The Spawning Pools

Tags:

Links:

1. Mother

I took a hesitant breath, closed my eyes, and leaned back against the cold gritty cement wall. It was dark and quiet down here, in the distance I could hear the occasional drip from the sewage pipe but nothing of the bustling city beyond. Sub Basement twelve, bottom of the enemy’s tower. There was no better place to gestate, no better place to hide. We would have our revenge at last.

The war had spanned nearly twelve centuries. Slowboats between the two stars carrying weapons of mass destruction and carnage. Each time we attempted to sign for peace, another silent death ship would arrive and start it all over again. I laughed to myself for a moment, someone, somewhere was probably signing a peace treaty as we spoke, or had signed, or would soon sign. It didn’t matter, estimates put nearly a million silent shots already fired but not yet intercepted. The war would be fought long after the enemy was dead, but the enemy would be dead, there would be no more shots taken.

I took another breath, deeper, calming. My hands shook and my stomach clenched around a knot of visceral terror, but I forced it under control. The control lasted long enough to press the lump behind my right nipple until the lump ruptured, vanished, and the hormones washed into my bloodstream. It was done. There was no turning back now, no way to escape what was to come.

One more deep breath of the sour, sewage tainted air, and I laid myself comfortably down on the cold debris strewn floor and closed my eyes. Already there was a cramp within my stomach, a growing pain that would only get worse over the next few hours. They had given me the basics of what was to come, and had offered to let me witness the test footage. I had declined, I did not want to lose my nerve at the last minute.

I had crossed nearly a thousand light years in cryosleep. Everyone I had ever known and loved were dead and gone. I—should have been dead and gone long ago as well. I lived only for this purpose, for this moment in time. What happened to me afterword would not matter. I gritted my teeth and pumped my fist out once, a silent cheer of sorts, but it felt hollow. I didn’t want to die.

The cramp bloomed into a gurgling heat that spread through my digestive tract. I wet myself, suddenly without control. Urine splattered against thighs and pooled on the dusty concrete below. How humiliating. I would face worse before the end, I knew. I laid a hand over my swollen belly, the pressure was intense and deeply disturbing. Rapid gestation, the life within was ripping nutrients from my body as fast as it possibly could and demanding more. I felt feverish, starved, and I was growing confused. Bloodsugar crash. I dumped the contents of my water bottle down my throat, syrupy sweet and rich in vitamins. It helped.

Fat melted away rapidly, visibly. I’d packed on a few extra kilos just for this, but it was shocking to watch my skin sag before my eyes, and watch my gut stretch outward, millimeters per minute. Pressure, pain, cramping, hunger, and… and lust? Oh great pretender! They had not told me this. I knew, I knew the spawn would inflict pheromones and hormones upon it’s victims, but it’s own mother from the womb?

I laughed once, then covered my mouth in shock. No sound. No suggestion that someone might be here. No warning. Moisture welled from my sex. I rolled onto my back and reached around my stomach and between my naked thighs. Soon I wouldn’t even be able to do that much. I fingered myself slowly as the life within grew. It had begun to move, a violent twitching that tugged against my spine. It felt almost pleasant. I wondered what a natural child would feel like, kicking within. My other hand laid to my navel, caressed in a circle, then down under the swell. Skin was taut as a drum and threatening to split. I continued to masturbate and ignored it.

Something ruptured within at last, the rapid expansion too much for my body to adapt to. I didn’t care. My sex gyrated against a rusty protrusion of rebar, gouging and scraping at my inner walls. I was on hands and knees, stomach on the floor, dragging, blood running in tiny rivulets from torn stretch marks. I slammed my hips back, buried that jagged metal inside, and came again. I couldn’t stop myself, the thoughts in my head were too disoriented to care. I pulled forward, then collapsed onto my engorged breasts. Milk splattered free to mingle with blood, piss, and sweat.

Something else tore inside, I could hear it, a strain, a stretch, a creak, then a sloppy wet noise. I sobbed aloud and arched my back. I clenched down. I bit back a howl of indescribable sensation, just a nasal moan came free. Dark green fluid with streaks of crimson splattered the wall behind me a moment later. It was time. I closed my eyes once more and laid my face to my arms. They were just skin and bone now, barely any muscle left, but it was all the pillow I had. I spread my knees wide, let my weight rest upon my tattered gut, and waited for the end.

It came, violent and fast. Something struck my cervix from within, already stretched open, that strike ripped it apart. My child writhed and thrashed against the back of my vaginal passage, and forced his way free, millimeter by millimeter. I tore, I bled, my pelvis cracked and thighs parted grotesquely. Then at last a pale white hand tipped in black claws reached free and grabbed my right cheek for leverage. A second grabbed my left thigh, then a head forced it’s way free. The child was the size of a two or three year old already, and he destroyed me as he departed.

With a final strain of my tortured body, I rolled myself onto my back and stared up at my son in the dim ruddy light. Four legs, two arms, a monstrous head full of teeth, and a body like an unshelled lobster. His backside twitched, no real tail, but a spade like protrusion tucked in and the seam that spanned from centaur like chest to rear end, split. A trio of muscular appendages emerged from the base. They swelled and writhed in the air, glistened in the light, then spat more dark green foulness onto my sunken stomach. Another trio emerged from half way up his middle, then a third further up, and a fourth from the closest cleft of his underbelly.

I gazed up at him as those twelve writhing members released, and drenched me head to toe in slimy waste. I shuddered in disgust as my empty stomach heaved. The flavor that filled it was remarkable only in it’s sourness and a pungent animal musk I had never known until that moment. Then, he collapsed atop me, legs buckling, and buried his head into my chest—to nurse.

I wrapped my arms limply about him, my son, and held him to me. Monster he was, addled and exhausted as I was, I loved him. He drank and drank. Deep wet swallows that pulled the milk from my aching breast. Sharp teeth gouged at my nipple, blood dribbled, but that was okay. “Mother is here for you,” I told him hoarsely, then spread my thighs and laid my head back. He accepted my offer.

He had a need, genetically engineered into him, a desperate and monstrous desire to breed. Minutes old, ravenous and weak, it didn’t matter. His spade of a tail tucked in between my thighs, smeared slime and blood out of the way, and the cleft parted once more for that aft trio to emerge. He didn’t know what to do with himself, not yet. I reached my weak arm down, between us to grasp one of his slippery members. It wriggled within and around my fingers, twined and twisted. Squishy, pasty clots dribbled from the slit into my palm and clung. I pushed him into my torn and broken sex. Tried to clench, but found no strength to do so. His aft end jerked forward, and the two upper of the three members sank as far into me as they would go… which was incredibly deep. They stretched, flexed, and wove their way back and forth until he could reach no deeper.

His third, lower shaft writhed between my legs, but did not enter. His head rose and he looked at me once, with all eight of his dark black eyes. Was he seeing me? His Mother? Or his next victim? I shivered as I stared back into those eyes, my hear raced and breath quickened. Fear. I felt fear. I grasped his third shaft and wedged it between my ass cheeks. The tapered tip found my pucker and I screamed with the sudden painful intrusion. He sank in like lightning and wormed his way through my colon into my lower intestine.

My open mouth was suddenly filled and silenced. The three members below his chest struck as he laid himself down atop me. I gagged and choked as the clay like slime coated my teeth and tongue, then down my throat one of the three slid. My neck bulged, chest heaved, then stomach clenched as he painfully forced his way past and into me. The tip of another member squirmed it’s way into my nose as far as he could, while the third smeared over my right eye and curled in, under the lid to spread that messy mucous around my eyeball.

A second passed, two. Below, he attempted to penetrate my navel. Then with a sharp, gut wrenching pain, succeeded. Above, his members curled around my flaccid breasts, empty of milk now, and tried to slither up the milk ducts inside. Barely pores to begin with, now they tore under his desperate attempt to penetrate, and he invaded me. I shuddered, silent, helpless, and very rapidly losing the ability to move. His sludgy mucous numbed quickly, nerves failed, and I could only feel the deepest of sensations as he gyrated and bucked atop me.

I could hear the gurgling and gushing sounds within as he ejaculated for the first time. “Good boy,” I cooed at him in my own mind. I could tell he was enjoying himself as he burrowed into his broken mother. With his release, more numbing mucous spread throughout. I smiled, the pain faded, my purpose was complete. I felt him withdraw, just a faint tug at my neck and hips. I watched with one good eye as his twelve members writhed in the air, still drooling clots of green. Then his jaws parted wide, impossibly wide, like a snake opening to feast.

I stared into that muscular throat. Had he grown larger since he was born? Probably, but he seemed so much bigger than was feasible. He struck like the aforementioned snake, razor sharp baby teeth closed behind my head. Darkness. I stared into darkness, into oblivion, into my son’s throat. Three tongues curled around my face, then tugged. Powerful throat muscles clenched and drew my head in. He sat back and my distant body dangled from his muzzle. He tilted his head back, tossed that body into the air above him, and opened his mouth once more. I saw one last vision of his gaping throat, so very much like a snake, as I fell toward it.

My head lodged behind his tonsils. He swallowed. My shoulders pressed against the corners of his maw. He swallowed. My right clavicle cracked. His tongue curled around and under my arm pit, he swallowed. My other shoulder slid into his cheek while the first snapped under the pull of his tongue, and arm folded in against my chest. I felt nothing, no pain, no pressure. He swallowed again and down I slid, down my baby’s gullet, down to death.

Warmth. I felt warmth. That was all. My chest heaved and shook, but I could not feel it. Blood pounded in my ears as my heart raced to pump the dregs of oxygen throughout my body. I exhaled. He belched above me, stealing my breath away. I was warm, I was safe, I was content. Like a child in a womb, I was curled in on myself, head tucked against my knees. A minute passed, perhaps two, and the darkness was complete. My thoughts stilled as oblivion took me.

The child settled down to nap. He needed to rest, to grow, and to digest. He had few thoughts, but many urges. There were patterns in his mind, things he could do by instinct without reason. He was a weapon born to breed. He felt nothing for the mother he had raped and devoured, only vague satisfaction at the heft of her in his gut. His brief pleasure within her body had tantalized him and he wanted more, so much more, but for now he was too tired. He knew no concept of mother, no concept of love, but somewhere within him there was a sense of completion and appreciation for the rapidly dissolving lump of flesh that had born him.

2. Roachrat

It was a simple job, find the break, patch the wires, then go back topside and never come back. I grumbled to myself as I closed another panel with a loud clang and moved on to the next. “There you fucking are,” I snapped, there it was. A whole cable had ruptured, crusted with something unpleasant. Dead Roachrat? I pulled it out, lopped off either end, then began the process of patching. While the wires re-knit I glanced around the dark tunnel and shuddered. Sub basement ten was a warren of duct work and conduit, swarming with Roachrats. I could hear them scuttling around beyond the light of my handheld. Neither roaches nor rats, but a native pest worse than either.

Somthing in the dark shifted, there was a faint sound of splattering liquid, then silence. I couldn’t even hear a scuttle for a good five minutes. Then I nearly jumped out of my skin as the wiring tool beeped it’s completion. I snatched it off, closed the panel, and called up, “Anne here, sub ten patched, give me a test.”

A moment passed, then my com crackled, “Patch good, go home Anne.”

“Thanks central, gonna need a long shower after this one.”

I packed up my gear and started trudging back the way I came. The floor squelched under my boots, but living pests stayed away. I hustled along, half a kilometer from the lift and wanted out as soon as possible. Something splattered the floor ahead of me, same sound I’d heard before. In the beam of my hand held I could see a line of green splatters atop the black-brown sludge. “Huh… leaky pipe?” I mumbled and raised my light. There was no pipe above, though there were a few smeared green marks like hand prints. I raised the beam further and…

My scream was silenced before it began. A trio of glistening green tentacles shot down straight at my face, one penetrated my throat and filled it before the breath left my lungs. The other two coiled around my head and neck, under my arm, and dragged me up into the air. My light had caught the monstrous thing, pale white, the open seam of it’s belly dripping with glistening green, and that arrowhead tail with the trio of tentacles. I thrashed and struggled, smashed my fists into the muscular members, and another trio shot out. My right arm was caught, coiled, my left arm pinned as my torso too was wrapped.

My tools fell to the floor with a clatter as I was pulled up into that monster’s cleft, face first into his backside, then the rest of me dragged in, between the sticky folds. I was wrapped, coiled, and trapped. He bolted, shot down the tunnel like lightning. I could just barely see from under his tail, I watched in horror as my light shrank behind us, as darkness enveloped, as… as something foul pulsed through that tentacle with a muscular twitch and gushed into the pit of my stomach. I heaved once, twice, the third failed as a numbness began to spread.

I was stripped, my belt torn apart by appendages, clothes split and tattered, then dropped away with soggy splatters. My mouth was filled with a strange inhuman musk, sour and… and… oh gods above! I arched my back as my sex was invaded and welcomed it! I felt so aroused, so eager, I’d never felt this lust before, never imagined any being could! The warm numbness spread through my body and out down my limbs, but a fire of sexual hunger burned in my depths and enveloped the monster’s member. I could feel myself clench, feel my own fluids flow and drip down my bare ass.

It was all so sudden. My mind could not catch up, and thought had become strange. I should have been screaming and struggling, though my body was limp and rapidly growing numb. Yet I had no urge. I felt at peace, I—welcomed—the most heinous of violations to be inflicted upon my body and craved more! The sensations between my limp thighs was like nothing I had ever experienced. I was not new to sex, but I’d never felt myself penetrated with such eager desire or with such inhuman flesh!

We descended an air shaft, deeper into the sub basement. I watched the tunnels and crawl spaces pass, splashes of darkness followed by faint ruddy light of indicators. Every indicator was red, nothing down here worked, no one cared, no one repaired it. A waft of sewage filled my nose as we passed a broken pipe, drooling black fluid into a vast pool below. Then we stopped not far beyond. I could see a disused store room, broken down and decrepit, rebar exposed from crumbling cement.

Tenderly the tentacles lowered me to the floor from the barely visible monster hanging from the ceiling. I couldn’t move, so I laid there staring up at him as sticky paste drooled up my throat and filled my mouth. My tongue went limp, lips numb, nose, and even teeth. I felt like I was in the dentist chair, but I could still taste, still smell, still faintly feel overfilled stomach deflate. It wasn’t vomit, it was more like soft clay as it pushed it’s way back up my throat and spilled from my limp jaw and down my neck.

The fire in my numb sex was overwhelming, and a pool of green muck spread under my ass to match the one drooling from my lips. I needed to breathe, I knew that, but I couldn’t make my lungs work. I was going to suffocate. The monster, he knew this. He stared down at me, his dark eyes glistening in the faint light. Twelve tentacles writhed in the air above me. Droplets splattered, clumps splatted, and his cleft spread open, then closed with each breath. His hips jerked, aft end twitched down, and the three tentacles that protruded, sprayed a trio of thin streams atop me. His messy release stained my breasts and protruding stomach, then shot up again as his hips twitched once more. Then he left me at a run and disappeared beyond the room.

The numbness faded a little, the lust intensified. I needed to breathe. Why didn’t I breathe? How long had it been since my last breath? My stomach clenched for the first time in what felt like hours. Green muck splattered from my lips in a wet fountain. My throat was clear, yet still I did not breathe. I ached for breath, there were stars behind my eyes, yet the dark tunnel of unconsciousness did not encroach.

Waves of fire burst within my depths. My womb clenched, my stomach rippled, and my thighs trembled, but I could not move beyond that. I felt like my limbs were weighed down with lead, I couldn’t even twitch a finger, yet I could feel every rivulet of lust as it drooled down my ass. My thighs were parted wide, knees splayed, and I wanted nothing else but to feel something inside, someone. I silently begged for him to come back, for his virile rape to continue. I wanted his children. I’d never wanted children, but I wanted his, the thought was repulsive, horrifying, yet I could not deny the urge.

With visceral horror at my own thoughts, I climaxed. A spray of green mucous reflected black in the ruddy light, and stained the wall beyond me. I stared at the wall, stared at my own thighs beyond the end of my nose, and shuddered, and sprayed again as my orgasm continued. I wanted to moan, but no breath passed my lips. I wanted to claw at my stomach and tear out the burning ember of lust, but my limbs were dead. The orgasm did not stop, did not slow. I felt like a rotary motor going faster and faster out of control. The explosions of sensation between my legs were mentally devastating. I forgot where I was, I forgot what was happening, only felt the endless sensations as my body stopped being me.

He returned an eon later. Or minutes, I couldn’t tell. His shadow moved across the wall, interrupting my vision. I rolled my head back and saw him approach on all fours. He was bloated, his swollen body drooped toward the floor and the cleft of his underbelly gaped open. I could see the four pockets from which the tips of his members protruded. Twelve members, twelve appendages, each releasing a continuous stream as if he couldn’t contain his bladder.

My mouth watered and lips worked around a soundless plea. He approached and settled his aft end between my open legs. He sat with his bloated belly laying upon my stomach. I could feel the fluid leak from him and pool below me. My sex clenched and twitched, untouched, labia swollen from hours of helpless orgasmic lust. “Please,” I begged, without voice. He seemed to understand. Those dark eyes stared into mine, stared into my soul, and somehow told me my purpose.

I relaxed and laid my head back again with mouth agape. His members penetrated my hungry vaginal passage. Angry hot flesh clenched upon cool slick tentacle. He pushed three inside, from aft middle, then his tail tucked and another three nestled between my cheeks. I expected pain, considering the sensations of my vulva, but I felt very little as his first member worked my pucker open, then speared my intestines and wriggled it’s way up, over, and around, all the way to my small intestine. I could feel my stomach bulge around his intrusion, a sensation I couldn’t have imagined enjoying before today.

My cervix was gone, I’d not felt it, no pain, no tearing, but it was gone. All three of his members nestled in my womb, even poked at the tiny Fallopian tubes, and some how I could actually feel it. A second and third member stretched my sphincter, tore it without pain, and nestled into my lower intestines.

My mind shuddered while my body told me, “This is where he belongs, this is my purpose, I am a dumping ground for lust!” It was only affirmation of my body’s claim when his tentacles released. Sticky streams of watery green fluid gushed from his cleft to bathe my upper body. A tentacle slipped out and aimed at my open mouth, but did not penetrate. Inside I could feel his release, feel him pissing into my bowels and womb. Was it piss? I didn’t know, I didn’t care. This was my purpose now.

My endless orgasm reached another climax and my hips shuddered against his tail. Fluid gushed from me and pooled between my thighs. Waste or ejaculate, it didn’t matter. It filled my mouth, poured up into my sinuses, drenched my body and pooled around the back of my head. My hair was matted already, but now it flowed free into the puddle and spread like a halo around my head.

Between us, his body shrank again, and my stomach swelled, inflated, and gurgled. He poured that fluid straight up my bowels and filled my body cavity through my womb. Why, I wondered, but could not ask and he probably couldn’t answer. Fluid poured down my slack throat, unswallowed. I felt like an open vase being filled. The taste was sour and musky as ever, and the smell of it in my sinuses was like burying my nose in an in heat animal’s vagina and inhaling the mucous. I inhaled again for the first time in ages, and my lungs filled with his waste. I never again exhaled.

He left me, full of his release, swollen beyond belief. Nothing flowed free, nothing left. It seemed important that nothing escaped, as if this was of my own will. Part of me resisted, was afraid, was still human. The imagery stayed with me for a time, my face buried in a dog’s sloppy cunt, breathing in her sticky wet mucous. I felt disgust at my own thoughts, but could not ignore them, nor the sensations of his leavings. Watery lungs, watery bowels, watery sinuses. I felt loose and invaded.

I climaxed again, then again, and again as my bowels bloated and began to cramp and stomach muscles ache. I wanted, at last, to surrender. I felt myself let go, a slow release of tension, something had been holding back, something human and full of ego. I surrendered. There was an audible snap behind my eyes, a spark in my vision, then an easing of awareness. Whether it was I who gave in, or the violation that broke me, I would never know, nor care.

He returned at last and my heart lifted to see him, eager for more. Yet he was not bloated this time. I eyed his long cleft, though saw no appendage emerge, it was clenched tightly shut, still leaking his thick green sludge. He stood over me, gazed into my eyes, and I gazed back, rapt with adoration. The first tentacle emerged from under his tail and uncoiled. A single Roachrat struggled in his grasp, squirmed to escape. I watched, mind voided of sane emotion. They were shiny things, chitinous, with four jointed legs and a long flexible trunk of a snout. From between it’s hind legs it’s tail wriggled, tucked, then curled upward toward me. A cleft parted and a slippery, translucent tube of flesh emerged, it’s cloaca erect.

I’d never seen a Roachrat in such detail before, never just stared at it. I felt no disgust or fear, not like before. They were known to burrow their trunks into flesh to feed and leave festering wounds in which to lay eggs. They had been harmless at first, eons ago, but had adapted to human civilization, and human anatomy. A Roachrat nest wound was something to be wary of, people had died from too many infestations. I felt a sudden urge of yearning lust as I stared at that protruding cloaca, a monstrous urge, inhuman.

The pest was lowered between my legs, and pushed slowly into my vulva. I shuddered violently as I felt it burrow. Those four jointed limbs clawed and tugged as it crawled inside. There was a sharp, sudden agony as snout burrowed into flesh. Blood flowed, I could feel it trickle. I could even hear the faint chewing. I climaxed again, then again and again. A second tentacle emerged, another Roachrat. This one erected male and dribbled milky yellow seminal fluid as it was lowered, then inserted.

Why? Why was he doing this. My skin crawled and stomach heaved as I felt the two squirm into my womb. Another bite, another wound, and then… “Oh gods, oh no no… oh yes!” I silently moaned as I felt the pest lay her eggs in the wound. I could feel each one, like a tiny pebble as it slid down her everted cloaca, between gnawed flesh, into the wall of my uterus. One by one, she laid her young. Atop her the male pressed his own member in and down, coiled around her ovipositor, and I could feel him ejaculate into the wound, spurt after watery spurt, the nest was fertilized.

I should have been screaming. I should have been horrified. I should have been clawing at my stomach to tear the vile thing from me. I did nothing of the sort. Lead arms laid limp, gaped maw had a stupid grin, and my sex trembled with lust as blood and Roachrat cum mingled and drooled free. “More,” I begged in my mind as I stared up into the horror’s eyes. He obliged me. Ten more tentacles emerged, five pairs of Roachrats. By twos, he nestled them into my womb, and made me into a nest. A nest… That was my purpose. I was a nest.

After he was done, he laid a clawed hand to my cheek and stroked. It was an affectionate gesture, I was sure. I had done good, I had served. I smiled with utter joy as he pushed a trio of appendages down my throat, and began to void himself to feed me. Sticky, clay soft clots filled my stomach. I had not realized how very hungry I was until that moment, but he had, he knew what I needed. I climaxed again in silence as the nest in my bowels grew to a dozen wounds packed with eggs. The orgasm at last faded to a dull throbbing ache, I was so, so very happy.

3. First Spawn

A puddle of green sludge filled a corner of the decrepit chamber. The cement floor had been eaten away by it, dissolved and digested. A sunken bowl of rebar mesh remained, pitted and jagged. The woman laid in that mesh, arms and legs atrophied and draped over it, her stomach bloated to nearly five meters across, and flat. Her hips were upturned, anus and vagina jutted above her distorted pelvis, a gaping figure eight. Her head lay limp, eyes and mouth open, but she did not see. The concept of Anne had vanished into the organic slush that she had become. The smile remained, but it was an empty smile, void of meaning. Her grinning lips were a vestigial flap around the only useful remaining part of her face, an orifice for the monster to deposit his nutrient rich waste, to feed the incubation chamber her bloated body had become.

That bloated stomach rippled. A ring of tiny waves shifted in the green pool of sludge. Her gaped vulva clenched, jutted further upwards, and voided a splatter of red stained mucous. Another ripple, her pelvis rose above the surface briefly as atrophied muscles seized. Something sloshed in her vaginal passage, once a tight, near virginal hole, now nearly a fifteen centimeters across at the narrowest and a meter deep. Within the mucous flowed and churned, overflowed again, and her first born raised his head. Chitinous, with dark eyes and a long trunk like snout, it had obviously been born of Roachrat, but it was no longer. He rose from her depths, twelve legs splayed out to either side, and pushed against flesh and rebar. It pulled it’s long body free and stood for the first time, glistening in the ruddy light. His aft tucked, clenched, and his cloaca parted to spill a stream of greenish mucous into his own mother’s gaping vagina. His lust was intense, his need impossible to ignore, and he was so, so very hungry.

The mutant darted away on twelve legs. It was the size of a large dog already and ready to grow further still. He reached the puddle of sewage and buried his trunk in it, then began to fill his newborn gut. Sweet as nectar, yet foul, the bacteria found no purchase within his genetically superior body. He drank the puddle dry and licked the floor clean. More, he needed more.

The cracked pipe above, dripped. His head rose, his snout reached, tasted the fresh drip, and probed at the ancient pipe. There was a loud crack, teeth bit through ceramic, the sewage released. He drank and drank until his stomach ached, then he settled into the vast pool. The entire storeroom was flooded half a meter deep. The pipe at last drained completely, at least until someone up stream flushed again. Feculent mess that it was, the mutant was happy, the spawning pool too was happy, her mouth opened and closed around that grin as she fed and nursed her young, his not yet born siblings.

The last box was unloaded from the cart and tucked away on the shelf. My hair was slicked back, face glistened with sweat, and my whole body itched with dust, but the job was done. I tapped the return command into the lorry and stepped aside as it retreated back into the hallway.

I sat my ass down against the wall and clicked over the com, “Ops, I’m clocking out, done for the day.”

Someone on the other end replied, “Understood, have a good weekend.”

I closed the com again and folded my arms behind my head. I was satisfied, completely and utterly. I didn’t like going down to sub basement four, and lately people had been telling weird stories, but there was nothing like a hard day of physical labor to put one’s mind at ease. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, the scent of old paper and ink filled my senses. It was wonderful.

Another aroma struck me a moment later. Sweet yet unpleasant, pungent as the depths of hell. I gagged and covered my nose, horrified. “What the… God, what is that?” I looked around, seeking a source of the wretched foulness. Nothing. I climbed to my feet and followed my nose into the hallway. It came from a vent, within I could hear something, a slippery rasp like wet sand. I popped the vent cover free and poked my head in and directed my light down, towards sub basement five.

From above me the sound came again. I glanced up just in time to see plates of chitin part and a wet green knot of flesh spill outwards and opened, right into my face. Sweet-sour filth filled my nose and mouth as the ventral release burbled free, then flesh followed, forced straight down my throat. I tried to pull away but a pair of hind most legs clasped at my neck, sharp claws held my head in place, pinned against the top of the air vent. I struggled, gagged, thrashed… and felt myself grow limp as my stomach was rapidly filled with waste.

My mind raced, lagging just behind the beat of my heart. I panicked, but as my limp body was dragged in to the vent, into the waiting limbs of the… what was it? I didn’t know. I was turned upside down, nestled against the creature’s belly, held in place by six legs as his tail tucked and flattened against my face, better to force feed my throat. Below me, the vent cover was pulled back into place with a click, and down we descended into the depths of the sub basement.

“Oh God, oh no…” I repeated in my thoughts. The rumors had been true, there was something down there, something horrible. It was a giant Roachrat, no question of it. Mutated beyond familiarity, but recognizable. Roachrats loved humans, loved to… loved to lay their eggs in them. I was about to become a living nest for the biggest Roachrat ever seen.

My jaw strained, numb, but I heard tendons creak and then pop. My tongue was pushed aside and tonsils spread until my throat tore. The first egg was laid. It wedged in my chest until fluid built up, then with a bubbly gush it hit the depths of my stomach, heavy as a stone. Still upside down, blood rushing to my head, I felt only the weight of it, no pain, no pressure as it was laid. Tears ran from my eyes into the monster’s vent, but I could see nothing.

A second arrived and climbed over the first, it held itself steady against the vent wall, pinned her and I in place, and tucked his tail under hers. His cloaca everted, his member probed at my lips, then coiled around her ovipositor, down my throat. He began to fuck my face. Slap after sticky wet slap, the vent pushed into my lips and his member sloshed up into my gullet. Fluid ran back down; it sprayed from my lips, filled my lungs, sinuses, and nose. The stink of it was vomit inducing, Roachrat but worse, so much worse.

He shuddered atop us, a violent thrust followed by a hissing sound, and a sticky mass of mutant genetic material lodged in my stomach to fertilize the egg. I wept in silence, horrified as he retracted and disappeared above. The egg would hatch, the larva would feed, and I would die screaming, clawing at my guts. The parasites were nasty things when small, the larvae could burrow through half your body, feeding on muscle and fat under your skin before leaving, what would one of that size leave behind? I would be an empty husk.

She withdrew her prolapsed vent. A flood of filth, mucous, and semen poured down my throat and sprayed from my gaped maw, into the darkness below. I couldn’t vomit, couldn’t cough, my muscles did not function. I couldn’t even breathe, yet I felt no dire need for it. Above me, the mutant lowered her head between my knees and pressed her trunk against the crotch of my jump suit. It was torn out a moment later, underwear tattered, and her snout nested between my cheeks.

I felt teeth, sharp and long. They emerged in a mass of muscle and cartilage, then carefully tucked against either side of my anus. “No… no no! Oh gods please save me!” I begged silently. The teeth closed and my sphincter was bitten through from both sides. The trunk retracted, the jaws withdrew inside, and half my colon went with it. The pain was indescribable, horrible beyond belief. Blood ran down my stomach and sprayed against the wall behind me.

The trunk returned and pushed into the gaping wound of my bowels and wormed it’s way toward the back of my colon. I felt her feed, not chewing or biting, but swallowing. Wet sludge drooled from pores in her trunk and bathed me and clotted in my wound around her. She worked herself deeper, into my intestines, following the curve around. I’d never felt anything quite like that, anal was not something I had ever done, nor had I ever imagined having my ass torn out to do it.

When she was done, my limp body was carried down, deep into the depths of the basement. Along walls, ceilings, and floors she skittered, carrying her new nest. My limbs were leaden and my breath stilled, but I did not pass out, I just remained in agony and terror. At last, she entered a flooded room bathed in dim red light, one corner of it had a pulsating mass of something, that something gaped, and another mutated Roachrat emerged from an orifice, then another after it, then it stilled.

The smell of the room was horrific, of feces and corruption, and something worse. To my confusion I felt my scrotum tighten suddenly and realized I was erect, erect and pressed against her chest. A rivulet of milky white drooled down her chitin, I had ejaculated without realizing it. Lust began to swirl in my thoughts, lust that made no sense. My balls twitched again, only a trickle splattered free.

She carried me to the fleshy mass in the corner, contorted twists of muscle and tissue wrapped around rebar and clung to the wall. It looked almost human. A woman perhaps, with her legs spread wide, vulva upthrust. I had seen a woman like that before, her sex wrapped around my thrusting member, milking it for every drop of cum. But this woman was distorted, twisted, knotted into something nightmarish. She lay in a slimy black pool, her upthrust hips lacked any sense of legs, and her stomach was a puddle of creamy skin coated in brown and green filth that spread for meters. I blinked, and the concept of a woman vanished, had I imagined it?

The mutant dropped me then, face first into the gaping orifice I had thought of as a vagina. I splashed into the mucous, and sank. My limbs did not obey, I could not swim, I just sank deeper and deeper until my face pressed into the inner depths. I ejaculated again, harder this time, helpless to stop. Lust burned in my stomach, filled my mind. I saw the distorted woman in my thoughts, her womb welcoming my seed. What mutant nightmares would she birth?

Things swam in the depths, nestled into my crevices, nibbled on my skin. I felt no pain, though the mucous around me darkened with my bloody. I came again. My poor testicles ached, my stomach cramped. Another helpless ejaculation, then another. Second by second things began to darken and grow confused. The pleasure was overwhelming, terror just behind it. What was happening to me?

Deep within, an egg cracked and the feast began. I felt it. The numbness in my core had faded, I felt it, felt skin shred, felt muscle tear, felt teeth scrape on bone. I arched helplessly and ejaculated a final time, blood jetted from my spent member and the contraction tore muscle and tendon in my groin. I felt it as a blissful release.

4. Bloody Harem

They were not men. They resembled men, at least as much as a child’s clay depiction of a man, but there was no mistaking them for men. I sobbed aloud as his claw curled in my hair and dragged me down the hallway. They had come up from the basement by the hundreds and in silence they captured everyone. I’d been closing down the shop for the night, ready to drag the gate down, when he’d grabbed me from behind. The reflection in the shop window, it looked like a naked man, but that had been an illusion.

I stared up at him as he dragged me, contorted flesh glistened, wet with green slime. Extra joints in his legs, an extra pair of arms. A face like a spider crossed with a Roachrat, eight black eyes and a long trunk with sharp teeth tucked inside. He was so strong, lifting me with one hand and dangling me in the air. I screamed, but no help came. Another ran past with two in his grasp, a struggling women and a silent, still man with blood running from his forehead.

He lifted me up, and pinned me against the wall. I looked down at him, dangling from my hair, and realized suddenly… The erection that rose from between his legs twitched and squirmed in the air between us. He was going to rape me. That member stood half a meter in length, a gentle taper from twelve centimeters across down to smaller than my pinkie, with a long slit along the underside oozing deep emerald slime. It curled in the air, twitched again, and sprayed a fine jet across my clothes from thigh to shoulder. It stank of something animal and pungent. My mouth began to water and my empty stomach heaved.

“Please,” I begged, “Don’t… just let me go.”

There was nothing human in those eight black eyes. There was nothing that saw me as anything more than prey. The crotch of my suit darkened as I lost control and wet myself. The scent of urine filled the air around us. His member twitched again, sprayed another jet of emerald, then pressed forward against that damp crotch. He jerked his hips, and it tore through. Fabric bunched and gouged as it was pushed inside my sex. He didn’t bother to undress me, didn’t need to, he raped me right through my clothing.

Another jet of emerald was splattered inside me, my first taste of what was to come. That sticky wetness coated my inner walls, and it burned faintly, briefly. The burn faded into a warm numbness followed by a sudden, bone deep clench. I moaned aloud and covered my mouth in shock. It felt so good, even through my terror and disgust. He lowered me until our hips were even and leaned in. Another cool splatter hit my cervix. I couldn’t feel him inside of me beyond a dull fullness, but I felt his ejaculate like liquid heat as it bathed my depths.

“What.. what is this?” I asked aloud, and got no answer.

His hips rolled, that member speared upward, fabric tore further as it was wedged into my cleft. My clit ached distantly, my labia felt raw and abused, but inside was different. My hips rolled involuntarily, and another helpless moan escaped. Lust overwhelmed fear. I’d never felt such desire before, never knew how much I longed to be penetrated. He was a monster! I stared into his cold inhuman eyes, but the terror faded until all that was left was hunger.

He began to walk again, slow and steady. He held me to his chest with two arms, the other two clutched my rear and kept me in place as he penetrated. I laid my head to his shoulder, rapt with pleasure and inner surrender. Behind him were droplets of emerald and crimson. I was bleeding. Why was I bleeding? His thrusts continued, on and on with his slow pace. I could feel every clench of his stomach with every step he took. I smiled to myself and closed my eyes, then nestled my face into his throat and inhaled his scent. Foul, yet pleasant all the same.

Down we went, a stairwell, then another. At last he brought me to a utility room full of silent machines and moaning women. He laid me gently down next to another woman, and a third was laid to my other side. His member slipped free as he stood up again. I tried to rise, but my legs wouldn’t obey me, my hands raised to reach for his phallus, and I managed to catch a single caress. Into my palm he jetted a blast of emerald, then left me without looking back.

I stared down into the cloudy green mucous. Not emerald, green opal. It was so beautiful it made my heart ache. Between my legs there was a flood of the fluid pouring free, mingled with a continuous trickle of blood. I wanted more, oh God above how I wanted more. I licked the sour mess from my palm, then smeared it into my nose and forehead. At my side, the woman who came before me shuddered as she stared back up. Green smeared her lips and soaked her jeans. She too had craved a taste.

Not far away but beyond sight, I heard someone cry out, then go silent with a choked gargle. Wet sounds followed, delicious, lusty, inhuman. My sex clenched on itself over and over again, stomach bunched and rippled, though I was numb from the ribs down. I watched myself, eager for more. I laid down and relaxed, waiting. Soon they would return, soon it would be my turn. I couldn’t wait.

A brief moment of clarity struck through my insane thoughts, and I mentally looked back at myself, horrified. The thought did not last long as the tickle of an orgasm began. I was not alone in that, all of the new comers were beginning to moan and shudder, helpless to resist the chemical pleasure forced upon them. It was wonderful. I curled myself over around the woman to my left, and laid my heavy hand over her pubic mound. Her sex was so hot, and swampy with clotted tangles of green sludge. I twirled my fingers through her folds, through her torn clothing, then brought them to my lips. Bloody and green, the coppery sour scent filled my nose. I licked, then suckled on them. Slowly my tongue numbed, but the flavor never left my senses.

An hour passed, more women were brought to the chamber. My stomach was beginning to swell, and so was the stomach of my companion. My limp body could barely move, but my hand managed to caress her, to feel the life within. It had only been hours, but she already felt a month or two pregnant. My own stomach was no different, it made my heart flutter. Fear, maybe, lust, certainly, excitement thread through it all.

“What are these marvelous creatures?” I asked my companion through numb lips.

She looked back at me through heavy bedroom eyes and tried to speak, but her tongue couldn’t form a coherent word. To my other side I heard, “Genetic weapons, have to be. We’re all dead.”

“Yeah,” I replied, then closed my eyes. There was no fear in that word, just a sense of finality and disturbing satisfaction.

Time passed, I slept, I woke. My stomach squirmed with very active life. I hungered, but no one came to feed me. I could hear women talking quietly between occasional moans, but no monsters. They had left us here, pregnant, and set off to find others perhaps, or to fill other rooms. I wanted to be penetrated again, but there was no one to do it. My sex was an endless churning heat, and my mind was on the verge of cracking from the desperation. I was not alone in my state, either.

I had fallen asleep again, and woke to a howl of pain and pleasure. The first of our children were born. I could not see to that aisle of the room, but after the panting and sobbing ended what followed was the most wonderful sound imaginable. Wet slapping and grunting, violent, urgent and wonderfully inhuman. She moaned, whoever she was, then screamed with climax… or was it something worse? I could not tell.

Another, then another were born, the mating frenzy grew. By ones and twos, the women gave birth all around me. Under my touch, I could feel my companion’s stomach writhe and squirm, as if egged on by his brothers. My own womb clenched and shuddered under my own child’s eagerness. Was he already mating with me before birth? I couldn’t be certain, but it felt like it, violent thrusts, and undulations…

At my side, she screamed. Her hips twitched as if to arch her back, but she couldn’t move. Her stomach rippled, and a flood of pale milky-green gushed from between to puddle across the floor. Red followed, then her scream choked off as teeth clenched, and I witnessed her son as it slithered free. Twelve tentacle legs and a human torso with Roachrat like snout protruding from where the head should be. Eight black eyes circled that snout in all directions. He crawled free from his mother and stood tall, nearly the height of a full grown man, and from the center of those twelve tentacle legs, three dark green phallus erected, identical to his father’s.

Twelve legs wrapped around her waist, under her rear, coiled her legs, and he thrust those three members into her. His afterbirth acted as lube as he pushed into her, all the way to her uterus. His mating was violent, and she took to it like fish to water. She thrashed, moaned, and lost all sense of place. Her body pressed into mine, her lips against my shoulder, teeth met skin. I didn’t mind.

Then it was my turn. The mad thrashing within came to a violent crescendo. My stomach jutted upward, then the trunk forced it’s way through my cervix and out, into the open air. Milky jade sprayed from it and my upthrust passage to splatter across the women behind me. Then he forced his way free, muscular limbs rolled, twisted, unrolled and grabbed at my thighs, waist, and knees to pull himself out.

The second he was born, he returned to my torn crotch and slithered his limbs under my jumpsuit to entwine me. My son, he had one thought in his newborn mind. I screamed aloud as I felt those three members writhe their way back into me. One forced it’s way up my bowel, while the other two penetrated my tattered cervix again and began jetting opalescent green reproductive material back in. I reached out with my limp arms, and circled his trunk, to hold him close. He didn’t mind.

Sensation slowly returned, though my legs still did not obey me. My body hurt, terribly, my vagina was torn and rubbed raw, cervix destroyed, and stomach muscles in tatters. Yet still, each thrust was abject pleasure. Aloud I whispered, “Oh Gods, my son… I love you, I love you so much.” then climaxed for the first time in hours.

The room was a cacophony of blissful sexual violence. To either side of me, and below, the sounds of mating continued endlessly. Already my stomach began to swell with precious life again. How many births would I endure before I broke, I wondered? I was starving, that I knew, and my mind was well past coherence. My lower torso was a mass of bruised flesh and ruptured veins.

The mating frenzy faded again into exhausted stillness. Our children retreated by ones and twos, off to do whatever their genetic programming determined. I didn’t bother thinking about it, or about the victims to come. I laid there, mostly immobile, the remnants of my son’s lust trickling from my depths. The entire floor was slick with inhuman ejaculate, the air rank with the sweet-sour stench of animal lust. I felt utterly happy, the stupid grin on my face too wide to be sane.

An hour passed, more, I lost track of time. Someone was fingering me, I could just barely feel the pressure of her fingers inside, nothing in comparison to my son. I slept again, then woke to the scraping sound of chitinous feet on walls. I watched black chitin creatures enter, huge, twice the size of a man, and unmistakably Roachrat genetic stock. One approached me, singled me out, and raised me into her underbelly. I shuddered in disgust as my face was pressed to her bowels and her tail end tucked in over my face.

I knew what was to come, everyone knew what was to come when a Roachrat wanted to mate. She trotted off again with me slung under her belly. I gagged at the stench as her plates parted and sickly pale white-green flesh bulged free. Wet feces and green mucous splattered my face as she began to unroll, like a sock turned inside out. My slack mouth was met with the taste of her, the same animal musk, but both sweeter and more putrid. I gagged, heaved, and tried to turn my face away. Her hind claws caught my head and held it steady as she force fed her vent to my lips.

Down my throat she worked herself, back and forth, in and out. There was no numbness this time, I could feel myself swallow as her flesh disgorged. She fed me, that’s what she did, she fed me until my stomach ached. When she was done, her bowel retracted and left a putrid slop in my throat and mouth. She’d used me like a toilet, and fed me her waste, but after a few minutes I began to feel strength return, the shakes faded, and a calmness spread through my mind that felt unnatural.

Hallways passed. Green slime smeared walls and doors, blood smeared floors and splattered on windows. Whatever was happening, the whole tower was going to be taken. Up we went, floor after floor, ten, eleven, twelve. At last she stopped at an intersection. I could hear fighting to the right, screams, gunshots. She set me gingerly on my feet and to my surprise, I stood. I could just barely feel my legs, heavy as boat anchors but present.

Another woman was placed at my side, a third behind me. I recognized her, my companion from below. I reached out an unsteady hand to her, and she clasped it. “what… what are they doing?”

I shook my head and whispered, “I don’t know. I feel almost like myself again and I don’t like it.” I wanted to go back to the blissful ignorance of drug induced mother. My stomach hurt worse than before, and an ache filled it that did not feel natural.

The mutant Roachrats left us standing there, alone in the wide intersection. There were bodies off to one side, bloody remains of men in power armor. Another side there were a pile of indistinguishable corpses, mutant flesh that couldn’t be reconciled into something familiar. I looked up toward the fighting in the distance and felt my stomach clench with need. What did I need? What was there? What was I going to do? I started walking, hand in hand with my companion. I wanted to find out.

The men paid us no mind as they fired off toward a side corridor. Something was there, something huge, but they had it pinned. I reached toward the closest man, my companion reached for another. I laid my tiny hand on his metal clad arm and begged, “Help… please.”

He turned his head and raised his visor. He took a breath. I watched his eyes dilate and cheeks flush. Suddenly I knew, I knew exactly what was about to happen. The third man turned his gun towards me, but another woman came to him, and his arms fell slack. We began stripping their armor, they were helpless as babes under our touch. His human penis came alive in my green slicked fingers and began to twitch. His balls tucked in and a moan escaped. I pushed him to the floor and straddled, armor half removed. I needed him inside!

The second his glans passed between the tattered folds of my vulva, he ejaculated. The warm gush of his seed was drawn away, swallowed by my hungry passage. Not a drop was wasted, not a dribble fell free. I sat down, hard, and buried him to the hilt, then laid my head to his chest as his hips rose and fell with desperate release. He couldn’t stop, pulse after pulse, his aching manhood spilled into me. The agony in my womb faded into a warm bliss. Purpose. My hips rolled on him as my uterus clenched, then swelled. My stomach bulged. I felt hunger, impossible hunger.

Before I knew what I was doing, my teeth sank into the man’s throat and my mouth worked hard to swallow. Red blood poured between my lips and down my gullet. I drank his life away even as his gonads continued their helpless release. I drained him, manhood and life, then began to eat. Every bite I took, every strip of flesh I fed, went straight to my unborn child. My hunger was an unending torment that only birth could satiate.

I looked over at my companion. Her body was distorted, stomach spread into four angles, like four knees pressed out from within. She continued to gorge on her own man even as her pelvis broke and ribs splayed outwards, dislocated. My own body was being destroyed along similar lines. I didn’t care. I felt no pain now, only hunger.

The man was gone; his bones chewed, marrow sucked, skull cracked and emptied. I turned on my own body. I gnawed into my calf, bent double, and stripped flesh from my own bones. I ate from foot to thigh then started in on the other. My arm next, I bit a finger free, swallowed, then another and another. I got up to my elbow before at last I felt satisfaction. My purpose was complete and I knew it. I laid back into the bloody pile of armor and bones, then sighed one last, blissful sigh. My stomach ruptured and my second son was born, sired by my first and mingled with the human I had devoured.

He was beautiful, a towering behemoth of muscle and bone. He turned about as he stepped from my ruined womb, then lowered his trunk. The muscular jaw emerged, sharp teeth spread, and a gullet like a serpent opened before my eyes. Yes, this was right. I reached up with my remaining hand and laid my palm to his lower tongue. It curled about my wrist, then tugged upward, toward my end. His trunk snapped down like a serpent’s strike, and he devoured me whole. I felt myself fall up, in, and down, then curled about myself in the pit of his stomach. “I love you,” I said aloud with my final breath, then felt the faint echo of an orgasmic climax wash over me, followed by darkness.

5. Viral Life

Far from the violence of the tower, long before anyone not affected was aware, he laid his burden down and gazed into her beautiful blue eyes. She was in the throws of lust, her pink cheeks flushed, her mouth agape, and her hips trembling with desperate need. He had stalked her for miles as she made her way home, had laid dribbles of pheromone laced mucous along her path to dull her mind.

When he had stepped out of the shadows, she had fallen to her knees without a cry and reached for him. She would do perfectly he had decided with what rudimentary thought he had. He drew her up and cradled her in his arms as he disappeared into the wilderness, far from the roads. Under the eves of a rotted barn, he laid her, his burden down, and stared into her eyes. His hand caressed her cheek, talons drew crimson lines without care. She shuddered and moaned, eager to serve his mindless purpose. Her simple hormones he had influenced, she believed she was in love, she believed this was her destiny.

Gently, with care befitting a lover, he undressed her and explored her trembling body. She was so beautiful, so precious to him. It was time to spawn again. Twelve writhing members emerged as he sat upon her. He penetrated her fully—anal, vaginal, oral, and through her breasts and ribs to reach her lungs. His body shuddered with pleasure and deep satisfaction as he released his bladders. Her body was flooded, tainted, corrupted. She would never know humanity again, and never understand what she had been sacrificed for.

He fucked her small mouth with all three of his fore shafts as he stared into her blue eyes. Her pink cheeks slowly faded to green as he saturated her flesh. He loved her, if you could call it that, the love of a parasite for his host. She was home now, she was precious to him. Minute by minute she swelled, distorted, and—became. He clenched, released his waste a second time, then withdrew to stand over her. Trickles of filth drained from his members to bathe her and seal the deal. Now he needed to find something to seed the pool with…

He returned with six canines, all well subdued and full of desperate lust. She had grown in his absence. Her stomach had swelled and her body contorted to bring her sexual passage up, turning it into something like a vase. She would need to feed soon, but that could wait. He knelt between her twisted legs, one already grown into the drain to her right, reaching for nutrients below. Gently he pressed the male he had captured into her orifice. He was panting like mad, with whites showing in his rolling eyes. The moment he was freed, he began to hump at her inner walls. She shuddered and her passage clenched down, trapping the lower half of the canine. He came, then came again, and again, howling all the while with utter mindless bliss.

Minute by minute, the dog sank into the pool and slowly drowned in her depths. Once he was submerged, he fed the second, female this time, then a third male, and vice versa until she was well pregnant with canine spawned life. Her pleasure was great, the grin on her face as she watched him leave was a sight to behold, it made his spine tingle and all twelve members twitch with eagerness.

He returned many hours later, fat and full with sustinance. She had spread further, distorted well beyond human shape. Anus and vulva had merged into a single gaping orifice, fluted and upthrust, digestive enzymes beginning to pool in her depths. He settled himself down over her face and inserted. She swallowed eagerly, lapped into the crevices of his phalluses, and welcomed his gushing release. One bladder emptied, then he switched to the next, and the next. Clumpy clay like nutrients drained into her, clung to her insides, to sustain her through the long arduous growth.

Already larva swam in her womb, he could see the ripples and squirms under her skin, beautiful to behold. Satisfying. His purpose would be complete soon, he was eager to finish. He drained his final bladder down her throat, and set out again. She would need to feed once more before he was done, before her first spawning. He found a nest of humans, sleeping behind silicate and steel. In silence, he devoured them, they never even stirred at his presence, barely aware of what was happening until they were lodged in his throat.

A second nest emptied, a third, he returned to her. His digestion was rapid, and soon his bladders ached with fullness, his torso bloated. She wasn’t aware of him now, but her mouth was just as eager as he sank to his hilt in her and unloaded his second and final feeding. He watched her bloated stomach and looked into the clear mucous of her pool, eager to see what would come of his genetic gift. Something stirred, but did not surface, not yet.

At last, his bowels empty, he rose again and turned his back on the pool. He forgot his interest in the spawn, his duty complete. Out into the night he crept until he found another to prey upon. Into her path he leaked his scent, and dulled her mind to fear. When he judged her ready, shortly before dawn, she had wandered well off the path and deep into the woods, seeking his allure. She found him, and he welcomed her with open cleft to her eager flesh.

6. The End Combat

“I need another mag!” I shouted as the counter ticked down rapidly, fifty, forty, thirty… Another was slapped into my awaiting palm. I waited until ten, then discharged and replaced. The flood of bodies was endless, they flowed like water through the streets, over walls, through windows, and under the ground. A manhole burst open as a twelve legged canine flowed like an octopus up and out. His tail flicked, and a spray of emerald spears glistened in the twilight.

They struck the barricade like daggers, embedded in solid concrete and steel. A second passed, then they melted and began to dissolve through releasing terrifying gas that tore at the mind. I double checked the straps on my rebreather, then demolished the canine straight through the middle of his torso. He tried to rise again, and I gut him with another shot, he stilled—eventually.

A behemoth bounded off the roof of a near by building, over head, and flexed his hind quarters. Down came a rain of larvae, evacuated from his vent like a hail of bullets. Where they struck, they stuck, then rebounded toward the nearest warm body. I screamed as I threw myself down, rolled back, and fired into the sky as he crossed over head. A few bullets struck home, but it did no good, he landed and bounded off.

Behind me someone was sobbing. I looked up to see my assist clawing at her stomach, tendrils of emerald flesh wove through her stomach where the larvae had burrowed. I aimed, then fired, her skull ruptured in a spray of red, followed by a trickle of green. So fast… seconds, it took seconds now… I rolled back to firing position and aimed down the street. A Roachrat fell at last, her eggs spilling from her ruptured abdomen, then bursting open to release a swarm of fliers.

I had never seen fliers before. That was new. They looked like giant mosquitoes crossed with an octopus and a Roachrat. I fired one shot at a time, carefully aiming each. Behind me someone moaned. I spun, fired, and dropped the woman, followed by a pair of bullets through the canine that had knotted her. I turned back again, fuck they were fast, so close.

Another half dozen down, then on the final flier my gun clicked empty. “Reload!” I shouted, hand held out. Nothing was placed in it. “Reload!” I said again. Nothing. I glanced over my shoulder, only then remembering the larval spray and my dead assist.

Something impacted the side of my helmet. I swiped up with the butt of my gun to take it out… but missed. My visor cracked up, then snapped off with a flick of a tentacle followed by my rebreather. I held my breath as I bashed against the side of my head, trying to crush whatever it was.

Twelve limbs curled into my helmet, a single protrusion pressed against my lips from the center of them all. I tried to grab at it, tried to pry it away. My hand dropped as a moan escaped my lips. Green slime soaked my face, sank through my skin. It was over. That moan parted my lips, opened my jaw. The protrusion thrust between, lumpy, bulbous, full of flavors I’d not personally experienced.

With my last coherent thought, I prayed to god to save me, begged for a bullet in my skull, something. The protrusion hit the back of my throat, then burst. Sour fluids filled my mouth followed by a pile of grape sized eggs. Involuntarily, I swallowed, my throat just worked on it’s own, welcoming the horrific little things inside.

I fell onto my hands and knees, then chest to the dirt as I clawed at my stomach. I could feel them in there, feel them rupture. It was too late, too late for all of us. The flier abandoned my mouth and flitted into the air, seeking her next victim. A strange lust grew in my depths, impossible to ignore, impossible to resist. “So… so this is what it’s like?” I muttered aloud, then moaned as pain bloomed in my stomach. Already it was growing, jutting outward against my armor. I began to unhook it, undress. There was no point in it now, it was over, the world was over.

I stared down at my stomach as it was freed. Veins of green spread in a spiderweb across it. Lumps rose, then cavitated. My skin sucked inward over each, then tore. Within I saw slippery wet emerald things. I reached down and slipped a finger in that first hole, even as a second and third opened in a circle around my navel. A tiny tentacle reached out and curled around my finger, then let go. It didn’t hurt, I felt… I felt good, right.

A canine bounded over the barricade and stopped when he saw me. I laid back, closed my eyes, and spread my legs for him. Why not? Why shouldn’t I? She had been in such pleasure when I’d shot her, I wanted to feel that pleasure too! He came close, sniffed at my stomach, then wrapped his tentacle fore legs around both of mine, forcing me as wide as possible before bringing in his hinds and planting his grotesque erection against my crotch. I’d seen more than enough of them over the past week to know it, bulging, lumpy, covered in huge green veins that pumped not blood, but corruptive fluid, and a single urethra for the larvae to be deposited.

He sank to the hilt within, twice as deep as I had room, I tore. His knot swelled the second it passed my pelvic floor, and tied. “Oh… oh god!” I cried as his veins released. The fire that bloomed left me breathless. Orgasm was instant, climax a heartbeat later. His knot throbbed, swelled further, skin tore further. Each pain was pleasure, each pleasure was agony. I clawed at the ground under me as things began to emerge from my stomach, a new type of flier, something like an octopus with wings. They took off by ones and twos. Each egg had formed a hole, each hole birthed a dozen. I was starving, but only the constant mindless savagery of the canine between my legs kept me grounded.

My orgasm rose and fell like the thud of distant artillery. It wasn’t quite in time with the beat of my heart, sometimes spanning two or three beats, other times four or five at once. He howled at last, and I felt his member gape open. One, two, four… his larvae burrowed into my stomach as he at last released. I welcomed them, giddy. Then he pulled free and the pleasure faded in seconds.

I tried to move, but found my legs as still as stone. My stomach still occasionally birthed a flier, but those holes had begun to swell and close, they looked vaguely infected, but green instead of red. The four larvae burrowed in until they reached muscle, one in my thigh, another mid back, a third just below my ribs, the fourth in my rear. Then the pain began. They fed, swelled, fed and mutated. I thrashed as best I could, but the numbness was spreading well beyond my legs and hips.

Second by second, I felt my organs shut down as the larvae poison took over. A nutrient rich soup began to dribble from my gaped sex and slack anus as I dissolved from within. A worm the width of my fist and as long as my arm squirmed up from my ribs, and emerged from one of those infected looking holes, then back in with a hungry slurp. I’d never seen the result of canine larvae, a part of me was curious… but I never got that curiosity met. Darkness overcame me not long after.

7. Cleansed

The planet had once been green and blue. Beautiful to behold. Now it was a sea of glistening emerald with wisps of cloud above. The lifeform that covered it now, had lived for a thousand years, consuming the crust, consuming itself, rebirthing itself. No one knew where it had come from, or what it was, but it contained traces of every genetic structure that had ever existed on the world. Occasionally, monstrous growths would emerge, creatures that might be considered animal, and would exist for a time, but always the pattern would run it’s course and return to the emerald soup it had emerged from.

The war had ended long ago, the other planet bathed in cleansing fire from above. All that remained was a milky emerald monument to hate. Stories abound of what it’s like to surrender to the surface. Some have even recorded their fate, rapt joy writ across their face even as their flesh dissolved or blistered into a sudden bloom of alien life. The joy was absolute, and so people came in secret, to surrender, to be subsumed into the biomass. They added their diversity to the whole, like a gift. The world did not thank them, did not know them, did not remember them. Of all the diverse structures formed, thought was not one coded into the pattern. Mindless urges, bestial hungers, hormone induced affection and lust, but no thought.

I gazed down at the world and licked my lips in anticipation. Life was misery, the universe on a direct course for heat death. Why not? Why not go out with joy? I coded the sequence into the drop ship and settled back in the seat. Down into the thick atmosphere I sank, the howl of descent and fire deafened. Then into the swampy muck the ship settled. There was no need to open the door. Seconds passed, a trickle of green slime oozed between two wall plates, then it caved in slowly, melting from without and dissolving into a silvery green sludge.

A tentacle reached in, it glistened in the light of the drop ship, then the light flickered and went dead. It reached for me in the dark and I opened my lips to it’s sweet sour taste. Half way down my throat a second later, I climaxed. I felt like a star had gone nova behind my eyes. All the way down my throat, thoughts blanked, my body went limp, and my ego surrendered to the beast within. Within seconds I dissolved into the biomass. The ship followed a half hour later. A week after, I remained as only an orgasmic sense of presence, like an echo in a canyon, the final shout of my joyful awareness, obliterated, and never to fade.

11/21/2021