FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A new citizen for the Hegemony 2

New ‘opportunities’ open for Zal

“Hello, Rannoch! This is me! Verantus! Today, we have a cloudy front approaching from the south, accompanied by a gentle breeze that will ease our dear elderly. For those using the hypertube to Districts 5 and 6, there will be delays on the line during the afternoon. Now, with some music starting with the Turian anthem!”

Just as the host’s voice stopped, came the blaring trumpets, taking Zal out of his bed as he smashed his fist against the alarm clock.

Sure enough, the Quarian growled and rolled, feeling his body burning as usual as he woke up. Heat… Again.

Yet, as usual, Zal crawled out of his bed and grabbed the two bottles. Two pills from the first, one from the second. And then… With a huff, he stood on his legs.

Though he was feeling… Weaker there. Not weak to the point of dropping. But walking seemed to be far too tricky for Zal to endure as he stepped slowly to the door and opened it.

Already, there was the smell of cooking food coming to his uncovered nose.

Seared vegetables on one side and a steak.

Almost good for the Quarian. He yawned, stretched, and advanced towards the kitchen, finding Cestus there and again naked. Sure enough, his ‘Boss’ was again sporting a boner. Not that it was impossible to avoid it when the scent of heat and rut filled the room.

“I prepared the roots like you wanted… Can I… Get it?”

“Yeah,” grumbled Zal, though he was feeling kinda wet, too.

Not so excited about the prospect, but after enduring it for two days, the Quarian learned it was better to give in to the need.

And so, without even thinking, Zal knelt…

He knelt and hissed internally when he felt the cold tiles against his scrotum, followed then by a stabbing sensation in his ballsack. One that had worsened, but only when Zal was… pent up.

Hence, it was better for him to kneel and to give in, opening his mouth wide, and having that cocktip, reeking, sticky, and massive, pressed against his lips.

Soon followed the grunts from Cestus’s, the hand approaching Zal’s head but only grazing the skin, stroking the nape, but nothing more. That was the rule.

One rule Cestus had to follow, through many growls and grunts.

“We need to get you your new dresses. And piercings. You can stay here this afternoon?”

Zal did not pry his mouth from that humongous cock, from that salty and acrid precum that was pumped right in his mouth. The liquid was horrendous, sticky, and it was getting everywhere. But with it came the peace of mind and body, the sensation of fullness and more… Was it why Quarians loved it?

Nevertheless, Zal presented one thumb up. He’d done so… It wasn’t a favor, though he still hadn’t asked Pelagius. Once he’d explain to the officer his Boss wanted him to buy new clothes, he wouldn’t need to meet him; whether at the bar, the bowling, or even the shooting range.

Today, as strange as it sounded, it was a day dedicated to Cestus.

Zal advanced his jaw, feeling the satisfaction in getting his throat outstretched by that cock, pleased by the tingle in his esophagus. Abnormal, yes. But it was all thanks to the therapy and training.

All thanks to the change to his body that continued to wreak havoc on his desires. To change his needs… And to guide Zal in lifting Cestus’s sweaty testicles while that fat fupa was pressed against his forehead.

Cestus’s nuts were so darn heavy and dense, they were like boulders. No wonder he could pump so much if he were so endowed…

But their stench was… palpable, intense.

Pure Turian musk was treated as an horrendous odor in the Quarian districts. Only there.

A moment later, Zal felt the flow of cum and precum slow down, leaving his stomach distended but satisfied… He couldn’t resist the appeal to pull the cock free from his mouth and… Kiss those nuts.

To lick them, to slobber over them, to polish those orbs until they were in a pristine, darker gray. Until, even if the skin wrinkled and such around them, most folds were clean of sweat.

“That’s new,” commented Cestus, huffing and stepping back from the kitchen top, but not without pulling the plates that had their respective meals. A heavy one for him, with the steak alongside some grains.

And Zal’s plates, with the seared roots. Plates he brought along while Zal tried to stand up…

And hissed.

The parasites were wiggling, and his nuts, even if they were supposed to be numb after the Quarian breaker, were on fire. A fire the Quarian endured with clenched teeth, stepping slowly as he felt the creatures’ coil and tried to get a bit of something. Of his flesh… Of his testicles that had swollen from the drugs… And yet, had been majorly consumed from the inside. There was no denial that his nuts were infested, not with the segmented chitin coiling and bulging through the darkened skin.

“That’s… new, yes. I was feeling it,” grumbled Zal. However, he was indeed feeling it. It was harder not to feel the need to stay near that Turian… Or to please him. More so as he sat by him on the sofa, notching while watching the news. More conflict on Omega.

More conflict in the galaxy. Cestus switched to another channel, this time featuring a sports competition that combined human tennis with biotic.

“Hmm hmm,” nodded Cestus, watching the pair of player and biotic wrestling for the ball’s control.

“Where should we go?” asked Zal, eyeing his Boss’s cock, at rest… And yet so massive, it was like he was still hard. A glance Cestus noticed when he turned to Zal.

“To Aisha, a seamstress. It’s near my office. I’ll check the security on the way.”

“She’ll have my robe ready when your parents arrive?”

“It is almost ready. I sent her your biomedical data. And I warned her you were under treatment. We’re there for the touch-ups.”

“Can we get a new suit? I don’t like having only one left.”

“Hmm… Sure,” said Cestus, opening his legs wider.

Zal merely leaned forward. There were no words or say… Only that Zal slipped his head between Cestus’s legs, going to suck that already half-erect shaft while waiting for the moment.

That stench, that pungent musk. As much as it was detestable, it was soothing. And Zal sucked on that tip like it was a fountain, filling his mouth again while feeling Cestus’s fingers on his asshole… Pushing against it, touching it… And then fingering that entrance that sucked on those fingers again.

One orgasm. Two… Three. Four.

Zal could feel the stab as his testicles were pulled higher, waking up the parasites. But in return, there was a pleasure as his nuts were released of the pent-up pressure within… A joy that, with time, started to erase even the bites from those parasites after they’d injected their poison.

“Your guy needs to replace your nuts soon. If my mother or father sees the parasites, it’ll be a riot,” said Cestus.

Zal spat the shaft, but not without having it rubbed and throbbing against his face.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know what kind of parasites this is. I should have it all removed.”

“And replaced? I can only pay for plastic replacement. I didn’t plan for two balls in my budget, even less so the ticket off-world.”

“You got it?”

“Departure in one month.”

“One month?” asked Zal, frowning.

“Yes. In case they stay for more than a week. It was the earliest I could take that didn’t cost me an arm, too. So be happy I got it.”

Zal grumbled… But still gave that cock a lick, while lifting his posterior, yanking the fingers off his asshole.

“It’s fine. We’ll do with it. I’ll take a shower and get ready,” said Zal, rolling down the sofa and standing up… Even if his legs trembled like he’d been fucked for hours by Cestus.

“Hmm hmm. I’ll wait.”

By waiting, it meant five minutes before Cestus entered the bathroom, after Zal had started showering himself. After that, the concept of showering became more of raw fucking against the wall, of Cestus nibbling Zal’s neck while pumping that ass full of cum before he pulled out, grabbed the nearby plug on display in the bathroom, and plugged Zal so that his round belly would remain full of cum.

A quick action in which none spoke, as if on a common agreement.

The showering would resume, hastened… And it was only fifteen minutes later that Zal was finally ready.

His suit was tight around his belly, ass, and chest. The latter was getting much fuller. If people didn’t know it better, they’d guess he got implants. But it was all natural, even if it weighed on his spine when he stepped outside, welcomed by Cestus. For once, the Turian wore something more than a tank top with briefs or shorts.

This time, he had proper pants, a white shirt, and a vest. And he presented his arm to Zal, who took it, accepting it as they took the elevator down.

“Suit, office, seamstress, piercings. I forgot something?” asked Cestus, grimacing.

“Bras. I might need them.”

“Ah, yes. True. Because that’s another problem you Quarians…. Have,” grumbled Cestus, his tone sour but ending pitiful. “I’ll pay for it.”

A nod was all he got from Zal as they left the district that had become familiar.

However, since most shops were exclusively for Turians, the only option was to get closer to the hypertube terminal, and therefore… Cestus’s office.

As usual, the place was the same. But the scent of sex was gone, just like Cestus’s. And Zal found himself wandering through the open space, his arms crossed while watching the chair he typically used in his corner. Then Cestus’s desk, where his boss sat.

“You should stop masturbating at your desk,” suddenly commented Zal as he approached, a thought occurring.

“What?”

“The underside of your desk. It’s… Dirty. Even with the cleaning crew going through each day.”

Zal pointed to the desk, guiding Cestus to look below… There, the Turian grimaced.

“Urgh. Yeah. I’ll stop that.”

“You better,” said Zal as he watched his boss continue to tap on his keyboard.

But as time went on, Cestus’s expression hardened, his mandibles clicked while his typing became more brutal. Then, he grabbed his keyboard to smash it.

A pathetic attempt since it was an optical interface: it only meant that Cestus ‘grabbed’ a hologram through haptic return and smashed it.

In the end, it did nothing except cause the programs to freeze as a security measure.

“Fuck me! Fagn-“ shouted Cestus, glaring where Zal’s chair would be.

But his voice died down as he glanced down, towards Zal’s legs.

“Sorry. Old habits,” grumbled Cestus, pushing with his chair away while pointing to the computer. “Could you…”

“Do what I’m good at? Sure,” nodded Zal, leaning on the desk and finding his Boss’s hand brushing his posterior. But… It wasn’t so bad: Zal finished typing the commands, and the security and account log appeared. Nothing unusual for Zal as he straightened himself and acted as if nothing had happened.

An act that stretched even when Cestus turned off the computer and growled, stretching and scratching his neck.

“It’s good. Thanks for the help.”

“You’re welcome,” was the answer, followed by a hand accepting Cestus’s arm while they walked out. But as they walked, there were some whispers… Some exchanges.

“They think you’re my wife,” said Cestus, opening the door for Zal.

“That’s what they imagine,” said Zal, trying to contain himself. Both somehow, something in his guts stirred at the idea. A thought, a possibility he chased by shaking his head. “But we’re partners.”

“Partners? Yeah. That’s right. How could I appreciate a Quarian? They should know better,” scoffed Cestus.

Then followed the shopping spree. Finally, Zal got new bras and two new suits. The first was relatively easy, as most plus-sized bras were solely for Quarians. As much as Turians loved their kin, no Turian could have assets as significant as the Quarians did. Zal even had the help of a feminized fellow in selecting the best bras for his current size.

The suits? They were more challenging to find. Most feminized Quarians used revealing clothes, and female Quarians were a rarity on Rannoch, ironically. Most shops only catered to male and unchanged Quarians, leading to some huffs and breathless insults once Zal was on the way out.

But after a few searches, Zal found a shop with the right suits, and with Cestus giving his opinion, albeit bigoted, Zal found two sets of suits that were perfectly fine. Dark purple with black stripes and gold accents, and another with a striking white with pink accents, perfect for his job as a tech.

Without even thinking, Zal allowed Cestus to carry the bags as they approached the seamstress’s shop.

Almost discreet compared to all the shops on the main avenue declaring the virtues of their products, the quality of their clothes, or even how a tiny rock could make any prospector rich… That shop was almost timid. Yet, Cestus entered first.

“Is that the shop?”

“It is,” confirmed the Turian, nodding before a shrill cry broke the calm atmosphere.

“Cestus Maravius! Finally! You’re bringing me your future wife!” cried a voice.

“Zal. This is Aisha Gadezir.”

For a surprise, it was. On a world with practically only Turians and Quarians, the blue skin and tendrils atop the head clearly made the Asari an anomaly. Even then, the well-gifted Asari, in a tight black robe, advanced with a graceful gait through the bolts of fabric and mannequins covered with robes. She practically went to grab Cestus’s hand, shaking it vigorously before she went for the Quarian.

“Zal, right? Call me Aisha,” said the Asari, her defined cheekbones marking her as someone of Turian descent. Her teeth were glimmering, more so as she smiled while shaking Zal’s hands. “I heard this will be your first patriarchal reunion?”

“Matriarchal for us. You… Know her,” scoffed Cestus, pulling on his neck. “You got her robe?”

“Oh yes! I do! Come here!”

Without waiting, Aisha ran to the back of the shop, without even locking the shop. Zal? He could only observe Cestus while puzzled by the energy the seamstress gave off.

“She knows you?”

“She knew my family long before the council and the Turians split. She wanted to leave her kind, and I who found her that shop.”

“You?”

“I had some favors, and Aisha is good. Go on, see what she prepared for you.”

Cestus almost waved Zal to advance. And the Quarian, a bit surprised, found himself entering the back room… The place was barely lit with neon lights, but Aisha stood proudly by a mannequin that had Zal’s current proportions, legs included.

And on it had been put one of the most slutty robes Zal had seen.

The cut was low, practically exposing the breasts, with the straps supposed to go through piercing rings. Then, the sides and hips were exposed, revealed by the loose fabric. And finally, the front was looking like an elaborate loincloth. Or rather, a panel that was to cover Zal’s genitals but not entirely hide them.

It was… practically the kind of clothes a whore would wear.

And Cestus whistled behind, smiling.

“That’s great, Aisha. Very great?”

“It’s…”

“Great, right?”

“Exposed?” asked Zal, grimacing behind his helmet.

“It is. That’s what mother and father would want you to wear. Something that is exposing all the assets of a new girl in our family. Her words,” said Cestus. “It’s great.”

Zal eyed Cestus up and down, watching the Turian cross his arms and even nod to himself as if it was the most significant statement to have ever graced Rannoch.

“It looks… Whorish,” confirmed Zal, once his outfit changed.

His suit had been removed, exposing his gray skin and even the smart tattoos etched upon it. But without his visor, his expression was visible. And so was his disdain as he shook his head, gritted his teeth, and looked at himself through the mirror.

Cestus, without skipping a beat, was already toying with his omnitool, and soon, Zal could feel the heat from the smart ink as it moved, slipped, and changed shape. It moved upward, steadily, but it was soon to go on the exposed breasts in an adjacent design to the markings the Rannoch-born Turians wore.

Except… In that case, it was on Zal’s chest, underlining his nipples, his shapes… And yet, with one Hegemonic symbol that was without equivocation: “Woman.”

At the sight, Zal was flustered and fighting not to shout at Cestus.

He couldn’t deny it all looked good; it could have been a great robe once given to a proper female. But it was excessive.

Moreover, it was possible to see Zal’s features by peering between layers covering his thighs and groin.

“No. It is great,” nodded Aisha, though her blue skin looked more purple around the cheeks. “There’s nothing much to add.”

“I can see my balls,” mumbled Zal, looking down while the Asari already had her seamstress set and planted some needles into the fabric for future adjustments.

“Yes. But it’s great. And maybe someone should have revealed that detail,” huffed Aisha as she planted the needles along Zal’s thighs, perhaps to displace some of the fabric covering the back for the front.

“I didn’t think that was necessary. I thought you knew about the females issues,” said Cestus, dropping his arm and strolling around, even with Aisha waving him off.

“I knew. But I thought you’d have gotten a female through your mother’s influence,” added the Asari, standing up and having her hands on her waist. “Wait… Does she even know about Zal’s status?”

“Probably not.”

All the while, Zal listened, though he tried hard to keep his arms lifted without hindering the Asari’s work. But his face was red and his expression flustered as the two bickered.

Mainly Aisha, who acted like an aunt for Cestus, poking his shoulders. She complimented Zal’s body and waist but used those backhanded compliments to poke at Cestus: how he should talk more about his wife to his mother; how they should dine together, get to know her and her husband; or how Zal should find a better husband in the form of Cestus’s brother since that brother cared to call and see Aisha regularly.

Alas, Zal was satisfied the browbeat was not his… He even had a smug smile when he saw Cestus lower his head and apologize.

“Sorry, Aisha. I’ll try to call you more often.”

“Call you? I work practically three streets away from you. Goddess! Is there even a brain inside that thick skull!” added the Asari, smacking the Turian’s forehead.

“I am swamped and-… hey, Zal! Stop laughing and help me!”

“Don’t bring your Wife into this! That’s on you, not Zal, to think about the others!”

The smacking continued, and enough Zal was almost feeling better as he turned to the mirror. Yes, the fabric was whorish as it revealed every asset. But it was something different than the suits or being naked. When he moved, he could feel air rush through the sleeves and onto his sides, but not without entirely rubbing him the wrong way. Even the fingerless gloves were feeling odd.

For a moment, the Quarian was lost in closing and opening his eyes, listening to the shout and the regular smacks… Lost enough, he didn’t see Cestus coming closer and passing a hand over Zal’s chest before slipping behind him, his mandibles clicking.

Of Aisha? No traces, but the Turian’s fingers were all over Zal’s exposed bosoms.

For a moment, there was a silence while the clawed fingers traced around one swollen, erect, and reddish nipple.

“Can’t we have a different version? With more coverage?” asked Zal, trembling.

“No. It’s… Complicated,” sighed Cestus, the other fingers lifting the breast.

“Complicated how?”

“My mother is very adamant on the rules.”

“There are rules? About how I should show my breasts?”

“During a family reunion? Oh, there is. You already forgot what I taught you, Fagnnoch?”

“Cestus. You’re- Hmph!”

Something weird happened, and Zal craned his neck, feeling like something stabbed his right breast. But at the same time, there was a relief. A pressure that was released from under his skin. Heat followed, blossomed at the surface of his right nipple. But it was great, it felt great. And-

“Shit. Shit! Shit shit!” Cestus’s hand left, and so the relief lessened, but was there, enough for Zal to glance down and see something: white, thick, sweet. He collected it and brought it to his fingers, sampling it. It was… Cloyingly sweet but oh-so-familiar. Something that made his eyes widen as Cestus approached with a cloth, pressing it against the lactating nipple.

“Milk?”

“Looks to me the hormonal treatment is working wonders,” said Cestus as he collected one bead of milk, much like how Zal did, and licked it. “Sweet and tasty.”

Zal considered it, given that his right breast felt lighter compared to its left counterpart. But then, as he examined himself, Zal noticed a grin plastered on Cestus’s face.

“No.”

“Please? If we do it now, I won’t bother you,” said Cestus, though his bulge was already squeezing against Zal’s posterior.

“One favor. You’ll help me with the dinner.”

“Deal,” said Cestus, grabbing Zal by the arm. “Aisha! We need to use your cabin!”

“Sure thing!” shouted back the Asari, from afar and with a very frustrated tone.

“What is she doing?”

“Taking a call, doesn’t matter,” answered Cestus with the energy and joy of a young kid.

It was almost endearing…

But it did end with Zal being forced to strip and fend off the horny Turian while carefully removing the robes, removing the black and scarlet fabric before he was all exposed… In his naked glory. And had to sit on the nearby stool in the shop’s sole fitting room.

Cestus? He was already undoing his belt and fighting against his underwear by the time he knelt between Zal’s spread legs, his mandibles clicking right by the swollen left breast.

“Is… Something all Turians are excited about?”

“Excited? Maybe,” said Cestus, licking his lips. “Your milk tastes so sweet and… So good. You don’t know how easy you Quarians have it.”

Well, perhaps that milk was more than pure sweet milk. However, Zal didn’t have much biological knowledge, except for what he had found. And he wasn’t about to ask when Cestus’s lips closed on his right nipple.

One moment, Zal was feeling pent-up and bearing a heavy weight. The second after? He threw his head back and felt his cocklet throbbing between his legs. No, worse, he felt it drippy and shooting on the floor while Cestus’s lips closed and squeezed the sensitive nub. Milk came out, came forth, like a sudden waterfall.

But the white liquid was dense, sweet, full of sugar. And the Turian was sucking on it with greedy eyes while one hand was between his legs, frantically stroking his enormous shaft.

“Oh… Keelah. That feels so good,” moaned Zal, his milky white eyes rolling from the sudden shock as his cocklet throbbed… And one translucent shot, practically like water, squirted free from his urethra and landed right on Cestus’s shirt.

One shot. Then another… Then a third.

All the while, the Turian seemed not to care whether he was getting drenched. His eyes were solely focused on Zal’s breasts. And his stroking was practically mechanical as he was enraptured while chugging that milk down.

Even Cestus’s pupils were contracted like a predator, his lips slightly curled and his mandibles clicking with excitement. A growing, ever-changing, ever-increasing desire that made him huff, growl, grunt… And certainly shoot precum all over the ground.

In comparison, Zal had his head thrown back and his body tense, like a rope or a bowstring. It was not subtle; he was getting off from it, and indeed, the lack of pressure within his breast was like a balm. A soothing presence to his aching and changing body.

Then, as if on a fit, Cestus abandoned the nipple he’d been sucking to latch on the second.

By then, Zal’s breast had been covered with bruises and hickey… And his untouched nipple was even more swollen than before and extremely sore. But at the same time, there was a sense of satisfaction as he could feel that the breast was lighter, the skin relaxed, and even the pressure within was gone.

A pressure gone, but still… Milk droplets continued to come from it, dribbling over Zal’s belly, groin, balls, and then the floor.

“Hhh… Keep doing it, Cestus,” finally admitted Zal with a sigh, closing his eyelids while his cocklet released another shot.

And another… But the next one was Cestus’s.

With his rough stroking and his constant chugging, the fattened Turian certainly was out of breath. He was running ragged, and even his mandibles clicked slower. Yet his fingers continued that mechanical pumping, unable to stop pulling on that foreskin up and down.

Precum dripped from it, formed fat dollops between the folds before they were wrought by the tense and aching hand. Again… Again… And again. Each time faster, each time with renewed intensity. Each time until Cestus’s breathing was a whistle… And from that cock spurted cum. Free. Musky, intense. Sticky.

It hit the stool’s legs and the floor. The jets even managed to hit Zal’s feet and legs, coating them slightly. On the other hand, Cestus finally released the second breast, leaving it lighter and more soothed than before.

But it didn’t mean his strokes were over. No. Even with his mouth free and his cum spurting free, the Turian continued to pump and shoot. And it wasn’t stopping.

Not even as Cestus continued to groan until… Finally, it was over.

His cumshot, his pumping, his nibbling, everything.

Zal reopened his eyes, blinking before he looked down, seeing his gray flesh covered with bite marks. However, in return, he was feeling much better than before and was even satisfied. No… Delighted, he inhaled the raw Turian musk and felt his brain tickled in a new, strange way.

“That’s enough, Cestus,” whispered Zal, smiling lightly while seeing Cestus wipe his brows and groan. “That’s good.”

“Glad to hear,” coughed the fatty Turian, pushing on his knees and ground, trying to get up before he even handled his drippy and half-hard mast.

One mast that was practically presenting itself to Zal, who, in return, didn’t even think twice to open his mouth and begin cleaning it up.

The raw taste of Turian cum was… Appreciable. Satisfying as Zal gobbled that shaft, pushing it down his throat until he was dangerously teetering on the stool.

In the end, as Zal peeled back, he gargled… Smiled and licked his lips while Cestus put his cock back inside his pants, without a trace of grease or cum.

The sound of the Turian fighting against his belt filled the room and then…

“If it happens again, you can ask me,” said Cestus, huffing.

“It… Will surely happen,” mumbled Zal, with certainty, if it was all thanks to his treatment. “Thanks for that.”

The Turian looked away, obviously flustered at something… Before he stepped out. For a moment, Zal was curious. But he found Cestus back with his suit, offering it to Zal, who took it.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Put it on before Aisha notices it.”

“Notices…” started to ask Zal. But a glance down confirmed the presence of the puddle. And Zal tried to step outside, though the thick liquid was beginning to spread and form a uniform puddle.

One Cestus avoided by stepping outside.

“Be quick.”

-

“Don’t be angry, Septus. It’s just how Quarians are made.”

“It’s not my problem. I won’t… Touch this.”

“Well, that’s the only thing you can do.”

Zal didn’t peep a word. No. He preferred not to, preferring to abstain rather than antagonize either Septus or Pelagius.

Arcturus? Oh, he wasn’t caring since he was practically grunting with delight, and Zal could “sense” his satisfaction at the moment.

However, Septus and Pelagius’s conflict was different.

Once again, as if it were a routine, Zal joined them at the karaoke box. Like usual, Pelagius had prepared him a new set of clothes. This time, it was laced panties that were digging into Zal’s testicles, and bras that were, sadly, a bit too tight for Zal’s shape.

A bra that had since been thrown away, same as the panties.

But it didn’t mean the situation was better.

Quite the opposite.

No, it was even worse since Pelagius’s fingers were hogging Zal’s breasts, squeezing and fondling the pert perks of womanhood along with the wide golden rings pierced through.

It was Cestus’s gift, or appreciation, to Zal. In echo, Pelagius had been all smiles and touchy-feely with those breasts and pulling on those rings, more so once he saw that Zal could lactate.

And with Zal’s breasts fondled, and with Arcturus currently rummaging through the Quarian’s ass, stuffing it with that enormous cock… Zal had nothing else to offer to Septus than his cock.

Than his tiny, ridiculous, shameful shrunken cocklet… And his testicles were swollen and practically showing the segmented chitin due to the enormous parasites nestled within.

“You can play with those things if you want. It’s you who wanted to have a male Quarian to conquer,” huffed Septus, watching Zal’s cocklet throbbing from the pleasure… And those balls sometimes shake.

“Yes. But how could I refuse my girl the pleasure of milking her? Your breasts must hurt if nobody milks them, hmmm?” said Pelagius, right by Zal’s ears before licking his earhole.

But… It was true.

Pelagius’s fingers were divine, and that constant touch was enough to produce a trickle of milk coming free from Zal’s breasts. A trickle that was the source of pleasure, delight, and indeed respite for a Quarian whose breasts needed to be milked twice per day.

Not that Cestus was against it.

Not that Zal was against it either, that pleasure was even better than masturbating in his former days. As shameful as it was… Those changes were also a source of joy, and far beyond the mere masochism Zal was starting to experience.

“That’s not my problem. She has two tits. You can leave me one,” grumbled the scrawny Turian sitting on the opposite side of Pelagius, crossing his arms.

“Yeah? And why would I? You’d prefer I play with that ridiculous clitty instead of those nice tits?” asked Pelagius, his voice suave but dripping with danger.

“You can share. Or I can leave; that’s up to you. I was here to sing, not to fondle a Quarian’s… Things.”

“Buhu. Yet, you said Zal was looking nice with tits.”

“That’s different. Once you remove that, it’s bearable. But that cock and balls, they’re… Disgusting. And unsightly. And better gone,” spat Septus.

“Well. If you prefer them gone… It was still on the program.

“What?” asked Zal, blinking.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. It’s your big day.”

Pelagius’s smile was cold, threatening. But more was the moment he abandoned Zal’s breasts, his body, and he produced a little injector with a yellow liquid.

One almost glimmery and bubbly liquid, though its presence was almost like a poison.

Even Septus recoiled at the sight.

“You… You said you’d do it at the shop.”

“No… Not really. I want to see it happen as soon as possible. It’ll be her first birth; it will be important. Isn’t it, Zal?”

“B-Birth?”

Zal eyed the injector, but more so the attitude Pelagius had. He was… Unnerving to say the least, and even Septus continued to step back, frightened. Arcturus? Oh, he seemed not as excited as his grip on Zal’s posterior was tense.

“Yes, birth!” confirmed Pelagius, smacking Zal’s oversized ballsack. “Two big babies wanting to go outside!”

Zal still winced from the heat and felt the shaking, but no pain. It had been a while since he’d felt anything, really, from his sack.

“We shouldn’t let them wait!” chuckled Pelagius, stabbing the first parasite with the injector, and quickly the second.

Zal evidently tried to stop Pelagius, to prevent that arm from hitting his nuts.

But the end was… There. And Zal’s arms dropped the instant the parasite inside his ballsack, the parasites, began to move. They writhed, they twisted, they coiled.

And with it, new sensations arose from Zal’s groin.

Pain, evidently. It was the first and foremost, like electricity was coursing through his body, burning him. Then, there was the intense pleasure coming from the contraction hitting his groin, hitting his prostate.

And then the relief as within the series of contraction and action, a sphincter opened…

Yellow piss began to flow out of Zal’s urethra, like a faint jet that quickly turned into a trickle and droplet.

But that relief, as intense and short-lived as it was, made his asshole clench and squeeze Arcturus’s cock, making the giant Turian moan and groan.

“Pelagius! Are you fucking with us? You told us you’d wait!” shouted Septus.

“My… My fun,” bemoaned Arcturus, suddenly heaving as Zal’s asshole was clenching and holding him in a vice grip.

“Don’t be a wet blanket, you two. It’s fun. Okay, my girl made a little mess. But look, it’ll be fun!” added Pelagius, rubbing Zal’s nuts.

By then, the writhing inside those nuts had become twists and coils and turns. The parasites inside were not at rest, practically lashing against the ballsack that held them. Tiny antennas even bulged as they seemed to hit the sack from within…

And Zal? He was watching it with a mix of awe, fear, and sickening curiosity as those creatures, those dead-weights inside his nuts, were finally moving. Indeed, they wouldn’t put him in danger. After all, Pelagius prepared it, right?

But Septus and Arcturus’s visible fear made him reconsider that statement a bit.

A tiny bit. Or at least, until the antennas found something and Zal felt something stabbing his groin from within.

His left testicle seemed to have shrunken. And the result was for his groin to bulge from within, to see a shape bulge under his cock but above his ballsack as it moved… And advanced. And hit.

“KEELAH!” cried Zal, his brain almost exploded from the sensation.

He finally understood. What bulged was the parasite’s oversized head. And that head rammed against his organs, precisely his prostate. The second after that realization washed over him, Zal’s eyes rolled, and he dropped against Arcturus, stunned, writhing, trembling, and clenching.

What he experienced was too much.

Far too much for a single Quarian to endure with a stiff upper lip.

Far too much for his body. For his mind. For himself.

His eyes rolled, his eyelids clenched, his asshole was so tense it was like a metal grip… And then, it was gone. Away… Done.

Zal blinked and blanked, unable to stay aware and cognizant.

The fire, pleasure, and pain swallowed him.

The lights were blinding, the sounds deafening, the touch a torture, even the smell too raw for his mind.

He was a mind under siege, incapable of handling all that information.

And then… Black. Night. Rest.

Or so he thought when… he felt. No, smelled something raw and putrid by his nostrils.

The instant after, Zal opened his eyes and pushed back, crawled back, only for his body to be too sore. No, it was his groin. Not his entire body. But even then, he felt like he couldn’t move his thighs… And as his eyes drifted, he saw he was… Lying on the sofa.

Pelagius was kneeling on his left, holding out a broken ampule.

Septus was still nearby with his arms crossed. And Arcturus? The massive Turian was naked from the waist down. But he was anxiously watching a box he held, his attitude surprising.

“… Wh-What? What happened?” croaked Zal.

“Sorry, honey, I didn’t prepare you. It must have been a rough birth,” chuckled Pelagius, patting Zal’s cheeks.

“… Bi-Birth?”

Zal’s eyes widened while Pelagius snapped his fingers and ordered Arcturus to approach, leading the large Turian to follow, lean… And then open the box.

“Look at your babies. So big and strong. They ate well with you,” said Pelagius with a grin while he played with his omnitool.

Those ‘babies’, as he called them, were closer to two millipedes coiled on themselves. Their chitins were bright purple with a starry-like motif. And coiled like that, they looked downright… Massive. Impossible.

Zal gulped and then looked away, down, down his groin.

“If you want to do the implants, the sooner the better. Stop playing with your girl,” scoffed Septus.

“But she must see the birth. That’s why I recorded it.”

However, Zal’s eyes had focused on something else.

The Quarian’s thighs were the same as usual. Wide open, prepped, coated with cum, probably Arcturus’s, and milk. However, as he looked at his genitals, Zal saw a mess.

His ballsack was empty, like a purse that had been suddenly unpacked. The dark-gray skin had the texture of wrinkled leather and resembled it. Worse, it formed folds that piled up, creating little monds that could make one hope there was something left in that glabrous ballsack.

But no. It was empty. Entirely and thoroughly empty.

Yet, it was not the worst.

The worst was what Zal saw of his cock.

As a Quarian male, he’d been considered well-endowed before. Not outright massive like Pelagius, Arcturus, or even Cestus. In normal circumstances, outside the Hegemony, he could have easily awed people and women.

But after the treatment, his cock had shrunken, gone from ten inches to… Three at most? Getting hard had become narrowly impossible, and his foreskin had wrinkled, began to pile up, ending with his cock looking stubbier than it should.

However, at that moment, his cock looked closer to a barrel… Or a ruined tunnel.

The urethra gaped completely, forming a wide tunnel that wasn’t even closing through the weak contraction. And with the light coming from the neon, Zal could even peer at the pinkish walls inside, at the flesh-colored inners that had been used.

And… Through the mix of awe, curiosity, and shock… Zal had one finger pressed against the urethra, widening it a bit further before he inserted his digit down to the first knuckle. And he didn’t feel a thing.

“Oh yeah… It must have wrecked your prostate and bladder. But I’ll get that fixed,” chuckled Pelagius as he finally presented his arm and the screen above it.

_Zal was writhing and crying. Tears rolled down his cheeks while Arcturus’s arms held him. Worse, through all this, Zal remained impaled on the Turian’s dick.

His groin bulged from within, with the ridged presence moving up and down, as if it was thrusting and battering the Quarian’s inner workings to pry them open.

With each push, Arcturus hissed. But Zal cried, his voice reduced to a shrill note. One note that continued to ascend, reaching higher and higher.

“Go on, it’s almost out!” chuckled Pelagius, watching at the base of that cock that bulged obscenely._

_From an outside perspective, it seemed impossible for whatever bulged the base of that cock to go through the urethra. But the bulge seemed to bob back and forth, smacking against the base of the urethra while Pelagius encouraged it.

As Zal went quiet, his cock… Bulged. The urethra bulged from the base, and as if something was ascending, the segmented chitin bulged from the underside of that cocklet. Cocklet, which, through the stretching and bulging, reached beyond the four inches.

Four inches. That was bigger than what Zal could usually do. But here it was, the cock straightening, the foreskin going taut. And above all else, the organ seemingly reached a perfect erection with watery precum spurting free. Before the antennas popped free from the urethra, they were purple and covered in fluids, and then there was the head, covered in slime. The creature chittered and-_

Zal lowered his hand after pushing the screen away, hiding his mouth. He was feeling sick. Quite so. The Quarian dry-heaved while his fist pressed against his lips.

“Stop messing with her, Pelagius.”

“What? But it’s a big moment,” said the Turian, his voice again suave but dangerous, while Zal coughed and tried to push down his tears.

“It’s… Too much, Pelagius. Let her recover.”

Zal was almost glad Arcturus was there to speak. The brutish Turian could sing, but he was also a voice of reason… When he could stand up to Pelagius.

At the moment, the Officer growled and turned down the screen, opening his arms while scoffing.

“What? Are you trying to ruin that moment? It’s between her and me! Her little babies! My conquest! You cannot understand that!”

“I think it’s better if we do the operation… And send her back.”

Septus’ remark seemed not to satisfy Pelagius as he huffed. But the discussion ended on that note while Zal retched, trying to control the spasms shaking him.

He'd seen his cock stretched and ruined by a parasite, watched that creature spurt free from his dick in an almost gruesome way.

And he wasn’t feeling well.

Not even when Arcturus grabbed him and tried to help him stand.

“Let’s go,” whispered the Turian, while in the distance Pelagius seemed to be shouting. Zal? He only heard a faint ringing in his ear. His legs were weak, so he felt like they would give out at every step, even with Arcturus’s arm to support him while… Walking? Where?

“You’re ruining my fun!”

“Even for me, that’s messed up!”

“Yeah, because you don’t get the greatness of Quarian fags! She’s perfect!”

“She looks like shit.”

The exchange continued even though Zal couldn’t hear. And sometimes, he had to stop to spit the saliva that was filling the back of his throat.

The stench of refuse, of lube, of sex, of overbearing perfume, was too much for Zal, and his churning stomach seemed hellbent on making him regurgitate what he ate this morning.

Then came the smell of antiseptics and… The lack of weight?

Arcturus carried Zal, the Quarian’s arms dangling as they were going inside one of those… Body mods shop.

“Oh… What a poor girl. What happened to her?”

“Nothing. There’s already an order for a twin package, full monitoring. Septus, can you pay?”

However, as Zal tried to move and see, to watch… Something was strapped to his face, and he smelled something odd. Gas.

“Let’s sleep now, baby girl.”