it was gonna come out his mouth." His fist sunk deeper into Marcus' guts, knuckles knocking against his inner walls, and Marcus groaned, head thrown back. Stratton's fist teased at his guts, prodding against and then pulling back from some inner chamber, not quite willing to just jam his arm deeper. "Too bad we don't got anybody to fuck him like that; that's what he needs right now. Fucking desperate to take a bigger cock." Marcus could hear Dom step forward. "Well," he said, trailing off, and Marcus knew exactly what he was gonna say. "Why not? The thing's big enough. I bet he could fuck himself easy." Stratton whistled, low. "Damn, man. You think? Fuck, that'd be hot." had to lift his legs up, spread them for him, just to fit the nearly thigh-thick mass of his shaft backwards between them. Somebody's hand wrapped around his shaft, just under his cockhead, pinning the loose mass of his cock-tentacles together, and twisted them around in a fat arc, sliding the side of it along his crack, one of his spines rasping against his worn hole. The pulse of heat that throbbed through him _hurt_, flesh prickling, and his cock throbbed back in response, tendrils flushing, thickening and then stiffening in an abrupt lurch, not just a mass of spongy tentacles pressed against his ass but his cock, proper, gigantic and spined. Stratton laughed. "Yeah, babe, you want it bad, huh? Don't you worry, we got you." The hand across his cock tugged more, twisting, and the point of his cockhead pressed into his splayed hole. Marcus groaned -- his cock was _fat_; already he could tell that -- and shifted, thigh stretching up across somebody's chest as he tried to open his ass more. closer and closer, shaft visibly pumping as his body tried to add more slime, while Marcus just lay there groaning, sobbing, four hands across the tight U-curve of his cock, stroking and teasing while his spines tore up his guts, fluttering and fluttering; whatever part of his body that was controlling his cock not entirely sure if he was properly latched. His gut ached, feeling like he was just pumping slime in a cycle, so much spurting out of him and spraying into him that it felt like he had to run dry or burst or both. The orgasm came slow, the way it always did when it was all on somebody else getting him off, waves of pleasure rippling higher and higher, the touches not quite right, but the rasp of his spines in his ass, the feeling of being locked tight in something clenching and slick, brought him closer and closer. Marcus bellowed, cock spasming hard, spines flaring out, and then he was coming in spurts -- pumping thicker slime into his ass, the slats of his cock bowing out, squirts erupting from between them, spraying chunky slime all over Dom and Stratton's hands as they kept stroking him off. Marcus bellowed as they tore his cock out of him. There was an immense spurt of slime, something he heard and felt more than saw: the gush of hot, gummy sludge erupting out of him, and the seconds-long _crack_ of impact as it splattered all across the room. He groaned, hole clenching and spreading, still feeling the rasp of barbs hooked into his flesh, feeling the stinging tracks they'd made on the way out. Ooze burbled up out of him with each flex, squirting out thick cords of slime; somebody was pressed up against him, most of the slime spraying across him, droplets splashing back against his overheated skin. He groaned and tried to twist, roll over, and had four hands help him, pressing all across his thighs and gut, pushing him over onto his side. Marcus lay there, gasping, guts flooded and hollowed at the same time, cock lying across his thigh and still idly drooling slime all down his leg. "How about you help him out," Dom said, nudging Rook forward, and Rook went for it, hands gripping the furl of Marcus' bloated ass, spreading him even further -- always too eager, so eager he gripped and yanked, sending hot shocks of pain up Marcus' spine as his asshole unfurled, guts spilling out over Rook's hands as he pressed his face against Marcus' wrecked asshole, lips pressing against his swollen asshole, a sloppy open-mouthed kiss as he got a mouthful of slime, flooding his mouth and spilling out across his cheeks. Rook moaned, buzzing up through Marcus' bruised flesh with a pang, and pried his cheeks wider, shoving his whole face against his Marcus' prolapsed asshole, gulping and gulping the mess of slime. "Man, look at him go," Stratton said, and there was a pressure, a hand pressing Rook's face harder against his ass. "He really does do whatever you tell him to." Dom snorted. "You blame him? Fuck." His hands -- probably -- trailed across Marcus' ass, smearing through the slime, turning his matted hair into dark streaks, whorled tracks. Then the wet sounds of them kissing; Marcus lolled his head to the side so he could see: Dom leaning in, lips smeared with red slime, Stratton The wet sounds of the three of them making out, lips and tongues and teeth pressing against his hole in ones and twos; the only identifying trait was Dom's beard, all scruffy across his raw skin.

everybody heads down to the underground [^]

[ marcus has some kinda contact w/ the locust that's like "yeah you gotta go birth those eggs out" "also bring the kid & the other guy; they didn't get the same dose of tf-imulsion so they're not changing fast enough, you should get them down here before they burst" so he organizes some faux-mission w/ him and carmine and stratton, all of which are now visibly pregnant out of their clothes (& kinda nauseous when they have to cram into armor for appearances sake) also i guess dom comes too b/c he's like... "yeah lets see these big locust dicks yr so cockthirsty for" ]

dom stays at the stating outpost and gets gangbanged [^]

[ (and then they go through a locust checkpoint or smth and dom gets gangbanged + left there and gangbanged the entire time the rest of them are down in the underground) ] big open room, air hazy with smoke or sweat or just the humidity of a dozen Locust bodies. Like a bar or something. The center of the room was recessed, dropping down in a series of wide, shallow steps, and scattered haphazardly across the room were tables and benches and mounds of cushions, in no real pattern that Dom could see. "You been wanting to get your hands on a locust dick since Marcus first told you," Stratton said, jerking his head over to where the two drones were making out, absolutely-fucking-enormous cocks hanging out. They were bare-chested, alien locust hide on display, with their pants undone to let their cocks spill out, pinned between their bodies. They rutted against each other, one's hands on the other's hips, the other's on his shoulders. Their cocks lurched, wet crackling noises coming from between them, and one of their cocks skewed out, popping from between the cleft of their abs and pecs: cockhead a fist-sized chunk, shiny and squirting pre in little arcs. One of them tipped his head back and groaned -- the other had leaned in a chomped down on the meaty muscle of his neck -- and Dom jerked back in surprise, because that sure as hell wasn't no _human_ groan; it was a guttural bellow, loud as a roar. Stratton looked like he was about to start jerking off just watching, though. He looked back at Dom, all flushed and flustered and half-hard. "You could just go up and ask, I'm sure they'd wanna try out their dicks on a human." Stratton looked back at them, sloppily kissing, one of them bent down at the knee, the other one looking like he was about to climb up on his dick. "Well, maybe not them two specifically. But somebody." They were already getting a certain amount of attention: drones looking their way, leering, groping at their dicks or just outright stroking them. The heat in the room made Dom dizzy, flushed and sweaty, air rank with the scent of Locust arousal. In a daze, Dom wobbled forward, aware he was huffing and panting, not really sure about anything else. He stumbled on the steps down, wider and shallower than he was expecting, and somebody caught his shoulders and kept him from toppling over. Some Locust caught him. The heat burnt into his skin: huge leathery hands pressing against him, leaving aching trails of pressure; thick black talons digging into his muscles. The drone was shirtless, cock a giant mound in his pants, and his chest and sides were speckled with rocky scutes, rasping as the drone slung an arm over his shoulder and helped him shamble his way to a table. Dom gripped the edge like it was the only solid ground in the place, feverishly aware of every rasping touch, singing through his skin. His cock ached, leaking in his briefs, and he woozily stared down, his own bulge tented out overtly, the drone's so huge it looked unreal. It was jammed against his side, burning hot, dimly moist. The thought of reaching out and touching it didn't even occur to him. It was like there was some disconnect between his rational mind and his body: brain gone quiet, or maybe gibbering away a million miles from him, and meanwhile his body was a mess of sensation, heart racing, skin dripping with sweat, nose clogged with Locust musk, fingers gripping the cool stone edge of the table. The drone grinned at him, a cockeyed smile, and shoved him back against the table, sinking to his knees in front of him. The drone's face was inhuman, ash-white and chargoal-grey, craggy eyebrows casting a dark shadow across his deeply-set eyes, lips peeling back to reveal a mess of sharp fangs, before he lolled his tongue out, all purple-black and warted. His claws dug into Dom's stomach, fingers opening his pants, two fingers hooking into the waist of his briefs and yanking them down, letting his cock burst out into the open air: skin dully shiny, cockhead slick with pre. Pressure wrapped around it, and Dom just stared down, dazed, his cock held in a giant Locust hand, leathery skin and waxy warts sliding over his flesh. Another drone settled next to him, leaning against the same table, his thigh bumping against the drone kneeling before them, and with a completely casual tug the drone opened his pants, half-hard cock lolling out. It was... fucking huge; Dom still wasn't prepared for the sheer size of it. The drone reached down, cupping the massive thing in one brutish hand, and clenched and squeezed, none-too-gently kneading it up and down, forcing it to fill out. Dom'd never even seen a naked Locust before. The drones' skin was mottled, grey and patchy, with paler yellow-brown splotches across him, in dappled patterns: on the kneeling drone, the center of his chest; on the one next to him, speckled all across his jaw and neck, spreading across his shoulders. Scattered across the both of them in blotches, too, were big rocky scutes: jutting out in big spikes across their shoulders or forearms, or in leathery patches over their hips, down their sides, between their thighs. Dom's gaze lolled up, head rolling on his neck as he stared across the room, taking in the crowds of drones clustered together. Marcus had-- Stratton had-- He was the only human in the room, maybe. The air was hot, humid, sour with the scent of fucking. Dom thought for a second the drone next to him was interested in sharing the drone beneath them, or was just gonna hump his mammoth cock against Dom's hip while he watched, but the drone reached out with his hand and grabbed Dom's, wrapped around the table lip, and dragged it over to his shaft. "Touch," he said, words rough, and curled his hand, with Dom's hand in it, around his cock. It was... hot. He meant, well, he could see why Marcus got so fixated. Dom swallowed, staring down at his hand, curled only partway around the inhumanly-thick shaft. It was heavy, hard, hot, dimly sweat-damp. The shaft filled out under his fingers as he reached and pulled, tugging it up so that it skewed sideways, slapping against his side before finding the groove where their bodies were pressed together. Dom kept stroking, the shaft burning hot against his skin, shuddering and lurching as it stretched out, swelling even fatter. The drone's cock was rough in his hands, skin almost sandpapery: a mess of leathery patches and thick warts, so even at full mast it was a lumpy mess. But Dom kept stroking, and the drone slid back, cockhead nestled in his palm for a second, shuddering, pumping, as its gaping cockslit spit out some bubbles of pre, a cloudy grey-yellow. Pre spilled over his fingers, and he twisted his hand around, smearing it back over the drone's cock, slathering it down his shaft. Locust pre was _slick_, just the one or two pulses coating the entire lumpy mess in its glistening sheen. Dom's hand slid frictionlessly across the drone's shaft, knocking against lumpy warts, having them slide under his fingers in smooth lumps. The drone groaned, cock oozing more pre, the wet _shluck_ of Dom's strokes getting louder between them. The slime foamed up, soaking into Dom's skin and the drone's shaft, becoming a denser mess, letting his fingers just-barely catch on the drone's knobbled skin, until the drone groaned, cock twitching again, and shot his next gush of pre in a splattering explosion all across Dom's chest, thick streamers spilling down his shaft and cutting through the creamy foam, making his hand glide smoother. The drone's hands touched his sides, and Dom looked up -- away from his almost hypnotized stare at the drone's fat cock -- realizing again that his face was an inch away from the drone's; that the drone had been staring at him the whole time. The drone looped a hand around his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss -- sharp teeth biting at his lips; slimy, warted locust tongue shoving into his mouth, drooling acrid-tasting spit -- and pressing their chests together, pre squelching between them. The drone's cock kept twitching in Dom's hands, spitting out sloppy lines of pre that caught across his stomach and smeared between them, leathery locust hide grinding against his skin and smearing his belly with slime. He'd come at some point. He hadn't -- no, he'd noticed, breath coming faster as he'd sprayed his load all across the face of the drone kneeling in front of him. The other drone lapped at his shaft, sucking on his balls, warted tongue curling back across his own face to catch a glob of Dom's come. It was just that that hadn't seemed as important as smearing reeking pre all across his fingers, slathering it back across the drone's shaft. And now the kneeling drone stood, his cock also hugely erect, a solid, nearly finger-thick line of grimy pre hanging off, stretching out as he stood until it snapped, splashes of heat smacking across Dom's thigh. Two giant cocks, bobbing against his stomach, one pulsing in his hand, drooling pre all across his forearm, the other oozing droplets that rolled over his warted cockhead and then audibly splattered to the ground. The drone pulled back, spit cording out between their lips, and Dom reeled back, woozy, lungs sucking in air, body surging with a fiery heat, the reek of Locust sex hitting him like a blow. The drone's hand pushed down on his shoulder. Not hard. But enough to know what the drone wanted. What they both wanted. Dom stared down, their mammoth cocks slathered in pre: one with thick globs of clotted ooze smeared all over his shaft, drooling down to his misshapen balls, the other, pressed up against the first, slime only just starting to coat it in a shiny layer. Both trembling with the alien heartbeat, veins fluttering, visibly pulsing. Dom sunk down, onto his knees, and his nose filled with the acrid, sour scent of Locust musk: pre rancid-smelling, chemical, the reek of sex so potent it left his sinuses burning with each inhale. The gnarled, warted cockheads were just an inch away, slits flexing, a continual dribble of pre spilling down the drones' shafts, over Dom's slack hand, sharper sputters spurting across his cheeks, catching in his beard. He swallowed, aware of spit pooling in the back of his mouth, vaguely aware he was leaning in closer, slowly, lips parted. The gush of pre came as a surprise, the dribble stopping for a second as the drone flexed his cock, and then a lancing burst sprayed out, splattering all across his face, hot droplets landing in his open mouth, salty and sour. Dom jerked back, sitting back on his ass, hot dribbles of pre spilling across his cheek, down his forehead. He was panting for breath, open-mouthed, slimy pre drooling down his face and dribbling into his mouth. The other drone stroked his cock himself, gnarled cockhead an inch from Dom's face, and then it shot out its own blast of pre, drenching him in reeking slime, Dom breathing fast and hard. There was a laugh, the drone grinning down, and he took a step forward, cock bobbing up and down, slashing pre all across Dom's front before the drone wrapped a clawed hand around the back of his head and tugged him in, cockhead slapping across his face, scraping up his stubbled cheek, leaving behind a slick, slimy layer of pre. Dom twisted up, cockhead bumping against the side of his nose before it slid into place against his lips. The tip was sloppy, Locust pre stringy and thick but also intensely slippery, and pressed against his lips it popped right into his mouth the second his lips parted. The drone above him moaned, cockhead stretching Dom's lips into a fat O, and it shuddered, spitting out a slimy gush of pre all across his tongue: salty and slightly sour. Rancid and chemical-tasting. But not bad. Not all that different from Stratton's dick; they all had that much right. And then more and more, more than the droplets that had splattered in his mouth, more than a single gush, but a continual spurting ooze, like the drone was pissing. Pre flooded over his tongue, staining his teeth and gums with sludgy layers, making him gulp to keep up, drinking down mouthfuls of sour slime, building up frothy scum on the corners of his mouth, or sticking in clumps in his throat. The drone cupped Dom's head, claws digging across his scalp, and pulled him forward. Thick locust dick shoved in past his lips, the fat cockhead ramming against the back of his mouth. Dom gagged, spitting out a mess of pre all across the drone's shaft, but the drone just tugged him forward again, slower but more implacable, rutting his cockhead against the back of his mouth, fighting against the spasming opening to his throat until Dom swallowed around it and the fat cockhead popped into his throat with a lurch. His mouth was slathered with pre, a thick pool burbling under his tongue; the drone's cock glided through the slicked-up mess and shoved through the tight, spasming muscle of his throat, sinking deeper and deeper. Dom groaned, gurgling, the mess of pre spilling over his lips forming glossy spit bubbles. All the while the other drone watched, hand on his cock a steady _shluck-shluck-shluck_, cock twitching and spurting pre, splattering slime across Dom's already-drenched face. The drone ground his cockhead over Dom's cheek, smearing through the layers of slime, and pulled back with slimy cords dragging out between them. He stooped down, cock bobbing with the motion, and grabbed Dom's wrist, lifting it up -- Dom sinking forward, bracing one shoulder against the drone's hip as he let his hand be wrapped around the drone's cock: slurping on one shaft while he erratically stroked the other, both constantly spewing slime, drenching him inside and out. Dom gurgled, staring blearily up at the drones. His throat clenched tight around the lumpy, rasping Locust cock shoved halfway down it, a constant warm flow of slime gushing straight into his stomach; the other cock shuddered in his hand, hot splatters of pre painting thick, sloppy cords of ooze across his already-disheveled face, sweat and pre mixing together in a runny mess that slowly trickled down his neck and chest. The both of the drones were leering down at him, hands on his head and shoulders, coaxing him on as he sloppily, inexpertly serviced their cocks. His cock down his throat sawed back and forth, thrusting, and the hands on his head tugged him down, shoving more of the brutally-thick shaft through his stretched lips. It felt like there was a solid plug of pre in his throat, a thick jellylike mass that lodged in place when the drone pulled back. The warped, wart-covered ridge of his cockhead slid smoothly across Dom's pre-drenched throat, all lumpy and uneven. Dom gurgled, pre drooling from his lips and nose, tears in his eyes as the drones shoved him back down again, bruised lips smearing further down the mammoth shaft, back and forth, as the drone fucked his face. The other drone angled his cock, gushing pre all over the shaft, slathering it up so it went down without a hitch. The drone's hips hit his face with a _smack_, Dom's nose flattened against the drone's crotch, his giant, misshapen balls hitting his chin, cockhead shoved so far down his throat it felt like it was in his chest. They kept him there for a long moment, gurgling and coughing up slime, before pulling out, pulling off, leaving Dom dazed, mouth slack and drooling, face drenched with slime, cords slowly spilling across the line of his chinstrap beard, drooling from his goatee in lines, forming hot splatters down his chest. There were still cords stretched between his lips and the cock, glimmering strings that caught the dim light, hanging taut, tugging at the corner of his mouth, across his bruised lower lip, seeming in no danger of snapping. He gasped for breath, coughing up clots of pre, shaking his head, and only dimly realized his surroundings, beyond the twitching, drooling cock still bouncing an inch from his mouth. A mess of drones had gotten close, most of the room circled around him -- at least a dozen in a circle; and then a second row of who knew how many more. All stripped naked, tugging on their hard cocks. The room reeked of it; he reeked of it. His face was sheened with slime; he'd coughed up enough of it that the crotch of the drone fucking his face was slathered, stringy lines spread all across his stomach, over his hips, cords of phlegm and pre hanging down from his lopsided balls. Dom just knelt there, mouth hanging open, eyes taking in the crowd. Waiting for them to start using him again. The other drone wanted a crack at his mouth, apparently. He tugged Dom's head to the side, lining up his own grotesque, misshapen cockhead, and pulled Dom down: cockhead stretching his lips, gushing for a second across his already-drenched tongue, before the drone dragged his head down, ramming against the back of his mouth, strong enough to make him gag and choke, sputtering around the fat cock. The drone eased up a little, just rutting shallowly, cockhead spitting slime in the back of his throat. Pre built up into a heavy sloshing weight, and Dom swallowed, gulping down a mouthful, thick and clotting in his throat. He wanted into his throat. It wasn't hard: his mouth was all slick and slippery, teeth and gums and tongue all covered in a layer of pre, and this time when the drone pushed deeper Dom gagged again but swallowed, letting the bulbous, warted cockhead pop into his throat. He gurgled, breath cut off, throat spasming against the cock plugging him up, but it shuddered and spat, again and again, flooding his throat with more of his slick pre in sudden hot gushes, letting his cock sink frictionlessly down, the only catch Dom's own spasming throat clenching tight around the fat shaft. It sunk lower and lower, knobbled warts catching on his bruised lips before they slurped in, scraping over his teeth and sinking down his throat. Dom gagged again, throat clenching down hard, and that just made the entire thing throb and swell, warts bulging against his flesh, a squirt of slime erupting up his throat and spraying from his lips, splattering all across the drone's crotch. He hilted just as easily as the first, holding Dom's gagging, drooling head in place, the brutally-fat rod of his cock shuddering and pulsing, warping his throat with its inhuman girth. The drone thrust a few times, only dragging an inch of his cock out, just ramming Dom's face down on his crotch a few times before he let him up, letting Dom spill off his cock with a sloppy heave, coughing up thick, sour strings of rancid precome all across his crotch. Dom gasped for breath, breathing wet and sloppy with ooze constantly drooling over his lips. There were more drones in front of him now, the crowd packed in tight, and they jostled for space, cockheads pressing against the side of his face, cockheads scraping up and down through his spiky stubble. On a human that'd be just painful, but the drones had big leathery cockheads, even their raw, unsheathed flesh thicker and heavier, and they seemed to love it -- grunting and groaning as they ground their cocks against his face, splattering him with bubbles and strings of translucent grey-yellow pre, soaking his face in a slick, slippery layer of ooze. Dom groaned, one of them taking advantage to shove his cockhead just past his lips, flooding his mouth with pulses of rancid ooze. Slime burbled out around his shaft, blowing filmy bubbles of spit, and the drone who'd managed it grinned down at him and pulled him back down, punching his cock down his throat in a single effortless glide, until Dom's nose ground against his crotch, the bloated, pillowy sac of his balls pressed against his chin. The drone pulled back and thrust in, fucking Dom's face in long strokes -- a wash of spit and pre spraying from Dom's mouth when his cockhead sunk into his throat, and again when he pulled back out, slick and slimy when the other drones caught the mess with their cocks and used them to smear it all back across his face in clotted layers. The drone fucked his face, a sharper edge to his motions: no longer just playing, toying with him. The drone wanted to get off. Dom's throat was an open tunnel, just an orifice for him to use, while Dom gagged and choked and heaved, vomiting up frothy cords of pre all across his dripping, slathered shaft. The drone roared, bellowing, and yanked his cock out of Dom's mouth just in time, stroking up and down its dripping length before his fingers squeezed down just under his cockhead. His cockslit gaped, wide open, and he erupted with a chunky rope of come, opaque grey, gushing his load all across Dom's sloppy face. Dom closed his eyes, eyelashes already webbed with pre, come spurting all across his forehead and eyebrows, across one cheek, over his bruised lips, into his mouth. Come smeared over the layers of pre and poured down his face, catching in thicker lines across his less-slimy chest, only sluggishly dripping to the ground. Dom just knelt there, shuddering, gasping, mouth flooded with a sour slurry of pre and come, gulping erratically. Maybe the drone stopped coming, or maybe he was just shoved out of the way early, his cock displaced with a dozen more. The air was overheated, burning in Dom's lungs, and the stench of locust pre suffused his senses, acrid and spicy and heavy. He groaned, open-mouthed, panting, and that was too much for one of the drones to resist: a hand caught the back of his head and tugged him down, shoving another slimy cock into his mouth, thrusting eagerly. Gnarled locust cockheads mashed against his face, leaving smeared trails, and the one in his mouth shallowly rutted, fat flange of his cockhead catching on Dom's lips, gushing pre all across his tongue. One of the crowd one of them grabbed his left hand -- digging under his fingers and practically prying his grip off from around the drone's giant thighs -- and then neatly slid his cock into Dom's curled fingers, thrusting away instantly. Dom looked to the side, cockhead bulging out his cheek: just watching for a moment the enormous cockhead shove through his fingers before pulling back again. The drone's big leathery foreskin was still wrapped halfway up his cockhead, sliding down minutely when he thrust through Dom's fist, and everything was too slick for him to even get a grip and tug it down. The motion squelched, slurping and cracking, the pre thickening into a grimy off-white lather, thinned by sweat and spit and pre long before Dom's fingers started to catch. Another drone got the same idea, wrapping Dom's other hand around his cock, and then he was mostly held up by the sheer press of bodies around him, giant treetrunk thighs pinning him in, pre raining down across his entire body in hot, slimy spatters. Cocks came, showering him in thicker, grittier slime -- the one fucking his mouth shuddering and then unloading, flooding his mouth with gritty, clotted ooze. The cock pulled out to finish across his face, each spurt still making him reflexively jerk back, just pressing the back of his head against some other drone's crotch. Dom swallowed, open-mouthed, a mess of come pouring out of his open mouth in a tarry grey wave and washing down his face. Two drones tried for his newly-vacated mouth at the same time, and their cockheads mashed against his lips, slickly sliding up and down, gaping cockslits gushing pre across his upper lip, over his cheeks, down his chin. Dom gasped, spit bubbles frothing up, tongue slurping back and forth across the gnarled, warted cockheads, pressing against their massive, gaping cockslits. A hand wrapped around the two shafts, pinning them together, and they both tried to shove in through his lips at the same time. Dom moaned, opening wide, lips bruised and aching from the stretch as they pushed minutely further in. They thrust out of sync, vying to fit in his overstretched mouth, fingers reaching down to hook over his swollen lips and stretch them wider. His mouth felt warped, wrecked, lips drawn absurdly out from his face, wrapped around two grotesque cockheads. He sagged forward, wobbling, cocks shoving deeper -- hands unable to brace himself, wrapped around two more cocks, his fingers slurping and squelching as he stroked their lengths. Drones surrounded him from every direction, a solid wall of alien flesh, and cocks ground all over his skin: pressed against his cheeks, on the side of his neck, behind his ears, across the back of his head. Over his shoulders, into the crook of his elbows and armpits, over his sides. All rutting, spurting, drooling across his skin, coating him in a thick, heavy layer of pre, hot and sticky. Slick flesh rubbed against him, hardly even feeling like flesh anymore, just pressure and weight pushing down and sliding. Dom gurgled, cords of slime drooling over his lower lip, bubbling out between the two cockheads as the drones tried to push their cocks more tightly together, trying to fit both in his mouth, down his throat. His eyes were plastered shut, layers of pre baked down to a tarry sludge; all he could sense was the heat and the pressure and the constant wet _shluck_ noises of dozens of locusts jerking off, sloppy cocks being stroked, the thick, heavy patter of pre and come gushing across his already-drenched skin, the rancid, reeking taste of locust pre flooding his mouth. Lumpy locust shafts thrusting through his stretched lips, each knobbled wart rasping over his lips, making them bruise up more. He was utterly drenched: coated head to toe in slimy pre, with thick streamers sluggishly drooling down through the mess, spilling down his chest and back, winding over his pecs. His face was probably opaque with it, hair sodden and heavy, plastered to his skull, stubbled cheeks catching more of the mess, goatee a drenched mess constantly drooling trapped come down his chest in long strings. The huge cords trailing from his forearms and chin sometimes snapped, sending thick ribbons splattering all across his stomach and thighs, sometimes snapping with a jolt against his own untouched cock, making him groan and squirm. Cocks ground through the mess, adding fresh gushes, hands squelching as they smeared the ooze all over him, wrapping over his shoulders or neck or back to smear built-up ooze in a thick, even layer all over his body. Dom groaned, sloppy ooze bubbling from his mouth, coughing from the sheer amount of pre splattering into the back of his mouth, dripping down his throat in a thick stream. hoisting him up, pushing him to the side -- his hip banged against the side of the table, the one he'd been standing against earlier. It'd gotten moved, or he'd gotten turned around, and he'd hardly even realized what it was before a whole mass of drones surged toward him, lifting him up by the thighs and dropping him on his ass on the tabletop, pushing him back so he was lying there on his back, totally exposed. Drones crowded in, rubbing their cocks across his chest and stomach and thighs, smearing around globs of ooze until his entire body was covered in a slimy film. Fingers slid across the back of his thigh, over his thick ass cheeks, The hand pulled from his ass, and then hands wrapped around his ankles, lifting his legs up, and a drone stepped in between his legs, cock rutting against his cheeks, adding his own pre to the slop coating Dom's ass. Another drone stepped in front of him -- more like a cock appeared in front of his face, giant and slimy and drooling pre in a constant drizzle all across his nose. More cocks pressed against his sides -- hands on his legs, bending his knees, three or four cocks rubbing against the soles of his feet even, pushing against his toes. The cock between his legs rubbed up and down, slurping between his cheeks, digging into his worked-open asshole, and Dom gasped and groaned. A hand wrapped around the other cock, not even a hand attached to the same drone, and stroked it a few times, milking syrupy lines of pre directly into Dom's open mouth, some spilling over his lips, across his nose, down his chin. surface beneath him was slick, the smooth rock smeared with pre where Dom kept wriggling, and each thrust shoved him forward, shoulders butting against the thighs of the drone in front of him. Hands braced against his shoulders, but the drone in front of him apparently figured shoving his cock down Dom's throat was a better solution, locking his head in place between his giant thighs, balls slapping down and then smearing across his face. a roar and a sloppy wet impact across his chest, one of the drones finally losing it and spraying his load. The drone came for what felt like minutes, rope after rope of come splattering across Dom's skin, up and down from his neck to his thighs, finally ending with him rubbing his broad cockhead through the mess, crunching the weird grit inside the clotted chunks, smearing it into a thick, slimy paste. slathered head to toe in locust come, huge clots and piles all over his body, the loads of dozens of drones all mixed together, churned up, smeared across him and everybody else too. Gummy piles slid across his chest, down his sides, together in half-congealed masses, slowly spreading out over the rock table and down onto the floor shoved fingers into his mouth to keep him from swallowing, slop thinned with drool piling up in the back of his mouth. A cockhead rubbed against his lips, spurting pre across the roof of his mouth, pouring down into the lake flooding his mouth, and then another and another, drizzling cords of pre and come past his lips until it overflowed and spilled down his cheeks. The fingers swirled around in the thick, slimy mess, before pulling back, emerging coated in a thick, batter-like layer of gritty slime, stretching out in a long cord before snapping. The drones crooned, jerking off over his face, adding more layers to the mess, cords streaming down his cheeks, settling over his closed eyes, pooling in the hollow of his throat. Dom gagged and then coughed, a mess of come going everywhere including up inside his throat, burning into his windpipe and sinuses, and he sputtered, twisting his head to the side as the itch up inside his face increased for a moment before sneezing explosively, gritty come scraping through his sinuses, just matching the itch worse, making him sneeze again, and again, each one pumping slimy cords of come through his nose. Slimy cords of cum and snot hung from his nostrils, drooling from his gagging mouth, smearing all across his face as he gasped and sputtered, each breath blowing a froth of bubbles from his nostrils or from his mouth; both equally drenched and flooded with come. The drones around him laughed and roared, turning his face back up -- Dom wheezed, hardly able to breathe through the mess flooding his throat and mouth, gargling slime, fingers scraping through the layers of slime over his cheeks and shoving the slathered mess back into his mouth, coaxing him to swallow it back down gnarled cockhead pushing into his flooded mouth, a mess of come burbling out around its girth, pouring in thick lines across his upturned face. More and more of the new cock plunged into him, until he was pinned between the drone's fat thighs, his huge gut pressing down across Dom cracked open an eye, squinting to keep the half-inch thick pile of ooze across his face from getting in his eyes. Not a drone. Stratton. Stratton caught him looking and winked, milking the last of his load out across Dom's chest -- gritty grey locust jizz, but threaded through with the red syrup the rest of the altered humans came. "Can you blame me? Wanted to see what all the fuss was about." He slid his fingers over Dom's lips, pressure and prickling heat singing down through the touch, and then pushed inside, immersing them in the mass of come filling his mouth. Letting Dom suck on them, just spitting come all across his hand. "You're a good cocksucker." fingers spreading his ass, a burble of come spilling out, but then somebody scraped their hand across his ass cheek, catching the come and a whole handful of slime too, and shoveled all that back into his hole, working their thick, clawed fingers back and forth over his bruised rim. too slick and drenched for even hands on his shoulders to help; there was the pressure of the fist in his ass, hands pushing on his ass checks, and a matching pressure across his shoulders, but then his body just slipped up over them, nearly sliding off the table entirely. Some of the drones laughed, clapping their hands across his shoulders and chest more solidly, come welling up around their hands as they tried to grasp his limbs. There was a press all across his chest and shoulders, hands and forearms and elbows keeping him pinned in place, and almost incidentally a heavy, soft locust dick ground up across his head, burying his face under their lumpy, lopsided balls. He had a swollen, bloated belly, skin drawn taut over the mass of come inside him, pumped in from both ends. He was so bloated it hurt: stomach rolling with a thick, heavy weight, rippling nausea rising with each motion; his guts were aching, flooded and cramping with gummy clots of come, strange twistings coming from inside him as stringy masses of come slurped back and forth through the curves of his bloated guts. Dom gasped, heaving, the back of his mouth flooded with sour, gritty come as his throat reflexively spasmed. eyes tearing up, reflexively gagging around the fingers probing the back of his mouth. He coughed up a mess of come, gurgling, and the drone used the added slickness and his convulsing throat to push deeper -- entire hand shoving into his wrecked mouth, fingers shoving into his throat. Dom gagged again, harder, puking up a stringy mess of come all across the drone's arm, and the drone just used his other hand to smear it up and down his forearm, evenly lubing himself up. The drone ground his knuckles against the roof of Dom's mouth, fingers digging into the flesh of his throat and prying it open wider. Dom gurgled, spasming throat trying to clench against the intrusion, two fists toying with the broken rim of his ass, slurping back and forth across the gigantic, rubbery swell of bruised flesh his asshole had become, talons digging in under the rim and tugging, stretching him open even further. jaw split open, entire field of vision eclipsed by a grotesquely-muscular locust forearm, muscles shifting under his leathery hide as he slowly twisted his wrist deep down in Dom's throat. Dom gagged again, weakly, expelling another wash of come, most of it pouring down his upturned face in clumpy waves. [ way later when dom is all cumflated & sloshing: ] kneeling on the bench, shoulders pressed against the rail, bloated gut left free to hang down beneath him. Dom breathed deep, aware of the constant slosh of his bloated gut -- he looked just as pregnant as Marcus or Carmine had, except his gut was full of nothing but what had to be gallons of come at this point, stretching his belly out into a fat, drooping teardrop. Thick, chunky come poured from his ass in a constant drizzle, his balls buried under layers of congealed slime, gummy, half-dried coats of come peeling off his inner thighs from the friction of getting fucked. Fingers played over the rim of his pouting, prolapsed asshole, sometimes catching on strips of glued-on come and peeling them away, revealing the raw, sensitive flesh of his broken asshole.

marcus blows some drones in front of stratton & rook [^]

[... much later back in some locust city. marcus has since run into myrrah again who was like "yeah you should get the eggs out of the kid before he ruptures; he won't have enough time to fully shift before they hatch" and this leads to him getting carmine down into the hollows for a meet-up with some locust] "Yeah, he brought the kids," the Locust said -- snarled, really, voice guttural and snapping. Behind him, Carmine looked... worried, shuffling back. Stratton looked back at the Locust, almost leering. Marcus gestured with his head. "Those eggs I planted in you are gonna rip their way out unless they get taken care of first." He nodded his head toward the Drones. "They're gonna help." Carmine didn't look reassured. "C'mon." Marcus tugged at Carmine's vest, dragging the zipper down. His stomach practically poured out, undershirt straining and ragged already, his flesh underneath equally ragged. The Locust whistled, leering, as Marcus stripped Carmine's shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, flushed and sweaty in the underground heat. "His pants too," the leading Drone said, leering, and when Marcus snarled at him he just said "How did you think we'll get the eggs _out_?" Carmine unsteadily unfastened his pants, groaning as his stomach bulged an inch wider, red imprints hot on his skin as he shucked his pants, toeing out of his boots until he was standing naked on the cavern floor, face beet red. Stratton just stripped, tossing aside his stained undershirt and standing there buck naked in front of a half-dozen Locust, completely unselfconscious. A Drone knelt in front of Carmine and went right for his cock. Carmine jerked back, staring back and forth between the immense Drone in front of him and Marcus, standing to the side. Carmine wasn't hard; cock half-shifted and just barely poking out from his sheathed foreskin. The Drone stroked him, other hand curving delicately over the swell of his stomach, just pumping him slowly as he started to harden. His cock looked even stubbier under the swell of his stomach, fat and stumpy, and when his developing fishhook spines split apart into tentacles it barely even looked like he had a cock anymore, just the strange wet opening up inside his cock. The Drone groaned, hips shifting, his own cock bulging back and forth between his thighs as he rutted against the ground. His immense hands spread Carmine's hole, pulling the flushed flesh until it parted. Carmine whimpered, slime starting to drool down, the inner ring of his slit clenching and flexing. The Drone inhaled, sound slurping and wet, practically snuffling up against Carmine's flesh, and when his fingers pushed inward Carmine's legs almost buckled, the ring of muscle inside his cockslit clenching and working around the fat protrusion. Everyone else -- Marcus, Stratton, and the rest of the drones -- were frozen in place, watching as the head drone slowly fucked his fingers inside Carmine's cock, working his slit open. Red slime slopped down over his fingers, still cloudy-white, crackling and glurping as the drone drove his clawed fingers knuckle-deep inside Carmine. His knuckles crested over the fleshy opening, popping back and forth over the ridge of his entrance, and Carmine's legs _did_ buckle, sending him crashing to the ground. The drone took it as an opportunity; fell with him, wrapped his hands around the stubby base of Carmine's cock, face pressed right up against the oozing hole. His tongue squelched lewdly when he lapped over the seizing, spasming ring of muscle. Carmine groaned, hips arching up as much as he could, hands searching for the drone's head, finally curving over the smooth flesh of his scalp. Carmine bore down, grinding the drone's face against his sloppy hole, until his face was a mess of slime. The drone shoved his fingers inside again, all of them, knuckles bashing against the rim of Carmine's slit before it bowed outward with a long, obscene slurp, slime bubbling up thick and red as the drone sunk both hands into Carmine's gaping hole. The drone finally pulled back, face dripping slime in fat dollops over Carmine's thigh. "Call them," he said over his shoulder, and Marcus jerked up, having forgotten almost entirely about the other drones as he focused on Carmine's debauched body. Some of them were openly jerking off, hands working under their kilts, and he had to resist the urge to get down there and do it himself. Two of the drones pulled themselves away, heading deeper into the hollow, leaving only one behind, eyes screwed shut, tunic a mess, kilt dripping from the inside. Fuck it, Marcus thought, and walked over. The drone only noticed when he was a foot away, eyes snapping open, almost worried, but then Marcus fell to his knees, the fragrant odor of Locust jizz searing acrid and hot right through his nostrils, hitting something sharp in his brain. He was drooling, saliva kicking in, pooling in his mouth. Carmine was squirming and moaning, the sound liquid and wet as the Drone dove back in. His fists were probably opening up inside him, plunging through the slime-clogged passage of his cock -- Marcus' cock throbbed, thinking of them spreading him like that, punching right up his cock. Right now, though, Marcus only had eyes for the drone in front of him. He jerked the drone's kilt up. Pre splashed up in a sloppy wave all across his front, drooling in sheets down the rubbery fabric, and the Locust's immense, warty cock bobbed forward. The drone's fist was wrapped tight around the base, and the entire thing bulged out fatter and harder. A rumbling moan built up in Marcus' chest, bursting from his mouth, and he raggedly lurched down, drool spilling over his lips before he even wrapped his mouth around the fat tip. It was jaw-crackingly thick, spurting foul grey-yellow slime in watery gushes, and Marcus swallowed again and again. Sloppy pre splattered in the back of his mouth and slid down his throat as he nursed on the fat tip. His lips curled over the chunky lip of the drone's cockhead, the warty hide rough on the inside of his cheek as he drooled and slobbered down the shaft. He pulled off with a pop, glimmering strings of precome splattering down his chin, smearing in his soulpatch when he dragged a thumb over his mouth. He looked up at the drone. "C'mon, man, shove it in me," he said, voice thick. "Fuck my mouth." He half-mumbled it against the drone's cockhead, hot flesh slick and salt-rancid over his lips, twitching with the drone's pulse. The drone groaned, lifting one huge hand to scrub back and forth over Marcus' scalp, skewing his hair in all directions. He bore down, cock popping into Marcus' mouth and then bashing against the back of his throat. It was practically fist-sized, blocky and heavy, and Marcus convulsed, gagging. Wet retching noises came out muffled around the drone's fat cock as Marcus tried to swallow, and after a few tries the drone tugged him forward, practically mounting his face. His thighs clamped around Marcus' head, darkness falling around him as the kilt fell back down, a wet crack when it slapped against the back of his head, molding to his skin. The drone twisted, cock pivoting in Marcus' mouth, until his balls were mashed, sweaty and dripping, all across his face, flattening his nose, and his face was tipped up, throat a straight channel all the way down. He just dragged Marcus' head up, hand clamped on the back of his head. Heavy crusted warts ground past his lips as the cockhead pushed deeper, slamming into the back of his mouth and then popping with a wet retching noise deeper, plugging his open chute. He dragged Marcus further up, ignoring the slobbery gagging and retching noises as his cock slammed down his throat. His neck stretched, the tunnel of muscle snapping tight around the block of the drone's cock, distending the column of his neck. His Adam's apple bulged out, meaty and heavy, throat vibrating and seizing. His breath was plugged, but his nostrils still flared where they were flattened under the drone's balls, the spicy-rotten smell of sweat sinking into them, droplets of it dripping up his nose. Marcus choked, bellowing groan completely flattened. His jaw hung loose, still only barely open wide enough for the drone's fat cock to shove further in. Drool and pre and thick phlegm flooded his mouth, squelching out around the drone's fat shaft. The thick slurry dripped down all over his dazed face, smeared back and forth by the churning motions of the drone's immense balls. The drone hilted himself with a roar, thighs clenching around Marcus' head, and only the drone could feel the answering groan, Marcus' throat vibrating all around the length of his dick. Marcus' mouth flattened against the drone's crotch, warts like huge barnacles bulging where his pubes would be, scratching over Marcus' lips until they bled. His lips were already cracked around the sheer girth of the drone's cock, splits stinging from sweat and slime coating them. The drone's balls were like burning weights, crashing against his cheeks, rolling heavy and steaming hot to rest against his eyes, pushing down with enough weight he saw bright patterns behind his closed eyes. The drone let go of the back of his head and Marcus collapsed like his strings were cut. The cock pulled out with a liquid gush, heavy slime coating its oozing length as it tore its way out his aching throat. Marcus sprawled flat, boneless. He took a ragged breath, his face flushed, open eyes seeing nothing but shining grey spots. He coughed and gasped for breath, throat broken wide and radiating pain. The drone's cock was drooling heavy lines of slime, splattering across his craggy cheeks, winding through his prickly stubble, matting the hair under his lip to his skin in a sloppy fan. The drone's knees hitting the ground were like thunder in his ears, his cock like an iron bar smashing against his jaw, painfully hard. The drone's balls crashed against his face again, wet skin dripping stinging fluid into his eyes, smearing his eyes shut. Laid out like that, balls drooping down Marcus' face, cock rutting over his neck to his chest, and when he drew back Marcus knew exactly how deep he'd take that cock. Marcus opened wide, jaw slack. The drone just slammed inside in a single motion, slime bubbling out past Marcus' lips, drooling from his nose, as the drone hilted himself. The cock just tore down his throat, past the back of his throat, past the spasming column of his neck, practically shoving its way into his stomach. The pulse of the Locust's rapid heartbeat thundered in his ears. The corded veins along his warted shaft flared against the broken tube of his throat, feeling like they were just an extra fraction of pressure, forcing his aching throat just that much wider. The drone fucked his mouth like it was just a hole, hips pistoning down until he crashed against Marcus' face, jaw popping, thighs bracketing his head like tree-trunks, and then he pulled back, cock emerging with a spray of slurried fluids all over Marcus' face, just long enough for him to try and drag in a single squelching breath, and then he pistoned all the way back down, hilting himself, balls smashing against his face, impact stinging and sharp enough to bruise. Marcus couldn't tell how long it went on for. His hands were clamped around the Locust's thighs, though whether it was to pry him off or drag him further down he couldn't tell. The done's skin was slick under his fingers, sloppier and sloppier. Head under the drone's kilt, in humid darkness, the slopping noises from his brutalized mouth almost drowned out the drone's roar. The cock pulsed, the whole length pulsing fatter for one shrieking instant, finally managing to dislocate Marcus' jaw with a hollow _pop_ deep in his skull and a shock of pain creeping up his ear. His throat bulged until Marcus thought he was just gonna split, sharp pain that only receded into a dull ache after the drone'd been unloading into him for seconds. Rank locust come shot straight down into his stomach, thick and clotted in his burning throat. Marcus whined, the sound just a muffled rumble, and jerked back. He shoved the Locust back, cock pulling halfway up his throat in a red drag, and he gagged again. Slime erupted from his mouth, bile and rancid come, sloshing over his cheeks, but Marcus just sucked, choking when he tried to swallow it back down. His tongue lashed against the underside of the Locust's shaft, coaxing it back until the head finally popped from his throat, and the next spurt flooded his mouth with bitter Locust jizz. Marcus groaned, abused throat unable to even swallow. The foul fluid piled up in his mouth, coating his tongue in a potent layer of slime before it overflowed, spilling over his sloppy, slime-smeared skin. He tried to swallow and gagged, come tearing through his sinuses and coming out in sloppy strings from his nostrils, burning all smell out, leaving him with just the thick chunky texture, bitter-salty, dimly savory. He tried again and again to swallow it down, nursing on the tip, lips stretched right under the cockhead. The drone just kept unloading in his mouth, until his face was splattered and crusty with locust jizz. The drone shot his load in chunky strings, corded slime slopping down Marcus' craggy cheeks, spilling over his forehead to soak his skullcap. He was filthy and disheveled once the drone finally finished, the drone's cock just drooling vile slime down his face in fat, chunky blobs. He tried to say something, "Fuck yeah," maybe, but his throat caught, and he ended up just coughing heavy wells of locust jizz against the drone's balls. Marcus rolled over, coughing and spluttering, spitting out chunks of yellow-green come. The fluid coated all the inside of his mouth, squelching between his teeth as he drew ragged breaths, throat aching and webbed all along the inside with Locust jizz. He snorted, fat slugs of jizz shooting through his nose and splattering on the ground, and on the next inhale his sense of smell shot back, the red iron smell of his own blood, but also the musky reek of Locust jizz, in a swampy mire all around him, metallic and bitter, musky and rancid as it dripped down the bridge of his nose, dense and potent. His cock was achingly hard, distending the crotch of his pants and sliding down his left leg, drooling at his knee. Each inhale, heavy Locust musk catching on his tongue, made his cock pulse and spit, his own red-slime precome soaking through his pants. He finally sat back on his haunches, wiping the worst of the mess off his face, just in time for the other drones to return. Carmine was splayed out on the ground, drone eating him out, his spines wrapped right around the drone's head, like some kind of facehugger squid, and he was just groaning and rutting against his face, red slime slopping and squelching as he jammed his cock against the drone's face. Stratton was with the other drones, his Locust dick straining just like theirs, dripping thick slime as they all watched Carmine and Marcus. Something moved in the shadows behind them, and Marcus stared, uncomprehending, before it resolved itself into another drone. But different -- more heavily-muscled than most Locust, almost to the point of absurdity, and where the other drones were heavily armored, dressed in their regalia, this one was just wearing some cast-off pants, heavy worn khaki, chest bare. The chest was the strange part: the drone's skin was an ashy charcoal, not just grey-black but crusted and flaking like it really was burnt, and down the line of his chest there was a _glow_. At first Marcus thought it was paint, some kind of tribal locust shit, but when the drone turned away from him the color bowed and bulged -- it was coming from _inside_ him. Raw imulsion glow, the fluorescent yellow, burned through his flesh and muscle, casting the shadow of his bones. The drone opened his mouth to speak -- in guttural lurching Locust -- and the inside of his mouth was glowing too, gums and the inside of his lip the same burning yellow color. They said something, but Marcus wasn't paying attention, still a little dazed from the brutal throat fucking. The drone pulled away from Carmine, his fishhook spines really acting like squid suckers, trying to coax him back to the gaping mess of Carmine's cock, but he shook them off, standing and then dragging Carmine to his feet. Another of the drones had to help, practically carrying Carmine between the two of them, and Marcus only snapped to attention when the drone next to him started moving too, heading deeper into the hollows. He couldn't tell for how long they walked, just following the bizarre glow of the imulsion-saturated drone, the shuffle-scrape of Carmine being half-dragged. They descended deeper and deeper underground. The temperature rose and rose until he was dripping sweat, and about the fifth time he thought they must have been taking them to the core of the planet itself they rounded a corner and the winding tunnel opened.

stratton gets sounded & cumflated by lambent drudge dick-tentacles + lays his eggs + unbirths and then rebirths a drone [^]

[ split this scene into three: one focusing on marcus, & others focusing on carmine & stratton getting tfed. in no particular order. ] It was a vast cavern, dotted with gleaming pools and lakes of Imulsion, the fluid just bubbling up from some deeper deposit, sloshing sluggishly against the cavern floor, propelled by some internal motion. In the distance there were the dim lights of some city, like some new locust warren. Here, the only light was from the pools, painting everything in a bitter yellow light. Their strange group headed for the closest one, something like a shoal, a wide U-shaped pool, shallow, with a peninsula of rock jutting out into the center. The drones were nearly dragging Carmine, body shining with sweat, and for the first time Marcus noticed he was half-crowned already, the first of the enormous eggs pushing from the bloated mess of his cock, stretching the gaping flesh even further. Stratton was less far along, fewer eggs to worry about inside him, but his already-altered cock was nowhere close to the alien thing hanging between Carmine's legs -- almost human, if "human" could really be applied to the foot-long shaft, grubby grey and green and covered in fat blisters. But the drones knew what to do, and they got to work. --- Marcus -- with his Drone guides -- had lead them down deep into the Locust underground, and Stratton couldn't help but look around when the tunnel opened up into a vast underground cave. It was Imulsion shallows; air humid with something that wasn't water, the rotten-metal smell of Imulsion that he was rapidly starting to associate more with Locust jizz. There were figures bathing in the imulsion pools like they were hot springs, movements dragging through the thick liquid, their bodies emerging coated in a thick, slimy layer of glowing fluid. Freaky. But not any freakier than anything he'd gotten up to in the past few weeks. Why not let some Locust poke and prod at his dick; at this point it wouldn't be the first time. There was a pressure in his gut, down low, that'd gotten stronger and stronger as the eggs Marcus had fed him had grown and matured. And, well, Marcus would have no problem pumping eggs through his dick, and even Carmine looked to be making some headway -- he was sprawled out sloppily sucking face with a drone while two others worked his cock, deformed into lopsided swells where the eggs had lodged down the length of it. But out of the three of them, it was Stratton with the smallest dick, and it was small consolation that he had a bigger dick than all the drones. He sure as hell didn't have a dick big enough to _birth_ through. And so there was just the pressure inside him, growing and growing with no idea whatsoever how to get the eggs out before he burst around them. "You gonna fix up my dick, huh?" he said, looking at the drones that had split off to go with him. A month ago -- hell, a week or two ago -- he wouldn't be caught dead like this, actually talking to the Locust, but -- well, last time they'd captured him they'd given him the cock he had now. The drones lead him over, close to the lip of one of the pools, and then they shoved him down to his knees as a figure got out of it. It was one of the glowing drones, skin black ash constantly flaking off, like he was getting burned from the inside out. The imulsion bath he'd been soaking in had dried to a dingy crust, flaking off as he came close. He wasn't just hot to the touch; the air around him felt like a fire. "Hey, sup," Stratton said, nodding his head as well as he could with drone hands pressing down on his shoulders, and the drone huffed out a dry crackling laugh. "You got the drone treatment, huh?" the lambent drone said, tipping Stratton's head to the side, looking at his eyes, and then released him, looking down at Stratton's cock, stubbornly hard under his pregnant gut. "Then you got some eggs in you. What a mess." His voice was husky, rasping a little on the exhale. "No shit," Stratton muttered, and the drone laughed. It was hard to miss it: Stratton was on his knees and so the lambent drone's cock was just about perfectly at eye level, its pendulous weight slapping against the drone's thighs as he looked over Stratton's patchy skin. His cock was -- it looked like it was on fire, almost, imulsion haze visibly rippling the air around it. There were blisters all up and down the shaft, fat pustules filled with pure imulsion, knobbly and heavy, all the way to his cockhead, just a little too big to fit in the drone's half-retracted foreskin, the span of his uncovered cockhead glowing like an ember. His balls -- Stratton couldn't tell if he even had balls as such; his sac was grossly distended into a mess of lumpy swells that glowed through the skin, whatever things there a mess of differently-sized lumpy clusters. Honestly it was kinda hot. The drone looked him over for a few seconds longer, fingers digging roughly into the meat of his shoulders and back, and then he fell to his knees too. Stratton's gaze just followed his cock, the half-hard shaft lolling to the side, slapping against his thigh, and then lolled down to come to rest at the junction of their thighs. All the drone's skin was burning hot, but his cock felt like it might actually be hot enough to _burn_; he squirmed a little just to get it to slide down further off of him, its lumpy weight settling between the drone's spread thighs. They were almost pressed together, knees knocking against each other, so close all Stratton could smell was the burned-Imulsion musk of the drone, his entire front shiny with sweat from the heat. Stratton made to close the distance, reaching out, only to have one of the drones surrounding him grab him back, pinning his arms behind his back. He gave out a short bark of a laugh, straining his wrists against the drone's grip. "No touching, huh?" He leered at the drones watching, all of them hard -- the cock of the drone holding him pressed against his back, dribbling pre down his sides. "You're a real kinky bunch of fuckers, anybody ever told you-- mmph!" He was cut off when the lambent drone reached for him, hand wrapped around the back of his head, kissing him roughly, all but shoving his tongue into Stratton's mouth. Stratton moaned into the kiss, hips jerking forward, bobbing cock swiping across the drone's stomach, cocks clashing together for a second. The lambent drone pulled back, tongue swiping out to lap at Stratton's lower lip -- the inside of his mouth was all glowing, flesh totally suffused with imulsion, the strings of spit drawing out between them glowing themselves. Stratton breathed hard, sending the strings vibrating, just watching the lambent drone, charcoal skin flaking off, seams of brilliant pure-imulsion blood bubbling up in thick sappy clusters when his skin flaked the thinnest. It didn't look particularly pleasant, but the drone wasn't complaining at least. Heat burned up Stratton's side, the touch hurting when the drone lingered, long enough that Stratton squirmed away. drone's cock thickened, flesh thickening, imulsion blisters fluttering as it pumped more down there: they bulged out further and further until it seemed like they would all just rupture, huge puffy swells of skin stretched translucent around the dense mess of imulsion within. The drone tugged Stratton's cock up, his cockhead pressing against the drone's stomach, settling in pressing against a field of ember-hot flesh. Stratton groaned, the heat wavering back and forth over the line of too painful; his cock, all swollen and made of leathery locust-hide, took the heat a lot better than the rest of him. It throbbed, a sharp pressure squeezing up inside Stratton's body, and he dribbled out a sloppy line of pre, winding down the lambent drone's stomach in a fast-drying line. The drone twisted, tugging Stratton closer, and his cock broke the crust of pre sticking them together, peeling away dusted in ash, before the drone swiped his fingers up his drooling cock, washing it clean with a fresh layer of burning pre. Stratton let out a little whine, the leathery flesh of his cock better suited to the heat but still -- too much. "'s fuckin' hot, man," he said, watching the stringy imulsion pre bake itself into a hard crust down the underside of the drone's shaft in seconds. "Like-- literally." "Maybe this'll be a more gentle intro," the drone said, milking his cock, squeezing -- the gush of imulsion pre into his hand half from his cock and half from a big puffy blister he drove his claw into, digging down until it popped. Imulsion haze billowed up between them, burning all up Stratton's chest and making him jerk back, eyes stinging wildly, looking up and blinking fast as tears streamed down his face. He missed the actual motion, just feeling a burning explosion blossoming up across his cock, all that same heat with -- thankfully -- a fraction of the pain. Stratton's whole cock tingled, imulsion pre soaking into his skin, a weird kind of itch spreading down to his balls, burning back into his guts. The drone smeared the mess of imulsion along his shaft, heat soaking down into his flesh in a way that had all the remaining human skin on his body standing up in goosebumps. "Holy shit," Stratton breathed, gulping in breath, goosebumps followed in seconds by hot chills, the sweat trickling down his back redoubling, sweat dripping down his forehead into his already-stinging eyes, vision just becoming a mess of indistinct lights, everything fluorescent yellow and black. The drone stroked him off, milking his own cock to get a fresh mess of imulsion and working it into Stratton's cock, making sure to smear some of it across his inner thighs and then down to his balls, hanging low in the heat. _Then_ he pressed their cocks together again, the burning, scalding heat -- just as intense, just, less painful now. The drone's cock twitched, rippling against Stratton's, pumping a sloppy wash of pre over his skin, drooling down their shafts. The drone ground their cocks together, hands wrapping around both shafts and pumping. The lambent drone groaned, rutting forward, and spat a gush of gleaming spit down onto their cocks, hand smearing it through the rest of the slime, hand gliding up and down their sloppy cocks. Stratton blinked a lot, looking down, and the drone laughed, breath puffing out across his chest. "Hold on," he said, and reached up. Stratton closed his eyes, the drone wiping the burning tears out of his eyes, smearing his closed eyelids with burnt charcoal flesh, and when he opened his eyes he could see at least a little, blinking more until anything came into focus. Fuck, maybe this was it, just have somebody jerk him off until he was coming eggs. He could get into that. Stratton hunched forward, humping into the drone's strokes, panting from the heat of it -- heat soaking deeper and deeper into his cock until the whole thing felt aflame, rubbery and swollen and aching. Stratton groaned, cock spurting its own contribution to the slimy mess smeared across their cocks. He could've gladly gone on like that until he came, but then there was a new kind of motion rippling up the drone's cock, a groan not at all like the soft sounds he'd been making bursting out from the drone's mouth. His cock shuddered, slit gaping into an enormous open oval, and Stratton prepared to catch a huge mess of boiling imulsion come all across his chest, but -- "Woah, holy shit!" Stratton yelped, staring down at the drone's cock. Something bubbled up from inside the drone's cock that was for sure; something _solid_. A tendril surged up, an inch or two of dark flesh like a spike stabbing out from inside. The tendril lapped out from the inside, like a tongue pushing from a mouth, twisting like it was tasting the air. The drone groaned, sagging forward, holding on to Stratton for support as his cock-tentacle shoved out further, entire body wracked with each spasm that shoved another inch of it out into the open. It was almost spiky, covered in warts that came to a peak; it rasped over Stratton's belly and thighs, slowly enough spilling out that its stiff twists could wrap all the way around his shaft. It felt -- weird as all hell, a big leathery cord wrapped around his cock, slick with pre and bizarrely animate. The drone reached down, fingers guiding it up, and Stratton had an idea of what was gonna happen just before the tip of the tentacle dug into the underside of his cockhead, its stiff tip digging against the swollen lips of his cock, squirming between them to fit down inside his cock. "Holy shit," he said, again, sensation -- like nothing he'd ever felt before that was for fucking sure, a weird spiky tongue lapping deeper and deeper down his shaft, the drone getting enough composure back to tug his cock down, their cocks pressed together head-to-head, every shudder through the drone's body as he forced out another fraction of an inch of tentacle matched by an answering one in Stratton's when the tentacle probed a fraction deeper. The tentacle caught, digging into the inner walls of his shaft for fractional moments before shoving deeper, the sensation so sharply intense he caught his breath each time, gasping nearly in time with the drone. The drone ground their cocks together, hips jerking up, cock twitching. It jerked itself off, groaning, and Stratton tilted forward enough to kiss him, tongue dragging papery shreds of ash across his lips, the both of them breathing into each others' mouth, whining or whimpering as an inch of tentacle shoved up the lambent drone's cock and into Stratton's, down until it tapped against the base of his shaft and just kept going. The drone shuddered and his cock pulsed, come -- or whatever the fuck the lambent drone had -- racing up his shaft and pumping through the tentacle, only a thin smear of pre actually spilling out around it. The tentacle was hollow, apparently, and then Stratton got to feel the bizarre sensation of come pumping backwards down his cock, erupting out in a gush somewhere below the base of his shaft. Stratton hissed, breathing fast, as imulsion pumped into him. He could feel it all, urethra bulging, twisting back past the root of his shaft and then up into his prostate. His urethra swelled, the already-oversized, finger-thick tube feeling bloated twice as wide, stretching easily at least so far. The drone's tendril squirmed deeper, tapping against the underside of his shaft before it followed up around, pushing inside his prostate as it spat out the next gush of imulsion. Stratton groaned, imulsion-soaked flesh of his prostate burning and churning, swelling up fatter and fatter from the direct exposure. It wasn't just a tube running through his prostate; his flesh parted and branched, prostate a mess of tightly-furled flesh all packed together, passages branching and branching, and now every passage was flooding with imulsion. The tendril squirmed, milking him from the inside, and Stratton's cock tensed and pulsed, trying to fire a gush of pre that just mingled with the imulsion and got pumped deeper. Stratton tensed, the tendril squirming higher -- a pressure like really having to take a piss growing as the thing pushed through into what was he guessed his bladder, before the drone realized that was a wrong turn. The tendril twisted around itself, sliding back down, and then squirmed around inside his prostate, questing through the maze of passages, steadily gushing imulsion, bathing his prostate in pump after pump of burning ooze, until, finally, until it found its target. The next spurt -- it felt like lava burning inside him, sharp enough Stratton got woozy. Heat burst through his prostate, up in curving arcs before it poured down into his balls in a backwards-flood. The tubes draining into his balls shuddered and shook from the force of it, thick tarry imulsion pumped through them. It was like getting kneed in the balls, a half-nauseating burst of sensation, starting up a twisting, throbbing pain that radiated from his balls all the way back up to his prostate, the internal passage highlighted inside him. Stratton breathed fast and hard, whining in pain with each pump, forehead pressed against the drone's shoulder -- and then, looking down, his eyes went wide, watching the muted glow of imulsion shine through his skin, balls and the cords hooked up to them glowing a sickly yellow. But then the drone kept pulsing, flooding him more and more. His balls ached, bizarrely heavy even beyond the unnatural weight his big fat Drone dick had given him, and -- taut, flesh aching as they were flooded from the inside. Stratton sobbed against the drone's shoulder, breath hitching, balls valiantly trying to crawl back up inside his body cavity and just jostling more. But then there was a new pressure. One up inside him, just after his prostate, and one that bore down right against the steady pressure of the eggs inside him. He groaned, waves of pressure buzzing around inside his gut, feeling like they were bouncing off all his bones. But it was like scratching an itch, the imulsion burn soaking into the flesh that desperately needed it the most. The ache concentrated into something steady, throbbing and clenching, a tightly knotted muscle up inside him he hadn't even realized he had until now. Then there was a trickle across the side of his nose, tears finally spilling from his watering eyes. It drew him back, made him aware of how tightly-focused he'd been on his insides: he'd been staring blindly ahead, mouth slack, hands wrapped around the drone's sides and digging into the crinkling, crackling layer of ashy flesh. Sobbing weakly, making little sharp groans. The drone behind him wasn't really even holding him any more, just keeping his hands touching Stratton's shoulders and biceps, stroking his skin. He didn't know when he'd gotten his hands free, just that it was long enough ago that the lambent drone's imulsion blood was dripping down his fingers from how strongly he was digging into his thighs. The drone behind him, meanwhile, was just rubbing his cock against Stratton's back, rutting up and down, painting him with a sloppy coating of pre, chunky blobs dripping down all the way to his ass; he hadn't noticed until now. The lambent drone looked up, catching his now-present gaze, and smirked -- the motion showing off his glowing teeth and gums -- and leaned in, hand wrapping around Stratton's neck to pull him into a kiss. The drone's cock trembled, gushing more imulsion, and Stratton groaned, moaning into the kiss as a sloppy burst of imulsion streaked up through him. But in a moment that awareness was gone, body left dazed, panting into the drone's mouth as they kissed, gasping for breath as the burn of the imusion grew hotter and hotter. His inner plumbing was swollen from his cock to his balls and hit his-- locust _womb_ or whatever-the-fuck he had in between, all of it outlined inside him now that he was flooded to bursting with imulsion come. He ached from the pressure, each new burst just too much, and the lambent drone made to pull back, cockhead tapping against Stratton's, an inch of ropy tentacle slithering up his shaft and spanning out between them, drooling with slime. "Fuck no," Stratton said, lurching forward. He grabbed for the lambent drone's cock, jamming the length of tendril back down his cock until their cockheads pressed together again, pre dribbling down his shaft even as the tendril kept squirming and pumping. "That's what's gonna give me a bigger dick? Keep fucking going, man." The lambent drone let out a hitching laugh, squirming as his cock-tentacle twitched all the way from Stratton's cockhead to his fucking _cervix_. Stratton sure as fuck hoped this was as intense for the drone as it was for him. He held onto the drone, quaking and gasping, as the pressure slowly and steadily grew and grew. He collapsed forward, head resting on the lambent drone's shoulder. The tendril twitched inside him, gushing another spurt of raw imulsion. He let out a wracking sob, tears dripping down his face. His entire body tensed, hands clenched tight, skin shiny with sweat. "Keep going," he panted, sobbing between heaving breaths, whining from the pain with each new gush, balls and prostate beyond overfilled. Locust skin was stretchy, way more than human skin, but even he was reaching his limits -- his balls ached, like lead weights hanging from his crotch, lopsided double-fist sized each, churning and lurching as he clenched and relaxed, itching and burning everywhere as the imulsion soaked into him. His prostate felt outlined perfectly, flooded to bursting, and the burn sizzled up through it and out, like two wings unfurling inside him, heavy dense flesh stretching and flooding into lumpy, lopsided cords. Each clench of his abs sent a ripple of pain between his hips, the throb like a second heartbeat, seeming like every possible space inside him was filled to bursting with imulsion. All he could think about was the pressure, the spidery spread of tubes and glands inside him, all stuffed with imulsion: balls throbbing, the looping cords weaving through his sac and then up inside him all perfectly delineated by the steady throb of pain. He could follow the squirming passage back to his prostate, corridor flexing open and closed as he tried to pull his balls up, a fresh squirt flooding into his bloated, overstuffed prostate each time he relaxed. And higher up -- leeching into his bladder, a steady throb higher up to where he knew he was holding all those eggs. Imulsion battered at the few still-sealed pathways deeper inside him, the internal burning growing until it felt like a pyre under him, burning at whatever substance was holding his womb closed. Dimly he could hear the drones around him talking, laughing: some of them were betting on him, on how long he'd last; if he'd give up before he really did rupture something. It was a relief when his cervix burst, the flexing barrier above his prostate giving way, imulsion audibly gurgling up into his womb and bathing his eggs early. A new reservoir to hold the excess, to abate the pressure inside him. The tendril followed the gurgling flood and looped around itself to shove through his broken cervix, and then pump after pump flooded his womb directly. There was a hazy interval, Stratton lax, the pressure abating as the overflow pumped into his broken-open womb. But it was one that filled up fast: thick imulsion sloshed inside him as the pressure grew again, until the excess squirted down his cervix, the smack and slurp of his muscles vainly trying to push it out loud in his ears. Stratton just whined, his universe narrowed to the pulse of the drone's tentacle, overriding his racing heartbeat and sweaty skin, just sobbing at the eternal, unabating flow. The drone twitched, breaking his lax grip on their conjoined cocks, and even though he wanted more, he just couldn't make himself take anything more. Stratton gave a sad groan as the drone's tendril pulled out of him, lacing its way out of his womb, through his spasming cervix, what had to be feet of questing tentacle slowly slithering back up inside the drone's cock. The second the pressure let up his cock trembled and let loose a huge, gummy gush of imulsion, bursting out around the tendril still shoved all the way down his shaft. He groaned again, pawing at the mess, so much imulsion going to waste -- the lambent drone laughed. "Can't let it all just leak out," the drone said, though to Stratton it just sounded like so much rumbling noise; he pieced it together minutes later. In a second the drone's cock pulsed again. Something heavy and dense drooled out from the tendril, and Stratton's abused muscles tried to push out some of the mess overflowing his insides. The new fluid sluggishly surged up his shaft as the tentacle withdrew, tar-thick, drooling out as a gummy mess of grey-green tar, threaded through with imulsion. The drone pumped again, another gush of tar flooding his shaft before the tendril pulled out entirely with a wet slurp, and that was it -- the tar thickened fast, hardening inside him, until it felt like he had a warped rod shoved down his cock, sealed to his bloated urethra, a big waxy knob bulging out his glued-gaping cockslit, pressure inside him vainly fighting against it. Tar plugging the agonizing pressure of the imulsion inside him. "That good?" the lambent drone said, voice teasing in his ears as the drone's fingers slid down his shaft, over his burning balls, the slightest pressure sending rippling waves of pain cascading up inside him. Stratton clenched his eyes shut, a wet sob ripping from his mouth, and nodded. Even without more pumping into him there was the pain of what was already inside him -- the drones let him go and he barely caught himself before slamming to the ground, arms wobbling, whimpering and sobbing with each movement. His balls lurched to the side and slapped his thigh, pain like a gunshot tearing through him. He let out a shout, breath rushing from his chest, focusing only on inhaling, exhaling, letting the pain settle in him. He kept tensing his abs, trying to clench against the pain, except his prostate was so bloated and heavy that just made it hurt -- imulsion bursting out from some reservoir, flooding forward inside him only to sluggishly pour back into his aching prostate when he relaxed. Tears and snot dripped down his face as he groaned, nearly heaving at the slow churn of circulating imulsion, soaking into his mutated flesh but nowhere near fast enough for the pain to abate. Then one of the drones slapped his ass and he _howled_, drooling like he was about to vomit from the pain, thick spit spilling down his chin, adding its droplets to the wet rock beneath him. "You asked for it," one of them said, breath washing across his wet face, fat fingers digging between his cheeks, sliding into his hole almost effortlessly. "Just asking for it to hurt." The fingers found his prostate, gland so swollen it bulged out, utterly unmissable in his ass -- an immense lopsided blob of hard pressure, rock solid from the amount of slime pumped into him. Each rough prod made his insides convulse, the network of pipes and tubes throbbing from the added pressure. Then his balls finally started to grow. It felt like his skin was bulging in sheets, slipping and sticking together as it all stretched, slowly filling out. His balls convolved, dense flesh inside sucking up imulsion as they grew, suffusing his tubes with lines of heat. The imulsion poured down into his low-hanging balls, glowing bright lines through his stretched skin. His guts gurgled, imulsion gushing in spurts from his flooded womb, from his overfilled prostate, all sinking down to his titanic balls. They beat like a heart, the skin of his sac clenching and furrowing, his balls jerking up and down, squirming of their own volition as they grew, thudding larger with each beat, imulsion squelching and gurgling. could feel the convoluted flesh in his prostate folding over itself, wrinkling up into thicker, denser folds, painfully aware of the ooze and trickle of fresh pre, overworked and overstimulated. The spread wings running through it gurgled, soaking in imulsion almost as fast as his balls, audibly gurgling and slurping as they grew fatter and denser. Slick fluid drooled from them, churning to mix with the imulsion still flooding him. His cock lurched, pre erupting down through him, hitting the blocked opening to his shaft and stewing there. The drone's rough finger shoved inside him hit his prostate again, and this time it _squelched_, another gush of pre erupting against the barrier at the base of his cock. Stratton groaned low, moaning as the drone hammered his bloated prostate, again and again, fingers kneading it like a stress ball. The drone's knuckles shoved in past his anal ring, hitting his oversized prostate with the force of a punch, and Stratton bellowed, cock jerking, slime gurgling and sloshing inside him as he vainly tried to shoot off. There was another dirty laugh behind him, the drone shoving his palm against his prostate, flattening it down, letting its bloated folds smear against each other, pulsing solidly against his hand. The drone eased back, just waiting for the immense, hypertrophic gland to spring back so that he could hammer it again, each hit like he was manually pumping pre out, forcing it into Stratton's abused passages. It wasn't just his prostate; the two structures attached to it, the ones he could now feel oozing pre, a wet drip and drizzle pouring down inside him, bulged against the flesh of his inner ass, and as the drone reached deeper into him he felt them too, rough fingers rubbing up and down their blobby, lopsided length, grinding them flat. Pre pulsed through them, pumping hard with nowhere to go. the pressure against the underside of his balls, so huge now the bottoms were flattening against the ground. They hung all the way down to his knees, still throbbing and churning as they expanded. The flesh of his sac was soft and supple, like fresh leather, and the furrowed ridge crept all the way up to the tip of his cock, the entire foot-plus of its length little more now than a strut keeping his balls in place. His balls kept expanding, excess skin growing over his cockhead like a second foreskin, thick and wrinkled deep. Stratton growled, even as his breath stuttered with each solid hit to his prostate, the drone eagerly punch-fucking his hole, thumb dragging against the thin flesh between his ass and his prostate, smearing his abused flesh up and down, claws digging into the pulpy mess of his battered prostate. Fuck, he came here for a bigger _dick_ -- except as the thought crossed through his mind the steady itch of imulsion soaking through his cock grew to a burn. Stabbing pain lanced up and down his cock, twitching like mad, bowed down under the weight of his new balls. Stratton let out an agonized groan, burn outlining the fat chambers of his cock, cockhead feeling like it was on fire -- and when he let his head drop down his cock was glowing like a flashlight, the sliver of his cockhead peeking out from the wrinkles of his ballsac bright yellow, the folds covering the rest tinged purple-brown, veins all outlined through the murkily translucent flesh. His cock twitched again, pain like somebody was just gripping and _pulling_, but Stratton grit his teeth. "Fuck yeah," he hissed, hips lurching forward, balls audibly sloshing as they jerked forward and then rolled back, lopsided blobs sluggishly rolling against the rocky floor until they came to rest. His shaft burned, fat cock hard like a steel bar, imulsion soaking into his blood, pressurizing his cockhead till it felt like his skin was about to rupture. He huffed, hissing and drooling, his roars hardly distinguishable from a drone's as his cock finally grew. The skin bowed out, so slowly at first, cockhead lopsided as it pushed a fraction of an inch forward, more of its gleaming flesh peeking out from his heavy folds of ball skin. His cock pulsed, the burn spreading all the way down the root of his cock. The flesh of his taint bulged, the muscle of his cock inside him swelling until it stood stark against the flesh of his ass, a fat half-circle bulging out under his grotesquely-inflated balls. His cock lurched larger, flesh creaking as it stretched, thinly sheathing the growing structures inside him, fat caverns of tissue flooded with blood and imulsion. His cockhead dug against his chest, fat head pressing against the underside of his pecs as it slowly lengthened, fat as his fist and just getting fatter. "Yeah, yeah!" Stratton groaned, laughing with each wheezing breath, slamming his ass back against the drone's fist as his cock finally started to catch up more and more dazed with every throb of his cock, his taut flesh bulging and bulging, little pockets of flesh across his cockhead and shaft finally meeting their limit and collapsing, bulging out into stiff rounded blisters, flooded with lymph and imulsion. Stratton wavered, vision going grey, gasping for breath, more and more woozy and lightheaded, sound and light thrumming through him in unfelt waves. The drone just shoved him over, trembling body going over hard, pivoting around the anchoring weight of his cock. His shoulder hit the rock, scraping, and Stratton opened his eyes, pulse throbbing up through his neck, red flashing behind his eyes. Probably half the blood in his body was in his dick, and even cut with all the imulsion there wasn't much left to go around. His cock surged, gleaming cockhead rock hard, as fat as his torso, even just its ridge a handspan deep, all sloppy with pre and imulsion when Stratton reached for it, tried to wrap his hands around it. The greasy blisters had grown into head-sized growths, a lumpy fringe of grubby pearls decorating the edges of his cockhead, flattening into huge disks down the length of his shaft, their edges rough and spiky like thick calluses as he dragged his hands back and forth, coming nowhere close to covering even a small part of the girth of his enormous cock. a syrupy, peeling motion, cock flexing and twitching around the lumpy rod of congealed jizz the drone had sprayed into him, his now-oversized cock flesh shuddering and straining, the very tip of his cock still glued together, sealed shut in what was now a tightly-puckered hole, all the new skin wrinkled up tightly around the tarry sound that had sealed his cock shut back when it was a fifth of the size it was now. Pre sloshed against it, pushing between the rod and his flesh, slowly peeling them apart. His cockhead bulged, a seam of loose flesh creeping higher and higher across the inside of his cock before it suddenly burst, a huge spray of grimy imulsion-yellow pre erupting out from him. His cock clenched and shuddered, new muscles inside it working, and the rod twisted and bobbed, the next gush shoving an inch or two of it out from Stratton's cock slit. It was so tiny -- comparatively. Only a handspan long, thick as two or three fingers. Now his cockslit was puckered around it, bunched skin slowly breaking off from where it had been glued to the rod, cockhead spreading out until it seemed like the rod was in danger of just sinking down inside him. reached in, fingertips smearing across the bloated dome of his cockhead before they parted his cockslit, reaching inside, and grabbed it, peeling the final few spots that were still attached apart. A messy, lopsided thing, grey-green and waxy to the touch. And now -- And now there was nothing keeping his cock from fitting a few eggs, though Stratton was sure as hell this wasn't how anybody had intended it to go, exactly. Except him, maybe. tiny passages that had been finger-thick, if that, now gigantic gaping openings. Somebody could reach down inside his cock and shove their fingers right into his prostate. Or-- looking at his cock that was now practically the same size as the rest of his body-- they could try, if they had long enough arms. His cervix clenched, spitting out imulsion, burning down through his prostate, and then with a spine-tingling clench he felt the first egg crest out. He knew exactly the path it was gonna take -- down to pass _directly through_ his altered prostate before getting pumped up through his cock -- but he wasn't at all prepared for how it'd feel. Internal muscles spasmed and clenched, inching that first egg further towards the dense, oozing mass of his altered prostate, waves of hot pleasure bursting up and rippling through his entire body, even from just the indirect pressure. The egg slopped down to wedge directly against his grotesquely-swollen prostate, and then, after an agonizing moment on the precipice, actually crashed inside. There was a white-hot burst of pleasure that hit and then didn't stop. Stratton was dimly aware of sobbing, or screaming, all other sensation drowned out by the spasms grinding the egg down harder and harder. The egg was struggling to fit, passing straight through the center of his prostate, dragging directly along his furled flesh. His prostate was just large enough to fully envelop the gestating egg, feeling like dense folds of meat cradling the egg, and there his birthing muscles had to work harder, egg sheathed inside, stuck, muscles bearing down harder and harder until the egg slowly ground lower, spilling out the underside of his prostate to slide unto the underside of his cock, what felt like an ocean of dammed pre sloshing just behind it, leaving Stratton limp and dazed, entire body tingling and hot. And that was just the first one. Stratton lay there, panting for breath, skin dripping with clammy sweat, muscles in his chest and stomach spasming each time the egg brushed against the lower rim of his bloated prostate. Already, as the first egg slowly started to pass up through his cock, he could feel the second bear down against his cervix. And Marcus had pumped, what, dozens? up inside him. "Ah, fuck!" He could feel the wet _thud_ of his cervix dropping, mashing his prostate between itself and his pelvic floor. His cervix spread, its thick muscular lips gaping, all but sucking on the inside-out folds of his squashed prostate as his eggs pushed out, burning through him in countless overwhelming orgasms as they pumped down into and then up through his shaft. His hands and a dozen more guided the colossal battering ram that was his cock, dragging him bodily by the cock a few feet forward so he was perched at the edge of a pool of imulsion, pre gushing down into it like a waterfall. Stratton laughed, rough and raucous, petering out into gasping and sobbing, face streaked with tears and snot. His cock lurched, muscles across his hips wrenching hard, ludicrously oversized compared to his body now but still weak compared to the sheer heft of his cock. And then his cock itself lurched, crudely prehensile, new muscles inside it clenching and pumping as he shoved the eggs out. Carmine was still struggling with his, a wet sob with each one, and he just -- _tensed_, and the first egg erupted out of him with a waterfall of grimy orange pre. Compared to the still-fading ache from his tortured cock, the strain of the pregnancy was nothing. He pushed again, another egg slamming through his prostate in a chain of orgasms so strong they hurt, each rippling pulse soothing away the still-lingering burn of his transformation. Egg after egg ground against the root of his cock, sucked up inside with a slurp, rolling into place just like he was loading a cannon. He spat out egg after egg, hips jerking -- entire body working around the nearly-immobile weight of his cock, the massive thing maybe outweighing the whole rest of his body. His urethra bulged down the underside of his cock, the eggs just a series of lumps, hardly even straining his flesh. His cockslit parted and spat them out, one after another, the inside of his shaft pulsing and gulping, spitting out huge blobs of glowing orange imulsion-pre only to suck them back inside after each egg passed, fat bubbles clustering around his gaping slit and slowly drooling down the underside of his cock. Stratton roared, cock pounding as the drone shoved his entire arm down there. "Fuck you! Fuck-- gimmie more! More!" The blobby cilia lining the inside of his shaft pulled hard, wrenching the drone shoulder-deep, and the drone slid his other hand over the shiny dome of his cockhead, fingers playing with his sucking slit before he balled his hand into a fist and shoved it right alongside, all the way down his shaft. Stratton groaned, cock pulsing like a living thing. A fountain of pre sprayed up and over the drone's shoulders, crashing like a wave over the rocks behind him, receding to puddle beneath them. The drone's shoulders were set, arms spread, digging deep down into his cock -- but, fuck, only halfway down. The inner flesh of his cock was on display, stretched out into a gaping, hungry mouth, cilia lashing like so many tongues, them alone nearly burying the shape of the drone's huge arms. The drone leaned in, kissing the flesh of his cockhead, tongue swiping over the lip of his cockslit, tangling with the brace of cilia nearly sticking out from the tip. "Fucking--" Stratton started, groaned, hips jolting back and forth but only sluggishly sending his cock lurching forward, hitting the drone in the jaw like a punch, the bottom half of his face buried abruptly inside his cock. "Fucking do it, man, come on, come insi--" and he degenerated into a wild howl as the drone shoved in, shoved his whole fucking face into his gaping cock. Stratton threw his head back, blood pounding in his ears, just feeling the sensation -- the drone's huge body against his cock, his bloated cocklips sucking on his face, head, shoulders, all but bodily picking him up and dragging him in. Fuck, he'd thought of it with Marcus, when he was -- when Marcus nearly swallowed his head up with his cock, his face pressed against the plane of his crotch, drinking down each egg that had pumped out of him. Marcus had a cock that he could've shoved a fist down if he really tried, but this -- this was so much better. The drone shoved himself in, diving headfirst into his cock, the stretch -- fuck, he was so big. His flesh was rubbery, thick, heavy. He stretched, cock swallowing up the drone's thick chest, cilia dragging over his rough skin, and Stratton could feel every imprint, every stretch of the drone's hide, every wart and blister on him; the working of his jaw as he swallowed and sputtered, drinking down some tiny fraction of the flood gushing through Stratton's grotesquely oversized cock. [ stratton's cock swallows up a drone and stratton passes out, & then later maybe at the end of these three scenes stratton wakes up and notices the weight inside him and is kinda freaked out that he might've like killed somebody by eating them w/ his cock but no the drone is just chilling inside his womb, breathing imulsion slime. then stratton has to shove him out & the drone comes out like even huger and half-transformed into a lambent drone from stewing in stratton's juices ] like he had a boulder on top of him, a huge weight wedged against his ribs and pelvis, stomach a bulbous mess bloating out from his body like a foreign body, bloated even beyond the steady ache of his eggs. Stratton swam into consciousness, for a moment not remembering anything: no bloated cock, no birthing eggs, no drone crawling down his cock -- and at that one he tried to sit up, unable to move from the weight inside him, the fucking _locust drone_ curled up in his womb. His stomach was bloated, ripped ragged from the heft of having a _fucking fully-grown person_ inside him. He couldn't move, couldn't stand, pinned down by the weight inside him. For a moment he thought he'd fucking _ate_ him, swallowed the drone up with his cock, like he'd maybe fucking killed somebody with his dick, but then he caught the heartbeat of the drone, resonating through his stretched flesh, not-quite in time with his own. And then a weird dragging motion that he realized was breathing, though, _what_ the drone was breathing curled up in his womb was another question. contraction just like another egg, only this one was three, five, ten times larger. Stratton pushed, gasping and the drone curled up inside his womb lurched forward, shoved up against the mass of Stratton's abused prostate. He sobbed, muscles spasmodically shoving, every thought pushed out of his head by the chain of orgasms bursting through him as the drone slurped through his prostate -- head, shoulders, elbows all knocking against his battered flesh, sharp stabs of pain that made his prostate shudder and clench, wringing out masses of slimy, imulation-tainted pre, sluicing down the gaping-open shaft of his cock. The drone started squirming around when he got lodged at the base of Stratton's dick, fingers grasping, arms shaking, and he hauled himself up, clawing at the sloppy, cilia-coated walls of Stratton's cock, a hand bursting out from between his cockslit and grasping uselessly for purchase against the slimy dome of his cockhead. Stratton wasn't in any position to help; he just kept pushing, internal muscles spasming and seizing against the impossible bulk of the drone. The drone surfaced like he was breaking the surface of a lake, slime spraying off him in arcs, head and shoulders bursting out from Stratton's cockslit. The drone opened his mouth to draw in a breath and then heaved, vomiting up a frothing mass of slime; the thick imulsion ooze that was flooding Stratton's womb. The drone dragged in a shaky breath before heaving again, vomiting up lungful after lungful of slime in wheezing, heaving coughs. He raggedly dragged himself out of -- out of Stratton, out of his cock, out of his womb, hands clawing at the dome of Stratton's cock, at the ground. His hips surfaced, entire body drenched in the same slime, pouring off him in waves as he lurched out of Stratton's cock, legs still twisted together, feet kicking at the base of his cock. His hands finally found purchase, grasping Stratton's bloated cocklips, and he heaved himself out, crashing onto the ground, lying boneless, heaving up glowing ooze in sick sputtering gushes, dragging in shaky breaths between that always just ended in hacking coughs and another messy heave. He was still shoved inside Stratton's cock from the knees down, but neither of them were in any condition to move; Stratton dazed and trembling, the entire inner surface of his cock from tip to womb bruised and battered, the drone open-mouthed and drooling thick slime, on his elbows in the dust, practically facedown in his own imulsion-slime vomit. So it took Stratton at least a while before he realized the drone looked a hell of a lot different coming out than going in. No clue about when the _drone_ noticed. Before -- Stratton hadn't gotten the best look at him, honestly; he'd been busy with some other shit. But he'd looked -- Locust-y. The usual kinda thing you'd expect: grey-yellow-brown skin, big rocky protrusions all over, generally huge. But spilling out of his cock the drone looked most of the way towards being one of those _lambent_ locust: crackling black skin, shedding in charcoal layers, brilliant imulsion glow shining through his skin. As if to punctuate what he was already thinking, his cock shuddered and lurched, spitting out a mess of pre all across the drone, and now that he was actually looking, yeah, his pre was glowing. Neon yellow imulsion tinge, pre threaded through not with the chunky grey clots the locust came, but with opaque, magma-looking streamers of pure imulsion. Imulsion ooze slopped across the drone's hips, and Stratton could see it in real time, the drone's skin darkening looking like it was burning, bits of it curling up and flaking off, smearing into the grimy paste the drone was drenched head to toe in. No shit. cock was... enormous. Grotesque. It was one thing to have a cock that was as big as his legs, but his mind hadn't really caught up to the reality that his cock was big enough to straight-up fit somebody inside it without too much work. His cock was bigger than the rest of him. His entire body ached, most of it the bruised, brutalized muscles all across his stomach and hips. Aches in his prostate from where the drone's shoulders and elbows had rammed into sensitive flesh. He wasn't really clear if he could even _walk_; he was dimly aware of an increased bulk to his limbs, muscles swollen with new growth, but even if he had the legs of a powerlifter he probably couldn't manage the unwieldy bulk of his cock. It was gonna drag on the ground if he tried to stand up.

marcus egglaying [^]

They set Carmine down on the rock, and for the first time Marcus noticed that he was half-crowned already, the first of the enormous eggs pushing from the bloated mess of his cock, stretching the gaping flesh even further. The drones went to work, becoming just a dark mass surrounding him, hands groping and pulling at his stumpy cock as they coaxed the egg further out. Marcus winced looking at it; at least by the time he was pushing eggs through his cock he'd had a month's worth of transformation to make it stretchy; the eggs had gotten bigger, and Carmine wasn't anywhere near as shifted as Marcus had gotten. Then again -- watching Carmine moan and pull a Drone up into a sloppy kiss -- the kid seemed to be doing fine on his own. There was a splash from nearby, and Marcus turned to stare as a humanoid figure pulled themselves out of a nearby pool, _raw Imulsion_ dripping off them, splattering to the ground. Contact with Imulsion was something that killed people dead, like bathing in radioactive waste, but they seemed unharmed. Unharmed, but not -- as the figure drew closer -- unaltered. It was another strange drone, muscle-packed and ashy, insides glowing bright enough to burn through the skin. And this one was naked, letting Marcus see the full extent of the transformation. The light burned through their chest, outlining their ribs, spanned down, flooding out in an unblocked glow across this stomach, fanning in curls over their hips, and between their legs... like the inside of their mouth, the drone's half-hard cock was a glowing fluorescent yellow, glow brighter and brighter up the tip as his skin thinned. It looked like a fucking glow-in-the-dark dildo, just, one monstrously huge and bloated. The Imulsion dripping off him was _steaming_, chemical vapors whirling around him, and for once Marcus could place the smell: the rank chemical aftertaste of Locust jizz, just turned up a thousandfold. The drone watched Carmine, writhing and squirming as he pushed the first egg from his cock -- halfway there, the egg squished into an oval to push down his cock, and fucking _watermelon_-sized. Then he turned to Marcus -- and he couldn't stop himself from staring down at his cock, fat and heavy, swinging halfway down to his knees, balls gleaming like spotlights behind it -- and spoke, something growling and guttural. Marcus looked up at him, lips pulled back in a snarl or smirk, rows of jagged teeth gleaming back at him. "He says get on your knees," said the other drone, a near-identical expression on his face. Marcus got on his knees. The locust's cock twitched, his immense balls churning and lurching in their sac like a living thing, glowing bulges rolling back and forth, dragging over the tacky Imulsion drying on the drone's inner thigh. His cock twitched, a long string of glowing slime slowly dripping from the tip, though Marcus had no clue if it was just more imulsion or if it was fresh pre. Or if there was even a difference. The drone's cock twitched again, ticking upward in tiny motions, dragging its way up from between his thighs until it was pointing straight at Marcus' face, still drawn down by its own weight. The drone's hide creaked like fresh leather as his weight shifted, tree-trunk pillar legs bunching and shifting as he stepped forward, smashing his cock against Marcus' jaw with the force of a punch. Imulsion spattered across his skin and _burned_, sizzling and soaking into his flesh. Maybe it was just the months of transformation already, but Marcus swore he could feel it as it soaked into his skin, a florid heat that spread to his core, Imulsion wicking away or just being absorbed by his hungry skin. The lambent drone said something else, barking down at Marcus, and the other drone translated: "open up." The drone's cockhead was digging against the corner of his mouth, flesh rock-hard, leathery and rough even on his cockhead, and the instant Marcus' lips parted it jerked forward, dragging over his flushed lips and pushing past his teeth. The taste was the rancid reek of Locust cock, a hundred times as potent. Acrid and unmistakably chemical, stinging over his split lips, burning down his abused throat. Marcus groaned, opening wider to messily slurp down the bloated shaft, lips smearing with half-dried Imulsion, burning feverishly hot as it coated his bleeding lip. The lambent drone groaned, sound like grinding rocks, and cupping a hand over the back of Marcus' head, one huge hand easily spanning all around his head, temple to temple. He ground forward, cock crashing against the roof of Marcus' mouth and dragging back again, absolutely flooding his mouth with florescent precome, gushing in heavy enough streams to bulge out his cheeks, strings erupting from his lips and dripping down his chin. Marcus' eyes crossed as he stared down the length of the drone's cock, casting strange light across his hips. Feet to go. Marcus groaned again, sound muffled when he bobbed down on the drone's bloated cockhead, and he grabbed out for the drone's hips, fingers digging in the ashy skin. It _was_ ashy: it crumbled, smearing charcoal-dark over his palms, and where he smeared the burnt skin it peeled away, revealing glossy black skin, supple and strange. The drone groaned, tugging his cockhead from between Marcus' lips, painting his face with streaky lines of imulsion, and then slotted it back into his mouth, driving forward as he started thrusting, hips creaking and shifting as he drove his iron-hard cock straight down Marcus' abused throat. Marcus choked and gagged again, his reflexive inhale sending dizzy heat through his body, the air laced with Locust musk. The lambent drone just drove into him, cock plunging with a ragged squelch down Marcus' throat, effortlessly breaking him open until his nose slammed against the glowing plane of the drone's stomach, swollen balls battering his chin, lips cracked and bleeding around the base of his shaft. Marcus tried to inhale, throat completely plugged, red-black stars bursting in the corners of his vision as the drone started fucking his throat, claws gripping his head tight, hips just snapping forward and back, never pulling from his throat, until Marcus was woozy and on the verge of passing out. He hardly even noticed he could breathe, once he could, sprawled face-down on the rock floor, breath rasping in his ears, wet and squelching. Burning-hot fluid splattered across the back of his neck, and Marcus dimly realized he'd passed out. The lambent drone's thighs shifted around him, dragging along his shoulders as the drone sat back on his heels. His fat balls came to rest on the back of Marcus' head, burning pre slopping down his shaft and soaking into Marcus' cap, sluggishly oozing down his face as Marcus got his breath, wheezing and coughing. His mouth was bitter with Imulsion, aftertaste lingering. He pushed himself up, the drone's balls scraping over the side of his head, followed by his massive shaft, and its rancid chemical scent had him drooling again, spit coming out threaded yellow. The drone cupped his head, tilting him up, dragging his length up and down Marcus' face until it was glossy with slime before shoving it back in his mouth, tip wedged against the roof of his mouth. He let Marcus nurse on it, swallowing mouthfuls of burning imulsion, coughing wetly around the huge pillar, while his hands drifted across Marcus' neck, claws clacking on the bridge of his chestpiece, scraping over its shoulders. The lambent drone -- along with the other one -- groped across his chest, slowly working the seams of his armor open, testing its edges until they finally found its latches, snapping them open so the plate vest sagged open. They pulled Marcus back, cock dragging from his lips with a wet slurp, and tugged the vest over his head. The lambent drone's hands slid down his chest, smearing his sweaty skin with black ash, claws combing through his thigh hair, the rough pad of his thumbs dragging over his nipples until they stiffened, fat and heavy on his chest, and then lower, down his chest to the nubby splotches of his newer nipples, still small and nubby, with hard discs beneath the skin. Marcus groaned at the touch, heat radiating through his chest as his original nipples started leaking, strange fluid pulses racing through his chest as fluid bubbled to the surface, slowly oozing out all across his nipple, smearing shiny over the lambent drone's fingers. If anything that was encouragement; he pinched and tugged harder, Marcus' skin growing slippery as more fluid dribbled from his nipples. The other drone joined in, dropping to his knees behind Marcus, his huge arms wrapping around Marcus' keg-tank waist, hands digging and pulling at his lower sets, hands dragging up and down the sweaty flesh, hair soaked to his skin. He almost told them his lower set didn't work -- not that the milky ichor was what he'd call "working" in any case -- but as the drone kept tugging and pulling at them there was the same flash of heat, boiling back through his stomach, and then wet fluid leaked out, dripping down his second pair and then his third, drawing pale lines down his skin, smearing as the drones started _milking_ him. All six swelled up to fat, thumb-thick nubs, oozing ichor. His cock was aching, pants distended and soaking wet with pre, red slime oozing through the fabric and forming chunky blobs all down the left leg, and for all that the milking was borderline-unpleasant, shocky and sensitive in not the best ways, he found himself groaning and rocking into it, pushing the inflamed bulges of his nipples against the drones' hands, grinding them in low rough circles as they dripping ichor all over, keeping up a slow constant ooze from his nipples as they kept working them over, until the skin all around each one was flushed and red, sore from pinching and twisting. The lambent drone was oozing precome, imulsion drooling onto the cavern floor, soaking into Marcus pants at the knee. Acrid vapors plumed up in visible coils, burning as they hit his bare chest, stinging and making his eyes water when they hit him full in the face. Marcus snorted and inhaled, nose running -- still clogged with imulsion jizz -- and eyes streaming, the imulsion burning hot as it sunk into his flesh. It was like hot pinpricks down his chest, little hot cinders. The change was like everything in the past month folded up and slammed through him in an instant; heat racing over his skin, skin shifting and stretching, heat blooming inside him, spiraling up through strange anatomy, and the more the imulsion soaked into him the faster it went, until he was panting and whimpering, mouth hanging open, skin practically _rippling_. The patchy hide across his thighs thickened, fuzzy and rough at the same time, and his cock was damp with sweat and slime, flesh heated and strange in ways it hadn't been since that first morning. But more immediate was how his nipples were _leaking_, the dark circles of his aerola stretching wider with an almost-visible movement, his actual nipples thickening and stiffening further, trembling and oozing ichor all over their surface. The drones didn't let up their movements, fingers still pinching and twisting at his increasingly-sloppy nipples. The lambent drone shuffled forward, his enormous cock bobbing against Marcus' stomach and then just pressing against him, leaking slime practically against his pecs. He was practically hosing down the drone with his milky ichor, Marcus' chest stained with a messy slurry of fluids -- green-yellow locust jizz, the lambent drone's yellow imulsion slime, his own reddish precome, the yellow-white ichor, all smearing across his hairy chest, mixed with flecks of ashy skin, forming a slurry of grey-brown fluid, iridescent like a gas slick. The drone's fingers churned through the mess, tugging at the stiff, heavy peaks of his nipples, all up and down his chest, big as the first joint of Marcus' thumb, and soft and squishy, _stretchy_ in the way he'd learned all locust hide was. They grabbed down and pulled, stretching until his pecs -- or stomach -- was just a sharp cone, dragged out from the vividly red flesh of his nipples, and then they twisted, sharp and hard until Marcus was whimpering. He was rocking his hips forward, cock trapped painfully tight in his pants, spines lashed together in a solid block. He groaned and kept rutting against the lambent drone, just barely grinding the trapped block of his cock against the drone's thigh, each time just the slight touch against another living body making it erupt with fresh slime, practically spraying through the fabric at his knee. The drone finally growled, abandoning Marcus' tortured nipples to scrape roughly down Marcus' chest, knocking his own cock to the side to reach the waist of Marcus' pants. Rather than unzip them he just clawed straight through, claws digging into the soaking and frayed fabric and ripping it into pieces, leaving shallow bloody marks over the outside of Marcus' thigh. The sudden rush of _openness_, cock barely moving, skewing out but held immobile by its own massive weight, was incredible. The strange wind of the cavern blew over his soaking cock, imulsion vapors curling along his length, the sweat and slime trapped along his shaft making the hot breeze feel shiveringly cool over his aching organ. The lambent drone touched it and it just _unfurled_. The furrows of his spines had grown deeper and deeper, reaching further and further down his shaft, and now the raw imulsion had sped the process up, deep groves all the way down to the hairy base of his cock, and when his tentacles bowed back they separated all the way to the base, some thin vestigial skin tearing painlessly between them as they separated, turning his cock into some oozing flower, each section of his cock a huge fat petal, the sides bulging out into heavy ovals when they weren't pressed hard against each other. Marcus slumped back against the chest of the drone behind him and _groaned_, chest rumbling low as his cock drooled slime, oozing out from the ringed opening at the base of his cock, slopping over his lower tendrils. The drones reached for him, hands burning hot, friction-hot even with the slime slopping over his flesh, each claw like a burning brand as they slid back and forth over the sloppy fronds of his cock, slowly circling closer and closer to the core. Marcus was expecting their fingers; he wasn't expecting the lambent drone to lean forward, cock slamming down right down the center of his cock, balls grinding against his opening, oozing cockhead rutting against the inner flesh of his tentacles. Still, once it _happened_ all he did was groan, knees spreading wider as the drone dragged his cock through the mess of slime coating his petals, cockhead pressed against the clenching opening at the very base of his cock for a fractional moment before he stuffed the whole oozing, bloated thing inside him in a single thrust. Marcus wailed, bizarre pleasure radiating up through his body. It was the overwhelming too-deep feeling when [baird??] had fucked his cock with his new locust dick, but sure-as-fuck even deeper now, and constantly, unendingly, as the drone fucked him, bright orange slime slopping out around his shaft, pure imulsion burning and stinging high up in the who-the-fuck-knew anatomy he was sporting, in great sloppy gushes as the lambent drone hilted himself in punishing thrusts, slime spraying out in all directions each time his hips crashed against Marcus', his bloated balls crashing against Marcus' unfurled tentacles, making Marcus' own balls churn between his legs, lurching and dragging upwards. The drone behind him, not to be left out, scoured his rough hands down Marcus' sweaty back, over the slope of his heavy ass cheeks, and his fingers found Marcus' twitching pucker, shiny with sweat. The drone lurched forward, chest pressing against Marcus' back as his cock suddenly splattered down across his back, dripping and drooling over his soaking skin as he thrust for his asshole, cock skewing down between his thighs before he slotted it right between his cheeks, asshole just flexing open for the bloated, enormous shaft. It didn't even _hurt_, flesh just distending, when a month ago he would've been so tight they'd both be bleeding. He was still _tight_, ass muscles if anything even stronger, clenching and gripping around the drone's monstrous cock, but he flexed them open, let both drones bottom out inside him, gushing strange pre inside him as they rutted and roared, using his body as a toy between them. Marcus' tendrils spread outward, reaching around the lambent drone's hips, and Marcus swore he could _taste_ the drone's skin, rough charcoal, flaking as his slimy tentacles gripped the drone's hips tighter, pulling the burnt skin away in peeling layers, like the worst sunburn imaginable. Charcoal streaked over his spread cock, blocking out the -- taste -- of it for a moment. His tentacles gripped tighter around the drone's hips, driving him deeper when he thrust into Marcus, other splaying in a fan over his chest, pulsing in response to the burning Imulsion heat radiating out from his glowing chest. Two slid between the drone's thighs, squirming in some new way between the corded muscles, sliding slimy and wet over the drone's heavy balls, bloated and enormous. Marcus spread his legs further, cock completely unfurled, opened into an aching, hungry hole. Each slam of the drone's enormous cock squirted thick slime out over the inner surface of his tentacles, crackling and slopping, dragging out into immense webs of goo dripping all across his spanned tentacles, dripping down the chiseled, inhuman muscles of the drone's chest. Marcus groaned, his tentacle-tips digging into the drone's flesh, and the drone roared in response, cock spitting a gush of Imulsion pre deep inside him, turning the red slime orange as it squirted out around his churning cock, more and more flooding out with each squelching thrust. Not to be left out, the drone behind him slammed deep into his ass with his own cock, smaller and somehow less monstrous, but still pummeling his inner flesh until he ached. Marcus groaned, settling his weight between them, spread cock drooling slime, asshole gaping, letting the two huge Locust saw back and forth. Their cockheads slammed against who-knew structures inside him, sending jarring pleasure/pain sensations burning up through his guts, some new dizzying sensation sweeping through him that had him howling and weeping, bizarre inner sphincters and passages clenching and opening against their brutal passage. Each bone-jarring thrust twisted the heat inside him higher. Even when he came, sobbing, asshole clenching, balls churning, red slime exploding from his spread cock like he was a _squirter_, slopping all over the front of the lambent drone, coating him in a layer of steaming red-orange slime to match the gummy Imulsion smeared over him -- even after that, in the dizzying afterglow, their jolting thrusts kept hitting him _somewhere_, the sensation rushing through him, completely unlike anything he'd ever felt before. The drones fucked him for what felt like hours; his entire conscious contracted to the heavy impact of their bodies slamming against his, their oozing cocks bashing deep inside him, over and over. The drone behind him came first, roaring, his cock erupting with a huge flood of come, boiling inside him as it gurgled up through his guts. The lambent drone wasn't far behind, teeth bared in a monstrous grin as he slammed into Marcus' abused vent, the flush all surrounding his hole flushed blood-red and thickly swollen. He hilted himself, balls churning over Marcus' lower tentacles, and emptied his load in sloppy gushes, burning Imumsion come outlining all the new strange twists and turns of his guts, flooding in burning coils higher and higher in his stomach, even as his aching hole gaped open around the drone's shaft. A near-solid gummy mass of vividly orange slime bubbled out from his well-fucked hole. Marcus panted for breath, wet and heavy like he was sobbing, and his cock clenched as he came again, pumping out more bizarre slime in almost-painful gushes. Even sweaty and exhausted, sweating constantly, skin streaked with a half-dozen kinds of freakish alien slime, there was a hot, needy tension deep inside him. The drones pulled out, leaving him to collapse on the cavern floor, boneless and practically unconscious. His tentacles were slack from the heat, bases so swollen they couldn't fit back together even if he tried. The heat inside him pulsed hotter and hotter, almost painful in its intensity, roaring through him. He groaned, reaching for his gaping hole, smearing his hand between two fist-thick slabs of _meat_ unfurling at the base of his spread cock. His hand slid inside him with no issue, smearing through the messy flood of slime oozing out of him, and he tried to dig deeper, wrist catching against the thick lip of his hole. The return of the lambent drone was an almost orgasmic relief, hot pleasure shooting through his body just from the drone slamming down onto his knees, his huge hands rubbing up Marcus' hairy thighs, absolutely coated with slime. It gushed between the drone's fingers, squelching under his palms as he reached up, and then he knocked Marcus' hand aside as he plunged both hands into the gaping hole between his thighs. Marcus _howled_, hips rutting up, and the drone implacably sunk inside him, flaking-charcoal arms pushing inside him almost up to the elbow. His abused flesh stretched wide. Slabs of swollen flesh pulled apart, opening some channel deep inside him, and the drone dug into him, hands gliding over bruised inner surfaces, down inside him until he hit the center of the tight ache. Marcus sobbed, arm thrown over his eyes, groaning as the solid pressure of the drone's hands hit _something_, hitting the tight, gnarled knot of tension inside him and coaxing it into pulsing, clenches rocking through his entire body as it flexed and flexed. Muscles deep inside him, muscles he didn't even know he had -- and probably didn't have until a few weeks ago -- rippled and pumped, and against the drone's flaking hands he felt the muscle drop, its own weight dragging some heavy tube of meat lower down, the crown still cupped in the drone's hands. His body was lurching and churning, spasms rippling up through his body. He realized just _what_ it was doing the second before the first spasm really hit, the pressure turning hot in his gut. His eggs pushed up against the lip of his cervix, squeezing through the tight tube with each contraction. The drone's fingers worked up inside the tight hole, spreading his cervix with a bizarre pang of sensation; a shock of pain followed, finally, by the tension inside him releasing, spreading wide. His cervix practically flowered open, and his eggs -- _his_ eggs, ones his body'd put together -- gushed out, in webbed clusters. The drone spread him wider, hands and forearms pressing against his sides and pulling, until his flesh spread with a lewd squelch, open air all the way from his spasming cervix down to the base of his unfurled cock. The drone dove down, mouth open, smearing his face all through the mess of slime. Marcus' eggs squelched deeper, smashing against the drone's face. They were small compared to Myrrah's -- actually _egg_ sized, small round things -- but they were coagulated together into blobby, uneven clusters, though not too solidly -- he squeezed another bunch out, the slime connecting them together smearing and snapping, leaving him just pushing out a wet wave of eggs, suspended in thick slime. The drone _groaned_, a low, bone-rattling noise, mouth open and hungry as he pressed it over the unfurled ring of Marcus' cock. The slurry of eggs burst across his face, catching over Marcus' aching ring and dragging over the Locust's lips before squelching into his mouth. Marcus groaned, arching into it, grinding his spread vent across the drone's face. Huge slabs of half-prolapsed flesh caught on his teeth, heavy lines of pressure digging into his bloated flesh. His tentacles whipped to life, curling up over the drone's head, overlapping raggedly over the back of his head. They slammed his face against Marcus' gaping hole, cheeks grinding over his forearms, still wedged inside, slime bubbling up all across the uneven seal around his vent. His flesh spread, half-covering the drone's face, smearing soggy and soft over the hard bone of his skull. The drone's breath was hot, billowing up inside him, uneven between swallows. The jog of the drone's Adam's apple rippled over his tentacles, sending them sliding minutely back and forth over his face. Marcus groaned, another bizarre contraction hitting. His cervix spread wider, and he just started to drool out huge collections of eggs, each pump sending the slurry washing downward, slopping into the drone's mouth just as fast as he could swallow, over and over again until he choked, cheeks bulging out, packed with eggs. Marcus tentacles slipped, and the drone jerked back, coughing and hacking, eggs drooling from his mouth with slimy slaps as they hit the ground beneath them, bursting or squished beneath their bodies. The next gush of eggs poured sluggishly down Marcus' tentacles, weaker now that the drone wasn't practically sucking them out. By this time the _other_ drones had noticed something was up; Marcus glanced over at Carmine to see him flushed and sweaty, still pushing immense eggs from his half-formed vent, blobby fetus shapes curled up inside the gummy shell. Yeah, no shit they'd never seen Locust reproduction before, if this shit was what it looked like. Another drone knelt in front of him, his heavy tongue dragging up the inside of one of Marcus' tentacles as he pressed his face against his spread vent, and soon there was a second drone, and then the first one pushed back into the fray, three drones piled on top of each other, eagerly swallowing down thick slime and egg clusters as Marcus kept pumping them out, again and again, tongue and teeth catching over his swollen flesh, their lips spread wide to fit shattered clusters of eggs. Sharp teeth dragged over the painfully sensitive flesh of his gaping vent and Marcus howled, grinding his vent back and forth over the drone's sloppy mouths, the spark of a more standard orgasm growing in him, burning as the drones ate him out. The eventual hollow sucking, like there was just nothing left to pump out -- that was familiar, at least, from when he'd pumped Myrrah's eggs into Carmine. Red slime burbled from his vent, smearing over their faces, but his contractions had stopped, the ache in his womb gone, leaving behind just a strange hollow feeling. Marcus slumped back, utterly exhausted, leaving his bloated vent and swollen tentacles to lie limp between his legs, hanging down to mid-calf. There were a handful of eggs still stuck to them, little bubbles practically lost in the thick cords of slime coating his body. Footsteps surprised him, and he half-awake from his exhausted stupor, eyes cracking open to see the lambent drone -- the _first_ one, the one who'd come up to the higher cavern -- approach him. He was still wearing pants, heavy-duty work pants, too-large even on his monstrously huge frame, and from looking at his crotch -- yeah, Marcus could see why. His cock was impossible to ignore, his crotch bulging tight, except that must've been his _balls_; his actual cock was a practically thigh-thick bulge all the way down his pant leg, practically to the _ankle_. No shit he was wearing pants, that thing must've been a walking hazard. The drone's hand pressed against his ankle, scraping through the mire of slurried fluids and scraping upwards, prickling all his hairs up backwards as he reached higher and higher along Marcus' legs. His fingers darted out, picking eggs from the slime -- popping the first one into his mouth and swallowing, but letting the others pool in his palm, stuck together with half-coagulated slime. The drone pulled Marcus closer, grinding the huge span of his hips against Marcus' vent, his tentacles just dragging and smearing between them. Through the leg of his pants, the drone's cock twitched, slithering like it was a snake. The Imulsion reek in the air got even worse, thick sludge oozing straight through the drone's pants, up and down the whole length of his shaft, like the entire thing was just oozing it. Yeah, no shit Marcus wanted to see what was in his pants. The drone rocked his loose fist against Marcus' gaping vent, fingers curled around a half-dozen loose eggs. He was spread so sloppily open there wasn't even the slightest catch when he pushed inside, just spreading Marcus' bloated, swollen flesh like pushing aside a curtain. His other hand scraped over Marcus' thigh, back and forth like a caress, staining his skin a charcoal black as the char scraped off, revealing the iridescent black hide beneath. His cervix was still dropped, thick neck plugged right up against his hips, and the drone bashed his hand against it, knuckles working sloppily back and forth against the opening. It didn't take much to spread it open. There was _wreckage_ stuck in it, shattered eggs and blobby, formless sludge, and the drone just pushed it all right back, his fist punching through into Marcus' womb. It was still full of sludge, blood and thick red slime, crusted egg grime, and the walls stretched around the drone's fist easy -- up until a few minutes ago, they'd been storing a lot more than that. His arm wasn't even elbow deep, grinding against his unfurled vent. Marcus clenched, the bloated tube of his cervix clamping down on the drone's wrist and forearm -- every little vein and spar of charcoal outlined as he squeezed. Tendons shifted; the drone opened his fist, planting Marcus' eggs right back inside him. He dragged his hand back out of Marcus' channel, flakes of char smearing into gritty dirt against his inner walls, until his fist -- slimed to the elbow, fist dripping thick fluid -- popped out with a lewd squelch. Then the drone took off his pants. Marcus didn't even notice at first; he was fucking _exhausted_ from the earlier fucks, from squeezing out a whole clutch of freakish locust eggs. Head flat on the ground, he couldn't even see much of the drone over the swell of his inflated pecs, just from halfway up his stomach. There was a slide of heavy fabric, then bare locust-hide dragging up his thighs, and then something _hot_ smacked across his strewn tentacles. Steam was billowing up in front of the drone, glowing droplets condensing across his hide, adding new lights to the bizarre glow in the center of his chest. Something slick and hot slithered up between Marcus' legs, draping in heavy, oozing coils over his stomach. Marcus sat up to get a look. It was -- yeah, he could definitely see why the drone wore pants. It would've been dumb to say it didn't look human, since the locust weren't, but the other drones had dicks that were at least a _little_ like humans. Then again, given what Marcus had between his legs now, it really wasn't safe to figure that went for all the locust. It was iridescent black that faded to a burning Imulsion yellow, and prehensile, and covered in swollen pustules -- the glow spread down the drone's stomach, and across his dick the glowing parts surfaced; just blobby pustules, flesh stretched near-transparent over fat clusters of Imulsion. And there were rings, puckered up -- like the suckers on a tentacle, or like mouths, and they opened at the center, dripping -- drooling -- yellow slime, up and down all along the huge length. It draped across Marcus' chest, an absurdly long length, and it coiled over him, twining around his own tentacles, all in time to the drone's grunting gasps, eyes closed, hands clenching the loose muscles of Marcus' thighs. Whatever the hell it was doing, it sure as hell looked good for the _drone_. The flesh near the base was wrinkled and heavy, in thick, flabby slabs that jiggled as his dick smeared up and down Marcus' tentacles. Before Marcus' eyes, though, he saw it _inflate_, blood or Imulsion or whatever-the-fuck slowly pulsing into the shaft, swelling it further, until it was a fucking pylon, thicker than the drone's legs at the base, and only slowly tapering to the burning-hot spearhead tip, squirming in coils along Marcus' slack tentacles. "Gonna shove that in me?" Marcus' voice was a ragged growl, just as hungry and guttural as any Locust. He scraped a hand over his stubbled cheek, thick fingers tugging at the fringe of hair under his mouth, tugging his lower lip to the side. The drone's eyes flicked up to his mouth, and his cock did too. It slithered up his inclinded chest, between the mountains of his pecs, folding over itself in the hollow of his neck before the spearhead tip shoved itself between his lips. It spat Imulsion, what had to be boiling hot, into his mouth, and Marcus just swallowed. His body had better things to do than burn, though it still left sizzling, pale tracks over his chin, skin raising up in thick pads as it soaked into him. He could fucking _feel_ it soak through him, Imulsion just wicking straight through skin, flesh, muscle, sinking down into his core. Marcus' tentacles twitched, dragging themselves up. They were wrecked, smeared in a slurry of fluids, coated in char and dust, and so bloated their edges barely fit together. _Those_ got the drone's attention too; his cock let out another squirt of Imulsion that left Marcus spluttering, cheeks bulging, and popped from his mouth, squirming back down his chest to wrap around his reforming cock. The bloated tentacles made a split cock, seams deep cracks all the way through his cock, but they half-reformed, segment after segment pulling itself up until his cock rivaled the drone's, almost as big an equally bizarre in a completely different fashion. The locust grinned down at him, flashing two rows of teeth, Imulsion drool freely flowing over his lips as he stared down at Marcus' cock. He said something in locust-speech, guttural and eager, and his cock twined up along Marcus', the spear-point tip just slopping between the spines of his cockhead and instantly squirming right down his cockslit. Marcus' "Fuck!" turned heads, even Carmine -- red-faced and exhasted, basically just squirting out the last of his eggs now -- looking over as the lambent drone pumped boiling Imulsion straight down his cock.
[todo: kid is now ben carmine & this isn't even the first time marcus has fucked him w/ his huge monster cock] "You're a legend," he kid said, stars practically in his eyes. "Fuck, it'd be an honor." Marcus snorted. The idealism of the young. "You might change your mind when you see what I'm packing," he said, already unclasping his armor, letting it hang loose around his hips and he fished out the absurd squirming length of his transformed cock. The kid's eyes got really big and his jaw dropped. He had a nice mouth. His cock pumped, a long drizzle of juice drooling from the flexing mouth of his cock, splattering all across the floor in the thin space between them. "I could... I could try to take it," the kid said, a flush going up to his ears. Marcus' cock twitched, stiffening in his hands until the tip split apart, red hooks twisting as they reached for the kid's face. Marcus pulled back, his cock -- ovipositor -- dripping slime across the man's face. Already he could feel another egg crown through the base of his dick, the fat gel squeezing through his distended urethra. The kid opened wide and _sucked_, the fat egg popping from Marcus' cock in a popping gush that left him dazed. The kid swallowed, red-faced and sweating as he tried to fit the egg down his throat. Marcus held his neck, thumbs dragging down the bulging, straining column of his neck, helping him swallow. There was a soggy gulp as it finally popped down into his stomach. The kid sucked in a breath, eyes and nose watering, mouth thick with red slime. "I-I'm, uh," he said, looking down, breathing hard. "I'm ready for another egg, sir." [...] "There is a gravid Queen on the floor," Myrrah said, with a wave of her hand. "Serve him as you would me, as an _honor_ to the new race." Skorge snarled and shook Myrrah's hand off his shoulder, stalking towards Marcus with what seemed a deadly intent. But just before he would bodily crash into him, he dropped to his knees, glowing yellow eyes gleaming up at him as he opened his mouth. And what a mouth -- a nest of ragged, sharp fangs, and as Skorge opened wider Marcus could clearly see a second row deeper inside. He was more than a little worried Skorge would just bite his dick off, but the insistent pressure of the egg inside him wouldn't be denied. Reddish slime poured across Skorge's face as Marcus gingerly slid his dick into place, the fishhook petals at the tip unfolding into Skorge's slavering mouth, his teeth just dull points of pressure across the thick, bloated skin. The egg erupted from his cockhead straight into the back of his mouth, and Skorge handled it far better than Marcus or the nameless COG lying on the floor, swallowing the egg down with ease. Marcus groaned, cock throbbing, and another egg pushed through from inside him, crowning instantly. Skorge swallowed it too, his throat squeezing down hard on the tip of Marcus' cock. He couldn't count how many eggs he fed Skorge, constantly on the brink of orgasm, reddish egg fluid and precome in equal mixture dribbling from the edges of Skorge's mouth as Marcus pumped the rest of his eggs straight down into his stomach, each one lessening the heavy weight inside him fractionally. He ran out, finally, some interior muscle pumping and flexing and just coming up with more thick goo, all his eggs finally laid. Skorge realized too, looking up at him with those burning yellow eyes, and for the first time his mouth moved around his dick, tongue pushing the folds of his cock from his mouth until Marcus' dick popped out, fishhook petals hanging loose, the channel of his dick gaping loose and wide. Below him, Skorge... Skorge was tall and thin, as Locust went, though that still meant his chest was almost half again as wide as Marcus'. But now he was _hugely_ pregnant, his stomach swollen so large Marcus was amazed he hadn't burst. And if that was just from eggs, who knew what he'd look like several months on. "Well done, my servant," Myrrah said, walking up to them, her cunt flushed and dripping -- Marcus hadn't even noticed her, so intent on the sensation of his eggs pushing into Skorge's mouth. "Fertilize them as you see fit," she said, and then with a twist of her lips, "and as a reward, breed the other clutch." She gestured over to the COG lying on the ground, his stomach swollen with Marcus' eggs. Skorge growled, a smirk playing over his lips as he got to his feet -- slowly, a hand braced against his swollen stomach -- and abruptly, Marcus could see Skorge's own cock, pinned along the underside of his stomach, and hugely, massively erect. His cockhead was flared, spines jutting out almost perpendicularly from his shaft, goo webbed all between them and forming long drooping arcs, and Marcus was painfully, achingly envious of the nameless COG on the floor.
[ baird and cole fuck marcus again, this time actually knowing who he is + he's got a locust dick. cole is like "yeah when ALPHA SQUAD got captured by the locust they were trying to figure out how to fuck humans, GUESS THEY FIGURED IT OUT". anyway they both fuck marcus and then probably dp him ] "Fenix?! Holy shit!" Baird yelped, staring down at Marcus sprawled across the bed. "What the fuck did they do to you?!" Cole was a bit more restrained. He whistled, surprised. "Holy shit, I guess the Locust did it, huh?" He reached forward, trailed his fingers over Marcus' ass cheek, down to his grotesquely-swollen taint, balls like wrecking balls below. "You remember Alpha squad, right?" he said to Baird, idly running his fingers back and forth between Marcus' ass and balls. "They were trying to, like -- figure out how to fuck humans. They injected Rojas with that stuff that made him, just, horny all the time." "Yeah, but..." Baird seemed dazed, unable to look away from Marcus. "Holy shit, look at his _cock_, man." Cole snorted, reached forward to try and fail to wrap one hand around the base of Marcus' cock. It was the size of his _thigh_, maybe even bigger. Close to being like an actual third leg. "Big, huh?" "That's not what I was fucking talking about, fuck off." Marcus groaned and rolled forward onto his belly, ass hiking up in the air. Cole kept tugging on his cock, the huge thing pulsing under his hand, starting to pump, pre erupting in massive soggy bursts nearly at Marcus' chin. "You there with us, boss?" Cole said, smacking Marcus' cheek with his other hand. "How you feeling?" Marcus groaned, breathing hard, body covered in hot sweat. "Gotta -- you two gotta fuck me. Need it so bad." Cole laughed; Baird gave a shocked little laugh. "Don't worry about it, baby," Cole said, rubbing his hand down the cleft of Marcus' ass, his hole like a hot mouth pressing kisses against his knuckles. "I'll take good care of you." Baird snorted. "You're not seriously gonna fuck our CO," Baird said. "When he's all-- I don't know what the fuck, high on Locust juice." Cole rubbed over Marcus' asshole, back and forth, and the muscle practically pouted open, gaping in anticipation. "Wouldn't be the first time. And he needs it, man, look at him:" and he slid a finger into Marcus' ass; Marcus shuddered, groaning, rutting back against Cole's hand hard. "You fucked Marcus before?!" Baird squawked, looking back and forth between them. His eyes narrowed. "When was this, 'cause if--" "Y'dont recognize him?" Cole asked. He drove two fingers into Marcus' ass, steadily finger-fucking him as they talked, thumb dragging back and forth over his hairy ass, ring of his asshole huge and glistening. "I'd recognize this ass anywhere, fuck, it was the hottest ass I'd ever gotten in the stalls." "Wait," Baird yelped, staring down as Marcus, writhing on the bed, sheets already soaked pink from his gushing slime. "That was him?!" "You really ain't that observant are you, precious?" Cole said, shoving his ring and then his pinky fingers into Marcus' hole. His ass squelched, red slime oozing out around his fingers as he pushed harder, slowly easing the crest of his knuckles into Marcus' hole. "Fuck, look at that, that's him all right. Tight as hell, but you can stretch him to take just about anything." Cole pulled back, hand coated in reddish slime, and tucked his thumb up against the rest of his fingers, smearing them together to coat them all in red slime. He pushed forward, easing them all inside -- Marcus' asshole a huge ring of flesh, clenching down _hard_ when it spasmed, like an enormous rubber band spanning from his knuckles nearly to his wrist as he eased his fist inside. Cole shoved his fist in all the way, hand in the depths of Marcus' ass, hole sucking on his wrist. Marcus groaned, shoving himself backwards and swallowing up Cole's arm, hungry asshole gaping as he rammed himself down nearly to the elbow. Cole laughed, flexing his wrist, knocking his hand around deep in Marcus' ass, the swell of his forearm stretching Marcus' ass. "Take a look at that, huh." Cole drew back, slid forward, bashing his fist none-too-gently against the wall of Marcus' ass; Marcus shuddered around him, internal muscles wrapped tight around Cole's embedded arm, rim spread grotesquely around his huge, bulky forearm. Baird shoved a finger up his ass, none too gently. "He's all slick. Like somebody lubed him up already." He worked his finger back and forth, adding in two and then three, hand shoved deep between Marcus' hairy, muscled cheeks. "C'mon, go harder. He wants it." Cole pressed right up against Baird, watching eagerly as he fed his fingers into Marcus' ass. "You ever done that? Shoved your whole hand up inside somebody? It feels fucking great. Having them wrapped up all around you, like you're fucking wearing them, fuck." "You're a fucking nutcase, man," Baird said, but stiffly, not looking away from Marcus' ass, from his fingers stretching him out. "Or you could just fuck him, I guess." Cole groped his cock through his slacks, soaking the fabric as he dragged his sopping hand up around his fat bulge and clenched. Marcus kissed in a frenzy, whining and grunting. Cole steadied his head with his hands, teeth nipping at Marcus' lower lip, making him open wider, moaning into his mouth. "Guess they figured it out." Cole's hand was cool on Marcus' dick, soothing a little of the burning heat. Marcus just groaned at the touch, jerking forward and sending his cock cannonading across Cole's bare chest, splattering him with syrupy slime. "Man, you take the front, I don't wanna see that shit." Baird was behind him, looking over Marcus' shoulders, looking disgusted as he stared down at the mess Marcus was making. "Looks like he's bleeding from his dick, almost." Cole's fingers dug into his spongy cockhead, swiping up a thick smear of red syrup, taking an experimental taste. "Tastes fine," he said, laughing at Baird's exaggerated noise of disgust. "Just fuck him, Christ." Baird shoved his fingers into Marcus' ass, slick and open, and Marcus buried his head against Cole's shoulder, groaning as he fucked himself on Baird's fingers. His cockhead was brutally fat pressing against his hole, stretching him wide. Marcus groaned again, shifting his weight back and swallowing the whole thing down to the root, Baird's fuzzy pubes scratchy across his ass. He turned his head, dragging his lips over Baird's cheek, but he jerked back -- "Fuckin' kiss _Cole_ if you want to make out, hell," and Cole was happy to oblige, tipping his head back and kissing him deep, biting on his lip and letting Marcus suck on his tongue. Cole's cock throbbed against Marcus' belly, tiny compared to his own monster, but still fat and heavy. Cole rolled his hips forward, cockhead inching up his stomach, digging into the underside of Marcus' pecs. He pulled away from the kiss: "Think you can fit another one up there?" and Marcus just sunk forward, wrapping a hand around Cole's fat cock and pulling the sledgehammer-tip back behind his balls, pressing against Baird's thrusting shaft. He notched it against his hole, fluttering against the dome of his cockhead, and slowly pushed himself down, skin sweaty, hole spreading and just as quickly clenching again as he tried to take both of them. "Oh, yeahhhhh," Baird groaned, reaching down to pump both their cocks. "Been a while since we got a slut so loose we could try this." "Don't be rude," Cole said, even as he jabbed forward, sinking his cockhead into Marcus' scorching insides, the walls of his ass suckling on his fat cockhead. "Uungh, fuck yeah!" He jerked forward again, slamming half his cock into Marcus' gaping hole, drawing fractionally back only to sink the rest of it in. Baird jerked forward too, trying to thrust all the way in, sinking most of it -- Cole's fist-sized balls jamming against Baird's, just too big to let them both sheath their cocks in Marcus' ass at the same time. Marcus' asshole slurped with each thrust, pre and slime drooling down their shafts, the ring of his asshole stretched into a gaping oval, gurgling each time one of them slammed in to the base. They knocked against something inside him, and he grunted and shoved himself down, frantically fucking himself on their cocks. Cole's cock slurped out, smeared with his and Baird's loads, all shiny with the red-jelly slime Marcus seemed to be oozing from practically every orifice. Marcus whined sadly, hole clenching on nothing, a burble of come spilling out of him. "More," Marcus found himself panting, fingers scraping across his hairy ass and shoving globs of come back inside him. "Need more." Cole pressed against him, solid and sturdy. "Don't worry babe," he said. "We got you. This help?" and his fingers spread across Marcus', sliding around the bruised rim of his hole, just sinking his hand right back into Marcus' ass. The pressure hit something inside him, weight and volume. Not as good as a cock, but something that made his body slump down, ass spreading itself open. "Yeah," Marcus said, dazed as Cole started working his fist back and forth, driving it deeper. He was dimly aware of tears streaking down his face: eyes watering. Like fucking _allergies_ only it only happened when he had a fist in his ass. He sobbed into the sheets, wailing when Cole twisted his fist just right. "Harder!" he begged, legs spread around Cole's chest, heels digging into his back, trying to pull him closer. Cole solidly punched forward, arm slamming into him to the elbow, and Marcus keened, body convulsing, cock spraying a mess of red slime all over. Cole kept going, ramming his fist deep into his guts, and Marcus came again, and again, sobbing and panting, ass slurping lewdly around Cole's pistoning arm.
[ DELTA SQUAD or maybe just marcus + baird & cole are in some underground installation, a little concrete shed in the middle of a big cave. marcus is in heat by this point and there are locust approaching and baird's like, might as well chuck marcus out there. this ends w/ baird + cole + some drones all fucking marcus in every possible hole, and then cole and baird getting fucked too ] "We could just toss him out there; he's pretty out of it." Baird looked over at Marcus, panting on the ground, fingers ramming up his ass, apparently oblivious to the rest of the world. He was leaking like mad, red slime drooling from his cock, weird off-white ichor dribbling from his swollen nipples, just making a big mess. The whole bunker smelled like it, the stench of fucking mixed with the grimy reek of Locust. "Man, we can't do that." Baird shrugged. "It's not like they're gonna kill him. He wants to get fucked; they wanna fuck him; everybody's happy." He paused, looking over and Marcus and back, the tent in his slacks obvious. "Plus, honestly, I been wondering what what shit even looks like. You ever seen a Locust dick? I'm kinda curious." "You were the one wall, oh, we can't fuck him, he's our CO!; now you wanna just chuck him out to get gangbanged by Locust?" "Oh please, like that even matters. You'd be my CO if you took any of those goddamn promotions they keep throwing at you. We're all just bodies down here." "Man, if you wanna get fucked by some drones you don't gotta drag him into it." Baird stammered. "This isn't about _me_!" "Oh yeah? You wanna see a Locust dick so much, wanna see what it's like when somebody gets fucked by one, why don't you step out there and say so." Baird looked for a second like he was considering it. They were both -- It was Marcus' heat. Mostly. Fuck, Cole's dick was practically bruised with the number of times Marcus'd ridden him in the past day or two. The stench of sex was getting to them both. His entire body was tingling, flushed and eager. He didn't know why they were even bothering to get into their gear. And then Marcus groaned particularly loud, fist rammed up his own ass, fingers shoved down his flowering cock. There was another bang on the door. "I'm gonna do it," Baird said, and when he got up Cole didn't stop him. "Oh that's hot," Baird said, still peering from the slat in the door, cock out and resting against the door, slowly leaking a line of pre down the metal. "Look at him just take it, holy shit!" Cole snorted: Baird was all but humping the door, arms braced against the frame, a dark stream of pre drizzling down the metal. One of his hands drifted down, like he was gonna actually touch his dick, but then he groaned -- "oh, fuck, look at him take that Locust dick" -- and his hand slid back, tugging the waist of his pants down, fingers grazing up and down his ass crack, not even aware of the show he was giving to Cole. Baird dug down between his cheeks, eyes still glued to the show outside, groaning as he shoved two fingers up his ass, humping the door and pulling back to shove his fingers deeper, in a paltry imitation of the fucking Marcus was getting outside. Cole stepped up behind him, looking out through the sliver of the slat: Marcus was riding the drones, body barely visible between their bulk, but as they shifted around him Cole could see him spired on three Locust dicks, two in his ass and one shoved into his half-unfurled cock, looking just like so much wet, slimy meat now -- and no wonder Marcus was so cockthirsty, if that was the kind of cock he was expecting. Baird was probably jealous; he had the biggest cock of anyone Cole knew, but next to a Locust he looked tiny: they were all easily half again as big as Baird's, longer and wider. And their balls were grotesque, so huge he could see how lopsided and uneven they were even from the bunker door. Lumpy and uneven, and each one twice the size of Baird's. Baird groaned again, hand jerking back only so he could shove three fingers into him, asshole clenching around his fingers, a fat ring of dusky pink between his spread cheeks. Maybe that wasn't what Baird was thinking about. Cole sunk forward, not much, just enough for the bulge of his cock to press against Baird's asscheeks, and Baird _groaned_, humping back against him without even thinking about it. Cole let out a little huff of a laugh and tugged his pants down, letting his half-hard cock loll out over Baird's hairy ass. He grabbed Baird's hips, properly sliding his cock up and down between his cheeks, and Baird slid his fingers out of his ass, curling them around Cole's cockhead and shoving it straight up his ass with a deep groan. "You're really hungry for it, huh?" Cole said, leaning in to hiss into Baird's ear. He sunk in, Baird's ass clenching and shuddering, and Baird just groaned, eyes still fixed against the slat. Cole gripped Baird's hips tighter and started fucking him with half his cock, grinning as Baird moaned and writhed. "Want them to fuck you, huh?" Cole said, laugh just a pant in Baird's ear. "Wish you got to be in Marcus' place?" "No way," Baird said, weakly squirming out of Cole's hold. Cole laughed again, and jerked forward, sinking another inch of cock into Baird's gripping hole. "That's really what you're saying? You're wishing I got claws," and he dug his fingernails into Baird's hips, "and I got one of those lumpy Locust cocks," and he thrust forward, shallowly fucking Baird with the first few inches of his cock. "A big killer drone busting your ass open." Cole bodyslammed Baird forward, pinning him to the door, and growled deep in his ear, a loud open-mouthed snarl like the Locust did. Baird groaned, humping the door, spearing himself on Cole's cock. "Nah," Baird said, weakly, even as a wash of pre poured down the door, his ass shuddering and clenching around Cole's cock. "That's -- fucked up, man." "Fucked up for sure," Cole said. "But you want it bad." Cole twisted the door lock and shoved it open, Baird jerking back with a shocked grunt before Cole caught him by the collar, pinning his thrashing arms behind his back. Cole marched him out, Baird hobbled by his slacks dropped to his knees, giant cock leading the way, slinging precome left and right with each step. "What the fuck, man!" Baird yelled, squirming in Cole's grip. "They're gonna fucking kill us!" "Oh, yeah, they look real mad," Cole said, looking at the drones -- the ones fucking Marcus were still lost in it, not a goddamn care in the world, but all the rest were looking over at them. "You were pretty happy to just toss Marcus out there for the dogs. You wanna get fucked by a drone; I'm gonna give you a chance." He shoved Baird forward, tottering a few steps with his slacks shoved down to his knees, hobbled, before he toppled forward onto the rocks, bare ass on display, hole flushed and open from taking Cole's cock. "Hey folks," Cole said, and for all his swagger there was a little spark of fear in his gut when the Locust got close, grey-yellow hides bulky with muscle, cocks reaching to their knees. One of them roared, a big drone stripped to the waist, armored leggings sagging down, gargantuan spire of his cock drizzling syrupy precome down the length of his shaft. Cole recognized him; he'd been sitting close, watching Marcus getting fucked, stroking himself slow. Waiting for his turn. He charged, cock jerking up and down with each step on his armored feet against the rock, and hit them like a freight train. Cole hadn't felt a tackle like that since heading off against the Sharks. The drone slammed them to the ground; they went down like a sack of bricks. The drone splayed on top of Baird, cock slapping down against his bare skin, hip to armpit, gushing grey pre all over his skin. "Fuck--" Baird yelped. "Fuck you Cole, you fuckin' traitor!" The Drone growled, humping Baird's side, monster cock hosing him down. Cole groaned and reached out, feeling the Drone's rock-hard abs, fingers digging into the deep clefts of his muscled stomach and chest. The drone looked at him, snarling, but Cole just sat forward and kissed him -- and after the second the drone got with it, hand crushing Cole's face against his, squat lips spreading to bite at his mouth, huffing and panting as he rutted against Baird's side. The drone practically tossed him aside, flinging him back by the grip on his head, before leaning down over Baird, drooling across his shoulder as he lapped and bit his way up his neck. "You were fine watching," Cole said, grinning as Baird cursed, sputtering as the drone kissed him, biting his lips bloody. "Just about to jizz yourself thinking about Locust dick." The drone rolled Baird onto his back, cocks slapping against each other, and holy shit the Locust dicks didn't look any smaller close up, for sure. "You just jealous you don't got the biggest dick in the room?" Baird had a monster cock, biggest thing he'd ever fucking seen before now. Big fat fist-sized nuts, cockhead like a nice juicy orange. Cole'd blown him before, and on his knees in front of Baird his cock had stuck out nearly to his knee, cockhead pressed against the thick slab of his thigh. But the Locust... they sure as hell had some monster dicks. Hell, the drone rutting against Baird wasn't even that big compared to the things hanging between the legs of the drones around him -- it was downright stubby. But stubby on a Locust meant hanging to the knee, and currently: the drone grinding down, muscled hips rolling their cocks against each other, and his cockhead kept slapping against Baird's pecs, driving between their cleft before he pulled back, hosing a fresh spurt of grimy pre all the way to Baird's hairline. "Fuck that's hot," Cole said, reaching between them to tug on their cocks. He squeezed Baird's cockhead, Baird letting out a groan and spewing a fresh gush of pre into Cole's palm. "Man, just face it, the second you saw a Locust dick you wanted to swallow it." The drone rutting over him, inched forward, cockhead bouncing across Baird's pecs, digging under his chin, building up tension until it sprang free, slapping down over Baird's face with a meaty _slap_. "Oh fuck yeah," Cole groaned, tugging his own cock, as Baird sputtered and spat, mouth slobbery with Locust pre, streaking across his face and drooling into his mouth. "Fucking swallow that dick." The drone thrust forward, one hand on Baird's jaw, cockhead dimpling his mouth and then just shoving in, ramming into Baird's mouth as he gurgled around it. "Ohhhhh fuck," Baird groaned as the drone eased into him, cockhead spreading him wide, the final flare of the tip like a cork being shoved inside him, stuck tight. He huffed for breath, hoarse. The cock pulsed, a sudden burst of wet heat spraying into his ass, slurping as the drone pushed forward, the rubbery flesh of his warted shaft starting to slip inside him. The drone lurched, tugging him back so he was resting across the drone's pecs, _way_ closer to a living Locust than he'd ever planned. But, fuck, the cock in his ass -- felt pretty good. Baird groaned again, half-hard cock twitching across his stomach, his cockhead slick with pre as the drone kept sliding deeper, fat crests of warts tugging on his asshole, tight flesh straining more and more until with a sudden clench they pushed inside, knobbled bumps as they ground against the flesh of his ass. "Fair's fair," Cole said, grinning down at him, his fat cock aimed right at his already-occupied hole. "Oh you fucker," Baird groaned, eyelids fluttering as the drone rammed against his prostate, keeping his cock leaking, so on-the-edge each motion was like a miniature orgasm. He reached for his cock, just a slight touch away, but Cole grabbed his wrists. "No way man. Fair's fair, and the only way you're gonna come --" and he pulled Baird's arms up, wrists pressed together, and handed them off to a fucking Locust drone, the fucking traitor. The drone flexed, pinning his wrists to the small of his back with one hand. "-- is if we fuck it out of you." "What, you gonna go cuddle up to some fucking Locust now? Same with him?" Baird jerked his over to Marcus, currently slobbering over two Locust dicks on his knees riding two more. "You seemed pretty cuddly when you were jerking off to them fucking Marcus." Cole's fingers slid back under his balls, tapping against his aching hole, flesh slick and aching, puffy now, Cole's fingertips smearing across the shaft of the drone fucking him. "Seem pretty cuddly now too." "Man, this is why we broke up; you're always so stuck-up." the drone pulled out with a wet _pop_, leaving Baird's hole gaping, and Cole was right there, sliding in to fill the space, cock slamming home into the Baird's guts, loose and sloppy until Baird groaned and clenched. Cole moaned, head pressed against Baird's shoulder, thrusts ragged at first until he started a rhythm, forward and back, steadily pounding Baird's ass. the drone behind him slid into place, enormous cock dragging like a hot brand down his back before the oozing tip dug between his cheeks, muscled ass clenching around the embedded tip, brutally-fat cockhead brushing against his puckered asshole, drooling grimy slime, hot and slick sliding up and down against the knot of twisted muscle, clenching and fluttering as the drone ground forward. Cole groaned, the drone's hands wrapped around his hips, tugging him back onto his cock -- cockhead digging into his hole, slowly tearing into him. He bellowed, hole clenching and spreading, hot pre gushing just-barely into his ass and drooling out around the drone's cockhead, slurping as he shoved more in. Cole panted, hanging limp in the drone's hands, and Baird leered, a dry little laugh, cut off in a groan as the drone fucking him slammed in hard. "Fuck, now you know what it's like, man!" "Ungh, fuck," Cole grunted, low, mouth open, biting on the corner of his lower lip as the drone reamed his ass. He groaned, shoving back, sitting on the whole spire of the drone's fat, grotesque cock until it was rammed all the way to the base, his huge muscular ass cheeks dimpling against the drone's hips, eyes rolling back into his head. "Oh, fuck, it's been a while," he groaned, eyes opening to catch Baird's shocked expression, mouth hanging open. "Always were too delicate for your own good, precious." "Don't call me 'precious', you-- mmph!" Cole shut Baird up with a kiss, hiccuping into a moan when the drone rammed his cockhead against his prostate, the both of them sandwiched between the drones, Baird huffing fast, Cole groaning, sloppily kissing. The drones around them hooted, laughing as they made out, and shoved them forward -- pinned together crotch to shoulder, the drones leering over their shoulders. Their bodies shuddered with each ramming thrust, cocks heavy between them, dripping and gushing as the drones pummeled them, cockhead jerking forward, sliding up the sloppy, slick tunnel made by their clenching abs. Baird was moaning into the kisses, little huffs of "Oh fuck, oh fuck," as the drone rammed into his ass, hole broken and gaping, swallowing up the full length of his gigantic locust cock without a single hitch. His huge cock was twitching against Cole's stomach, each thrust coaxing out a fresh gush of come, and it was only second before Baird was howling, nearly sobbing as he finally blew, cock spurting huge blasts of come between them: smeared between their pinned chests, drooling down the sides of their bodies. He humped Cole's stomach, slick bodies squelching as he unloaded, howling and groaning the whole while, fucking the wet tunnel their pressed-together bodies made. Finally he was spent, sagging forward with a blissful smile on his face, letting out a warbling groan with each thrust, dazed. Cole butted shoulders: "I knew you'd be able to do it, babe." His own cock was still ragingly hard, slathered in Baird's load, his pre slowly mixing with the thick coating covering it. Locust claws dug in to his hips, the drone behind him slamming home, fat shaft filling him up inside, deep in his guts -- Cole groaned, cock twitching and gushing, a hair away from coming as he took the locust's dick, rutting against his ass again and again. He grinned as Baird wobbled down, panting in his afterglow as the drones kept ravaging his ass. Fuck, all Cole needed was a little touch and he would blow, but... not quite there yet. He squirmed and drones let go of his arms so he could do it: shoving Baird down until he was level with Cole's cock, almost ready to pop, shaft slimy with his own load, fat globs of come soaked into his pubes and streaking the shaft. "Come on, man, you can do it--" Cole whispered down, cock flaring and trembling an inch from Baird's lips. His foreskin was peeled back over the head, a fat band of skin under his cockhead, and his slit bulged and flared before he shot out a solid rope of pre, splattering across Baird's cheek and drooling down his face, droplets collecting on his lips and slowly spilling into his open mouth. Just watching it -- Cole's cock twitched again, and this time he shot right across Baird's lips, pre stringing across his open mouth, glossy across his tongue. Baird licked his lips, tongue cleaning up the messy lines of pre, and sunk forward, breath hot and wet against Cole's cockhead for a second before he made contact, plush lips kissing his cockhead, slowly spreading over the fat dome. Cole groaned, a long slow "Yeahhhh," as Baird suckled on his cockhead, tongue lapping the underside, catching each spurt of fresh pre right on his tongue, swallowing making his whole mouth tense around the tip. His tongue pressed against the underside, lips slowly spreading over the ridge until his whole cockhead was nestled in his mouth, tongue cupping the edges, each gush of pre trickling down the back of his throat. Each ramming thrust shoved them together -- Baird rocked forward, lips swallowing the first inch of his shaft, pulled back just in time for the drone to slam heavy across Cole's back, huffing in his ear as he rammed his cock down to the root, Cole rocking forward and ramming his cockhead against the back of Baird's mouth. Baird _sucked_, sloppery slurps coming from his mouth as he swallowed gush after gush of Cole's pre, tongue sliding across the fat ridge of his cockhead. "Yeah, babe," Cole groaned, running his hand through Baird's hair. "Fuck, gonna come," he groaned, tipping his head back as he finally unloaded -- cock pulsing in Baird's mouth, again and again and again, Cole groaning as his cock pumped out his load. Baird gurgled and choked, coughing runny blobs of come down Cole's shaft, dribbling from his nose, and Cole eased back, flared cockhead tugging against the inside of Baird's lips before he pulled free with a wet pop, a flood of come pouring down Baird's chin. He kept coming, unloading across Baird's face, cockhead resting on his outstretched tongue, drooling into his mouth as Cole sprayed across his face, again and again until he looked glazed, come running in streams across his cheeks, drooling down his neck. Baird groaned, still dazed, panting eagerly against Cole's cock as he drenched him in his load. Cole's spurts slowed into a steady drizzle, sliding down the curve of his cockhead and across Baird's tongue, mouth convulsing around his cockhead as Baird swallowed, tongue milking the last of his load. "Payback, huh," Cole said, grunting a little as the drone twisted his fingers, three sawing into his ass with the claw of his pinky shoved right up against Cole's stretched hole. "Think I went overboard with Baird? You shoulda seen him, he was--" and he cut off to grunt sharply, the drone's fingers knocking against his prostate for a fleeting moment. "He was panting for it, fucking himself thinking about Locust dick." He twisted his head, looked back at the drone behind him: huge, like all of them, and with a ludicrously oversized dick, like all of them. Hard between the drone's thighs, inhumanly thick, steadily oozing grey-green precome in finger-thick cords. "Don't fucking blame him. You gonna shove that up my ass too? Wouldn't be the first. I can take it better than fucking _Baird_ at least," and he spat to the side, giving a hoarse laugh. "Baird's such a prissy little bitch, honestly." The drone's fingers rammed right into his prostate again and Cole groaned, went limp, hiked his ass up to give the drone better access. "Gonna just keep fingering me until you drive me fucking nuts, huh?" he said, brow furrowed, mouth open and panting. "Fucking shove it in me, c'mon, your whole goddamn hand!" He jerked back, sudden and hard, one of the drone's claws scoring a burning gash along the outside of his ass cheek. Slowly, methodically, the drone splayed one hand across his hip, claws digging into the meat of his ass to anchor him, and then he shoved forward, four fingers pressed tight together pushing into his ass, slowing as the crest of his knuckles butted against Cole's hole. Cole whined, panting, and the drone's fingers twitched, stilling his thrust backwards before he could make it. Slowly the drone pushed forward, a fraction of an inch at a time, pressure building against his rim until there was a wet _slorp_ as the drone's knuckles sunk into his ass, and then a jerk against the inside of his asshole when the drone pulled back, hole distending outward before it released the drone's hand with a lewd squelch. A gush of slimy come burst out of him, spilling down his balls in a thick waterfall and splattering to the ground below. He was left gaping, wide open, asshole hugely-stretched in a lopsided oval, the half-prolapsed flesh along the underside coated in runnels of come, more slowly drooling out of him, spilling down across his balls and thighs. "C'mon!" Cole bellowed, panting afterwards, sweat trickling down his bare chest. He gasped a few times, shuddering as the drone idly shoved a few fingers back inside him and twisted, rocking the crest of his knuckles back and forth through Cole's ring. "You wanna shove your arm in me, fucking do it, you know I can take it!" The drone snorted. Cole wasn't sure how much was the Locust not knowing {Standard} or how much he was just ignoring the dumb human spouting bullshit, but the drone sure as hell responded this time. His claws dug into Cole's cheek, palm scraping across Cole's sloppy flesh, and then he _slammed_ forward, punching into Cole's ass. Cole yelled, a hoarse cry that left him shuddering and wheezing in the aftermath, hole spasming wildly around the drone's forearm, arm shoved nearly up to his elbow into Cole's wrecked ass. He gasped in a breath, groaning again when the drone pulled back, fist jerking from Cole's ass, still tethered together by thick cords of grimy come, and then slammed forward again, Cole's ass gulping around his wrist. Cole lay there and took it, braced against the rocky ground, sloppy strings of sludge oozing down his thighs, more getting punched out of him with each of the drone's thrusts, craggy knuckles and warted skin lurching back and forth over the aching flesh of his hole until the sensation blurred into a continual buzz. Cole breathed in short sharp gasps, a little whine of pain behind each one, nevertheless still pushing his hips back to meet the drone's motions, vision whiting out when the drone solidly rammed his fingers against Cole's prostate, limp cock spasming, a sloppy line of pre and come oozing out of his dick in a slow pulse, and then again when the drone repeated the motion, milking Cole's prostate until he let out a hoarse sob. The drone grabbed his wrist, smearing the come oozing from Cole's ass up across his hand, up his forearm, smearing back and forth, smacking the knuckles of his other hand against Cole's stretched hole, once, twice, slathering up his arm until it was dripping with viscous, chunky Locust jizz before shoving forward again, a sharp pressure as he punched his hand into Cole's guts and then kept going, easing deeper and deeper until his fist hit the back of his ass, making contact with solid flesh with a _smack_ that made Cole gasp and wheeze. It'd been a while since he'd had a fist in his ass, that was for sure. Thrashball parties got wild; compared to that the Gears were all a bunch of stuck-ups. But it'd been a while, and the drone sure as hell had gone in hot. And -- well, there weren't many people that had hands as big as a Locust's. Cole shuddered, clenching around the drone's wrist, the shift of the fist sending off sparks of sensation across his gut and chest, a dull heat throbbing in his cock, even soft. Claws dug as pinprick pains around the rim of his ass, stretched grotesquely around the drone's forearm, flesh pink-white right around the taut rim, quickly fading into a rich ruddy red, flush visible all across his ass as a purpling of his dark skin. Nails scraped against the drone's forearm, flat and smooth working at the rim of his ass, and Cole groaned, even the minute stretch of another finger testing his limits, tugging all along his rim. The drone pulled back, sloppy chunks of come spilling from his suddenly slack hole, arm emerging just as coated in come as when he'd shoved it up there, sloppy ooze still spilling down from higher in his flooded guts. The rim of Cole's ass felt inflamed, flesh aching, throbbing, puffy to the touch. The drones's claws came down again, tugging and tearing, with huge slabs of puffy flesh bulging over the sides of the drone's fingers. The drone hooked his claws over the rim of his ass and pulled, Cole's hole distending into a sloppy oval, gaping effortlessly, thick cords of come webbed across his hole. Fingers pried deeper, clawing at his insides as the drone reached further inside, knuckles grinding against each other as he tried to fit both hands at once into Cole's gaping ass. He could nearly do it: Cole's gaping hole nevertheless drawn taut, forming a thick, rubbery ring wrapped around both the drone's fists. The drone slid back, some measure of tension leaving Cole's spine, leaving his fingertips curled just over the inflamed ring of Cole's ass, keeping him gaping wide. The drone hocked and spat, drool slapping against the inner walls of Cole's ass, and he was spread wide enough for the drone to just reach inside and smear his spit around, stinging against the ravaged walls of his ass, shiny and sloppy. The drone leaned in, breath hot billowing into Cole's ass, mouth open wide, lips pressing in a sloppy seal against the flabby, bruised-bloated lips of Cole's asshole. Drool spilled into him in a constant slow pour, a hot point of weight that drew out to a long line, trickling down the inner walls of his ass to pool inside him, burning and stinging like acid against his ravaged ass. Then the drone pulled back from his obscene kiss and got back to work: fingers and then knuckles bearing down, pulling his asshole taut again, digging inside him, pressing the crest of his knuckles against Cole's ass. One hand slipped inside, a sudden lurch, and then, slower, the other, the drone's palms scraping across his asshole, thumbs the only thing left outside. He slid back and forth, working Cole even further open, spit-slick hands squelching and slurping as he groped across the inner walls of Cole's ass. One of the drone's thumbs scraped upward, talon delineating an arc up until it was nestled at the edge of his broken ass, and he pushed forward -- the motion shockingly easy after what had come before, just an instant of pressure and a lurch and his hand sunk into Cole's ass to the wrist, the rest just sliding in without any resistance. Then the same with his other thumb: braced against the rim of his ass, sliding inside, and the drone pushed his entire hand forward, only taking the slightest nudge for Cole's ass to swallow it up, sinking down past the furrowed, clenching ring of his asshole. It was almost a relief to have his hole wrapped around the drone's wrists: that was nowhere near as broad as the span of both knuckles he'd been rolling over Cole's rim; now all that was settled inside him. Cole let his head fall, hitting the rock below with a thump. His sharp pants kicked up red dust, plastered across his sweaty face and chest in a smeared mess, itchy. He squirmed, motions just drawing attention to the drone's hands shoved up his ass, the millisecond lag between Cole shifting to the left and the drone following, hands knocking around inside him in sharp jolts. The drone shifted, wrists sliding against each other just behind the rim of his ass, hands clenching and spreading inside Cole. Active again, after that moment of respite. He said something guttural, ending with a laugh, and a few seconds later the gravel beside Cole's head crunched, one of the watching drones stepping forward. There was a sloppy wet impact across his back; Locust come splattering across his sweaty and dusty skin, and then a clawed hand smeared it all down his ass, pouring the mess between the drone's fists, into his ass, acting as some minimal lube. Somebody else shot off, with better aim; the ropes hit right against the rim of his ass and gurgled inside, slowly coating the drone's hand and the straining walls of his ass in a fresh layer of come. The drone twisted his hands, slathering them, and shifted again, the added come minimal slickness as he dug further inside, one fist and then the other, back and forth, alternating as he pushed Cole's asshole past its limits. The drone dug deeper with one hand, huge muscles of his forearm spreading Cole's hole wider and wider until he was nearly elbow deep. His claws dug against the rear of Cole's ass, scraping back and forth, each motion lurching inside him. The drone tugged at his guts, sliding his hand over the smooth muscle of Cole's inner ass, minutely deeper and deeper until his fingers caught on a second clenched opening. The opening to his guts proper. The drone dug in, a hot star of pressure deep inside him, tension ratcheting up and up as the drone bore down, until with a shock of heat and pain so abrupt he was certain the drone had torn right through him for a second what felt like a second asshole flared open, letting the drone stuff two fingers up into his guts. Cole groaned, muscles all across his stomach and hips trembling, spasming in reflex, spine taut and arched against the bizarre foreign pressure. After a second the pain spilled away, just the same aching fullness as always, save for how the heat of the drone's hand was a fraction higher, a few inches deeper. The drone's elbow was inside him now, the rough callus of his skin scraping along the inner wall of his ass, a rough sandpaper slide. The arm sunk halfway down the drone's forearm now seemed shallow, with the other elbow deep and reaching even deeper, fingers sliding over the broken sphincter opening into his guts, deeper, deeper. The drone shifted, even the slightest shift in his arms carrying the motion deep inside Cole, wrecked ass and straining guts clamped like a vise around his forearms, like a fraction more pressure would just rip him up inside and out. Cole went limp, body jerking an inch forward with the next motion, puppeted by the hand up his ass. His forehead pressed to the rock, sweat trickling down his face stained red. The drone sunk forward, pulled back, working over his ass, with one hand and then the other. There was a lurch, a kick in his stomach, and Cole twisted his head down to look across his body: there was a lump across his stomach, under his abs. The drone drew back and the lump receded, only to punch forward again, the bulge of what had to be his fist rising across Cole's front, right smack under his bellybutton. Cole gasped for breath, stomach hollowing, and like a rock emerging at low tide the lump grew into a huge thick line, tugging all up and down his front, before he sucked in a gritty breath, abs spasming against the new stretch, and the drone's fist sunk back down. The drone traded off: left fist punching forward, through the opening of his pelvis, all the way up into his guts, and then jerking back, sliding his hands down so he could do it again with his right fist. Left, right, left, right, as Cole wheezed on the rock, each punch causing a mess of come to burble from his hole, catching on the broken furrow of his ring: a deep shelf now, the muscle so bruised and engorged it pouted from his ass, a mess of leathery flesh. Then the drone tried both at once: fists grinding deeper, knuckles practically knocking against bone. And _bone_ was the problem; his flesh and muscles could warp and stretch, but there was only so much space between his hips, and two giant muscled Locust drone arms was just too much. Not that that stopped the drone from trying: claws digging into the flesh of his guts, pushing them back and forth, cupping the wings of his pelvis in his hands and trying to squirm through. Cole just lay there, bellowing sometimes, body coated in a sheen, droplets spilling down his side. He was sweating like a stuck pig, but at this point most of it was probably Locust cum, slathered all over him, just thinned into a messy slime with sweat. At some point there was a low bark of speech, and the drone looking up and away -- arms shifting from where they were lodged in Cole's ass, practically dragging him to the side -- and then the drone pulled out. It was a lurching, slithering sensation as the drone's forearm pulled from his guts, second hole up inside him spasming and gaping as the drone slid his fist out, arms emerging with a slobbery gush of fresh come, wet trickles spilling unimpeded down into his broken-open hole. More talking behind him, the shift as the drone twisted his body to the side, and Cole flopped over, pushing his shoulders up just enough to turn his head to the side: the drone debing him grabbed a thick bottle, like a canteen, from another drone, fingers leaving huge dripping smears down the matte black sides. He uncapped it, the chemical sting of imulsion hitting Cole's nose a second later even through the swampy reek of sex, and Cole's eyes went wide. The drone went back to Cole's ass, two claws pulling out his asshole into a big fat target as he upended the canteen, imulsion drooling out like thick syrup: brilliantly yellow and glowing, shining all across the both of their skin, glossy with sweat and spit and come. The first dollop oozed into him, a sudden heavy spill, simply wet weight for a second before the flesh of his inner ass started to itch and burn. "Ah, fuck," Cole groaned, twisting, and the drone's hand clamped down, holding him in place, muttering something that sounded vaguely consoling by tone. The drone's fingers reached inside, smearing over the painfully-sensitive flesh, pressure relieving the worst of the burn even as he smeared the thick ooze all across the walls of Cole's ass, working it into his flesh until his entire ass burned with the feeling of active imulsion, soaking through his flesh down into muscle and bone. Cole hissed, taking sharp shallow breaths, huffing and groaning as the imulsion burned its way into him. More imulsion poured into him, over the drone's hand, the bottle slowly gurgling as the entire contents drooled out in tarry, taffylike strings, bubbling up around the drone's fingers as he started to sink his hand back into Cole's ass, a froth of imulsion and come bubbling up and spilling down his ass. The drone caught the trail with his free fingers, scooping it back up and pushing it back into Cole's ass, adding to the wet sloppy weight his hand was churning around, gurgling and glorping as more burbled up around the drone's wrist, sinking his whole hand back into Cole's imulsion-flooded ass. Cole panted, letting out little hisses of pain, groaning as the worst of the burning faded, but the heat got more intense, somehow. Like the imulsion ought to be bubbling and boiling out of him, heat without the burning pain as before, and the intensity of it just kept increasing. It was just so _hot_, like a scorching flame lit up inside him. The drone's hand, for a moment, felt almost cool in comparison, a gentle cold rolling against the walls of his ass. The drone hit his prostate, knuckles slurping as the drone rolled back and forth over his ass, and Cole groaned, deep, hot sparks bursting all across his body, limp cock twitching, cockhead slick with pre. A slimy hand pressed against the small of his back as the drone tugged up with his other one: back down, ass up, and the imulsion gurgled deeper inside him, burning a snaky trail as it started to spill down into his guts. The drone's fist churned it around, smearing it across his asshole, fist punching in and pulling out with a hollow sucking noise, over and over, until he brought his other hand sliding up through the imulsion muck painted across Cole's ass cheek, notching it against Cole's hole, and traded off: one fist and then the other, sliding them past each other as the drone punched inside and then jerked back out again, ropes of imulsion sliming across his fists and splattering down across Cole's ass cheeks, thick claws scraping up over his skin to feed it back into his ass, each punch grinding his knuckles against Cole's prostate, forcing a wet spill of pre to ooze from his cock. The heat fanned out, oversensitive flesh prickling from the swoop of air hitting Cole's rim, abused flesh stretching hot as the drone shoved both fists inside. Two fists in him, and Cole could sure as hell feel the stretch, but it wasn't the same as when they'd started; he was warmed up, flesh toned and rubbery, easily capable of spreading wider. The imulsion probably helped. Looking back -- whatever the hell kind of effect the imulsion was having on his ass, the drone sure wasn't getting left out. His claws had turned a dingy yellow, glowing on their own, and under the imulsion sheen his flesh was blackened, like it was burning up in slow motion -- the drone smeared fresh imulsion across his knuckles, thumb rubbing the back of his hand, and a thin sheet of charcoaled flesh peeled right off, crumbling into dust and mixing into the imulsion slime. Like that was nothing, he just got back to it, rubbing his burning-hot knuckles against the rim of Cole's ass, sinking his hand right back inside. And whatever effect the imulsion was having on the drone, well, apparently _he_ was fine with it: the drone fisted him for a bit longer, cords of imulsion slurping out of his ass and being fed back inside, and then the drone sat back, grabbing the canteen with one slimy hand and raising it to his face, taking a swig. Like it was just water. He poured the rest of it into his mouth, cheeks bulging, the dull glow of imulsion visible through the drone's skin, and then pressed his lips to Cole's flowering asshole and spat it right inside, fingers tugging on his rim to make it a fatter target, droplets of imulsion splattering up and down his ass, like little cinders of heat. Cole groaned, burning all up and down inside him, guts pulsing with a foreign heat, internal muscles spasming and lurching as the imulsion soaked into his flesh. The drone reached back inside, hand swiping up a huge gummy mass of imulsion and grinding it against the flushed wall of Cole's ass, huge clawed fingers digging into the pulpy flesh, palm grinding down against his prostate. His ass getting blown open had been -- not slow, that was for sure, but it had had some time to it. Some escalation. This, though -- The imulsion burned as it soaked into his skin, and when it hit his prostate it was like a lightning bolt. The hot prickle of imulsion turned into a flow, pouring through his ass into is prostate. His prostate spasmed, sucking up imulsion fast, and then the drone had to reach lower into his imulsion-flooded ass to grab another thick handful of slime and smear it back up. Cole groaned, limp cock shuddering again, oozing pre, but then his prostate spasmed hard, like a second heart, beating hard and arrhythmically, sending sudden spurts of pre erupting from his cock, each one nearly as big as a whole load. Cole groaned as the drone kept working at it, feeding imulsion to his growing prostate through his ass, prostate twice as big and four times as sensitive, each smear of the drone's fingers against it sending a shock of heat spilling up across his chest, shuddering down through his cock. They drone kept milking his prostate, the huge oversized gland squirting pre, flooding through his internal passageways to dribble from his cock, each squeeze just stimulating it into making more, faster, until the drone was ceaselessly hammering down on the fist-sized gland, forcing a huge messy eruption of pre squirting from his cock with each punch, imulsion-tinged pre burning through him as the drone pumped it out of him with punch after punch. happy enough to leave it alone, its continual shuddering vibrating through his anal walls; the drone sunk back down again, just brushing his elbow against it, the pressure of his arms filling up Cole's ass leaving him continually drooling a steady flow of imulsion-tinged pre from his limp dick, the lack of direct stimulation almost as overwhelming as the intense milking. Cole sobbed into the dust, cock weakly spasming, sluggishly pissing out a stringy mixture of altered pre and come. The drone grunted, knuckles of one hand rolling back and forth over his prostate before bearing down, a constant unceasing pressure that had Cole moaning and sobbing while the drone bore deeper with his other hand: pushing with only the slightest catch into his guts, deeper, and then straightening his arm to let his elbow shove in again, slowly easing deeper until Cole could feel the new stretch as the base of his bicep pressed against his hole. The drone panted, breath fanning out across Cole's back, the awkward position of his arms forcing him in close, chest pressed against Cole's ass, arms pinned to his front, wedged in place by the limitations of Cole's body, asshole like an enormous rubber band wrapped around them. It wasn't just his muscles either; the drone's forearms were squeezed tight between his pelvis, ass feeling like nothing so much as a little bit of meat stretched over an implacable skeleton. But the burning sunk to the bone and then flared out in wings, fanning all across his pelvis, and then in sharp, sudden lurches Cole could feel his fucking _bones_ creak wider. Like warped wood or stiff taffy, the pressure of the drone's arms inside him pushing his hips wider in shocking bursts. The set of the drone's shoulders was only capable of bringing his arms so close together, and so Cole was gaping even between the drone's arms; he was broken so wide that two arms would be _only_ two arms, if they were pressed flush together. Instead there was an open gulf inside him, a few inches of open air between the drone's arms as he fit his other bicep in: both arms, bicep deep, lodged impossibly into Cole's ass. He could hardly breathe; the crests of the drone's fists weren't that far below his diaphragm, a painful pressure building if he tried to take a deep breath. Cole's shuddering, spasmodic clenches down his stomach fought against the drone's hands, knuckles felt as huge pebbles, sliding against the underside of his abs, knocking against his ribs, straining for room against his muscles. The drone's hot breath spilled inside him, head only an inch away, drool dripping down against his tailbone, spilling over the rim of his ass to ooze into his broken body. Cole twitched, hole spasming -- rim so swollen, bruised, transformed at this point that it was a muscle to rival the drone's arms, an immense ring, brutally strong, its minute tremors and clenches sucking the drone forward, keeping his arms clamped deep in Cole's guts -- and the drone lurched forward, thrown off balance by the pull, both arms wedged inside him. His hole felt -- enormous, so wide it spread the slabs of his ass cheeks out of place. Springy and rubbery, gaping absolutely beyond what was humanly possible rubbery stretch absolutely beyond what was humanly possible, the drone drooling against his tailbone with both hands bicep deep in his ass, stomach swollen by his fists; Cole's shuddering, spasmodic clenches down his stomach fought against the drone's hands, knuckles felt as huge pebbles, sliding against the underside of his abs, straining for room against his muscles. The drone dipped his head fractionally, mouth touching the upper rim of Cole's hole, tongue lolling out past his teeth, drooling straight into Cole's gape, lips sloppily kissing the edge of Cole's broken furl. with both arms bicep deep in his ass, stomach swollen by his fists; The drone called again, and there was a stirring around them: Cole opened his eyes, seeing nothing but smears until he blinked: the crowd had packed in, drones jerking off only a few inches from his face, the steady _thopp thopp thopp_ noise, grunts and growls, something that had faded into background noise, suddenly brought back into focus. , some of the assembled crowd stepping forward to loose their loads. Another drone leaned in close, hip pressing against Cole's side, his cock a lead pipe, and he shot all up and down his body, drenching him in rancid slime, salty and sour when it sprayed into his open and panting mouth. Cockheads rubbed against his cheeks, not trying to flood his mouth, just cover him in as much mess as possible. The come splattered across his became a physical weight, thick mats across his neck and back, forming chunky pools; the trickle spilling down his sides became a river, a solid flow entirely covering his skin. A drone stepped closer, then again, pebbles crunching under his feet, drooling cock splattering hot droplets of pre across Cole's sweaty back. The drone dropped to his knees, hip digging into Cole's side, his cock a lead pipe of heat pressed against his ass cheek, cockhead digging between the drone's arms. He stroked himself off, knuckles crashing against Cole's hole, and wedged the very tip of his cockhead into the strained gap between the drone's arms, spraying his entire load into Cole's ass in pulse after pulse, a sudden shock of fluid heat, sloppy chunks of come splattering across the drone's forearms, spilling out of him just as fast as they sprayed inside. Like that was a signal, more of the assembled crowd stepped forward to loose their loads across the drone's chest and biceps, hands across them both smearing the tarry gunk across his arms, a dozen fingers feeding it over the raw red rim of Cole's ass. Cole twisted to look, knocking the breath from his lungs as the twist ground the drone's fists into his diaphragm -- and then one of the drones let out a roar, drooling cock erupting in a gush of slimy come, hosing across his back and catching the drone behind him right across the face. The drone sputtered, spitting his mouthful of come straight into Cole's ass, a sudden burst of gurgling fluid slapping across the drone's biceps and spilling inside him. Cords of come splattered over the rim of Cole's hole, drooling into him, a sluicing flow of grungy slop drenching the drone's face and shoulders. The drone took it just as much as Cole did, grimy layers of chunky Locust come pouring across their skin, spilling down Cole's sides or over the drone's shoulders. The drones fucking had it in them at least; Cole was at the center of a storm, splatters of thick, chunky come falling down on him from a dozen angles. He was soaked, thick cords pooling in the small of his back or spilling down his sides, hands scraping most of it up to his ass, huge jiggling fist-sized globs splattering across the drone's shoulders or being shoved between them, flooding his ass with thick slop, gurgling as it sluggishly spilled down the drone's arms, pouring inside him in slow, heavy pulses. milking his cock, splatters dribbling down across Cole's back comeshot hitting him right in the forehead and spraying all over, silty come spilling down his face and gluing his eyes shut, salt-sour pouring into his open, gasping mouth. swampy mess of chunky come, a dozen loads spilling down into his ass, pouring along the drone's arms flexed, the muscle of the drone's bicep swelling, losing what little softness it had -- meat digging into the already-gaping rim of his ass, absolutely flattening his prostate. It was a continual heavy pressure that built up into a steady thrum of pleasure, a shock slide lurching through him every time the drone shifted his arms, flexing one and then the other and then both. Cole groaned, groans turning into sharp pants, an incoherent whining bark of pleasure when the drone shifted just-so, craggy flesh scraping against the swollen, inflated flesh of his prostate. Cole sobbed, moaning into the ground, lips smeared with dust and come, grit in the back of his throat, helplessly spasming and clenching around the drone's arms, eyes rolled back into his skull, only aware of the wet slap of drool and come spilling down inside him, the continual stretch of the drone's arms, deep deep in him. He came, limp cock dribbling come, and then again, and again, orgasms chaining off each other over and over until he was dry but still coming, shuddering uncontrollably, gasping breath and heartbeat loud in his ears, drowning out everything else. a shout from above, and the drone arms-deep inside him flinched back. The fists jerked inside him in a lurch that knocked the breath from his lungs, and pulled out in a rush that left Cole's ass prolapsed into a meaty blossom. Claws scraped across the rock next to him, all the drones suddenly up and away without a word. The drone's absence left yawning emptiness inside him, like he'd been hollowed out. The clench of his abs and ass was like the cataclysmic shifting of geologic strata; there was an impact inside him as the gulf of empty space was flattened, opposing walls of his gaped guts pressing together again, a hollow gulp coming from his wrecked body, come and imulsion burbling out of his prolapsed ass in a frothy mess, huge glossy bubbles slowly spilling down his thighs, spurting messily from the giant puckered crater of his asshole, swollen out between his cheeks in a chunky ridge. Cole groaned, abused body flopping to the side to land heaving on the bare rocks, impact juddering, guts squirming inside him, still swollen and gurgling. He reached back, haltingly, even the effort it took to move his arms, twist his chest, sending shockwaves of phantom sensation burning up through his broken ass, like the drone was still bicep-deep and just tugging at something new; he gasped and lay still, panting splayed out on the rocks, waiting for the intensity of it to fade. It took him minutes to get far enough to open his eyes, watching blurry interlocking figures swim across his vision. Cole blinked a few times, wiped the sweat and come from his eyes, and things came into focus: the drones had peeled away from them and lined up in a ragged-looking formation. The reason for it all became clear: there was another shout, this time punctuated by a horn, and then the rest of the legion came into view: about twice as many drones, tramping up the highroad. The assembled drones looked ridiculous, and not just because up until a few weeks ago Cole'd had no idea what a Locust drone would look like naked with his dick hard. Almost none of them had grabbed any of their gear when they dashed off, and those that had were struggling to pull on their leathers, still-hard cocks too big to fit. They were a mess of sweaty bodies and hard cocks, skin splattered with greasy-looking patches of come. Even so, it was weird to see them all lined up in a rectangular box, even one ragged and visibly lopsided. Cole tried to count, five deep and seven or eight across; somewhere around three dozen. And his drone -- well, not _his_ drone -- was obvious: first row, second from the end of one of the lines. The transformation from the imulsion was obvious from a distance, his arms burnt charcoal black nearly up to the shoulder, still shiny. Living proof he'd been bicep-deep in Cole's ass. Cole hoped -- well, he wasn't sure. He didn't really want a matte black asshole though; maybe the imulsion worked differently on humans. And the drone's face -- well, maybe the drone had taken the brunt of the impromptu bukkake; his head and shoulders were streaming with come, rivulets running down his body, on the way to painting him head to toe. Cole probably looked just as bad; there wasn't an inch of skin that wasn't slathered and dripping. Then the leader of the main legion stepped into clear view, no longer being swarmed by a mess of drones all around. It was a Theron Guard, the elite kind, decked out in black armor and a good two feet taller than his grunts, an actual giant as opposed to the drones' general massiveness. He paced back and forth in front of the ragged troupe who'd been fucking them. He barked out something in Locust, and even though Cole didn't know a word -- this is when Baird not being cock-drunk would've helped -- he could guess. The troop that'd fucked them were an advance scout, something like that, and the rest of the squad sure wasn't expecting to catch up on them, all of them balls deep in a few humans -- mostly humans -- they'd come across. Whoops. The Locust captain -- which was probably what the Theron was, Cole guessed -- started yelling, dressing down the squad maybe. Or, hell, for all Cole knew he was congratulating them for knocking Marcus up again; wasn't like he knew shit about shit. Cole just lay there, aches still rippling up and down through his body, focusing on the swollen mess of his puffy asshole. Cole reached back, stifling his groan, and gingerly probed his prolapse. He hissed, quiet, as he slowly peeled his flesh apart from where it'd been glued together with drying come, and his swollen flesh lurched, slurping back into his ass in a motion that left him gasping, a raw, used pain throbbing up his spine even as he kept running his calloused fingers over the rim of his ass, huffing and groaning from the drag of flesh on flesh. Cole was knuckle-deep in his ass when the tenor of the Locust yelling changed. Less angry-sounding barking. He tipped his head back, looking over at them again. And, hell, looked like Locust discipline was a hell of a lot different than he was used to. The Theron had shoved up his kilt, and, damn, it looked like there was a reason the Theron guards wore a big armored kilt instead of pants, because that guy sure as hell wasn't gonna be wearing pants, not unless they had a crotch that went down mid-thigh. Limp the Theron's cock hung to his knees, balls like oversized thrashballs slapping back and forth against his thighs, too big to even hang down straight unless the Theron took a wide stance. His armored leggings were more like chaps, cut away at his crotch to let his cock hang out. The shaft was thicker even than his treetrunk legs, making a bloated, gristle-encrusted pillar bulging out from his body. It hardly even looked like a _cock_, something so huge it seemed like it had to be some kinda fleshy tumor, a heavy bloated mass swaying and slapping against his legs. Some of the bigger drones had that reinforced gristle; something to keep their cocks from just collapsing in on themselves when they got hard they were so huge; the Theron's cock seemed to be nothing but gristled bits, so huge and overlapping Cole could see them even twenty feet away: huge bands and lumps along his shaft, skin discolored and dark; the weird rocky outcroppings that dotted locust hide fanning across his thighs and growing up the base of his shaft. Like pubes, kinda, but what it actually looked a lot more like was a naturally-grown cockring, and then again, and again, thick ridges of rocky flesh bulging out from his shaft multiple times up his length, making reinforced bands. The Theron yelled something, and in a scurrying mass a bunch of drones dove for his cock. Cole wasn't that was what they were actually doing at first; maybe just kneeling around him, but then they absolutely went for it: a bunch of big Locust soldiers squabbling like kids over who got the honor of pressing their faces against the Theron's cock. The Theron had to yell something else, spitting out an order -- and literally spitting on the assembled bunch -- until they fell into line, sucking his cock more obediently: two slobbering across the still-sheathed span of his cockhead; three or four with their hands wrapped around the shaft, tongues dragging up and down the side of his shaft; and a few practically pinned down at the bottom of the pile, heads sandwiched between the Theron's shaft and balls, tugging at his massive leathery sac. The Theron's cock was still completely soft as far as Cole could tell, just a massive fat worm that all the drones were licking up and down, tugging and squeezing and opening wide to fit some small arc of its enormous girth into their mouths. The Theron's cock visibly rippled as it hardened, pulsing like some gigantic, grotesque slug, and each twitch sent it and the horde wrapped around it swaying to the side, following its weighty motions. It slapped across the side of a drone's head and knocked him over, sprawling back long enough for somebody else to slide up and take the apparently-honored position suckling on his cockhead. The drone got up, face flushed dark, and the two growled at spat at each other for a second, before the Theron said something down at them, letting the second drone keep his place while the first started drooling and stroking the flesh just under the Theron's cockhead. The drones toyed with the Theron's foreskin, peeling it back over his fat cockhead in wrinkled, leathery folds. His cockhead was flushed an imulsion-yellow to match his corded veins, the whole thing glowing dimly as it shuddered to life. The drones hoisted it up, hands cupping all along the mammoth shaft, the turgid flesh bulging out between their spread fingers. cockslit gigantic, long as one of the drones' hands, the flesh around it swollen and bulging further, deeply flushed, looking almost like a pair of oversized lips. The Theron groaned, head tipped back, and his cock pulsed, a shudder working up its length until the slit parted, gaping into a broad oval, and spat out a huge mess of slime, sloppy imulsion-tinged ooze, that splattered all across the bare flesh of the drones at the front, who eagerly lapped it up with their broad, warted tongues, sharing messy kisses as a second spurt gushed all across their faces. drone rose up, hands wrapped around the Theron's cockhead, and gave it a messy kiss, cockhead just as big as his head, gaping cockslit drooling pre faster than the drone could swallow it, overflow splattering across his face, spilling down his chest, scooped up by the other drones clawing at his chest, sucking their pre-coated fingers, pressing their faces against the drone's chest, shoulders, armpits, pressing their tongues open-mouthed against his skin to swipe up the sloppy overflow that poured down his body. the Theron's cock was just so huge. Big. Bigger than the drones' goddamn arms, easily; bigger than their legs. The fat, rubbery lips of the Theron's cock parted, showering them in pre, and one of the drones shoved his tongue inside, his sputtering, gurgling moans loud enough to carry over to where Cole was lying. Fingers dug into the Theron's cockhead, shoving into his slit, and spread it gaping, the drone shoving his mouth practically inside the gaping slit, nose dipping inside, and the next gush of pre erupted out over his cheeks, spraying all across the various drones' arms. Marcus was out of it, heat finally extinguished by what had gotta be the biggest gangbang Cole'd ever seen; he and the ground around him out to a few feet was drenched, practically bathing in Locust come, piled up all across his sides, glaze across his chest only just starting to dry into thick flakes. Baird was sprawled on his side, sleeping or doing a pretty good impression of it, mouth hanging open with drool spilling out, wheezing breaths coming steadily. He'd better hope he didn't start snoring, or else the Locust were definitely gonna wake him up for another round. Out of the three of them, Cole was the one in the best shape, and that was even after factoring in the arms-deep fisting he'd just gotten. Well, Cole hadta be honest with himself: at this point, if the Theron had gone for either of the others he woulda been jealous. Marcus got to get gangbanged by Locust practically daily at this point; Cole wanted some of that monster dick for himself. Even if -- each step the Theron took closer made it clearer just how massively he was hung. That shit was definitely the next step up, after getting double-fisted by a locust drone. And, hell, if the Theron wanted to try to fit both his arms up Cole's ass at that point by volume he'd be more Locust than human. hadn't closed exactly, but at least the opposite sides of his ass had made contact, puffy flesh smeared together, walls scraping against each other with each movement Cole made. so hot the heat seemed to lash across Cole's thighs, a burning heat growing more and more intense across his ass until they finally made contact, the Theron's cockhead almost frictionlessly slick, the both of them slathered with slime. cockhead nestled between his cheeks, and it was so huge the Theron had to lean forward to reach him, bent over the length of his own cock. His huge hands dug down between the cheeks of Cole's ass, thumbtip swiping over the ragged scratch the other drone had made. Then his fingers were inside him, fingers braced against the edges of his hole. The Theron spread him open easily enough, hands sinking into his ass and peeling him back open. Thick syrupy cords of slime stretched out between his walls, thick dots of tension inside him that bowed and relaxed, hot slime splattering down in lines over his inner flesh. Cole braced against the ground, groaning at the new stretch, abused flesh only given minutes to even begin to recover. The Theron's cock lurched, motion lurching into him through the cockhead pressed against his hole, and then he was absolutely flooded, an immense gush of slimy pre pouring into him in a sloshing, gurgling wave, excess spilling out around the edges of the Theron's cock. The Theron still wasn't fully hard; his cockhead had some give as the Theron ground forward, cock squishing minutely to fit in the still-tight furrow of Cole's grotesquely gaping asshole The Locust thrust in, and the fat ring of banded flesh at the base of his cockhead crashed against Cole's asshole; his cock was big and semi-soft enough to act nearly as a gigantic spring: flesh contracting as the Theron bore down against Coles as-of-yet unyielding asshole, and then the bunched flesh sprung back, pushing them apart with a bounce, a few inches of cock slurping out of Cole's ass, coated in sloppy ooze, glistening dully. The matte surface of the Theron's cock rippled, streaming with slime, cords of it slowly flattening across his skin and starting to drool down, forming thick cords hanging across the underside of his cock, swaying forwards to slap Cole's balls when the Theron thrust again -- thick ridge ramming against Cole's hole, straining hard enough to dimple Cole's entire ass into a huge crater, and then the cockhead burst inside him, crashing against the inner walls of his broken ass as the Theron's cock broke him open. Cole groaned, more of a long, exhausted exhale than anything else: feeling like his lungs were emptying to make room for the cock pouring into him, filling every last cranny of space inside him. bones creaking, the imulsion-burn starting up again, like his entire body was reshaping itself around the Theron's cock, making him a living sheath to his colossal cock. warping in his guts, the slow but inexorable motion of the Theron's cock ironing them straight. There were things inside him that felt like giant rubber bands, hooked all around his guts, and he could only feel them now because the pressure was making them shift all out of place, stretching and skewing, and as they warped so did his guts, folding back in on themselves with a weird lurch, the same churn as getting punched hard in the guts but without the pain. Just... strange. Cole breathed hard, the flutter of his lungs pressing against his shifting guts, and abruptly he felt an entire coil slop out of place, spooling over itself to make room for the Theron's cock. The Theron's thrusts were strong enough to shatter his pelvis if his bones weren't already crackling and twisting, reshaping themselves to give Cole a wider opening. Sudden sharp shocks ran through his body, pelvis warping in jerks, muscle and skin smearing over his bones. Hell, it was hard to tell what was his body reshaping and what was only -- only! -- from having a cock nearly the size of his torso shoved inside him. Cole panted, wheezing, as his body rippled. Forget the slow, easy bloat of the drone's fists: his gut bulged and then bulged more, cockhead forming a bizarre, shuddering swell just below his ribs, rising up further as the Theron shoved more of his cock inside him, until it deformed his whole stomach, dragging his flesh out into a ludicrous bulge like his skin was just so much rubber. All that and the Theron hadn't even started to fuck him properly, yet. Cole lay there, boneless, just dead weight, a big sheath for the Theron's cock, and the Theron reached down and grabbed him like he was a toy, lifting him up to better align with his cock. The Theron's hands easily circled his entire body: huge claws biting into his stomach, thumbs digging into the small of his back. The Theron dragged him down, cock a cannon-barrel driving into him, guts lurching and squirming as they stretched inhumanly around the Locust's titanic cock, the bloat of his stomach distending even further, more than a solid handspan of cock bulging out past his ribs. The Theron's cock was lumpy, lapped with huge gristled ridges of flesh, and the ridges and spars around his cockhead were big enough to be visible through Cole's skin: an extra-wide lump just under his cockhead, bloating out Cole's gut in a big ridge. Cole was dimly aware of sobbing and bellowing, his shredding stomach rippling up and down, guts gurgling and slurping, obscene noises coming out of him as the Theron plunged him down on his cock over and over again. The swelling cockhead shoved under his ribs, bashing the breath from his lungs, and Cole silently gasped, diaphragm working against the taut swell of his cockhead. He could feel it coming; the Theron's thrusts got sharper and harder, and his entire cock flexed, going taut, before it thickened even further, sudden spasms running up and down its length, cockhead practically flaring out, its thick rim spreading further. Cole looked down, gut bloated unevenly, stretched inhumanly over the gargantuan dick inside him. Then the Theron finally came, roaring loud, head tipped back. Cole had gotten _shot_ in ways that hadn't left him this much of a wreck. Come lanced inside him, burning hot, the force of it visibly rippling his stomach, bloating and dimpling like his ruined skin was at this point little more than a fucking water balloon getting filled up. He groaned soundlessly, trying to cup his hands over the wobbling, distending flesh, huge pockets of come flooding inside him, folding over themselves before spilling loose into his splayed guts, but his arms just spasmed and jerked, slapping his stiff fingers against his sides, sending his already-bloated belly shaking side-to-side. The ache got worse as his entire body stretched and distended around the Theron's cock: all that come plugged up inside him, sloshing and stirring with each extra pulse, his swollen gut creaking and straining, flesh fraying into a messy zigzag of raw stretchmarks, raw red furrows like zebra stripes across the sides of his bloated gut. Cole gasped, coughed, lungs and stomach fighting for space against the implacable flood of come, each gush a solid kick to the gut, until he swore he was gonna start coughing it out if the Theron kept up, gagging on nothing. Theron laughed, claws digging into Cole's torn thighs, and even the slight pressure against his belly made him gag, flooded guts lurching up to press against his stomach, thick drool spilling from his mouth. But the Theron dug in and _twisted_, flipping Cole over onto his stomach. His guts twisted -- locked tight around his mammoth cock -- and lurched, warping even further out of place into a bloated mass, and his grotesquely-swollen stomach was so heavy it resisted the motion for a moment, lurching after him like a wrecking ball. Cole gagged, vomiting up nothing, just spit and slimy ropes of phlegm, stomach lurching as his gut swayed up and down, knocking the breath from his body. Cole hung there, impaled on the Theron's cock, guts twisted and tied around it in a lumpy furl, gut sagging down under him in an immense weighty teardrop from the sheer volume of the load, flesh rippling with each new pulse. The Theron kept thrusting, cock still erupting, and Cole warbled as he took each jackhammer-hit burst to his guts, inner passages flooded higher and higher, burning a hot, snaky path up and down inside him. His guts were bloated and swollen, pumped fuller and fuller with Locust come; he was dimly aware of a squirt of come erupting out around the Theron's cock, more joining that until there was a continual spill slopping down his thighs, but that was so, so little compared to the torrent emptying itself into him. his drone loitering back, staring at Cole's wrecked body. He was still half-hard, cock thick and swollen, flushed dark, but hanging between his thighs instead of jutting straight out -- seemed like everybody _else_ had gotten to come in him or all over him, but his drone had been more interested in cramming both his arms up Cole's ass. Cole twisted over onto his side, breath labored, every movement sending an eruption of come squirting out from the cavernous stretch of his wrecked ass. Well, Cole couldn't hold it against him, given what he'd gotten out of it. "Gonna fuck me?" he asked, maybe a little plaintively. "Gonna finish what you started?" Cole said between gasps, one hand dug into his bloated stomach, imulsion-tainted come splattered all across his skin. "You got a plan for anything after that?" He let out a ragged bark of a laugh, more of a sharp exhale than anything else, and let himself slurp down, resting what muscles he could, gut sagging out further, rock slabs under him painful planes of pressure against his bloated gut. "Unless you're gonna crawl right up inside me I don't think you can top anything your captain did." He raised one leg, thigh spasming wildly, gaping hole on display, absolutely pouring out come in a sloppy waterfall, spasming clenches just forcing out more come in huge messy bursts. "So how about you get over here and put your dick in me." burning imulsion-laced claws digging into the flesh of his ass, meaty slabs all folded over themselves, shiny and taut from the internal swelling. The drone's breath was hot, sizzling across Cole's wet skin, the lash of his tongue smearing over the rim of his ass, open mouth gulping down the flood of come pouring out of him, most of it just slathering down the drone's neck, pouring down his chest. His tongue lapped inside, fingers digging deeper again, peeling the flesh of his ass wider and wider until he prolapsed again, thick furls of flesh slurping out, guts shuddering, spilling over the backs of the drone's hands until they were sunk finger-deep in Cole's broken furl, the drone's mouth open wide pressed inside him, gulping and drooling -- hell, Cole could feel his _face_, flat nose, sharp cheeks, board chin, all half-sunk inside the meat of his prolapse. "Oh-- fuckin'-- hell!" Cole bellowed, the drone shuddering as he pushed deeper, pulling his claws back to dig into the rim of his prolapse, just coaxing out another fold of abused flesh to fold over his fingers again. He stretched, chin slurping inside, digging in under the rim of Cole's prolapse, forehead scraping down -- his claws went up, hugging his hole out wider, Cole painfully aware of the drone's heavy brows, the shape of his fucking _skull_ as he shoved his entire face deep into Cole's ass, shoulders shoving against his thighs as he worked himself in this point he stretched easy; the drone's head wasn't any fucking bigger than the Theron's _cockhead_, but it was sure as hell -- it was sure as hell more _unusual_, breath fluttering in his ass, the lumpy scrape of his ears and brow, the fat nub of the drone's nose grinding against his prostate. It was sure as hell _something_ that was for damn sure. claws tugging out, peeling Cole's flesh away from where it'd stuck to the drone's skin, cradling the burning, tortured rim of his ass in his hand, a huge inches-thick ridge of brutally swollen flesh, stretchy and rubbery and almost entirely unlike flesh, a huge muscular rubberband of imulsion-laced meat, stretching now almost entirely around the drone's head, slowly crawling -- with each of Cole's spasmatic clenches -- across the back of the drone's head, until it was settled like a choker around the drone's neck, his entire head shoved up inside Cole's wrecked ass. His claws tugged under his neck -- Cole could feel every swallow, every breath, mouth opening, tongue spilling out to press against the sloppy, flooded walls of Cole's ass, shuddering and clenching against the immense intrusion of the drone's head. The drone's claws dug in under his chin, peeling Cole's flesh away from his neck, and then he panted, hot rasping breaths like fire inside him, gasps between the flood of come still pouring down all across him, spilling from Cole's ass, oozing down his neck in thick cords. Fingers scraped across his hole, stretching it out further, and he shoved his hand back in along his head -- the drone's arms going askew like he was trying to put on a tight shirt -- and Cole didn't have anything left in him; he was limp, boneless, just groaning and panting as the drone tore up his guts. Hand, wrist, forearm, elbow, bicep, all lurching in over the lumpy ridge of his wrecked asshole, his abused flesh warping and stretching, sharp _spangs_ resonating up through his spine as the massive furl of his asshole spread and spread. The drone's hands groped through his flooded guts, masses of the Theron's tarry, lumpy load slurping and squelching out of him in abrupt gouts, slathering the drone's craggy hide. His guts churned and bulged as the drone shoved around inside him, trying to find space. The giant crest of the drone's bicep shoved into him -- not even a catch -- and then the drone's shoulderblade, shoved up against his neck. The hairy thatch of the drone's armpit scraped stiff and rasping across the raw flesh of his hole, and then his entire goddamn shoulder shoved inside. His stomach bloated out abruptly as the drone pressed his spread hand against Cole's ass and just shoved, individual claws very nearly visible imprinted across his stomach before the drone twisted around -- leathery shoulder and back sawing across the ridge of his asshole -- and shoved his elbow against Cole's gut from the insides, guts gurgling as they warped out further. The shove of the drone's other hand against his asshole felt inevitable at that point. His body was warped and bloated, hips broken inhumanly wide, his asshole an enormous meaty _thing_ spilling out of him, a shuddering, squirming ring of purple-black flesh, ass cheeks so widely spread they were just planes of flesh around his hole, skin and muscle in a shape that wasn't even immediately recognizable as part of a human body. The drone's breath seared across his insides, arm curled up around his head to give him some breathing room -- elbow a lump bulging out from Cole's stomach, hand reaching up inside his body cavity, shoulder dragging back and forth over the meat of Cole's asshole. belly seamed enormously with vivid red stretch marks, shiny with lymph, the widest speckled minutely with tiny drops of blood. Each lurch of the drone inside him tore them wider, practically shredding his skin in front of him: ragged tears ripping their way across his hips, down his belly, all up and down his sides, skin splitting with a diffuse, hardly even painful sensation, like peeling off wet clothes. arm jerked up and knocked him right in the stomach. Cole gagged on nothing, breathlessly spitting up a foaming mess of bile as the drone squashed his stomach and lungs flat, raggedly gasping between heaves. drone couldn't shoulder his way through even Cole's cracked-wide hips. One arm was up there, shoved deep into his guts, practically groping his ribs, and the drone pressed his shoulder against his head, claws tearing at Cole's guts as he reflexively tried to get any purchase. Moving like he was hauling his body through a narrow gap. Cole howled, the drone's meaty shoulder scraping through his pelvis, lurching higher up inside him, the muscle of his body a constant pressure on his aching bones, stuffing the cavity of his pelvis nearly beyond its limits. Cole was just staring unseeing up at the cavern roof, guts churning and lurching, pelvis creaking, panting and whining as the drone's massive traps shoved up through his hips, one at a time. The drone's fucking nipples scraped across his asshole, fat pecs shoved together by the clench of his hole, craggy scutes across his shoulder and chest biting into the pulpy flesh of his ass, tugging and yanking his ruined guts around as the drone twisted around, practically his entire goddamn torso shoved up into the mess that was once Cole's asshole. The drone shoved an elbow or hand or _something_ up into his rib cavity, and Cole couldn't even yell; the breath was punched out of him with a hollow _whoof_, stomach heaving as it was flattened. Cole heaved, twisting his head to the side as he vomited up a mess of come and bile, coughing weakly when he could manage to draw breath against the constant pressure of the drone's body jammed against his diaphragm. His was face covered in a mess of snot and tears, coughing up spit and bile; each heave of his stomach outlined the lumpy mass of the drone, head and arms and shoulders forming an uneven mishmash, anatomy only vaguely visible through Cole's grotesquely-swollen belly. He ached all over, the stretch marks from _only_ having a chest-sized cock shoved into his ass seeming paltry now; his skin was more rip than whole, broad raw ribbons striped across his bulging gut, their centers shredded so deep they oozed speckles of red, little beads of lymph pouring down his sides, crusting over the blood in stinging bursts. Cole was dimly aware of gasping, heaving, vomiting up more come and bile, body shaking and shuddering from the drone squirming around inside him, the ache sometimes scaling up into a sudden sharp tear as his skin shredded wider. his asshole bowed outward along with the exiting mass of the drone's body, its enormously-puffy slabs of flesh plastered to the locust's skin. His asshole yawned wider and wider, more and more flesh spilling out of him, until there was a sharp _yank_ higher up inside him and his ass flipped itself inside-out, a mass of clinging guts wrapped around the drone's torso, clinging tight, unspooling further from inside him as the drone slowly pulled himself out from Cole's ruined body. pulled out with a _slurp_, more of Cole's ass spilling out in lumpy folds of flesh with it, and the drone just panted for a while, gasping, breath hot billowing over the mess of Cole's ass, claws digging into the curve of his ass for support. It felt like half his guts were lying on the cavern floor, a lumpy, come-splattered mess of bruised flesh spilling out of his inverted ass, his stomach hollowed out unnaturally without the tangle of his guts in it. Cole just lay there too, dazed, panting, the open emptiness of his ass an alien sensation, all full of slimy flesh sliding over itself, ass hollowly suckling on nothing, guts churning, what was once his asshole and what was now just a ring of flesh pulsing between the hanging mass of his prolapsed colon and his actual body vainly struggling to pull his guts back inside, a rubbery inch or two of guts slurping in on themselves only to spill back out again. sluggishly pulling the immense furl of his prolapsed guts back inside him. sharp painful creaks from his imulsion-soaked pelvis, bone slowly pulling itself into some semblance of shape -- which was good, because right now Cole was pretty sure he if he tried to stand up he'd just dislocate both his legs. stroking himself fully hard with the mess leaking from Cole's ass, then leaning forward, one hand braced against Cole's fat ass, the other sinking his cock to the balls, foot and then some of cock not even a stretch, not after everything else. There was an eruption of come, cock displacing a mess of coagulated come that'd been pouring down from his guts, finger-thick ropes squirting out around the drone's cock and cording between them. claws wrapped around his cock, sliding up and down through the mess of come. Cole bellowed, moaning soft grunts, huffing breaths between the sloppy slap of each thrust. After all that it really didn't take long for the drone to drop his load. He'd been pent up for sure; Cole felt every one of his shots, just adding currents to the swampy mess of come inside him. pulled out, breathing hard, cock dribbling the last of his load down Cole's slimy thighs. His hips were tethered to Cole's with huge chunky cords, the Theron's load smeared all across the both of them; the drone scraped the worst off his hide and stuffed it back into Cole's leaking hole, huge globs of chunky, half-coagulated ooze gurgling inside him, scraped off the drone's hands onto the rim of his ass, more just burbling out afterwards. It was -- after everything else, almost a letdown in a way. They were both animals after all, and this was maybe the basest impulse. Stick your cock in a hole and come. Took a bit more ingenuity to get into double-fisting, shoving your goddamn head into somebody's ass, all that just because you wanted to see how it went. Going back to just fucking him -- well. Cole was he thought more than a little out of it: pulse racing, dehydrated, body aching all over, guts churning with imulsion-tainted come. Being the center of a Locust gangbang was _hard fucking work_. Mostly he was thinking about how fucking heavy his body was, all dense muscle and sloshing come. Cole lurched to the side, hissing at the impact, and then flopped onto his back, looking up at his drone for maybe the first time. His head was a mess, glazed in come, a thick band of smeared, crusted come around his shoulders to show precisely how deep he'd gotten into Cole's ass, and from there his chest was sloppy with thick streaks, half-dried smears of come painted in lumpy sworls all down his body, thinning only a little between his chest and crotch, cock soaked in a tarry cocoon of come, cords latched across his thighs and abs, so much it concealed the sheer heft of his cock, even spent and half-hard. He tugged the locust forward, the two of them chest-to-chest, and dragged the drone's head down to kiss him hard, hands gripping the drone's sides, feeling the heft of his muscles ash arms wrapped around him, burning hot ass felt funny -- no shit -- but beyond the rubbery looseness, the throb of sensation that tore through him with each labored step. His legs felt like water, asshole still bursting and leaking sloppy gushes of come down his thighs; a huge pulsing heart, a drooling mouth slapped between his cheeks, bruised and engorged flesh scraping and sliding over itself with soft slurps, sensation like static burning up his spine, each step leaving a fresh spurt of come squirting out to dribble down his overstimulated skin. asshole felt like an immense round ball, a knot of tortured muscle squeezed tight to fit in the space his body allowed; each step felt like his ass cheeks were wrapping around it, folded like kidney beans around the inflated swell of his broken asshole. The pressure of each step shot up his legs and hit his hole like a lightning bolt, pressure squeezing against it like huge handprints sinking into his bloated flesh, sending hot shocks of pleasure burning up inside him. Cole staggered his way over to Baird, bracing a hand across the rocky outcropping as he laboriously sunk down on his knees, gut sloshing and heaving, a fresh flood of imulsion-tainted come gushing down his thighs. He knelt there for a second, breathing hard, before shoving Baird's shoulder, none too gently. "C'mon, get your ass up." "What the hell happened to _you_?!" Baird seemed -- disgusted and worshipful at the same time, eyes wide, hands caressing Cole's bloated gut, all shiny and coated in layers of coagulated come, mixed in with patchy scabs of half-dried lymph from his shredded skin. Like he wanted to do it to somebody or watch it or maybe have it happen to him. Baird dug into Cole's gut, pressure making the continual flood of come from his prolapsed ass tick up a notch. Cole groaned, and Baird just _moaned_, digging into Cole's rock-hard gut with both hands. His enormous cock smacked against his belly with a _crack_, startling the both of them -- Baird jerked his hands back like he'd been burned, flush creeping over his cheeks. "Next time we run into a Theron, I'm offering up _your_ ass," Cole said, and Baird sputtered and mumbled, ignoring how his cock had kept stiffening until it was rock hard. "You shoulda seen it," Cole kept going, grinning now. "The Theron's cock was big as my fuckin' chest; he had a half-dozen Locust between his legs trying to suck him off." Baird had, almost absently, dropped a hand to his crotch; he slimed up his fingers with the mess of grimy, grey-green Locust come that was splattered all over the both of them and started jerking himself off, breathing hard. Like he didn't even realize he was doing it. It was great. "He shoved his dick in me and used me like a little fucktoy," Cole said, sliding up to cup Baird's balls. "Just picked me up and sat me down on his dick." Baird moaned, the sound of his strokes loud and slurping, and -- man, Cole could watch him jerk off all day, but they had shit to do. He smacked Baird's cock, slapping it across his chest. "Yeah," he said. "Too bad you missed out on the real fun." "Fuck off," Baird said, scowling. "We gotta get Marcus up, c'mon." Cole shifted, ass squelching; his cheeks and the backs of his thighs were heavy with slime; he reached back to scratch his cheek and just clawed messy furrows in a coagulated ooze. After he stood up he caught Baird just staring at his ass, practically drooling. "C'mon, get your ass up!" Baird bitching and moaning about how _his_ ass hurt, like two Locust dicks were a big deal. Marcus groaning, entire body slathered in chunky Locust come and then painted with red rock dust, straining belly ribboned with fresh stretch marks, sloshing as Cole and Baird levered him up. He was conscious if not alert, just groaning and mumbling, eyes pasted shut from what looked like more than a few comeshots right across his face. slung one arm over each of their shoulders -- slathering more of the gunk he was coated in across them, but by this point they were all pretty much uniformly coated. sprawled on his back on the concrete, legs in the air, hand mirror angled to show his much-abused hole. With the way the imulsion had fucked with the drone, Cole was half-expecting _his_ ass to be lit up with an imulsion-yellow neon glow. But no, he mostly just looked -- used. Hard. The imulsion had stained his skin darker; he could see some of that even without the mirror: his chest and stomach were splattered with splotches of darker skin, a rich purple-black speckled across his stomach, heaviest right in the center of his come-swollen gut, spreading up along his already-thinning stretch marks like somebody had smeared the transformation up along them. The Imulsion that spread through his skin was dilute, just darker patches; the flashes of altered flesh he saw down the crack of his ass were a lot starker. He twisted, angling the mirror differently, and -- yeah. For sure there was a difference, his dark skin really changed around his hole -- not just because he was perpetually gaping, ass lips too bruised to even close, and the slightest stretch pulled his hole so wide he could see up into his guts; with one leg hooked over his arm his hole was an open, yawning tunnel all the way back up to his colon, showing off the raw purple-red flesh of his inner ass, still all bruised and slimy. But the skin around his hole was... rubbery to the touch, thick and pliant, weirdly stretchy when he dug two fingers in and tugged. The lips of his ass were all swollen, forming big meaty ridges, soft and pulpy to the touch, pouting out in a craterlike ridge around his spread-open guts. But the ring was pebbled with big rocky lumps, like Locust had, weird wartlike scutes of hard flesh all across the rim of his ass, and fanning out across his cheeks. More than that, it was discolored: darker, a grey-purple-black. The coloration entirely ringed his ass, spreading up across the root of his cock to the back of his balls in a dappled pattern, and when Cole reached down he could feel the difference: Locust flesh thicker and heavier, more like soft leather; and the sensation was different, glossy with fine hairs, sensation tickling up his spine. Cole shifted his finger back, following the trail of altered skin back and forth, groaning softly as he dug between folds of puffy, still-aching flesh, chasing the hot spark of pleasure, until he realized he was sprawled on his back, mirror long out of sight, three fingers shoved up his ass, cock hard and drooling pre across his stomach. He could feel his prostate, like, properly with his fingers; it was swollen and aching, so huge it bulged out against the wall of his ass. Impossible to miss. And more important now, easy to hit. Cole groaned, digging his fingertips down hard against its puffy swell, light bursting behind his eyes, cock letting loose a huge mess of pre in three gushes that splattered all up and down his chest, most of a load right there save for how he did it all again when he dug back in, bellowing up, asshole spasming around his fingers. more had soaked in overnight; his upper thighs slid together in a way he wasn't used to, balls nearly getting smashed between the suddenly-thicker muscles. Cole sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, making to stand up -- and the clench of his glutes flattened his asshole, sending such a shock of heat through him that he groaned and toppled back, breathing hard. His asshole was just as big as before, if not bigger -- some of the bruised swell traded in for a fresh, springy kind of size. He sat up again, standing slow, groaning as he straightened his back. Even standing straight up, feet close, his asshole pouted out between his cheeks as a big swollen mound of leathery flesh, flattened into a puffy oval.
"Oh, that first clutch was Myrrah's. Not to be touched." Skorge's claws dragged down Marcus' stomach, just enough force to leave ragged red stripes behind. His nipples ached, all six of them now, continually dribbling milky ichor down his stomach and spilling down his legs; Skorge's palm smeared through their tacky lines. "And so you were protected by the eggs you carried within you. But you gave them away, and fell in the Queen's favor, and now you have no eggs but your own." Skorge's fingers wrapped around the base of Marcus' cock, one by one, his cock twitching and drooling red slime all across the floor. "After all, you're just a test subject. Myrrah never saw fit to explain your new biology to you. But I know quite well what it can accomplish. Human and Locust -- close enough, genetically. But to produce offspring, so much has to be changed. And while changing that much, why not find a more general solution?" Skorge stroked him off, palm grinding back to tip. His fingers toyed with Marcus' spikes, tugging at the rim of his cockhead, and Marcus groaned, hips jerking forward, coating his hands in red slime, thick slimy dollops of it squelching between his fingers and drooling down his wrist. "You were bred to be fertile. Anything that plants its seed in you will take -- Human, Locust, or anything between. But not just us. I could breed you with our bloodmounts and you would birth whelps." Skorge grinned, his erect cock drooling against Marcus' thigh -- twitching and spurting pre as he talked, the sheer thought of it nearly bringing him off. Marcus writhed, hunching forward, lost in his haze of lust -- cock trembling, tip furling and unfurling, opening like a hungry mouth. Skorge fed it his fingers, sliding his hand into Marcus' cock, rolling the crest of his knuckles back and forth over the lip. thick grey ooze, shot through with streaks of acid green, glowing dimly. Thick chunks churned of their own volition, immense globs of thicker ooze slowly fusing together and splitting apart, the fluid grotesquely, potently _alive_. "A god," Skorge said. "The worms that live under the world. City-eaters. They sleep for aeons, and their dreams make earthquakes. One woke, not a year ago, and we made contact." "And here we have evoked their issue." Skorge was erect, cock pissing out pre in steady lines, all but slavering in anticipation. "We will have a brood, and you will be the one to birth them. A higher cause than even ending this war." huge tube ending with an industrial cap: not even some kind of locust dildo, just a valve cap, with a pressure-release shunt on the side and two big rubbery rings along the outer edge, looking much more like something intended to keep a watertight seal than be ever used near a person. Skorge guided the thing to Marcus' hole, tugging his shuddering cock-sections out of the way, each touch pulling a wracking sob from Marcus, his hole drooling eagerly against Skorge's hand, his muscles clamping down hard on the tube's end the second Skorge settled it against him, nearly too strong even for Skorge to align it correctly, get it seated solidly in Marcus' hole. But finally a ridge bore down, shoving inside him and forcing its way past the ring of muscle just beyond the base of his split cock, and his next squeeze clenched down hard, all but sucking the tube into place. Then Skorge got out the second one. Marcus groaned, uselessly humping the air, his cock-sections wrapping all along the tube's length, struggling vainly to fuck himself with it. Skorge stepped around him, his dispassionate examination belied somewhat by his twitching, drooling cock, spurting messy gushes of pre all across Marcus' calves as he stepped in close. He shoved the second tube against Marcus' ass, using both hands for a moment to dig into the heavy, bruised meat of his asshole and pry it open, before he shoved the tube in, one hand dragging Marcus' hips back, the other shoving its ridged tip inside, far enough to seal it behind his asshole. Marcus sobbed, plugged on both ends, both shoved just far in for him to clamp down but not far enough to properly fuck him, and both inert. only concession to Marcus' comfort that that one was smaller and rubberier all over, with a slight curve. Marcus opened wide, moans muffled as Skorge shoved the thing in his mouth and a good way down his throat Skorge just stared and stared as the machine pumped: thick, sludgy gouts of ichorous worm come erupting inside Marcus in gushes, more and more and more as he writhed, strung up to the ceiling. Skorge's cock, unattended, was steadily drooling a stream of thick, slimy pre, in a single unbroken strand running from his cocktip to the floor. Skorge's hands were fixed on the pressure controls, knuckles white, even as his cock twitched, sending the line of pre swaying. Marcus' body felt heavy, bearing down on the chain wrapped all around his forearms. His gut rippled, his muscles spasming as they tried to contain the heavy weight growing in his gut, feeding into him three different ways. His blocky, heavy muscles clenched, bulging across his stomach, swell slowly rising beneath them. The flow was implacable and all but infinite, thick tarry masses of the grey come pouring into him, the churning green globs like beads when they burst down his throat, in his ass, or directly into his stretched womb. His gut bloated enormously, more than he'd been even when his clutch was due. If he was still human there would've been no doubt about it; his flesh and muscle and skin would've ripped apart in a bloody mess. But he'd been marinating in Locust hormones for months now, and so instead his skin _stretched_, warping erratically in lopsided fringes. The dense, heavy layer of blubber-like fat packed tight against his thick muscles shuddered and stretched, thinning as his gut expanded, and his skin followed apace as well as it could manage. But Skorge kept it up, his hand on the flow control, pushing it up and up and up, more and more pumping into Marcus' already-swollen body, and eventually something had to give. Marcus' skin stretched taut, puckering awkwardly as his gut shuddered and rippled, until finally it shredded -- slowly, layers of skin tearing apart one after the other, opening a raw, wet rent down his side, revealing brilliantly red new skin dripping ichorous, imulsion-tinged lymph, drooling in beads down the curve of his bloated belly. The new stretch mark tore itself wider, until it was a hand-wide span across his belly, just off-center, burning hot as sweat trickled across the raw flesh. Marcus groaned, muffled, throat working automatically as the endless flow of worm come pumped inside him, more and more. His skin split again, and again, forming a mess of not-quite-overlapping lines running down across his chest and hips, thick cords running down from his pecs, over the lumpy, ballooned mass of his belly, and across over his hips, more and more stretching wider and wider until his gut was more stretch mark than skin, and thick streams of lymph poured down his sides in rivers. The lymph clotted in the open air, fast enough that it turned into pebbly, frozen beads along his sides, forming bristly stalactites on the underside of his gut, slowly growing longer and thicker as his skin shredded wider. Skorge kept upping the flow, more and more until the simple constraints of human -- not-so-human, now -- biology got in the way. Marcus choked, pain rippling up his gut as he coughed and gagged, and a frothy mess of come erupted around the plug shoved into his mouth, sloppy streamers drooling from his nose. His convulsion bore down on the plugs in his ass and cunt, forcing them the slightest bit loose, enough for a sharp eruption of come to spray out from his overstuffed holes, splattering all down his legs and the ground around him out for a few feet. Skorge seemed entranced, just staring still, shuddering on his feet, his gasping breath audible even over the _thump-thump-thump_ of the pump's pistons. His fingers cranked the pressure up higher, even with half of it erupting out of Marcus' holes, and finally the pressure-release valves kicked in, snapping open and sending enormous walls of sludgy gunk spraying all over, up into the air, to the side. The plug shoved in his ass had had its valve angled nearly directly down, and so the wave of pressurized come blasted into the ground and sprayed back up in an enormous fountain, coating every inch of Marcus' skin with thick, tarry cords, burning outlining a perfect map of the mess of stretch marks across his heaving gut. Skorge on his knees, huffing and panting, humping Marcus' thighs as he sloppily ate out his hole, tongue dragging between the folds of his split cock and coming away painted in grey come. Marcus' mouth open and drooling, a steady pressure wrapping around the back of his head, his throat: Skorge's huge hands cradling his head like a thrashball as he skewered his cock down Marcus' throat, the entire drooling thing sliding into his mouth in a single thrust. Skorge roared, panting and foaming, mind lost in his religious ecstasy. Just mindlessly thrusting down Marcus' throat, hammering the bloated folds of his cunt against his lips. He came almost instantly, gushing his grimy load straight into Marcus' stomach, mixing with the heavy, tarry weight of the worm's come inside him already. Marcus gagged, overfilled stomach lurching hard, and he vomited up a tarry mess of come, erupting out around Skorge's cock, spurting from his nose, smearing in a frothy mess all over their bodies. The stringy worm come caught in Marcus' throat, forming viscous ropes that spanned from his mouth all the way down into his stomach; the drag of slime pouring from his mouth pulling more up his throat, and he gagged again, spewing chunks of coagulated come all across Skorge's thighs, into his cunt, splattering all over the ground. If anything that seemed to heighten Skorge's orgasm, staring down at his own load intermingling with his god's, watching its grimy jizz splatter up across his skin with each sick, warbling heave Marcus made. He ground his cock deeper into Marcus' throat, making sure he'd keep gagging, and used his other hand to smear the frothy mess up across his stomach and chest, squelching semisolid glowing green chunks under his palm. He fucked Marcus' face, making deep, guttural grunts and groans, not only until he'd stopped coming -- not that Marcus could tell, vomiting up a wash of come continually -- but until his cock was rubbery and limp, pulpy and heavy in Marcus' throat, warping and folding when he shoved it back inside. He smeared the mess of come up his chest, across his face, and dragged a hand across his open and panting maw -- that, more than anything else, was what got him to pull out of Marcus' throat. Skorge groaned, sucking chunks of worm jizz off his fingers, practically gnawing on his hand to scrape it all into his mouth. Skorge let his cock spill out of Marcus' mouth -- leaving Marcus gasping and panting, each breath interrupted by another heave, vomiting up corded masses of come, all veined through with glowing green ooze -- and tossed Marcus aside. Marcus hit the ground with a meaty _thud_, his cock painfully pinned under his own bulk. He groaned, bound arms underneath his head -- his ass ached, the metal of Skorge's tubes nothing like a solid, heavy cock inside him, pumping and throbbing. He was splayed out, legs spread, ass in the air, and in his frenzy Skorge dove onto him, clawed fingers scratching across his hairy cheeks and shoving into his slimy hole. Skorge splayed his fingers, spreading Marcus' cheeks, and after such heavy use Marcus' hole simply gaped out, tarry lines of worm come slowly drooling out from inside. The bruised, swollen flesh of his ass slowly spilled out of him, folding over itself in meaty slabs until it felt like his guts were hanging out of him, a meaty block of purpled flesh spilling over Skorge's fingers. Skorge drooled and spat, mouth kissing the flesh of Marcus' busted ass, lapping up the smears of divine worm come as he smeared his tongue across Marcus' cheek, the slimy muscle pressing against the rim of his hole and then shoving deep inside, spraying a mess of come back across Skorge's face. He moaned, the sound a roar through Marcus' bones, and pressed his face against Marcus' ass in an obscene kiss, panting and moaning as he drank down the tarry sludge, throat jogging as he gulped and gulped and gulped the endless flow pouring out of Marcus' overstuffed body. His cock, limp and drooping from his cunt, pressed against the back of Marcus' thigh, drooling watery pre in a river that streamed down his leg. Skorge wrapped his fingers around Marcus' prolapse, brutalized flesh bulging between his fingers, and shoved into the sloppy tunnel of his wrecked ass. He jerked himself off with Marcus' guts, both hands clenching and working his shaft through the swollen layer of flesh, panting and snorting like an animal. He squeezed down, Marcus' pulped guts a thick, bruised layer of flesh between his cock and his fingers, flesh bulging out between his fingers in vivid purple seams. Each gush of pre splattered across the inner flesh of Marcus' ass, slowly smearing into a gurgling, sloppy slurry of Skorge's pre and the worm god's come. A squirt of ooze splattered out across Skorge's thighs, and he let go of Marcus' guts just long enough to drag his palm across his thighs and raise it to his mouth, moaning in devotion as he drank down the dregs of the worm god's load.
he looked like a fucking gorilla, was what. He'd soaked up imulsion fresh from Cole's ass, and that meant everywhere from his pecs up was the charred-looking black flesh familiar to the lambent drones. And not just that, but lambent locust got _huge_, and this guy had swelled up as well, muscles blown up to practically twice their original, already-giant size. His biceps were bigger than his thighs; his pecs were bigger than Marcus' budding breasts; his neck and back were made from enormous curving slabs of muscle, traps spread out from his neck like wings, bulging every time his arms moved. He wasn't all the way there; not quite glowing through yet, but he was webbed with veins, thick cords across his shoulders and down his arms, and they were glowing through his skin. It seemed like a miracle he could even stand upright when he was so top-heavy. His head was... altogether more alien, all black char and glowing yellow eyes, the inner flesh of his mouth glowing bright when he grinned at them. Cole's hole burned, a hot itch buzzing up inside him. Like his body wanted to see if the drone could pull off the same trick twice. Baird kinda mumbling to himself as the drone talked. He visibly balked when his head caught up to what he was translating, face flushing. "Woah, fuckin' hell, there's no way I'm saying _that_, that's--" and was cut off by the raucous laugher of Tai and his fucking _harem_. Tai called out: "He's saying next time he wants to go in feet-first and see if he can get his dick in you that way!", mixed in with roars and whooping from his drones. The drone jerked his head in Tai's direction, reaching down to cup the bulge of his cock, and fuck, hey... "You _can't_ be thinking about it, you freak," Baird said, and that cemented it, even though honestly he was gonna go for it anyway. "Yeah," Cole said. "Let's do it." Tai's group fucking _cheered_. "But y'know, I been thinking about it, and fairs fair; I wanna get at least two fists up your ass." Cole knocked shoulders against Baird. "Cmon, translate." "Fucking hell," Baird muttered. "'Fisting' is --" Tai yelled, and then some guttural crunching came out of his throat. Baird translated, unenthusiastically. Cole said, "Hey, you can watch if you wanna," and while Baird didn't visibly perk up or anything, he kinda furrowed his brow and stumbled over his next roars, refusing to actually make eye contact with anybody. "Man, for somebody so into freaky shit, you got such a stick up your ass about it." He leered. "I bet we could root it out if you let us. Whattya think," he said, leaning in, arm wrapped around Baird's shoulder, pressing into the flushed skin all across the back of his neck. "The two of us wrecking your ass, me and his hands all up in them guts." Baird knocked him aside. "Fuck off," he said, but then five seconds later he tried to unobtrusively adjust his cock since he was getting hard. Cole snorted. "Offer's open," he said, and Baird refused to say anything, but Cole knew they probably had him. --- feet were -- spreadier. Cole'd never really paid that much attention to Locust feet before, since up until about a day ago he'd never anticipated trying to shove some up his ass. But in addition to being just generally huge -- that went without saying, for the Locust -- they were, or at least this one specific Drone's were practically spread out like hands. Big toe not quite opposable, but aside from that they spread out enormously wide. The drone was curling his toes in anticipation, his clawlike toenails catching the light, leathery flesh shifting. Cole swallowed. "So how we gonna do this?" --- The drone roared, hips and stomach convulsing as Cole worked the imulsion into his already-swollen prostate, mashing the ooze right against the pulsing nut. "Now you know how it feels," he said, grinning down, fingers circling around the swelling girth and then stabbing against the center, watching a wash of grimy pre spray all across the drone's stomach. wasn't sure if it was because he was a locust or just because he'd already gotten a heavy dose of imulsion or what, but when Cole pried the drone's asshole open wider he could _see_ his prostate. All the flesh of his ass was dimly glowing, purple-grey flesh sheened with imulsion, but aside from the lumpy, fist-sized bulge distending the rippling flesh of the drone's guts there was the glow, a muted yellow-gold shine burning through his skin, pulsing and rippling as his prostate spasmed. Cole fed the glow, scooping up chunky globs of imulsion and smearing them across the burgeoning heft of the drone's prostate. --- Cole compared hands with the drone. "I guess me first, then you, then both?" Baird's asshole was this tiny little pink pucker nestled delicately between his hairy-blond cheeks. Pristine. Untouched. Well, besides all the times he'd gotten fucked, but clearly that hadn't been _enough_. Calling him a tight-ass wasn't just saying something about his attitude. Cole looked over at the locust. "So you got another thing of imulsion around?" He mimed smearing something across his fist and forearm. The drone laughed and nodded, reaching back-- "Oh, no fucking way are you pouring that shit in me," Baird said, looking back. "Don't be a fucking freak about it; just use goddamn lube like god intended." Cole laughed and shrugged. "Man, I seen you checking out my ass like every goddamn day since we got back. It'd do you some good." But whatever, he knew where Baird kept his lube; that would be fine. "Relax," Cole said. Baird whined again. "Easy for _you_ to say!" So Cole decided to give him a swat, smacking his other hand across his hairy asscheek. Baird made a sound that was half groan and half sudden exhale, shoulders dropping down and ass grinding back against Cole's hand almost automatically. a big meaty blossom spilling out between his cheeks, guts prolapsing into a stubby cone. Even his _guts_ were tight, clinging to his ass, a taut bud of raw red flesh. Cole wrapped his hands around it and squeezed, gently, massaging lube into the rubbery flesh. Baird was just gasping, head pillowed against his forearms, breathing fast and hard. looking at Baird's gaping ass, slimy runnels of lube spilling down between the grooves of his bloated asslips, cords webbed across the inner flesh. "Think we should fuck him?" Cole said, to the drone, and then to Baird: "Think we should fuck you?" milked Baird's cock for his load, most of it still stuck in the bloated pipe of his urethra; Cole ran a thumb down along it, hand pressed against Baird's cockhead, letting the thick come spill across his palm, and then used that to lube up his own dick. Not that he'd need it. Baird sobbing, face sweaty and tear-stained, riding both their cocks with a wailing groan each time they smacked down against his ass, hilting inside him. He was panting, drooling across the drone's chest. "Come in me," he whined. "Fuckin' please, please, c'mon, come in me," just over and over, mumbled and inarticulate, slurred as he dragged his lips across the drone's chest, practically chewing on his leathery hide.
[ BACK AT BASE: anthony "tony" carmine shows up. instead of being dead! he's been turned into a huge sire-esque monster, like, one of the locust's first tries at turning humans into locust, just by shoving a bunch of imulsion into them. huge back muscles, claws, skin turned into rocky spikes in patches. imulsion drool/come. ] some big fucking monster. Like, the Locust got big and freakish-looking, no doubt, but this guy hardly even looked all that humanoid anymore. He had quills instead of hair, in a spiky mat that went all down his neck and then spread out over his shoulders, and his skin was this pallid, grubby white, with deep rippling grooves of stretch marks all over, dark grey and so widely-seamed that the flesh within them was recessed a half-inch and striated. Spiky grey barbs erupted out from his skin in asymmetrical bursts -- left arm, right hip, left shoulder, right calf, and so on. He had a mouth full of fangs, giant and chunky, and the inner flesh of his mouth glowed yellow, like a lambent Locust. He ran on all fours, and his feet had grown out into big, reptilian-looking paws, widely-spread with green-grey flesh webbed between them. His hands were ludicrously oversized, and tipped with-- not claws; the Locust had claws, this guy had... huge spurs, like his fingers were encased in stone, like twice as long as fingers and thicker too. He was huge all over, the muscles of his back so gigantic he hardly had a neck. His biceps were the same size as his thighs, and the both of them were just about as thick around as Cole's chest. He had a _tail_, a stubby triangular thing bulging out from the base of his spine, just above the waist of his pants. His pants, because... he was shirtless, because there was no way in hell anything would fit across his chest, but somebody at some point, maybe the monster himself, had managed to stretch some pants over his thighs, what was presumably the biggest COG regulation size, but with the zipper open to add more slack, and big rents made along the legs to help them fit, and even then they only barely covered his crotch and the tops of his thighs. "What the fuck is _that_," Dom whispered, looking between the big monster and Carmine, like gauging if they should get in the way. "He's a Sire," Baird said, like it was obvious. And then to the rest of them looking at him: "What, you didn't recognize that shit? I know for a goddamn fact you've all gotten briefed on Sires." Cole rolled his eyes. "You gonna make us read an abstract before we can jerk off to this?" "Oh, fuck off. You get off on this shit?" "Man, look at 'em making out, tell me that's not hot." Cole gestured. The rest of them turned back -- Carmine had his mouth open, and Tony -- Anthony? Anthony Carmine? -- had his maw open, glowing, warted tongue spilling out and lashing the air for a moment, like he was tasting it, before he plunged it into Carmine's mouth in an explosion of goo. Raw imulsion spit, excess burbling over his lips, down his chin. Carmine moaned, wet and gurgling, and pressed himself against Tony's bulk, eyes closed, sucking on Tony's monstrous tongue. His throat warped, maybe just gulping down spit at first, but then it became clear Tony was shoving his tongue down his throat. "Woah," Dom said. "That's his brother, right?" "That's fucking hot," Cole said, and grinned when Dom and Baird looked over at him. "I always wanted to fuck twins, you know?" "They sure as shit ain't twins, dumbass," Baird said. Cole shrugged. "They might've been, I guess. Close enough for me. Wonder if they'd let me join in." Tony pulled back from their kiss, tongue sliding and sliding and sliding out of Carmine's mouth until the tip finally pulled free with an explosion of imulsion spit. Carmine drew in a ragged breath, panting, while Tony twisted around him, licking down his side. Tony's tongue had to be a good two, three feet long. Apparently Tony wanted to get down to business, fast. He groped Carmine's ass, huge clawed paw digging into the hairy cleft of his ass, and then he lifted Carmine up just by that, immense muscles on his arm barely straining. He settled Carmine on his lap, the lump of his cock huge -- Carmine ground down on his brother's cock, pulling back from their kiss to moan, and Tony licked down his neck, coating his skin in imulsion sheen. "Yeah, c'mon, get his cock out," Cole groaned, eyes fixed on the massive mound in Tony's tattered pants, groping his cock. "You're a fucking freak," Baird said. "Man, if you're not into it you can always leave. You're here staring too."
[ clayton carmine shows up all "time to fuck up some locust" and is confronted w/ ben carmine basically begging for his dick. also i guess maybe anthony carmine rather than getting killed ended up as some sire-eqsue first experiment w/ human/locust crossover and is basically a huge monster w/ like huge rocky spikes. anyway they're both like "yessss c'mon brother fuck us" and clayton is like "better dead than one of the locust" and cole (who is also there) is like, man that's pretty fucked up; just go and fuck yr brothers cmon, i wanna watch ] "What'd you fucking to do him?!" "He's in heat, man." "_Heat_?!" "Yeah, heat. He needs to get _fucked_. More than usual. Comes with the augments." Clayton was just staring. Or at least, his helmeted head was fixed on Carmine on the bed, grunting and huffing and whining, playing with the head of his cock while Tony finger-fucked him. Carmine looked up -- Ben Carmine, that was; Cole still wasn't used to having Tony around, much less this other one -- and whined. "Clay," he said, eyes unfocused, face red with a blotchy flush. "Clay, please--" he cut off in a high whine when Tony shoved his fingers deeper, immense clawed hand swallowed up by his hungry ass. "Fuck me, please, I need it!" He collapsed, ass in the air, rutting back against Tony's hand, high mewls bursting from his throat, cock gushing sludgy orange pre. "He only went in a few days ago. First time. Fuck, you're lucky you got here so early; he's still _vocal_. Marcus' first time, hell. He was fucking mindless, couldn't think about anything but getting filled with cock." "You're fucking -- this is fucking disgusting. They're fucking _monsters_!" "Oh, whatever, like you ain't never run into any of those imulsion-altered soldiers COG started churning out at the end. This is just the next step." Cole paused for a second. "But really? You're not happy your bros are alive and well?" -- "_Well!_" Clayton nearly screamed, hands tensed like he was gonna take a swing, but Cole just ignored him -- "You can even go talk to them, have your big happy family reunion." Cole slapped him on the bicep, his big _in loving memory: anthony / benjamin_ piece: "Maybe get an alteration." "Better dead than fucking -- this shit!" Cole let out a low whistle. "Harsh, man. Be glad they're both pretty out of it, or else brother or not they'd probably beat your ass." "They're mindless monsters! All he can think about is taking grub dick!" "Yeah, it's pretty hot, huh? Fuck, your boy Ben has got an ass on him. If you're really that worried, well... Get him through his heat and you can talk about it." Cole tipped his head towards Carmine, sobbing as Tony worked his asshole back and forth. "Kid gets to get fucked, and we all gotta help him out, y'know?" Cole said it with a huge, shit-eating grin of his face, just goading Clayton on on purpose. "You're not a fucking-- This is fucking _sick_, y'all lining up to fuck some fucking-- mutated monster! What, you do it too? Get your dick wet in a fucking grub asshole?" "You asking if I fucked your little bro?" Cole asked, smirking. "Man, I been all over that shit. Once I shoved nearly my entire goddamn arm up his ass; he fucking loved it." Clayton _did_ take a swing at him, screaming, but Cole just caught it, shoved Clayton up against the wall, hand pinned against his back. "What, jealous?" he said, hissing into his ear. "You heard Carmine -- Ben, I mean. Any time you wanna fuck him, he'd be glad to let you." He trailed his hand down, groping Clayton through his slacks. "You gonna give it a go, or just leave him begging for it?" "Fucking' christ," Clayton swore, angrily tossing his chestpiece aside, gauntleted fingers curling into his undershirt and physically tearing it off, fabric ripping across his chest. He tossed it aside, chest heaving -- blond and hairy, just like his brothers, and twice as ripped. Twice as ripped as they'd been when they were human at least; now he was the smallest in the room. He was thickly tattooed, more than just his _in memoriam_ piece for Andrew and Ben: a messy patchwork, GRUB KILLER in block letters up his side, THETA-FIVE beneath it; decapitated locust head stabbed through with steel girders over his left pec; a huge chest piece of crossed swords, with roses and thorns wrapped around the hilts; cursive script reading ONLY THE GOOD DIE YOUNG just above the waist of his slacks; a half-dozen more across his sides and back. His nipples were double-pierced, with enormous finger-thick gauges, like he'd just shoved a rod of rebar through them. The flesh of his nipples were red and thick, protruding in fat cones from his muscled pecs. but man, Cole was not expecting the _thing_ that flopped out when Clayton shoved down his slacks. His cock was... heavy, and unexpectedly shiny. It _clattered_, a dozen piercings all knocking against each other, making his cock look about half metal. He had a huge padlock piercing through his cockhead: the metal hoop coming out just under his cockhead and locked together with a boxy rectangular weight, heavily weighing his limp cock down as his cock flopped out. Past that, the underside of his cock was a series of lumps warped out around a fat frenum ladder running the whole length of his shaft: huge rebar-sized barbells of shining steel, ends capped like they were rivets, flaring out even wider in a fat rim. Past the base of his shaft his piercings got harsher: more barbells ran along the seam of his balls, only these ones extended out wider and ended in sharp spear-tips at the ends, running in neat even lines all the way back behind his balls. They were all hugely thick, something like 0000-gauge, each one thicker than a finger and utterly wrecking the shape of his cock. "Man, that's some heavy shit," Cole said, staring down at Clayton's cock. "Messed up." "_That's_ messed up?!" he said, gesturing over at the other two Carmines, Anthony's gigantic hand shoved right up Ben's ass, idly pumping in and out while they both watched Clayton strip, knuckles shoving in past his puffy ring with a wet slurp each time. "One of my Cougar buds had piercings like that," Cole said, grabbing Clayton's cock like it was nothing and tugging it up, fingers running down the huge rebar-pierced ladder. "He got them caught on his zipper once and pulled too hard and tore his dick apart. He had to get it stitched up, man! He couldn't fuck anybody for a year after that, just 'cause he'd got so traumatized." Cole's hand was steady on his cock, stroking softly, palm butting against the tip; Clayton snarled and shoved him off, cock clattering as it swung down, still fattening against his thigh. shorter than Carmine -- Ben -- had been, but thicker. The piercings fit, at least. He was a handful and a half, Cole's fingers wrapping around his cockhead-and-piercing, metal hot and slick. But _brutally_ thick, fat as a clenched fist. Compared to that thickness, the added strain of the piercings, well, they didn't seem so huge when he was hard. Clayton groaned, wailed really, hips humping up into Cole's hands, cock drooling pre across his palms, his strokes slurping as he kept pumping, a wet _shluck shluck shluck_. "Man, for saying this shit is sick you sure got into it fast," Cole said, grinning up at Clayton's still-helmeted face, and then over to Anthony and Ben, staring. Ben was drooling, breathing fast, swallowing like he was envisioning getting to suck Clayton's cock. "You really never thought about it? On the battlefield, all those Locust...? Never thought about it? Not even any revenge fantasies where you fuck 'em?" "You're fucking disgusting," Clayton snarled, but his cock pulsed in Cole's hands, a sloppy gush of pre spraying everywhere, fountaining out around the huge prince albert. "Fuck that!" Clayton yelled, shoving Cole out of the way. His entire body ached, heat burning up and down his front; his cock was so hard it hurt. His fat length shuddered with his frenzied heartbeat and spurted tiny arcs of pre every time -- every time anything at all happened: Cole's hands catching on his sweaty skin; when he stared directly at Ben's ass swallowing Tony's paw; when the sharp, acrid sting of sex burst in his nose, any of it. "If anybody's gonna fuck him, it's gonna be me!" Cole grinned at him; Clayton knew he'd been played, but he couldn't find it in him to care. Not with-- not when-- "What, you're not gonna take off your helmet?" Cole asked, hands on the back of his neck, digging against the latch. Clayton shoved him back: "Fuck off." Cole shrugged. "Whatever, man. Carmine -- I mean, your bro Ben -- likes it that way too." He grinned, goading. "I wanna see the two of you make out. Don't see what you guys see in those things." Tony pulled his fingers out with a wet slurp, syrupy orange-red imulsion slime drooling from Ben's ravaged ass. Clayton took another sluggish step forward, cord of pre clinging tight to his fat, flushed cockhead jiggling. Tony's fingers skimmed over Ben's back -- _he really is burning up_ he found himself thinking, heat rippling up from him, sweat sheening his sides -- and then gripped, digging into the thick, heavy meat of his ass. He was panting hard -- they all were, Ben all but gasping, Tony making heavy wet snuffling breaths -- and his chest rose and fell, breath fogging up the visor of his helmet, fuzzing the edges of Ben's ass with a rainbow sheen. Then Tony reached out, massive hand curling around Clayton's cock, each finger a massive, implacable band digging into his shaft, skewing his piercings. It was hot and slimy, thick ooze smeared all over his monstrous hand, and he worked it across Clayton's cock until he was just as slick, fat beads splattered up in his pubes or across his thighs, sloppy runnels of brilliant orange-red slime streaming down his balls. The touch pulled him forward, the next step slapping his cock across Ben's cheek, and he groaned, moaning and sobbing, shoving his ass back and nearly knocking Clayton backwards. prince albert digging into the puffy flesh of Ben's asshole, dragging his unfurled flesh minutely back and forth as Clayton shoved his cock down, slotting it into place: his cockhead resting against the lower rim of Ben's broken hole, gaping so wide even his fist-thick cockhead didn't plug it. thinking only of the scrape as he fed his cock into Ben, each fat barbell catching on the rim of his ass and only lurching in only after he bore down harder, one after the other until he was balls deep. He slid back, watching it happen in reverse, barbells catching on inside, bulging Ben's swollen asshole out until it gave up, sloppy ass-flesh peeling off his cock, piercings emerging slick with imulsion slime. Tony was at his shoulder, pressed against his back, just watching; his glowing eyes fixed on Ben as he writhed, shoving himself backwards against the sheets to suck up more of Clayton's cock, huffing and panting. immense thing grinding against his side, spilling brilliant imulsion-yellow pre down his side. Tony growled, rutting up and down, and his cock slid up the small of Clayton's back, pulled back down to settle between the cheeks of his ass. Clayton snarled and knocked Tony's cock aside: "There's no fucking way you're gonna put that thing in me, motherfucker." {UH EXCUSE ME HES STILL GOT HIS HELMET ON} Tony laughed, a wet-sounding broken choke, and leaned forward, cradling Clayton's head in his huge claws, tipping his head up to kiss him messily, slavering mouth opening wide, tongue licking over his lips before he shoved inside, flooding Clayton's mouth with imulsion drool. Clayton gurgled, swallowing and sputtering, eyes watering from the sting. Tony pulled back, leaving a scummy line of viscous ooze hanging between them, snapping and splattering down across Clayton's shoulder. Tony peeled away from his sides, the burning imulsion-heat leaving. Tony pressed his face against Clayton's back, slavering as he slumped down, kneeling behind him. His claws raked down Clayton's sides until he reached his ass, claws digging in and spreading his cheeks. Tony shoved his face against his crack, tongue lolling out to lap back and forth across his asshole, imulsion drool squelching. Clayton groaned, hole spasming, hips jerking forward to bury his cock to the root inside Ben. Tony's breath was hot against his asshole, tongue slowly pushing through the barrier of his asshole, wet and slick as Tony breached inside him, huge fangs grazing his cheeks as he started sloppily fucking him with his tongue, sloppily fucking him with his tongue, drool spilling down to his balls. Clayton's cock throbbed, pulsing in time with the pressure of Tony's cock against his prostate, and Clay shoved forward, slamming into Ben to the root, and spread his legs, leaning forward, giving Tony more room to suck on his asshole. Tony laughed, the breath from his wet chuckle steaming across his balls, drawn up tight under his cock. He pinned Ben, chest pressed against his back, fat nipples catching on his sweaty flesh, grinding slowly. He thrust shallowly, keeping his cock fully embedded in his brother, only slowly rutting back and forth while Tony fucked his hole, tongue folding over itself as he shoved it past his spasming ring, thick imulsion drool soaking inside him, spilling down the curve of his ass to coat his balls, thick slime dripping to the floor in fat dollops. prince albert catching on the rim of Ben's ass when he pulled out and pulling his hole inside-out, a wet pile of pulsing red flesh sucking on his cockhead, slurping when he pulled all the way free. could watch his pre thicken, going from clear to a thick off-white, spurting over Ben's prolapsed asshole in glistening strings. Tony ground his fingers deep into Clayton's ass, smearing grubby pre into the walls of his ass. His ass burned, heat soaking into his flesh and {narrowing??} in on his prostate, flooding it with imulsion. His prostate lurched, throbbing like a second heart, and his cock sprayed a thick mess of gleaming pre across Ben's back with each pulse, piling up across his sweaty flesh and spilling down his sides. tongue slopping over his helmet, drool coating the outside and oozing in through the ear holes and mouth slats, filling his nose with the burning stench of his acrid saliva. Tony opened wide, wetly sucking on the lower rim of his helmet, down where it pressed against his neck, huge fangs digging into his skin. A constant stream of drool spilled down his back, slurping between his cheeks and spilling over Tony's huge cockhead, held up against his gaping ass, wetly crackling as imulsion poured out around Tony's fingers. His fingers ground over Clayton's balls, working the thick slime into his skin. His balls lurched, churning, fiery imulsion burn sizzling up, like fat fingers reaching up from them, hooking onto something inside him. His cock pulsed, hosing Ben down with grimier and grimier bursts of tainted pre as Tony worked more and more into him. Clayton groaned, sagging forward against Ben's back, hips raggedly jerking forward, smearing the taut dome of his cockhead against Ben's oozing prolapse, smearing through his own sloppy mess of slimy yellowed pre. Tony's fingers dug deeper into his ass, clawed fingertips tracing the rim of his ass, working over the sensitive flesh of his ring. Clayton groaned, spreading his legs further, all but spread-eagled on top of Ben, his cock still lodged deep inside him as Tony played with his ass, sloppily finger-fucking him. Tony sunk his fingers in, claws curling around the rim of Clayton's hole, and pulled, slowly but steadily, spreading his asshole until it gaped, the outside air cold against his inner flesh. Tony spat, a messy mouthful of slobbery imulsion spit dribbling over his fingers and slurping into his ass, crackling as he fucked his fingers back and forth, letting Clayton's hole close before working it open again, back and forth until it felt inflamed, skin bruised and puffy, engorged. Tony's cock rammed right against his swollen, transformed prostate, cock lurching and erupting in a gush of slimy pre, painting Ben from head to ass in the thick, tarry sludge. Tony's cock flared inside him, spitting out a thick, coagulated blob of ooze, thrusts mashing it against the wall of Clayton's ass. He hissed at the pain, fiery heat soaking down through his ass, gnawing at his prostate as it lurched and bloated, flesh growing heavy. Tony pulled out all the way, spraying chunky sludge on the crack of Clayton's ass, letting it slowly drool down to his balls, leaving a burning trail all the way down. Huge claws wrapped around his taut sac, smearing the sludge over his skin, spreading the imulsion burn. Clayton huffed, hissing in pain as his balls soaked up the heat, sinking into him until it hit some core and his balls _lurched_. He groaned, low, spread out on top of Ben panting and groaning as Tony kneaded his balls, cock spraying layer after layer of grimy sludge over his skin, slurping and crackling between his claws. His balls churned, squirming like living things. It _hurt_, a pressure growing inside them, stronger and stronger until it felt like they were gonna burst apart in Tony's hands. They _stretched_, new shapes swelling under his skin, seaming through the thinning flesh of his balls, stretching out into grotesque shapes, lopsided and lumpy. Imulsion pumped through the cords of his sac, stretching them into longer and longer folds, bloating his sac into a mess of shifting flesh. Tony rutted into him, cockhead ramming into his ass, pumping a shot or two of hot slime all across his mutating walls, and then he pulled out, painting his spread cheeks with fresh slime, letting it drool down his inner thighs, letting it spill across his bloated, inhuman balls. Tony did it over and over, just teasing Clayton with the tip as he fed him more and more imulsion, slime gurgling inside him, pumping him full of it, until his ass was a broken mess, scummy chunks of congealed ooze slurping out and layering his skin from ass to knees in a gritty, sludgy mess of corded ooze. Clayton's cock spat, pre burning yellow and sludgy-thick, threaded grey, fat pellets of greenish gunk working up his shaft, catching on his prince albert. Tony's hands were on his transformed balls, still smearing the tacky slime across them, following their asymmetrical curves as they filled out, hanging heavy like lead weights. Clayton could feel slime bubble up in them, dense flesh oozing tarry grime, pulsing up through the mess of cords filling his transformed sac, hot as it pumped up inside him, finally gushing in pulses from his cock. Things inside him were blossoming, heat spilling inside him, like curling fronds opening wide. Muscles spasmed, like an orgasm but not, and his cock spat out a thick string of grey ooze, smacking against Ben's already-slathered asscheek and sticking there. He could feel his cock thicken, the fat flange along the underside growing still fatter -- he could feel the entire column of flesh thicken, spreading out, making his skin shift over the growing bulk. His cockslit spread wider, spewing out chunkier slime, big green clots splattering over Ben's skin. Clayton kept rutting against him, the now-brutal weight of his mutated cockhead grinding smearing into a thick paste. Clayton grabbed his cock -- its heft strange and inhuman in his hand, way thicker than what he was used to -- and traced the folds of Ben's gaping prolapse, slowly focusing in on his ruined hole. Clayton slid balls-deep into him effortlessly, and his cock spasmed again, painting Ben's guts with a mess of come without alleviating any of the frenzy that was burning through Clayton's body. "More!" Clayton groaned, rutting back against Tony, his monstrous cock still just toying with him, slathering him in ooze without ever pushing deeper. "C'mon, fuck me hard!" Tony obliged, finally. His claws curled around Clayton's hip, spanning up his chest, and he shoved in. His asshole was slack, gaping, drenched in slimy come already, and Tony's first thrust stabbed deep into his ass, sliding along Clayton's ass until his cockhead rammed against the opening to his guts. Clayton howled, cock erupting come into Ben's ass again, rubbery asshole squeezing down on Tony's cock, just managing to squirt out a mess of slime. Tony ground forward, giant body looming over him, cock a giant spire only barely stuck inside him. His cockhead worked up and down inside Clayton's ass, dragging over the clenched opening. Clayton'd never had anything this deep inside him, and the sensations were new and strange, a knot of muscle that Tony's cockhead was battering against, digging into. As Tony bathed it in slime, it slowly flowered open, letting the gnarled dome of his cockhead an iota deeper, plunging into what for a moment felt like a tight, clenching tunnel before he pushed all the way through. Like a second asshole, an actually tight one, a foot-and-change up inside his ass. Clayton bellowed, throwing his head back, as Tony shoved in deeper, cock sliding up into his guts, ironing them out, pushing them to become a single, straight passage. Opening them for his cock, as he fed more and more of his monstrous shaft into Clayton's swollen, puffy asshole. Clayton's bellow became more of a ragged groan, bringing one hand up to press against his stomach. There was no sign of Tony's monstrous shaft, yet, but he could feel an internal pressure against his clenched abs; the sheer bulk of Tony's shaft was reorganizing his guts, pushing them out against the underside of his abs. He groaned, abs shuddering as Tony kept sliding into him, cock plunging into him so deep it felt like it was going to come out his mouth. The shaft sliding into him now was warted, bloated even wider with a mess of boils and blisters, and dimly Clayton realized that meant Tony was halfway in -- only halfway, now, with so much more to go. Even with the increased thickness, shaft bulging with veins and coated in leathery warts and boils, his asshole was slack and spread, flesh plush and satiny, spreading easily around his enormous shaft. Tony rutted forward, cock smacking against his diaphragm, and Clayton's breath rushed out of his body in a _whoof_. He gasped, struggling to inhale with Tony's gnarled cockhead pressing sliding yet deeper, keeping his diaphragm from flexing and pulling in air. He gurgled, choking on nothing, until Tony shifted his hips and his cock angled forward, letting him suck in a mouthful of air even as pressure blossomed against his ribs. Clayton groaned, body reaching its limit -- cockhead threading his guts, bashing up against the organs inside his ribcage. Tony angled again, giant claws adjusting Clayton's body as easily as he would a doll, tilting him back so his helmeted head came to rest across Tony's chest, and angling the implacable rod of his cock down, digging hard against Clayton's abs. He looked down, visor a blurred mess of fog, just seeing a mess of flesh tones. But it was impossible to ignore the sensation: Tony's cock pushing forward, fighting against his clenching, spasming abs. His guts felt like they were unspooling, untethered in his guts, just wrapped tight around Tony's fat cock, bunching and sliding. Clayton clenched his abs, keeping his core tight, and Tony's thrust rode up to smack hard against his ribs, making him groan. Tony bore down, cock overpowering the muscles of his clenched gut, until finally Clayton gave up with a ragged wheeze and let his muscles go slack, Tony's cock jabbing forward like a punch to the gut, bloating his skin out in a warped mound. Clayton let out a groan, body warping, guts slithering inside him like snakes, as Tony drove forward, lumpy warts popping through the slack ring of his asshole, cockhead bulging out beyond his ribs, only thinly sheathed in skin and muscle and guts. He entire body deformed around Tony's cock, the squirming mound across his gut pushing out further, further, further, and dragging his bruised muscles with it. He pressed a hand to the tip: he could feel each spurt of ooze, cockhead throbbing like a second heart, drooling slime down his ravaged guts, soaking into his flesh. fully impaled on the giant, grotesque spire of Tony's cock, feet barely touching the ground, practically held aloft by Tony's hips grinding into his ass, cock anchoring him in place. He gasped for air, body hardly even looking human any more caught on Tony's cock, stomach bulging out two feet in front of him in a warped, misshapen spire of twisted flesh. His tainted come soaked through his skin, making it thicker, more rubbery, the flesh all across his gut becoming leathery and thick, tinging grey-green-brown. pulled out with a sickening pop and a spray of come, a thick waterfall of green-grey come drooling from Clayton's ravaged ass, punctuated by thick glowing yellow chunks of coagulated imulsion, and then his hands were at work: one feeding the mess back into his ass, the other smearing sloppy trails all over his bloated, burning balls; both of them working more and more imulsion-laced slime into his altered flesh, mashing the chunky ooze into a dense, creamy mess that he smeared all across him, inside and out, until that was all Clayton could feel: the burn sizzling back and forth, surges rushing between his rubbery asshole, his grotesquely-swollen prostate, his gnarled, bloated balls, everything soaking in the slime and warping, growing, changing. His own cock was practically pissing out tainted slime, yellow ooze threaded through with opaque grey lines, all of it greasy and slick as it spilled in an endless flow from Ben's gaping ass, tying their thighs together in massive stringy ropes. Clayton rutted blindly, visor fogged up nearly entirely opaque; all he could see was a smear of rainbow colors. But his cock caught on the folds of Ben's prolapse, and he shoved deeper into the slimy, pulsing heat that was his ass, fingers digging into Ben's fat haunches, skin squelching in his grip. looked down at his altered cock, only a few inches longer but easily twice as fat; the piercings that had been ludicrously oversized now fit snug, his huge prince albert digging hard into the crest of his cockhead. Clayton shook his head, dazed, sweat soaking his face, legs trembling. He could feel the pulse of heat as his legs soaked up Tony's come, muscles burning like he'd just worked himself to exhaustion, new muscle already bulking up his thighs as more come drooled from his gaping asshole. Clayton idly tugged at his prince albert, just barely able to shove it forwards against his cockhead enough for its catch to disengage, its lower half clattering to the ground, the upper curve almost instantly popping off, too small to properly fit. "I'm gonna need a bigger gauge," he said, dazed, wobbling backwards until he would've dropped to his knees if Cole hadn't caught him.
[clayton & cole fuck] Clayton scrubbed a hand across his face. He was a few days unshaven under his helmet, and with a craggier, rougher face -- nothing like Rook's chubby babyface. "Y'seem real eager to fuck anything that moves." Cole laughed. "You blame me? This place has been a nonstop orgy this past week, and I'm not tired of it yet. All this Locust juice makes you wanna fuck." He gestured down, and Clayton followed his hand: oh yeah, he was hard. Morning-hard, a big fat pipe jutting up between his legs, with the sheets draped over the curve. Getting his attention drawn to it was all it needed, he guessed: it was _throbbing_, solid and needy, all his flesh too-big, too-tight, straining to fit. His balls were jammed up against his thighs, squashed tight, and he found himself spreading his legs, wrapping his hand around his sac and tugging up. His balls were more than a handful now, weirdly hot and leathery even through the sheet, and they formed a giant lumpy heap draped across his thigh, sore and aching. Cole laughed, and Clayton jerked his head up, suddenly aware he'd just spent the past few seconds just sitting there, hand kneading at his balls. There was a damp spot on the sheet, his cockhead drooling way more easily than it ever had before; even with his hand away his cock shuddered, and Clayton could feel a weird wet spurt gush up through his cock, soaking into the fabric. "No shit," he said, voice gravelly. "So y'know," Cole said, shifting his weight so Clayton could see the imprint of his cock, pressed against his threadbare sweats, "you want somebody to take care of that?" Cole wasn't-- Clayton had fucked around plenty; he'd fucked his share of guys, not even including the fucking incestual orgy he'd just been a part of, and generally Cole wasn't somebody he'd leap for. Not somebody he'd spit at either, just... not his type. But heat spun up all through his body: cock shuddering, nipples hardening, leaving him flushed and aching. Just at the sight of Cole there, and the solid knowledge that if he said so Cole'd be on his knees and his cock would be in a warm mouth in a second. His cock shuddered again, cockslit yawning wide, and he gushed such a mess of slimy pre that it felt for a second like he was taking a piss. Thick slime soaked through the sheet and started to dribble down his shaft, spilling down to leave glossy blotches all across his thigh. "Fuck," Clayton slurred. "C'mere." And then Cole was on him, skin feverishly hot pressed against his chest, his cock pinned up between their abs, throbbing like he was gonna come just from that. Cole moaned into his mouth -- they were kissing now -- and broke away to press wet, open-mouthed kisses across his stubbled jaw and neck, coming back to kiss again, and the slide of their lips against each other had Clayton sprawling back, pulling Cole onto the bed on top of him, dazed and humping against him like he was a teenager. it wasn't just that Cole's hand didn't wrap all the way around -- Clayton's dick was pretty fat; he was used to that -- but that it hardly even wrapped around his shaft _halfway_. He'd had a friend who'd called his dick "beer-can thick", and it'd been pretty damn close, but Clayton's dick made a beer can look downright _dainty_. It was a fucking cudgel, a fat blunt sledgehammer-head of a cock that Cole could only really cup his hand along. His cockslit was a long gash, his cocklips swollen enormously, bulging out from his cockhead in a thick ridge. They pouted into a wide O, spreading wide enough he could see straight through his prince albert piercing hole, and then he erupted with a thick, slimy mess of pre, blasting out of his cock and messily squirting all over, drenching Cole's hand and forming slimy piles all across his stomach. His entire body shuddered with the aftershocks, squirting out little arcs of pre across his heaving chest. Clayton sunk back, dazed, entire body ringing with pleasure, maybe grinning like he was stoned. All that just from a single little squirt of pre. heavy and flopping against his thigh, slinging a mess of pre across Clayton's hip with each squat His cockhead rammed inside, hitting the wall of Cole's ass, and Cole tipped back minutely, shifting so it ground right into his prostate. And hell, what a prostate. It was this enormous sac that bulged out against his anal walls, only thinly-wrapped in flesh. Clayton's cockhead rammed into its spongy, pulpy weight and it _squashed_, Cole bellowing as his cock poured out a flood of grimy yellow-grey pre, spilling in sudden, abrupt spurts all across Clayton's stomach. Cole sat down hard, all his weight suddenly on Clayton's hips, cockhead mashing the bloated swell of his prostate into a lumpy disc, and Cole just -- sat there, huffing and moaning, his asshole spasming. The rim of his asshole was enormous, thick and heavy, making a mess of rippling furrows that slurped nearly halfway up the length of Clayton's shaft. Cole's cock wasn't even hard, but his prostate spasmed and lurched against Clayton's cock, and each one was met with a watery gush of pre. Cole looked dazed, mouth hanging open, tears trickling out the corners of his shut eyes, breathing heavy and fast. Cole's only movement was to rock gently back and forth, smearing Clayton's cockhead over the full swell of his inflamed prostate, mashing his spongy flesh down. His prostate was so rubbery and enormous that Clayton's cockhead was practically inside it; surrounded on all sides by pulsing, shuddering flesh, pulpy and heavy, production so overrun that Clayton could feel wet pulses through the thin sheath of Cole's anal wall. His cock shuddered where it was lying across Clayton's stomach, draped over Cole's fat balls, just absolutely pissing out a slimy mess of yellow-grey pre. Cole was straight-up sobbing, gulping down breaths, letting out choked groans every time Clayton's cockhead caught and then skidded across his prostate. "Yeah," Cole said, dazed. "You can have your fun." And he lolled to the side, groaning again as that bashed Clayton's cockhead against his prostate, and just lay there limp, a slimy mess of ooze pouring across his stomach.
[ clayton meets up w/ the locust piercing guy and then he fucks clayton, and then i guess injects his dick w/ weird imulsion ooze + pierces him more] the guy was.. big. Shirtless, keglike muscled chest on display, barefoot and wearing only a pair of heavy armored pants. His cock made an absolutely obscene bulge in the front, like he'd shoved a melon or two down the front, forming a giant bulging heap, so huge it folded over itself. And it couldn't be more obvious he was into all sorts of body-mod shit; he was pierced and tattooed all over: nipple rings, a fat septum piercing, studs through his eyebrows and lips, thick rectangular cattle tags in an asymmetrical fan across the shell of his ears, and thick quarter-sized plugs in his earlobes. A complex geometrical design was tattooed across his face in black and red ink, making thick stripes across his eyes, thinner curving lines down his neck. His hide was ribboned up and down with something like tattoos, red-black ink that made his flesh bubble up into froth, with thick spikes jutting out from some of them, in patches and clusters. "What're you after anyway?" weird talking to a locust, weird having Tai send him his way, like he was just some guy he was hitting up for weed or something. But what _was_ he looking for? Bigger piercings, sure. But... "Not sure," Clayton said, throat dry. "What you got?" couldn't see anything really through his spread zipper, just an incoherent mass of swollen, lumpy flesh, a few black metal piercings visible. Nothing he could make sense of. And it was so big it was stuck in his pants. The guy reached in and hauled his cock out into the open air. The drone's cock was a fucking mess, and that was coming from _him_. He had a prince albert, solidly two fingers thick, enormous even on his giant Locust dick. But that wasn't even all that noticeable compared to the rest of it. His cockhead was studded with fat pustules, budding out from the taut dome, growing thicker across the edges until the rim was a lumpy mess of overlapping buds, flaring out brutally wide from the extra mass. And his cockslit was a huge gash, the length of Clayton's entire thumb maybe, his cocklips permanently bruised up into chunky lips, puffy and dark framing the slick wet opening that looked like Clayton could just shove a few fingers in around the piercing, easy. And then embedded in his flesh just under the rim were enormous beads, pearled under his pustules and down across the start of his shaft, a dozen fat pearls each the size of Clayton's thumbtip. And beneath that, growing from the raw skin under his foreskin, were bristles. Not spikes, not like the things Marcus and Stratton and -- Ben, too, had. But quills, practically, short and stiff, in thick bunches. A few inches long, all shiny and slimy, wrapped all around his cockhead. And then his shaft... the top of the shaft looked comparatively normal, or at least as far as locust dicks went: fat, long, greyish with a yellow-brown tinge. But along the underside it was a mess. His urethra was enormous, spongiform bruised and swollen out until it was the size of a cock all by itself, and it had a giant frenum ladder of oversized piercings -- long finger-thick U hooks that dangled down the underside of his cock -- that looked to go straight through: his piercing holes were leaking pre. And he had more and more pearls, bigger and then smaller as they went down his shaft, framing his urethra. But all that was nothing compared to the growths. Near the sides, along both sides, he had enormous bloated masses of growths that practically unfurled into separate wings, easily doubling the thickness of his shaft; a lumpy, leathery mess of bloated flesh along both sides, all purple-black and glowing-yellow, like froth and bubbles that had frozen in place and filled up with flesh. Intermixed with them were erratic, asymmetrical bunches of quills, splaying out down his shaft. Nearer to the base, he'd somehow coaxed the rocky scutes that all Locust had into practically horns, a big knobbly mess of dark, waxy spikes spread across the base of his crotch and spanning up the first few inches of shaft, swelling the base out into a gnarled oblong lump. And through it all he had enormous veins, visibly bulging across his thighs and stomach, winding down in finger-thick cords that branched and branched along the length of his cock. Affixed at the very root of his cock was an enormous cockring, black steel, hooked around his shaft and balls, shoving them all forward, keeping his veins bulging out. His cock was a colossus, brutally thick, heavy even before the weight of the piercings studded across it. And that wasn't even getting to his balls. They were heavy, was one thing, and huge. Bigger than his goddamn head. By a lot. Clayton was -- with all the locust walking around bare-assed naked through the base he'd at least started to realize the average locust cock hung halfway to their knees soft, and had to drape out over their balls, but this was... an entire other level. He didn't know how the guy could _walk_. Most of the bulk of his bulge had been his balls, shoved out and forward, and even then they must've been crammed in tight, practically pressurized. They hung straight down, taller than they were wide by a lot; his sac hung down to an inch or two above his knees, and his balls filled all that space. His sac was drawn taut, the shape of his misshapen balls clear through the sheath of flesh, lumpy tips thudding against his thighs as the other ends visibly scraped back and forth against his taint, knobbly bulges rising and falling as his balls shifted, churning and lurching of their own volition. The flesh of his sac was all leathery, supple-looking, with some raw, stretched-out seams across his thighs, between his legs, where the thing actually connected to the rest of his body. The drone looked at him, staring transfixed at his cock, mouth open slightly, lips parted. "You'cn touch if you wanna." couldn't fit one hand around it; hell, there were parts that were so thick and lumpy he couldn't fit both hands around it. The cockhead, even with its giant, horselike flare, was comparatively dainty to the pearled, bristled, deformed shaft; Clayton found himself tugging and squeezing at the very tip, rubbing his fingers back and forth over the papulle-covered dome of his cockhead, sliding his fingers through the greasy pre, tugging on his giant prince albert, spreading the meat of his cocklips. Pre drizzled from the tip, and even with half of it oozing through the piercing holes along his shaft, Clayton's hands got soaked, slick and hot and stringy, covered in slimy layers of pre. whole thing shuddered, the drool of pre turning into sluggish squirts; with the hand cupped along the underside he could feel clots of slime work their way up, catching on the drone's piercings, too big to leak through his piercing holes with the rest of his pre. Just the cock pumping and pumping before his cockslit splayed wide and spat out a greasy clot, a dense, creamy mess of coagulated slime. "Feels good, huh?" "Wanna feel what it's like to take a ride on it?" Clayton figured that was how this was gonna go, from the first moment Tai said he'd hook him up. Him getting fucked by a bonafide locust. Not just one of the mutant freaks they had lounging around the base, but somebody born and raised in the underground. tipping him on his back, claws digging into his ass, spreading it. The drone leaned in, tongue -- a long, slimy purple-black tentacle, all covered in bubbling warts -- spilling from his mouth and smearing across Clayton's shoulders, neck, jaw, before it curled over his lips and plunged abruptly into his mouth. He sputtered, spitting thick, stringy slime back against the drone's face, and when he gasped the drone groaned and lunged forward, shoving his tongue down his throat grabbed his fat pecs, crosspiece piercings ground down against his nipples. The drone groped him, claws digging into his flesh, and then focused on his nipples, the rough hide of his thumbs scraping back and forth over Clayton's bloated nipples until he was groaning and whining, arching his back into the touch. His nipples had always been sensitive, and when he'd gotten the piercings they'd made it worse; thick struts of rebar dragging and tugging against formerly-internal nerves. The imulsion stewing in his prostate and balls had left the rest of his body untouched, mostly, but his nipples had been aching ever since, puffier and even more sensitive, and now even just the smooth slide from the drone's claws was enough to have him moaning, eyes screwed shut. Erect, his nipples made fat mounded peaks, bulging where they were wrapped around his cross piercings, and the drone slid his fingers up and down, over their swells, until they were pebbled and aching. He tugged on the bars, tweaking his nipples up, twisting -- and the shock of that burned through Clayton's body, flesh heavy and rubbery, more elastic than usual. The drone noticed, or maybe he just noticed the full-body shudder Clayton made, and he dug in, claws tugging his nipples up and out, fingers spread between each quarter of the crosspiece. He twisted, like he was fucking turning a valve, around and then around again, and Clayton's newly-rubbery flesh went with it, hot shocky aches bursting up from his bloated nipples as his flesh folded over itself, until his nipples were taut, bulging helixes of flesh. Clayton couldn't help it; he _squealed_, moaning and shuddering, cock erupting between them, spraying grime all across the drone's front. The drone squeezed, pressing down, and for Clayton everything went white, greyed out, pleasure and pain bursting in tangled beats from the two spikes of his nipples. He was dimly aware of sobbing, the locust's tongue smearing all across his sweaty face, his cock erupting again, or still, jerking up between their bodies. The drone let go, and Clayton sagged back like that was what'd been keeping him up; lying limp across the bed, chest heaving, drenched in sweat and come. His nipples unwound, twisting ribbons of pressure marks all across his chest, folds of flesh at the very peaks still stuck together. septum piercing a huge bull ring, nearly matching the drone's. It stung, burning between his nostrils, the weird imulsion wash making it heal fast -- nearly too fast -- and crackling up into his sinuses, like he was gonna have fucking imulsion snot now or some shit. Clayton wrinkled his nose, making faces, not used to the weight, the tug. laughed a little, not meanly. "You like it, huh." He sat back, lounging across the bench, legs spread with the grotesque heft of his cock-and-balls practically drooping all the way to the ground. "What if I said _kneel_," looking at Clayton expectantly. He could feel the humiliated heat all across his face as he let his legs drop, still staring into the drone's glowing eyes. "Good boy," the drone said, and there was a pulse of -- heat, pleasure, success, bursting all across his chest. His cock was rock hard, dribbling foul pre onto the ground. "Now c'mere. Crawl." And he did it, on all fours like a fucking dog, face burning hot. The drone reached out when he got close, cupping his head and pulling his face into the dense mound of his balls, pinning his face there, pressed against the leathery wall of his straining sac. "Suck on my balls," the drone said. "Open wide. Nah, harder. You can bite down if you wanna." Clayton's mouth was filled with leathery flesh, loops of cords under the surface settling into his mouth as he sucked and slurped, sweaty musk drizzling across his tongue. His cheeks bulged out like a chipmunk, mouth crammed full with grimy locust hide. The drone sighed, sat back, idly tugging on his cock -- Clayton kept it up, slurping and chewing across the enormous mound of his balls, face slimy with spit, and sluggishly a drizzle of fuming, sour pre spilled down the drone's cock, over his fingers, and down across his heaving ballsac, smearing across his face. The drone used his other hand to pull him deeper, his actual balls spreading up so Clayton could slurp between them, head sandwiched between the two giant, lopsided balls.
[... skorge brings marcus back eventually after his heat is done ] Marcus woke slowly, his entire body tingling. He felt swollen all over again, his eggs doubly fertilized by Skorge's and the worm's loads, and he swore he could feel them churn inside him, stirring as they slowly fattened. His nipples had been aching since the night in the imulsion caverns, swollen and drooling, and now it seemed they'd gone into overproduction: his pecs had fattened further, areaola stretched into huge, palm-sized blotches that slowly built up to his immense nipples, big rubbery things about as long as his thumb and twice as thick. His newer lower nipples weren't quite as big, but they had built up their own breast tissue, forming fat teats across his hairy, muscled stomach. He felt like a sow, six breasts aching, nipples continually oozing watery discharge. Marcus rolled over onto his back, groaning softly as his nipples lolled with the movement: none of them were long enough to fold over themselves or anything like that, but they stuck out from his chest and stomach like spikes, a solid weight that bore down on his budding breasts. Marcus reached up and wrapped his right hand over his left nipple -- the original one -- and squeezed, gently kneading it. It squirted, a thin spurt of clearish slime, before sluggishly spilling milky yellow-white discharge all down his fingers. Marcus groaned, digging in harder, milking his fat, heavy nipples like they were udders. Milky ichor spilled sluggishly over his fingers and ran down his chest. His entire body prickled with pleasure, radiating out from his aching breast in shockwaves as he finally drained some of his overfull glands. His chest ached, milk glands swollen and heavy, and there was a potent kind of pleasure in _release_. He brought his left hand up, tugging on the lower two on his left side before he slid his right hand over his chest, soaking his hair to his skin, and really dug into his original nipples with both hands, kneading and squeezing as they let out little squirts, arcs of milk that splattered against his skin and soaked the sheets to his sides. The problem was just that he didn't have enough _hands_; Marcus squeezed his teats so hard the pressure started to hurt and then almost frantically slid down to the next pair, ruthlessly tugging on them only until his top set stopped aching. He groaned, eyes screwed shut, swollen pecs dragged out into stiff conical peaks as he kept mauling his tits, grimy milk burbling continually down his chest and through the sodden, hairy thatch of his stomach. He moaned in frustration, nipples throbbing fiercely, burning with ache. He squeezed down hard, until he could feel his heartbeat thudding through the squashed flesh of his bloated nipples, a steady dribble of milk spilling over his fingers, and only then did the burn start to fade. But the rest of his nipples just throbbed harder. head swung up, bleary-eyed and sobbing from the unabated ache of it. face flushed, his entire front tingling, cock stirring between his legs. Dom grinned, reaching out to tweak one of his unattended lower nipples, and Marcus groaned wantonly, his entire body shuddering. Dom reached out, fingers curling solidly around the two lower teats on that side, and Marcus' entire body went limp. Dom squeezed, tugging, and a thin squirt of milk erupted out of him, splattering all up across Dom's chest, leaving milky dribbles in his hair. Dom's fingers felt amazing, pressure beating inside him, heat boiling inside his bloated, overflowing milk glands. And Dom kept it up, fingers squeezing smoothly and regularly. Milking him. "Hey!" Dom yelled, out into the hallway. "Marcus needs some help here!" Marcus would've been kinda pissed off, but he really did need some help. Dom squeezed on his nipples again and he _moaned_, a loud rolling sound that everybody in the corridor could hear even if the door had been shut. dazed, lying there while the six of them nursed on his teats, three on each side: Dom, Tai, Baird, Cole, ..., and ...(Rojas???), while Stratton looked on, idly tugging on and slapping his mammoth cock. They all suckled lazily, drinking down Marcus' thin milk, his breasts if anything getting more swollen as they got stimulated, pushing his aching glands into overdrive. Hands reached all over his hairy chest, groping the solid meat of his pecs, cupping the fat swells of his breasts, mouths all hungrily sucking and swallowing. Stratton groped his grotesquely oversized cock, grabbing it with both hands and dragging it up with a full-body haul to slap the head down between Marcus' spread legs. He stepped forward, cock squirming up from the foot of the bed, slapping against Marcus' thighs, and then Stratton leaned forward, tugging the spike of Marcus' cock down so it pointed right at his cockhead and just slowly let his cockhead suck it in, the fat, squirming cilia he had all along the inside grabbing onto Marcus' spikes and dragging it down, sucking the whole thing into Stratton's gaping cockslit.
[cole gets fisted/fucked by a locust in a big mess hall orgy & then somebody in the cole fanclub shows up and is like "hey you still open to get fucked more"] Cole sprawled back boneless over the table, his gaping hole oozing clotted locust come. Not the roughest he'd had, but rough enough to scratch the itch. His body was still pulsing from the contact: scrapes buzzing, asshole throbbing, a haze of heat all over. He flung a forearm over his eyes, blocking out the overhead lights, groaning as that tugged on the bruises up his side. A voice pulled him out of it: "You, uh, still open?" Cole looked over: some COG, shirtless with his pants undone, cock a big lump, sweaty and flushed but not as used as most of the soldiers. Medium-tone skin; some burn marks across his forearms; non-regulation hair: a shaggy mop of curly brown draped down over his ears. Cole let out a husky laugh. "'M pretty loose." The guy's eyes darted down, catching the furl of his prolapse. "I mean, you up to get fucked again?" Cole rolled over onto his side, giving the guy a good angle to his ass. "Go for it, man." The guy stepped up, hands drifting over Cole's hips, gripping the meat of his ass. Cole let him, just letting him skim his fingers back and forth over his hole for a minute, thumb rubbing along the bloated ridge, all sloppy with come. He got his cock in quick enough, anyway, stepping in close and sliding it in. Cole was slick and open; he just thrust in until Cole'd taken his whole cock, not even a stretch. The guy moaned, staring down -- watching the rubbery meat of Cole's ass flex, ass lips mouthing on the base of his cock. He thrust, letting out low whimpering groans each time come squirted from Cole's ass, thick chunky Locust come splattering up against his stomach. His fingers clenched around Cole's thighs, gripping the muscle, and he pulled his cock back and forth, gaze never breaking from Cole's wrecked ass. His cockhead slipped out, fat ridge rubbing over the lip of Cole's ass, almost pouting out, and then he did that a few times, just rutting his cockhead back and forth through Cole's sloppy hole, getting his cock properly slimy with Locust come before shoving back in to the root. His mouth was hanging open, just a little, and his fingers slid over Cole's skin like he wasn't aware he was making the motion, fingers catching the sloppy cords of come and feeding them back into his ass, working a finger and then two inside, practically jerking himself off inside Cole's ass. It was cute. The guy was obviously into him, so Cole didn't put it against him when he came after like two minutes -- his breathing got heavier, thrusts fractionally harder, and he came in thick, heavy gushes, splattering across his inner walls, white come spilling out mixed with the grimy green-grey Locust come already inside him. "Fuck," the guy said, still thrusting, cock softer and rubbery, dark flesh smeared up and down with the slurry of come, fingers still probing at his hole. Cole twisted onto his side, the first motion he'd really made, and the guy's gaze jerked up, cheeks darkening. Like he'd gotten so into it he'd forgotten Cole was actually paying attention. "Lemme suck you off," he said, and the guy's cock shuddered inside him. He pulled out without even playing with Cole's gape and moved to the other side, half-hard cock slimy with come, already stiffening again. Cole pressed his lips to the tip, lapping up some of the mess, and the guy groaned, cock filling out on Cole's tongue. He lapped down the underside, shaft leaving a messy smear all across his face, and he slurped on the guy's balls -- drenched with slime -- sucking one and then both into his mouth, drinking down the ooze before spitting them out and getting back to work on his shaft. The guy seemed nice. Pliant. Cole could see getting him to do all sorts of shit to him. Cole had the guy's entire cock buried in his mouth when they got interrupted. Some other guy grabbing at his ass. White, black hair, muscled, hairy. Dick half-hard, already slick from whoever he'd fucked before. "He good?" he said over Cole's head, and the other guy stared for a second and nodded mutely. "Fuck, good," he said, sinking his cock into Cole's gape, stirring his thrusts a little before he firmed up. "Got some expectations tapping Cole's ass." At Cole's look -- side-eyeing him with the other guy's cock down his throat -- he clarified. "Augustus Cole fanclub. You know you got 'em. And we're some of 'em." He bottomed out with a groan and a squelch, a frothy mess of human and locust come burbling out over his crotch, soaking his pubes, grabbing at Cole's thick ass and dragging his sweaty body back and forth over the table, fucking Cole on his cock, jerking forward at the end to hilt sharply, balls hitting Cole's ass with a crack. Cole pulled off the guy's cock with a sloppy lick along its length, curling his tongue over the ridge of his cockhead. It was trembling, constantly dribbling little spurts of pre, sharper squirts shooting up over Cole's lips. He looked up at the guy, who'd been staring down at him the whole time. "You too? In the fanclub?" The guy stared at him, a blush -- from exertion or embarrassment Cole didn't know -- visible across his cheeks. Cole lapped at his cock, swallowing down the puddle of pre that'd gathered on his dimpled tongue, and the guy's entire body shuddered, veins standing out on his neck. "Yeah." "You jerk off thinking about this?" The guy swallowed, cock on the brink of orgasm, flushing hotter -- embarrassment, then, maybe. "Yeah." Cole drooled over his cockhead, dragging his fat lower lip over the thick flange, smearing spit and pre, and then slurped over the taut dome, kissing his spread piss slit, tongue spilling from his mouth, swiping across the underside. The guy let out a breathy, sighing moan, balls pulling up tight, cock starting to twitch hard. "This live up to the fantasy?" "Y-yeah," the guy said, wide-eyed under his curly fringe, and came all across his face. Cole squinted, pulses of come hot and liquid, streaming over his forehead and cheeks as the guy really drained his balls, shot after shot spraying across his face, dripping down to mix with his sweat. Cole leaned in, pulling his still-spurting cockhead into his mouth, swallowing after every pulse, sucking on the tip even as he knew it was getting oversensitive, the guy wincing at his sloppy swipes across the aching tip. Eventually Cole let it pop out between his lips, tension visibly leaving the guy's body, head coming to rest draped against his slimy cheek. Like it was on cue, the other guy came with a showy groan, fingers digging into Cole's meaty hips, cock twitching in Cole's ass, each shot of come gushing inside him and sloppily drooling out through the swollen folds of his wrecked ass as he kept thrusting, smearing the slurry of come all down across the backs of Cole's thighs, dribbling down onto the table surface. Cole scraped a hand over his face, getting a mess of sweat and come smeared over his fingers. He shoved them in his mouth, lapping it up -- thick salt. "You wanna go somewhere else? I guess the whole fanclub is gonna come over, an' I'm not up for a gangbang right now." "Uh," the guy said. "Just me? Not {other guy}?" "Nah," Cole said. "He reminds me too much of my ex." spilling onto Cole's bed, the guy moaning into Cole's mouth, hands wrapped over his shoulders. "Wanna fuck me again, or you want me to top?" It was less a question of interest and more of capability; he'd jerked the guy off again on the way there, and maybe the guy wasn't up to marathon-fucking him into the mattress quite yet. The guy breathed hard. His cock was still only half-hard. "Lemme fist you," he said. A guy after his own heart. "Sure," Cole said, and lolled onto his back, raising his legs up. He could feel his hole peeling open, slabs of bruised flesh slowly spreading, thick cords of come stretching out between them before they snapped, splattering along the walls of his gaping anal trench. "You're gonna have to use both hands," he said, and the guy let out a laugh that was more of a moan.

andre gets a bloodmount tf [^]

"Man, we got everything. Corpser, Serapede, Tempest, Seeder, you name it. What you after, though?" "Uh," Andre said. "Big dick." The drone snorted. "You and everybody." "You humans get all the luck," the drone said, going through vials. "This shit only works on you. We'd be lucky to get a single new scale. Our brain guys were working on this for decades, and I guess they figured -- might as well make bindings for everything we got." His fingers stilled over one vial. To Andre they all looked like the same yellow murk. "Brumak. You want a big cock, that'll get you it. You seen that guy? Jace Stratton? A dick like that. Too big to fuck anybody with." Andre thought about it. Pinning Cole to the bed just by the weight of his cock, Cole's giant biceps straining as he hugged the immense shaft, cockhead bigger than his head gushing all over his face. Fucking hot. But... "I really wanna fuck him. Hard. Get him all stuffed up with come." His voice was thick and heavy. He was hard in his pants, obviously, and at first he'd tried to hide it, but, fuck it, the drone was bare-ass naked; he was here asking for some kinda infusion to give him a gross monster dick. Wasn't nobody here unaware of what was happening. "Stuffed up, huh?" The drone leered. "I got an idea. You ever seen a Bloodmount?" "The like --" Andre mimed walking on his hands. "The dog things?" Bloodmounts were another product of freakish Locust science -- thought he guessed now that rung a little different, with half the base enjoying the products of the latest breakthrough in Locust bioscience. Giant dog-like things that some Locust soldiers rode, but bred, or bio-engineered, so that they had impossibly huge, over-developed upper bodies. They walked around on their forepaws, with the rest of their body curled up under them, leaving their hind legs free to evolve into huge hooking, tearing talons. "Yeah, them. You seen their dicks?" "Uh, what? No." "Lower body all shriveled up, so I guess their dicks stopped worked. But they adapted. Bloodmounts mate with their tongues. Big flexible thing, comes and everything." He picked out a vial, grinning toothily down at Andre. "Got a knot, too. You wanna stuff him up with your load, that'll do it." "Fuck," Andre said. His cock lurched in his pants, pre sluggishly seeping into the fabric. Cole writhing on the bed, sloshing with come, his moans turning into shaky groans as he'd just keep coming, more and more until his stomach was bloated out in a big taut mound. "Fuck, yeah, that sounds good." "You want the tongue, or the cock, or both?" the drone said. "What, like-- both?" "Like I said, they got a tongue-cock. You wanna change your tongue or your cock?" Andre blinked. All the other guys he'd seen had just gotten what they'd gotten: imulsion warping their bodies in whatever way it happened to be processed. The thought that he could just, what, put together a specific order seemed bizarre. "You can do that?" The drone shrugged. "It's not hard. The issue with the purestrain Locust imulsion was just making it go through humans and not turn them into Sires first; that's what raw imulsion just does. For these, they're mostly topical anyway: drink it or get it shoved down your dick." He'd gotten out the one vial, and was in the process of splitting it in two, cutting in some other fuming substance. He'd already predicted what Andre was gonna pick. Maybe it was obvious. "Both," he said, voice catching in his throat, rough and hoarse. "Fuck, yeah, both." The drone leered at him, peeling back his lips to show a mess of fangs. "Good choice." He thinned one of the vials of sludge, pouring something thin and clear into it -- it literally might have just been watering it down -- and handed it to Andre. "Drink that." Andre peered into the imulsion murk. It was warm in his hand, sluggishly getting hotter, and it fumed gently, wisps of acrid smoke peeling off the surface. "Bottoms up," he said, and chugged it. Maybe that was a mistake. It burned, stinging like he'd just drunk acid. Goo stuck in his throat, vapors spilling out from his open mouth, tears streaming down his face. He sputtered, holding in his coughing for long enough to swallow, twice, before buckling over, hacking in his elbow, drool flooding his mouth and spilling down his forearm. He swallowed, imulsion thinned in his drool, face flushed, nose running, eyes watering, everything burning. "Easy," the drone said, squatting down in front of him. He'd stuck the other fat vial into a giant syringe. No needle, thankfully. "But it's not done yet. Hold still." He reached out and tugged out Andre's cock from his pants. He was still hard, flagging a little from the imulsion burn, but the drone's touch was practically clinimal: he slid a thumb up his cockhead -- locust scutes rasping over his skin, hot but also stinging -- and pinned his it between two fingers. He pushed down, just enough to make his piss slit squint open. The drone raised the syringe with his other hand, pressing the rubbery tip right against his splayed cockslit and then twisting the syrine around until the tip pushed down inside his cock. "Urgh--" Andre gurgled, eyes still burning, squinting down, arousal and trepidation pooling in his gut in equal measure, and then the drone started depressing the plunger. Imulsion surged out, inside him, a rush of thick liquid that spilled awkward and heavy inside him for a second, two, before the burning started. He _howled_, practically reflex making him jerk to the side, but the drone shifted his weight, forearm pressed hot against his hips, keeping him pinned in place as he casually twisted the syringe deeper. He kept slowly, smoothly pushing the plunger down, making sure not a single drip of imulsion escaped even as Andre twisted and howled. Andre's cry turned into a gasp, a wet sucking sob, as he gurgled and drooled: imulsion burning in his mouth, clawing its way inside his dick, searing through his flesh. It went on and on: lines of fire searing through his stomach, burning down into his balls, like his cock was gonna be charred. He heaved and sobbed, wetly gasping for breath. He was pretty sure he reflexively punched the drone in the head at some point. There was a final twist, syringe canister sliding inside his cock, and then a lurch of pressure swelling inside his cock. Andre looked down through tear-smeared vision, face covered in tears and drool and snot. The syringe canister was shoved into his cock, and that alone seemed like an impossible stretch: something two fingers thick sunk into his shaft, lodged in place. The pain of the stretch didn't even register over the burning imulsion tendrils. The canister was lodged inside him, tip bulging out further, and as Andre looked down with bleary eyes the drone pulled back, body of the syringe pulling free -- from his _cock_, sliding smoothly out from where the drone had worked it deep down inside him -- but leaving behind the empty canister itself, locked inside him. Its base kept his cockslit stretched open obscenely, warped around the fat vial lodged inside him. Trapping all the imulsion slime in him. Andre groaned, writhing, curling up in the fetal position as the pain in his throat and dick burned hotter. He had enough presence of mind to keep swallowing, to try to keep the burning imulsion in his mouth down, but that was it: all he could feel was the burn, heat charring his throat, entire surface of his tongue burning and stinging, imulsion fumes searing through his sinuses. His cock felt like somebody reached inside with a brand and was curling it around inside: hot stabs of pain ripping up between his hips, inside his balls, the entire length of his cock simply burning. He sobbed on the ground, skin sweaty and clammy, body uncontrollably shuddering as the imulsion etched its way into him. The pain didn't stop so much as fade: slowly burning itself out into a bone-deep ache. His limbs felt like lead, impossibly heavy when he tried to move his trembling body. He shuddered, rolling facedown, knees braced against his chest, and tried to just breathe evenly: lungs still burning from his rasping, charred throat. He gurgled, dimly aware of how he'd been drooling all over his face even with the constant swallowing. The drone was still beside him. "See, not that bad," he said, and then laughed at Andre's expression. The drone leered down at him: Andre's entire body flushed and sweaty, face messy, flanged plug shoved up inside his cock, and then the drone reached down and idly stroked his own cock -- well, if the chunky mess of flesh and metal that he had counted as a cock -- while looking up and down Andre's naked body. He'd been touching himself, idly jerking off, watching Andre writhe on the floor; his cock was sheened in thick clots of grimy Locust pre, forming fat globs and making his piercings shine dully. To be honest, sex right now was the furthest thing from Andre's mind; it felt like somebody had just scooped his cock off of his body, leaving behind a phantom wound that burned constantly. He cupped his cock -- soft now, of course -- to even see if he still had one. "Come back when it sinks in, softskin," the drone said. "I'll let you test it out." Then he slapped Andre's side, hauling him up. "Now get going." Andre shambled to his feet, cock and balls a mess of burning that reached tendrils up inside his body, aware his mouth was hanging open and drool was spilling down his chin. He rasped for breath, throat burning, spit burning his own mouth, saliva glands discharging as much as they could; enough drool flooding his mouth he had to keep swallowing until they went dry. He bet he looked like a zombie shambling back through the corridors: skin pallid except where it was flushed an inhuman yellow-purple; body drenched in acrid sweat; jaw hanging open; eyes bleary. Andre was lucky he didn't run into anybody he knew on the way back to his quarters: he just lurched inside, wobbling backwards to slam the door shut behind him, and then collapsed in bed, so exhausted even the burning pain didn't keep him up. woke up desperately horny, cock pulsing like he'd just come, an aching pressure behind the still-locked plug shoved down inside his slit. And, blearily, he rolled over, dimly aware but not really _aware_ yet of how his cock lolled to the side, spilling up over his stomach, curling over his chest. He jerked upright, the writhing tentacle that his cock was now sliding down his chest and landing in a coiled mess over his thighs. "Holy _shit_," he said, or tried to say, and it came out as a slurred gurgle. It felt like he had something in his throat, voice catching weird, and he coughed, feeling -- something -- slide out of him, coated in thick phlegm. It was his tongue, hanging out of his mouth like a rope, tethered way back inside him now, anchor points flexing down at the back of his mouth, inside his throat. His tongue curled, longer and thicker but still fundamentally a _tongue_, and he ended up hefting it up, slick and slimy and muscular like some enormous slug, so he could even look at it. It was more like both his cock and his tongue were the same thing, which was some weird-ass thing halfway between them. Raw red-purple flesh, vivid coloration just under the surface, like the underside of his tongue. They were slick, oozing on the sheets, not from a slit so much as just, everywhere, all over their surface, beads of pre, or spit, or whatever, dribbling out and spilling over their long, flexible lengths. drooling as he wrapped his tongue-tentacle around one arm, the other grinding against the root of his cock, its length twisting up his other arms. He probably looked absurd, humping his arm, jerking off his tongue, all tied up in a tangle of churning flesh. he had a fucking _knot_. His hands skimmed over the surface, just that touch enough to knock him back on his ass, inarticulately whining. Too sensitive to touch, almost. It was throbbing, not inflated really -- needing to get squeezed, to get locked inside something. He groaned again, cocks sputtering at just the thought of it, and with a meaty _slurp_ the heavy pressure in the back of his mouth shuddered and spilled out, his other knot pushing out past his lips. He was a fucking mess, drenched in spit and come, lips wrapped around the underside of his knot.

andre knots & cumflates cole from both ends [^]

[and then he goes and fucks cole super hard & knots him from both ends] looked like a fucking monster: tongue-cock and tentacle-cock coiling and twisting through the air, splattering slime all over, reaching out like they were hungry for prey and dragging the rest of him along for the ride. From his jaw down to his stomach he was completely slathered in thick, slimy drool, slime burbling over his mouth -- spread around the fat girth of his tongue-cock -- and the tongue-cock itself shiny with it, shedding lines all over. His tongue was purple-red and shiny, flesh still looking fundamentally like a tongue: top covered in prickly bumps that, further up its length, grew into big round blotches; underside raw flesh mapped with colored veins. His _actual_ cock was mostly the same: only it was flesh-colored up to about halfway up its length -- like, easily two feet -- and only then did the raw purple-muscle flesh push free of some kind of sheath, what was left of his foreskin, and let the rest of it twist out into the open, drooling just as much as his actual mouth. just obscene, watching Cole eagerly licking across the mutated nightmare of his cock, mouth open, thick lips sliding along the side of his shaft, tongue lapping out to catch the streams of weird, slick fluid practically oozing out of his flesh itself. Cole slid up, all the way to the tip, and Andre shuddered, cock convulsing, long tentacle-length twisting up against itself, and sprayed his face down with an enormous gush of pre. Cole's lopsided grin pressed against his shaft, cocktip gushing slimy ooze all over his cheeks, painting him in rank, reeking pre. Just the sight of it, Cole, _the_ Augustus Cole, stripped naked, on his knees, not just letting Andre spew his tainted pre all over his face but getting off on it, Cole's own dick rock hard, jutting up fat and heavy between his massive thighs -- "Ah fuck," Andre said, breathing hard. "Gonna come." Cole let out a groan of his own, rumbling deep in his chest, and dove down on his cock -- catching it in one hand so he could shove himself down on it, and Andre's cock had no problem with that, squirming over Cole's tongue and then shoving down his throat. Andre tugging minutely on Cole's shoulders, and Cole leaned in, gurgling, swallowing, feeding himself more of the always-thickening tentacle. His face was a mess, drenched in Andre's new juices, slimy scum coating his craggy skin, spilling down his jaw, the thick ooze dribbling down his muscular neck to spread and smear over his giant pecs, and that was just too much to take. The hot twisting in his guts, in his balls, rippling across his cock, burst, and then he was coming down Cole's throat, who-knew what kind of gunk spraying into him with each rippling shudder. Andre groaned, long and continuous, some newly-bloated muscle under his hips spasming constantly, pumping grimy sludge out from inside. His cock squirmed, working even deeper, tip pushing past ring after ring of muscle until it... lurched, popping out below his throat, just smooth muscle from there to his stomach. Cole's lips were stretched wide over the fat pillar, only a foot more of cock left, and then -- oh fuck. He'd forgotten about his knot. The way Cole's hands slid down to the root of his cock, wrapping over the bloated, swelling mound, Cole hadn't. The ripple of heat that raced through his body when Cole tugged on his knot would've been enough to get him to come, hard, if he wasn't already. Then Cole's lips smacked into it, the entire rest of his cock shoved down his throat, tip probing past a final shuddering barrier to push directly into his stomach. Cole gurgled, jaw as open as he could manage, lips flattened against the heft of his knot, tongue desperately jamming against the sliver of it that curved into his mouth. His hands squeezed down, milking his knot, maybe playing with it, maybe trying to squeeze it down to cram it into his mouth, it was hard to tell. Andre just kept coming. Like, fuck, every time he fucked Cole he came explosively, all over, bigger heavier loads than he'd had ever before. But this time he just wasn't stopping, cock shuddering and shuddering and shuddering, spurts gushing directly into Cole's stomach. Cole's throat buzzed against his shaft, drool spilling across his knot and then with a wet, gagging _slurp_ his knot spilled in over Cole's lips, teeth a hard ridge only just-sheathed, and then he was in. Everything whited out. He almost crumpled to the floor, legs wobbling, his grip on Cole's shoulders suddenly the only thing keeping him upright. His knot throbbed, swelling, pinned in Cole's mouth, fighting against the spasming muscles of his jaw. Andre gasped, panting for breath, and mumbled out something garbled, shifting them over so he could perch his ass on the bed, dragging Cole down lower between his legs. Cole's face was jammed right against his crotch, nose flattened in his pubes, lips spread obscenely around the root of his cock, face shiny with sweat and slime, tears dripping down his face, cords of slime oozing from his nose and squelching out from his lower lip, drooling down his balls. His hand slid over Cole's shoulder, gripping the back of his head. He rutted, grinding Cole's face down harder, knot bashing against the back of his mouth and drawing back to press against his teeth. His shaft gave a shudder all down its length, squirming in Cole's throat, tip, curling around itself. _That_ was what got Cole to gag, heaving, throat convulsing. Andre could feel it work up around his shaft, spluttering out across his crotch and drooling down his balls:a mess of chunky, grimy come, more slowly burbling over Cole's lips. wrenching him around, the both of them sprawling on their sides on the bed, one of Cole's giant thighs pillowing Andre's head. Cole's hole was a bloated as usual, big and puffy, and he let out a garbled moan and dove in, cock-tongue squirming up against his ass cheeks, tip sliding inside effortlessly Cole's asshole warped, his imulsion-altered flesh bulging wider and wider with each throb of Andre's knot. Andre was dizzy, lightheaded from the heft of his knot, but it kept pulsing bigger and bigger, into a massive, uneven bulk that lodged, loosely, in Cole's gaping ass. Andre snuffled for breath -- mouth practically plugged by the immense root of his altered tongue, gusting for breath buried between Cole's massive ass cheeks. lips mashed against the bloated swell of Cole's asshole, tongue sunk deep into his guts, weird tremors shuddering down his jaw, in his throat, as he came, spewing a mess of slobbery, thinned come into Cole's guts. He groaned, vibration buzzing against Cole's meaty ass-lips, knot throbbing with it. With both knots fully inflated, steadily pulsing, Andre felt -- dazed. Floating. Ripples of heat ran down his body, bouncing back and forth between his two knots, prickles gathering across his balls and throat; Cole's touch, fingers wrapped around his hips, felt like it was burning. Cole was bloated, the sheer mass of come Andre was dumping into him from both ends stretching his stomach. It sloshed in his stomach, rippling around the tip of his cock, and gushed through his guts, building up around the swell of his knot. Trapped. His chiseled abs shuddered, pushed up from beneath, and then he relaxed, gut spreading vastly in that single motion, the pressure inside him abating. His gut pressed against Andre's front, Cole's cock pinned between them, plastered against Andre's chest, drooling come in sloppy shudders. Andre had no clue when he'd stop coming. Even the thought -- "it could be hours" -- sent a pulse of heat through him, cocks flexing, gushing heavier bursts into Cole for a few moments. It could be hours; this could leave Cole pinned down by the sheer weight of come in him. Both holes wrecked, gaping, oozing out the rancid slurry Andre was coming. He was pretty sure he came Bloodmount come now. If he knocked up Marcus he'd probably give birth to pups. He was flooding Cole with watery beastial jizz, and Cole was still lapping against his knot, eagerly swallowing around his cock.
[ then tai gets fucked by a brumak or smth maybe. while still making out w/ marcus. ACTUALLY THIS SHOULD TAKE PLACE WAY LATER once tai is all half-locust ] hole was already flushed and pouting out between his cheeks, ass and thighs all smeared with grimy Locust cum. He leaned forward, thighs and back flexing, the motion tugging his ass open in a sloppy gape. Thick runnels of grey-green cum spurt out, clinging tight to the curve of his muscled ass and only sluggishly piling up over itself and drooling down his thighs. "Always said I was as tough as a Brumak, huh," Tai said, grinning. The floor under them rumbled as the massive beast took another step forward, armor crashing against its hide, its cock swaying back and forth under its huge body. "Guess we're gonna see for sure." He reached back, fingering his gaping hole, half-prolapsed flesh squishing back and forth, each none-to-gentle shove sending a squirt of come gushing out, drizzling down between his spread legs. Even though Marcus couldn't see, he couldn't imagine anything ever fitting the cannon-sized cock the Brumak was sporting. The Brumak stomped forward, closer than Marcus had ever been to a Brumak and not been yelling and shooting. The lenses on its helmet gleamed, each catching the light in a rippling span as it lowered its head, looking at them close. Its breath rippled out over them, hot and rank. Then it reared back, on its hind legs for a second, and took a lumbering step, one, two. Its cock smashed against the two of them, battering Tai to the ground, knocking Marcus back on his ass, splattering them both in rank, acrid pre. Its cock was monstrous: a thick shaft, gnarled with veins, and a cockhead that was nothing so much as a thicket of spines and tentacles, all dimly motile, clenching and twisting as pre continually sprayed from its gaping cockslit. It ground down, rutting Tai against the floor, mammoth balls smacking against him with a crashing, fleshy sound like a full-body tackle, tip mashing against Tai's face, instantly coating him in a river of slime. Its cockhead was easily bigger than Tai's _head_; looking at it straight on was like being face-to-face with some particularly bizarre Hollow species. The slit spread open, like a vertical mouth, and the inside of its shaft was a mess, riddled with big glossy bubbles of flesh, all shining and smooth. Thick cords of pre stretched out along the inner walls, glimmering. They started to droop, bowing down, but then a mess of pre erupted up, cock ejecting a massive, churning slug of ooze, splattering down all across Tai's face. It _churned_, squirming around like a living thing -- within the slimy mass there were cords of thicker slime, and it was that thicker slime that ran in solid cords all the way back down to the Brumak's cock, cords still stuck within its cock. Internal muscle clenched inside the Brumak, and every little twitch was channeled and amplified through the gummy mess, and the motion ran all the way back out, ending with its load squirming around across Tai's face and shoulders like a bunch of snakes, smearing grimy slime all over his skin in an inch-thick layer. Tai actually physically _grabbed_ it, ooze squelching in his hand, and stretched it out, shoving it into his mouth, slurping messily as he tried to drink it down. It was thick enough he had to chew, coughing and spitting up on himself as he gulped. They were practically fighting: Tai trying to yank the cords of pre all the way out; the Brumak's peristaltic spasms working aimlessly, churning it back and forth within its cock. Tai won: yet more of the mass slurped out from the Brumak's dick, the cords lashing and squirming as Tai grabbed some with both hands and crammed it into his mouth, throat stretching and bulging as the thick mass slithered its way down into his stomach. He soundlessly gasped, open-mouthed, throat entirely blocked -- open mouth covered in a film, warping and bubbling out as he gasped but never quite making it, until he gagged and coughed half the mess right back up across the Brumak's cockhead, wetly vomiting up a slimy semisolid slurry of pre. Then he pressed his face into the goo splattered in pudding-like globs over the gnarled flesh of the beast's cockhead and ate it right back up again, tongue curling around the fat knobs of flesh clustered across the cockhead, mouth flooded with scummy ooze before he swallowed and swallowed, coughing raggedly to clear his throat. It wasn't so much that Tai made out with the Brumak's cockhead as he nearly shoved his goddamn head inside it. The slit gaped, framed by two prongs of flesh, and Tai shoved his face between them, slime squirting out all around his face, piling up on his shoulders and drooling down. Tai groaned, the sound lost under the soggy, squelching suction of pre squirming across his body, and his face sunk deeper, nose and mouth shoved inside the Brumak's gaping slit. The Brumak roared, splattering saliva all over, and its cock pulsed twice, sharply, and spat out two more churning slugs, mashing up against Tai's chest and slapping over his shoulder. Tai just groaned, face pressed against the Brumak's gaping cockslit, fat cock-tentacles rubbing over his face as he mashed the slug between them, breaking it up into fat, slimy globs of ooze that smeared in sloppy peaks all up and down his chest. The Brumak lumbered a half-step backward -- enough to pull Tai's face from its cockhead with a messy _slurp_, but not enough to break the connecting film between them, chunky arm-thick ropes of ooze spanning from the tip all across Tai's head and shoulders, each spurt of pre caught up in the mess and deposited across Tai's face as if he was still deep in the Brumak's cock. He groaned, crawling forward to mash his face into the mess again, but the Brumak reached out with one of its hands and shoved him back, sending him sprawling prone, slime-covered face looking right up at the Brumak's open maw. Drool spilled down over him, in big greasy droplets, thinning the pre sludge and darkening the rock beside him. The Brumak opened its mouth, and its tongue lolled out, splattering the both of them with thick, slimy spit. Marcus had never been this close to a live Brumak, and sure as hell had never been this close to one's _tongue_ regardless. It was a huge thing, purple-black, and spilling out over its giant dagger-like fangs. The surface was pimply, all covered in a mess of pockmarks and prickly lumps, and the underside was all sleek purple muscle, with red-black veins bulging up to the surface. More and more lolled out of the beast's mouth; the later portion of the tongue was all covered in big glossy blotches, like raised bumps, and those were drooling a filmy ichor, something thicker than spit that had a gasoline sheen. That was a tongue that was easily bigger than either one of them. The Brumak lowered its head, exhale a whipping gust of wind, and slathered its massive tongue all over the both of them, hot and wet and sticky. The huge muscle spilled lower, probing between Tai's legs, and he groaned, raising them up -- feet catching on the sides of the Brumak's fangs. His entire body rocked against Marcus' front when the beast dug in. The Brumak's tongue folded over itself in frothy piles, spilling drool all across Tai's back and ass, only a tiny fraction of it pushing into his ass. Tai groaned, sagging, one hand reaching to cup his stomach, and Marcus followed the motion, hand clapped against Tai's gut. His eyes went wide as he felt the Brumak's tongue lurch and churn inside Tai, movement carrying all the way up to his skin. The beast drooled, hot breath billowing out over the both of them, and bore down -- Tai's shoulders rammed into Marcus, body rocking forward. Tai let out a cry, groaning continually, as the Brumak stuffed more of its tongue into his ass with a sickening slurping sound, gut rippling and then bloating as the Brumak's tongue churned up his guts. Spit-slathered flesh pumped back and forth, the Brumak tongue-fucking him with more and more of its tongue, until Tai's gut -- well, until Tai's gut looked like Marcus' had, after he'd been stuffed full of eggs. Hugely swollen, too-hot to the touch, and on Tai all his tattoos were stretched and skewed, his reddened flesh threatening to split through them with stretch marks. Tai wailed, groaning and shoving back, bracing himself against Marcus' hips -- his head was shiny with sweat, slick rivulets dripping down his sides, skin flushed dark. Then he _groaned_, eyes rolling back in his head, and went limp, cock erupting beneath him in thick, stringy lines of come. The beast tongue-fucked him through his orgasm, a fat fold of flesh spilling down to grind against his balls, and Tai let out a wheezing gasp each time the beast bore down against him, cock dribbling out squirt after squirt of come until he was drained, just a watery smear bubbling up from his flushed cockhead. His belly roiled, flesh rippling up and down in inhuman motions as the Brumak's tongue squirmed around inside him, sending Tai lurching side to side from the force of the motion. Tai just bellowed, nearly sobbing, as the Brumak's mouth yawned open wider, fangs digging into his thighs and back, the absolute root of the Brumak's tongue folding over itself in thick slimy layers, piling up against his ass as it shoved in even deeper, making his gut swell and bulge, gurgling from the sheer volume of Brumak spit drooling into him. Tai was practically sitting in the beast's maw, burning yellow eyes level with Marcus, giant fangs digging all across Tai's back and thighs, body folded in half. Drool spilled over its lips, drenching Marcus, its tongue nearly entirely buried in Tai's body. Then the tongue pulled out with a slobbery lurch, Tai's bloated belly suddenly shrinking as it all snapped out of him at whipcrack speed, leaving his gaping asshole pouring a waterfall of Locust come and Brumak slobber, body lurching and toppling forward as the Brumak spat him out onto the ground. Tai went entirely limp, the only thing stopping him from crashing to the ground Marcus' hands on his shoulders, suddenly bearing most of Tai's weight. Tai moaned, mumbling, dazed, and his hands weakly groped across Marcus' thighs and the rock below, only falteringly carrying his weight. And the Brumak -- it thundered forward, cock snapping up and down, smacking against its underbelly and spraying them both with a slimy drizzle of pre. The thing _squirmed_, veins pulsing, stubby cockhead tentacles writhing, and the Brumak hunched down -- Tai was a tiny target compared to it -- and shoved, cockhead crashing against his ass and driving inside through force alone, knocking Marcus back on his ass and dragging Tai entirely up in the air, lifted bodily up as the Brumak speared him on its cock. Tai didn't wail -- he exhaled with a near-silent _whuff_, soundlessly gasping as he hung there, impaled on the beast's cock. The cock made a huge mound across his shredded stomach, tentacles squirming under his flesh, and he slowly sunk deeper, slime and gravity dragging him fractionally down the massive shaft. The Brumak roared, and its cock lurched, snapping violently up against its underbelly and jerking Tai with it, his feet sliding out from under him, and he was spired for an instant, all his weight straight down on the Brumak's cock. The cockhead vanished up under his ribs, slamming directly against his diaphragm or maybe his stomach; either way Tai smacked back, mouth open, gagging and vomiting up a frothy, bubbling mess of the pre he'd just swallowed down, a grimy off-white eruption bursting from his mouth and drooling all down his front, thick bubbles bursting from his lips and nose as what little air was left in his lungs got punched out. He gaped, nothing but gurgling coming out of his mouth, the huge muscles of his neck twitching and trembling as sludgy pre burst up his throat, pouring in chunks down his chest. It was maybe a fraction of a second, really, before his feet found purchase and he dragged himself up the few inches it took -- he warbled, throat just squeaking as he dragged in his first breath, and then promptly vomited for real, coughing up huge gummy, coagulated chunks of pre, sucking in desperate breaths between heaves. He was a fucking mess: stomach bloated unevenly from the Brumak's cock; arms and legs drenched in a slimy layer of pre; face flushed incredibly dark, all the way down his neck and across his chest -- not that you could see his face under the mess of pre he was hacking up, big chunky globs of it, frothy and bubbling mixed with snot and phlegm and air, bubbling froth spilling from his nose every time he dragged in a rasping breath. It was so fucking hot. Marcus took a step forward, between the Brumak's hanging forelegs, and smeared his hands up Tai's front, feeling over the bulge of the Brumak's cock, slathering them in the slurry of ooze. He fed the mess right back to Tai, thick pudding-like globs of it jiggling in his palms, smeared across Tai's flushed face and shoved into his gaping mouth, even as Tai gurgled and spat, trying to swallow and just coughing the mess across Marcus' front. His thighs tensed, trembling, huge muscles slowly stretching as forced himself up, his feet braced against the Brumak's thighs, toes digging in, spread around the thick hornlike warts that bubbled up across its hide. A fraction of the Brumak's monstrous cock pulled out of him with a slurp and a gush of slime. He gasped, flooded gut shuddering, sagging back enough to reveal the misshapen lump of the Brumak's cockhead digging against the back of his abs, its tentacles writhing back and forth like huge snakes. Half its shaft was sunk into his ass, ring blown out, cheeks split wide open. Tai shifted his legs minutely, wheezing, and a squirt of pre erupted from his overstuffed ass, splattering against the beast's underbelly and drooling down. That squirt was followed by another, and another, until there was a continual flood of grimy, clumpy pre pouring down its shaft, huge ribbons stretching out into filmy translucent panes of slime, stretched all between Tai's legs and the Brumak's body. Sludge smeared under Tai's bare feet, and he tipped back, hand braced against the beast's belly. Tai's toes clenched, slurping now, and he squatted back down, bellowing as he took a good foot of the beast's cock before he had to stop and gasp, heaving, gagging on nothing, spitting up more chunky pre. The Brumak's cock was lodged nearly up past his ribs, into his chest cavity, and it shuddered and pulsed continually, each shot making Tai wheeze in time as the force of the eruptions pumped his diaphragm like a bellows. Tai gasped, drooling, slobbery spit spilling from his open mouth, turning into breathless rattles as he inched his squat down minutely more -- the lopsided lump of the Brumak's cockhead lurching up inside him, cockhead digging into his chest cavity. He lurched up, guts warping with a bubbling squelch, coughing and then spitting before drawing in a deep breath. Tai fucked himself brutally on the Brumak's cock, panting, entire body sheened and dripping with sweat and slime; arms braced against the beast's chestplate, hands grasping thick riveted knobs; feet spanning the beast's thighs, slipping in the sloppy layer of muck spurting from his ass. Already his gut was swollen and heavy, the wet weight of alien pre inside him churning up by his frenetic squats, sloshing and cracking across his insides, squirting out from his wrecked ass, pouring down his legs. His legs were hardly able to pivot in his pelvis, given the sheer girth of the Brumak's shaft, and he still pushed himself up and down, each repetition leaving him visibly more wrecked. Tai was treating it like a fucking workout: drenched in spit and pre, gouges across his shoulders sluggishly bleeding, but he still braced himself against the Brumak's thighs, squatting down and then forcing himself back up, fucking himself on its brutally huge cock. He roared, the _whoof_ of exhale as the beast's cock pulverized his lungs becoming more and more intentional until it became a bellow, Tai roaring as he took the beast's cock. His bellow ended with a warbling squawk, choked gasping as the cock hit his lungs, and when he drew up he sucked in a wet, rattling breath. Tai sagged back against the Brumak's underbelly, panting hard -- mouth hanging open, a continual mess of pre spilling past his lips. The Brumak's cockhead jutted straight out, a huge spike unbent by how it was halfway shoved into Tai's wrecked ass; Marcus could follow the curve from the root all the way to the tip, bulging out a half-foot past Tai's ribs, and when Tai leaned back that just stretched the bulge into something even more obscene, a giant, inhuman lump of raw, stretched flesh, squirming under the surface, twitching and flaring in minute pulses. Tai was wrecked: the flesh of his stomach and sides shredded in hundreds of messy stretch marks, the widest with blood sluggishly beading up from his wrecked flesh. And beneath that he was bruising, flesh a blotchy red-purple, darkening as his stomach took the brunt of each thrust, ballooning and warping out to contain the Brumak's pre. The Brumak's cock rippled, smacking Tai against its underbelly again, and then without any warning it erupted: his gut bloated out, flesh like so much rubber, warping out from the force of the shot, huge globs visibly spilling from the Brumak's cockhead and sluicing down his inner walls in vast, half-congealed bubbles, settling lower down, in his hanging gut. An enormous plume of grimy grey come erupted from his ass, spraying back against the Brumak's underbelly, but even with that his gut rippled and tore wider, each blast of come making it snap back and forth like there was a wild animal in there, violently surging in all directions. Tai just acting like an ill-fitting condom, body warped grotesquely around the beast's cock, ballooning out in bruised, bloody folds as the Brumak dumped its load in him. Tai sprawled on the ground, bloated gut bulging out from him like a foreign body, a thick, slimy waterfall of come pouring out of his cratered ass. Marcus reached out and gingerly touched Tai's wrecked ass: his cheeks were hot to the touch, flushed red. And sticky, a half-inch thick layer of tarry slime splattered all up and down his body, so Marcus had to scrape through it to touch the flesh beneath. Tai shuddered, huffing as Marcus dragged his fingers through the slime, down to the sloppy furl of his prolapsed asshole. A fat inch or two of guts hung out, like a stubby tail, bright red and throbbing. It formed a thick crater's-edge around the blown-open hollow of Tai's ass, slurping and pulsing. The Brumak's come was tar-thick, splattered in globs all over his ass and completely flooding his insides, the flood out less of a pour and more just thick, slimy cords slowly stretching out. Marcus' hand caught against the furl, flesh soggy, puffy, pulpy beneath his fingertips, and it was maybe more curiosity than anything else that had him slide his hand in: effortlessly, hardly even touching Tai's hole. It was like sticking his hand into a big vat of pudding. Hot and wet and slurping, and so bloated by the volume of come that he only brushed gently against the stretched-out walls of Tai's ass as he plunged his hand deeper. A thick, gummy upwelling of displaced come burbled out, forming a complete circle around his forearm; Tai's loose hole just gaped wider, Marcus' arm completely cocooned in the mess of Brumak come, only feeling Tai by the shudders and clenches of his internal muscles that stirred up the sloppy ocean of come inside him. tugging left and then right, Tai's puffy asshole catching against his forearm: one single broad point of contact as he stirred up the mess of come inside him, pumping back and forth with a syrupy squelch. only realized how roughly he was working Tai over when he came, the groans and pants that Marcus had, half-hypnotized by Tai's sloppy ass, tuned out rising into a gasping bellow. Marcus punch-fucked another orgasm out of him, Tai's fat cock thudding against his bloated gut, spurting a watery load out over his bruised and seamed skin. pulled out, Tai working his busted ass as well as he could, sucking and pulling on Marcus' forearm until he finally tugged free with a slobbery _schlorp_. Tai's hole shuddered, sucking on nothing, and spilled over itself, adding another furrowed ridge to the crater of his ass. "Fuck," Tai said, head pillowed on his forearms, turned to the side. "That was a fucking trip." His voice was a wreck, hoarse and buzzing, and he choked and coughed up a gummy mass of slime afterwards. [...] [ basically everything past this point is super ancient and probably should just be deleted the locust basically invade the base and bring a whole horde of locust + lambent and marcus gets fucked on the parade ground by a lambent berserker in front of everyone ] Myrrah sniffed condescendingly at the arrayed Gear forces, all of them to a one partly-transformed, not so much half-Locust as some bizarre new mishmash of them. "Humanity has fallen," she said. "You can join the Locust empire, or you can live here in your ruins; it doesn't matter to me. But consider this a... _diplomatic visit_." Crawling out of the E-hole behind her were more and more soldiers; drones in heavy ceremonial gear, Kantus priests towering over the others, in kilts and robes, immense bulky Boomers behind them, towering like ogres even over the other Locust. And then, after that... strange things, bodies blackened and glowing, raw Imulsion seeping out of angry sores. Drones stripped to the waist, skin black and ashy, their chests glowing from the inside out, with the faint shadows of bone on their skin. _Tails_ whipped behind them, spiny and serrated, coiling long and thin in arcing curves. Their eyes and mouths glowed, burning fluorescent yellow, and Marcus abruptly thought back to that morning, his eyes gleaming that bright red-orange in the mirror. "It's the Imulsion virus," he said. "Myrrah said she unlocked its code." "You remember well, Marcus Fenix," Myrahh said. "The lifeforms in the Imulsion have joined with us. Like your _mitochondria_, only vastly more effective. An almost self-contained power source. This changes everything -- nothing will be the same after this." She smirked at Marcus, her teeth sharp and daggerlike, a Locust jaw on her delicate face. "And you were only worried with the survival of your little nation. We have prospered." Behind her something huge was lurching from the E-Hole, immense tendrils whipping and crashing to the ground, coiling around rocky supports as something immense clawed its way up from the hollows below. It crested above the lip of the hole, and it took long moments for Marcus to place the beast. A _Berserker_. But one nothing like he'd ever seen before -- jaws serrated, milky Imulsion drooling from its mouth as spittle, and the huge tentacles were anchored to its back, six of them, huge stalks flailing around like they were tasting the air. That was nothing compared to the mess of its chest: glowing Imulsion-yellow, like the Lambent Drones, only its skin had torn open, just the bones of its ribs and raw Imulsion, dripping down onto the ground in a constant ooze. Even from this far away Marcus could _smell_ it, Imulsion vapors acrid on the wind, coiling up in solid vapors around the bulk of its body. It roared, raising up onto two legs for a moment, hands thrashing at the sky, before landing with a crash that shook the ground. The Locust carried the cry, a roar of triumph, fists raised in the air. And, between the Berserker's legs... for the first time, Marcus saw some bizarre Locust genitalia he _recognized_. He should, at least; it was the same thing he saw between his own legs these days. The Berserker's was the size of his entire body, but it was the same general shape. A Locust ovipositor. The Berserkers were the female sex, after all. It explained where all his eggs were coming from, at least.
[... and then the lambent berserker fucks him in front of everyone; cue mass orgy] The Berserker's footsteps shook the earth at it -- she, he supposed -- approached him, her ovipositor already starting to unfurl between her hind legs. It was just like his; half-covered by some heavy sheath, pulling back as the huge seven-spined head pushed forward, each individual fishhook tentacle flailing around, revealing the glowing-yellow inner flesh at the center. It seamed open, Imulsion drooling in a solid rope, mixing with the splatter drooling out from her cracked ribs, hitting the ground and hissing. Her tentacles lanced forward, spear-tip points sinking into the ground all around him, and she followed, her jaw cracking open, jaw catching on the ragged uniform he was still wearing. It was little more than a skirt, legs shredded, waist still wrapped around him, but the Berserker just clamped her teeth around the armored plates and twisted, tearing it off in a single vicious rip, leaving him completely naked in front of the crowd. It wasn't like _that_ was new; all the COGs had seen him naked already, and probably half the Locust had too, from the twice-over gangbangs in the hollows. Her ovipositor extended further, stiffening. The thing was literally the size of his entire body, tip -- what would be his cockhead -- the size of his chest. He couldn't imagine taking that anywhere, ass, mouth. It was easier to think of himself fitting inside _it_; he knew how stretchy Locust hide could get. It wasn't his mouth she was aiming for. She reared again, Imulsion slime showering across Marcus' body, hissing and spitting as it drooled down his naked skin, and her ovipositor slung up, smacking across Marcus' hip with enough force to bowl him back onto his ass, sprawled in the dirt. She padded over to him, chest pouring slime down on him in a constant rain, enough Imulsion it would've killed him instantly a few weeks ago. Now... now he was changed, and he breathed in the acrid vapors, a buzzing heat settling below his ribs. She stepped forward, head bowed down to watch, and for a second he thought he was gonna fuck her, his cock sliding right into the open, gaping hole between her fishhook spines. But then her ovipositor snapped together, spiny head aimed directly at him, and his own cock _unfurled_, spines bowing back the widest he'd ever seen, the gleaming red-orange hole at the center spread wide, slick and dripping. He had enough time to get out a hoarse "There's _no way_--" before she rammed forward, the very tip of her ovipositor jamming against the open, dripping hole of his cockslit. It was the same as when he'd fucked Carmine: -- the younger Carmine -- her tip lodged just inside the ring of his slit, and then she _erupted_, bilious yellow Imulsion thundering up her ovipositor, spraying inside him with a soggy splat. It was _boiling_ hot, literally, bubbling and frothing as it spilled across him, just another thing that a month ago would've killed him, but here he just drank he heat in, sizzling and burning inside him. He could _feel_ the change, inner walls becoming sloppier, drooling fresh new slime, and when she shoved in a half-second later his cock bowed outward, taking in some minute fraction of her ovipositor. He wailed, of course, screaming his lungs out, voice cracking, but it didn't _hurt_ precisely. Just stretched, way, way more than anything every should. His cock -- the _inside_ of his cock -- was a tight band, his thick Locust-hide slowly bulging outward. Sloppy bulges of Imulsion worked their way up his shaft, more pouring out from inside, gulping and slurping. The Berserker shuffled forward, just shoving Marcus back, a wet trail in the dirt and dust as his ass dragged back against the rocky rubble. [ ... and then all the COG guys turn into half-locust monsters and the ship becomes a frenzy of them fucking each other and fucking marcus ... ] Marcus was dizzy and feverish when he woke up, rolling over sheets and sitting up, only realizing belatedly that he was back on the ship, in his own bed. There was absolutely no hope that that whole interlude had been a bizarre dream; his pregnant stomach was a constant heavy weight, his skin lined with stretch marks. His cock -- if he could even still call it a cock anymore -- was flushed and enormous between his thighs, the base literally as thick as his thighs. Its fishhook petals were engorged, the flesh so swollen they couldn't lock together, and now they split halfway down his shaft, red, wet flesh bulging between them, slick reddish slime drooling from what had been his urethra. The hooks on his cock -- practically tentacles now, shifting and lashing of their own volition -- curled around his swollen stomach, reaching for his fingers as he touched down his body, hooking tight around his hand and forearm as he cupped his massive cock. His fingers slipped inside, a gush of red slime pouring out over his sheets as he pushed deeper, his entire hand vanishing inside his spread cock. He groaned, voice deep and gravelly, absolutely bizarre sensations racing up through his body as he felt around inside the shaft of his cock. His skin was velvety soft, bulging and smooth, slime coating every surface. "He's awake!" came a yell from outside, and then silence. Only in retrospect did Marcus realize the hallway outside his cabin had been _loud_, not in voices but in the sound of movement, the heavy thuds of bodies crashing against bulkheads, occasional roars that he couldn't place as either human or locust. The door crashed open before Marcus could do anything about it, revealing him kneeling on his bed, his stomach swollen past possibility with eggs, wrist-deep in his freakish cock, red slime rapidly spreading across his bed, soaking through the sheets and mattress. A -- _person_ -- stepped through the door, having to stoop low to even clear the frame, and for a second behind him Marcus could see the hallway absolutely trashed, lights broken or flickering, the hallway itself bulging outward, ceiling cracked and gouged, floor gratings bowed low, the panels on the walls broken or bulging inwards. The door swung shut before he could identify any of the _people_ in the crowd packing the hallway, leaving him staring at the person in front of him in confusion. "It's total chaos out there; everyone's waiting for you to wake up." It was _Dom_ in front of him, Marcus realized with a jolt. The man barely even looked human anymore; locust-tall and thick. He wasn't wearing COG armor anymore, probably because they didn't make anything that fit eight-foot, four-hundred pound monsters. What he _was_ wearing looked like a slapdash kilt made from what used to be his uniform, and, with a flush of heat down his body, the front of it was bulging outward, thin slime dripping down the inside of it as Dom stared at him. His bare chest was still as hairy as ever, but the skin was swarthy and pale in leopard spots, locust splotches across his shoulders and hips. The tattoo down his arm was, in anything, even starker, black ink across his mottled skin. His hands and feet were leathery and rough, fingernails growing short, dark claws on his newly-gigantic hands; his feet looked more like _talons_. At least his face was still the same, bearded and as ugly as ever, though even through his beard Marcus could tell his jaw was thicker and heavier. "What the hell happened?!" he asked, jerking his hand from his cock with an obscene slurp, red slime pouring across the bed in streams. Dom's kilt shuddered, precome slopping down onto the floor with an audible patter, already seeping through the heavy fabric. "After you got taken, the infection went crazy -- a locust contingent showed up and dumped fucking vats of Imulsion in the engine room, and the fumes drove everyone fucking nuts." Dom grinned, revealing his teeth had grown into nubby tusks. "There were a few days where everyone was fucking too much to care about anything else, and the locust joined right in." "You got back last night, with fucking Myrrah herself in tow, and if you thought the Imulsion drove us nuts, fuck, try having three queens dumped onto a ship full'a horny guys." "Three?" Marcus said dimly. "Fuck, what happened to the kid? Some newbie COG, got --" "The third. We got him in isolation in the medbay at least until he burns through the transformation, or else the fucking smell would get everyone lining up to fuck him." Dom eyed Marcus' cock, tendrils slithering across the bed as if they were reaching for his cock. Under his kilt it looked like he was just pouring slime from a bucket, the front end soaked and clinging to his legs, a solid sheet of slime pooling at his feet. "Now -- ah, fuck" and his cock jerked, lifting up his sodden kilt, "I tried to be professional but that fucking _smell_, Marcus, _please_--" Dom's voice broke off on a groan, his cock skewing out from his kilt, absolutely massive even for a locust, his cockhead gaping wide and spurting out precome with enough force that it splashed across the bed. "Get on the fucking bed," Marcus growled, legs spread wide, cock bobbing up, his tendrils spread wide, his gaping vent on show. Dom leapt for it, tearing his kilt off with an offhand gesture, and it wasn't even a second until his cockhead was lined up with Marcus' heavy folds, his entire cock slamming inside him in one thrust. Marcus threw back his head in a guttural groan, cock milking and squeezing Dom as he started thrusting, his huge, flared locust spines just massaging the inside of Marcus' dick, the muscles squeezing and pulling him deeper. His tendrils wrapped around Dom's waist, leaving slimy trails across the pelt of hair on his stomach and across his thighs, winding around his hips and balls -- his _immense_ balls, like huge swollen bombs ready to burst -- and locking them together, so that Dom could only pump the last fraction of his cock, a few short inches shoving back and forth, his balls slamming against Marcus' unfurled cunt and sending up sprays of fluid, heat and friction surging up Marcus' cock. Dom came almost instantly with a grunt, suddenly shooting come deep inside. His balls drew up tight, trembling between his huge thighs as Marcus' tendrils slid across them, his cock still pistoning back and forth, Marcus' muscles milking him until he finally stopped coming. He didn't go soft in the least, spreading his hands over Marcus' shoulders and pushing him down into the bed as he started again, cock making the most obscene squelching slurping noises as it pummelled Marcus' cunt. This time he lasted a little longer, but not very; it wasn't even a minute until he gasped out and came again, another load vanishing deep inside Marcus. He looked entirely ready to go again, cock still rock hard inside him, but then the door crashed open. "Yo, we gave you your alone time," came a loud voice at the doorway, and Marcus looked over to see Baird, absolutely naked and quite comfortable in his half-locust skin, his cock an absolute _sledge_ between his legs, barely thinner than Marcus' own cock. He was leading a _group_; Cole and Stratton were with him, what had to be an _actual_ locust behind them. "You know what I said about people lining up to fuck you," Dom said, still fucking Marcus in short, rough strokes. "_Excuse_ me," came a voice, and the locust, then Stratton, then Cole, were all bodily shoved out of the way by an advancing person, all while Baird strutted forward to stand at the foot of the bed, his cock spines fully extended and flared, the cockhead itself just as big as his _actual_ head. But then the same person shoved him sideways, knocking him aside, and Marcus got an eyeful of Anya Stroud standing at the foot of his bed, naked as the day she was born, her ovipositor drooling bright yellow slime. "If we're going by level of intimacy, _I'm next_." She eyed Dom, still balls-deep inside Marcus. "And maybe I should've been first." []
[ ha ha flash-forward 25 years to jd and his crew where in THIS CONTINUITY: * JD is marcus and skorge's kid. he basically looks the same save that he's got big broad swollen nipples that leak milk sometimes (from his dad) and a big puffy cunt w/ a big dick inside it (from his other dad). also he's vaguely locust royalty * uh the woman whose name i don't remember who is implied to be myrahh's granddaughter is explicitly myrahh's granddaughter. she's also vaguely locust royalty. they're friends and they hang out in the underground langoriously being fed grapes by elite theron servants BUT THEN one day when they're out and about they're waylaid and ambushed and separated from their guards and they end up running into... * del's basically in the formerly-stranded human outskirts who're living in these isolated compounds in fear of the INFECTIOUS LOCUST HYBRIDS that have taken over most of what was, uh, COG? territory. whatever the pre-cog country was. and blah blah blah peril but he ends up basically guiding them back to some nest and then kinda waffling about coming in. hes got a crush on jd ofc. also jd all throughout is starting to go into his first heat and he's rly wanting del to fuck him. "wow humans are weird", jd thinks all the hybrids are, AS IS THE STYLE OF THIS FIC, v. unrestrained and libidinous and del is v. taken aback by whatshername just flat-out being like "yeah he's going into heat and it's his first heat and he wants you to fuck him" but anyway this leads to them running into * SOME LOCUST GUY WHO WILL HAVE A NAME, uh, jd's 2/3rds brother and also marcus & skorge's kid. but from the clutch where he was all bloated up w/ riftworm cum. so he's this... riftworm naga? like a kantus torso w/ this larval riftworm lower body. w/ a dick like an arm. as in: vaguely segmented by a medial ring, & then echidna-like with six cockheads that are basically a splayed hand w/ two thumbs. he's infertile* and due to fucked-up genetics cums opaque grey sludge + opaque grey sludge inside of giant malformed gel eggs. * (a bunch of the hybrids are, which is good b/c otherwise their population growth would be through the roofffff. marcus has like literally ~1k kids at this point since he's constantly producing clusters of eggs, the eggs get fertilized basically every time he gets fucked, and he doesn't even have to wait to bring them to term before getting another clutch b/c he can just pump them into another host.) he brutally rails jd while del watches. del is like. isn't that incest. and jd is like. dude like about a third of this generation is related to marcus and a pretty hefty chunk is related to skorge too. plus up until recently i couldn't actually get pregnant. so. anyway locust riftworm naga guy lifts up jd's legs and rails him hard against the ground and maybe jd's swollen breasts start to leak milk all over while he's sobbing. & del milks him while jd mouths at his dick through his pants & then blows him afterwards del asks about the whole 'sex tfs you into a locust' thing and jd is like. "oh that doesn't really transmit through childbirth. just don't fuck anybody old enough to be yr dad and you should be fine." anyway at some point del fucks jd in both his ass and his cunt while both are already totally overflowing w/ slimy locust jizz b/c jd gets around & then jd gets all mpregged up. probably del gets fucked at some point too ] it was -- impossible. It writhed around like a snake, shedding lines of greasy pre all over, folding over itself in bulges. The cockhead looked like a two-thumbed hand, almost: broader than it was thick (but oh, it was thick) and with six lumpy stubs, each as long as first knuckle of a finger. They each ended in a puckering sucker-mouth, burbling up pre. The naga-drone curled his cock around itself, smearing his length with pre, and then... Del knew that was the point, that they were gonna fuck, but somehow that didn't hit him. It seemed physically impossible. Forget an arm, the locust's cock was just about as thick as one of JD's _thighs_; it was too huge to ever fit into his ass. Neither of them seemed to notice the obvious impossibility. Del swallowed, staring, entire body flushed, with hot tingles racing across his chest. Because on some level he knew it was going to happen, and that he was gonna watch. not against his asshole but against his _cunt_, which -- hell, he'd been calling it a cunt, _JD'd_ been calling it a cunt, but he hadn't seriously thought anybody would fuck him in it. JD whined, rutting back against the drone, and Del got to see his fucking trunk of a cock actually take some of JD's weight, pushing back against him where it was curled around his ass and thigh, its chunky weight visibly flexing. What a fucking dick. It slithered and slurped its way between JD's thighs, rutting its chunky tips over his splayed cunt lips. It was far, far too huge to just push inside; just one of the tips was about the thickness of a cock, and all together... it would be like Del shoving both his hands right up inside him. He swallowed again, because, hell, if JD could take this then Del _could_ just shove both his hands up inside. JD whined again, back arching -- and it had to have been to give Del a better view, with the way JD's gaze darted over to him for a second -- and the drone's cockhead pushed against his cunt, spreading his lips, one tip and then another slurping over inside him. The drone kept pushing, the curled loop of his cock straightening, and JD's lips spread wider and wider to the sound of his shuddering whines, a messy drool of pre and his juices spilling out around the drone's cock, dripping down to the ground. The drone had to actually lean in, cup his cockhead in his hand, use his fingers to peel JD's cunt even wider, slowly feed half the bulk of his cockhead inside, letting his tips pop inside one by one. All that and it wasn't even a fuss: JD just spread, wider and wider, whimpering and whining but cunt yielding easily, until his lips were stretched into an obscene gaping mound, flushed a deep red and clenched tight around the drone's cock. But that was it, just that and they'd shoved the enormous lump of the drone's cockhead into him. Not a hitch, not a break, not any fucking _lube_, save for the slimy, greasy mess that was spilling from JD's cunt. His cunt just swallowed it up. Del dimly realized he was leaning so far forward he was practically on his knees, squatting down to stare at JD's brutalized cunt. He brushed a hand across his mouth; he was actually fucking _drooling_, mouth hanging open, staring dazed as JD prepared to get fucked. And that was the thought too: still just preparing, even after he'd swallowed up the biggest cock Del'd ever seen. The drone hadn't even started to fuck him yet. And from JD's squirming whines, his juices practically squirting out each time his cunt lips flexed, he was getting impatient. Beyond needing to get fucked. He'd said before: not just fucked. Bred. cunt lips gaping, a continual mess of gritty grey come spilling out of him in thick, gloppy rolls. cockhead like the fattest clit Del'd ever seen, spreading the folds of his cunt. JD moaned, lips clenching, squirting out another slimy gush, his juices mixed in with the gunk the big naga-locust came, looking like wet cement. He slid his fingers over JD's lips, bruised and swollen up into puffy swells, soft and heavy when he dug in. And then-- deeper, his cunt practically sucking his fingers in, internal muscles spasming, dragging. He followed JD's cock, a long curving line of hard muscle, fingers sliding knuckle deep. hand and forearm sunk into JD's gaping cunt, big rubbery muscles clenching all around his forearm, JD's supple inner flesh squelching and sliding along his skin. JD let out a shaky whine, cunt clamping down hard, and came again, cockhead gushing against his bruised folds and spilling down across Del's front, more slick slimy juices pouring down from inside him, along Del's forearm, squirting out his cunt. the elastic rim of his cervix, fluttering and pouting. He was still slathered in grit from the locust's load, catching under Del's fingertips, more oozing out in thick clots from JD's cervix. elbow deep up inside him, fingers prying into his womb, and JD was a flushed, sweating heap, sobbing and shuddering as Del felt around inside him, cunt wrapped around his forearm, cervix a hard tube all across his wrist and hand, womb a flooded mess of gritty sludge. Each clench sent some of the big naga-locust's load squirting out, streaming down his arm to finally spill out from JD's bruised cunt in heavy arcs, splattering against Del's side, Locust come and JD's juices mixing together into a sloppy slurry. "Please," JD wailed, hips jerking back and forth, fucking himself on Del's fist, every muscle rippling and clenching hard as he came again, a flood of juices squirting out of him, head snapping back as he came, entire body spasming. a rubbery _crack_ as his fist rammed into JD's cervix full-force, the muscle warping against his knuckles before he forced it open. JD bellowed, body rising up in an arch, all the muscles of his cunt spasming wildly around Del's arm. There was a sharp impact as he hit the far wall of JD's womb, a warbling groan bursting out of his throat, his body spasming, and then Del clenched harder and wrenched his fist out just as hard, a muffled _slurp_ coming from deep inside JD's body each punch forcing out a spray of gritty come, each withdraw sucking around his arm, leaving JD's cunt gaping open, runnels of ooze spilling down the folds of his bruised inner flesh. was exercise; it took _work_. All the Locust were fucking insatiable, and that went for JD too apparently. Del was drenched with sweat, chest aching, arm burning. Del collapsed against JD's front, aching arm still wedged up inside him, panting. JD was still whining, dazed. "Fuck, fuck, more, please, Del," he mumbled, rutting against him, the hugely-bruised lips of his cunt catching on Del's elbow. Del just huffed, groaned, JD clamped so hard around him he had to brace his other hand against his stomach and pull, arm emerging in a shower of slime. Yeah, he was bruised: wrist uniformly purple from the clench of JD's cervix, with darker rings banded all up and down his forearm. The guy had a grip on him. Del shook his hand out, flinging JD's juices all over, feeling phantom-sensations all up and down his forearm. even with his cervix prolapsed halfway down the inside of his cunt there was no way Del was even gonna be brushing against it. His thrusts just rubbed his cock in shallowly, hardly even pushing past the bruised, heavy meat of JD's prolapsed cunt lips. "Gonna-- fucking come!" Del panted, cock aching, balls drawn up so far they practically popped back inside his body. His orgasm exploded all through him, waves of heat racing across his skin. His load squirting out of him in hosing blasts, audibly slapping against the inner flesh of JD's cunt, slimy runnels mixing with his juices and pouring back down Del's shaft. JD came hard, eyes rolling back into his head, moans turning into garbled, slurred grunts as his cunt milked Del for his load, pulsing and pulsing whined sadly as Del pulled out with a slurp, cock entirely soft and drenched wrapped his hand around it, stroking it to catch the comingled slime and shoving it back inside his oozing cunt