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Mummerflies : A Simple Plan 2 – Breeding The Rabbit

Written by Rix Prime

As she knelt there on all fours, rump raised, her petals damp with her excitement, the scent of a bitch in heat smeared all over her, Wren prepared to be bred by the most unusual creature she’d ever encountered. Even though she couldn’t see it, she could imagine the chitin flashing in the sunlight, creeping ever closer. She could hear it skitter a few steps, buzz its wings, and then it was right there behind her.

Wren jumped when she felt the mummerfly’s head press up against her quim, the tiny antennae on its head twitching and exploring, testing to see if this creature it had found was a suitable host. “Holy… shit!” she exclaimed as it suddenly pulled back and then skittered up on top of her, chitinous legs digging into her sides and gripping her fur. She blinked when one of the drones moved close, capturing the look of surprise on her face.

“Yeah, holy shit is right,” Jiran murmured, directing the drones to various positions so they could record every single bit of the event. She looked up and watched as the mummerfly repositioned itself, iridescent chitinous body almost glittering with every minute motion it made. “G-get ready, Wren, I think it’s going to…” Before she could finish, the mummerfly’s head darted to Wren’s neck.

A brief lance of fire shot into Wren’s shoulder and she let out a ragged little cry of pain. Even knowing it was coming, feeling that bite and the fire of the insect’s venom starting to spread through her was surprisingly intense. She felt the mummerfly’s powerful legs grip her tighter, one pair just over her shoulders, another just under her breasts, and the last two holding her thighs in place. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” she yelled.

Just as that initial blaze of pain faded, seconds at most, warmth began to spread throughout Wren’s body from where she had been bitten. Wherever that warmth spread came a strange heightening of sensation. The moment it hit her loins, she nearly screamed with the suddenness of her arousal, her inner walls clenching. The powerful venom hit her brain at the same time, and she groaned. “God, I… oh shit oh fuck it… oh…” Her knees trembled and she felt her muscles tensing. She tried to reach back, to touch herself, but found herself unable to move her arm.

Jiran watched, open-mouthed, commenting in a low voice, “It acts so fast. Jesus, Wren, are you okay?” The sight of her friend, now helplessly in the grip of the mummerfly, was fascinating if not outright arousing. She focused one of the drones’ cameras on the rabbit’s mound, and was surprised to see that the rabbit was so excited that she was almost dribbling!

“M’okay,” Wren slurred. It was hard to think, hard to focus on anything but her growing arousal. She could feel the weight of the insect on her back, hard chitin against her soft fur. Each of the mummerfly’s spindly legs was digging in, holding her implacably in place. Each time she felt herself slipping to one side or another, the powerful sets of wings would buzz and it would correct her balance. “Feel… feel goooood,” she moaned. A powerful sense of bliss was beginning to wash over her, and thoughts of how good, how amazing it was going to feel to have the creature’s ovipostor pushing into her quim filled her mind.

“This is fucking amazing, Wren. You should see the look on your face. Your eyes, they’re-oh shit it’s curling!” Jiran exclaimed in a hushed, excited whisper. Even as she watched, the mummerfly’s gravid abdomen was curling forward and down. She set the drones into position to see everything they could. Her big brother, the only other soul who knew they were doing this, would edit the footage, with her own voice altered so nobody would recognize her.

Wren was near sobbing with just how horny she was. It was like going into season, but multiplied tenfold, and she couldn’t do a thing to satisfy it. Jiran’s words only barely registered, but soon she understood what was happening. She could feel the mummerfly’s lower end curling, bending. Dozens of little fine hairs on the abdomen brushed against her sex, and despite their size, she felt each and every one that touched that most sensitive of areas. “yes… god, yes, do it,” she slurred, tongue hanging out of her mouth. She was panting. Panting like some bitch in heat!

Drones all set to auto, Jiran settled back on her own rock, watching with rapt fascination as a slit on the bug’s abdomen, inches away from her best friend’s dripping wet sex, split and a fleshy, tapered translucent tube poked out. The mummerfly, sensing that its incubator was fully subdued, released her lower legs, gripping the other parts of her more tightly and buzzing its wings a few times to compensate. They prodded and touched, exploring, seeking the spot where it should bury its ovipostor first. When those hard feet finally found Wren’s sex, they pulled the labia wide, drawing out a cry from the rabbit. “Oh fucking hell, get ready Wren…” she murmured. The ovipostor was slowly moving forward unerringly. It was dripping with pale yellow ichor, and Jiran knew that the liquid would only enhance Wren’s induced arousal.

When the curling, undulating ovipostor’s tapered tip pressed into her slick depths, Wren’s heart -already beating rapidly from the venom- skipped a beat. She gasped and then began to whimper and pant even more enthusiastically, frustrated that she couldn’t even bring herself to rock her hips or press back against the insect’s penetration. Feeling the wriggling, undulating organ slowly but implacably prying her open was the culmination of weeks of planning. And years of fantasizing. She let out a low, guttural groan. She’d get to see it later, she dimly realized in a stray thought, when the video was done. That thought, mixed with the slow sense of pressure, almost made her reach her first climax.

That orgasm did hit Wren, crashing down on her with the force of an orbital strike, when that probing, squirming ovipostor connected with that small, sensitive spot deep inside her. Her pants and whimpers turned into a deep, throaty cry of bliss, and her inner walls rippled and squeezed the muscular organ probing ever deeper into her. She tried to keep focused, tried to keep herself alert, but the chemicals in the ichor exuded by the ovipostor was starting to take effect. Everything felt dreamlike, and a strange fog was settling over her mind. She could feel everything, but it was getting harder and harder to think of anything but being bred. She wanted to be filled with eggs, needed to be bred, to become a brood mother for the insect.

“Jesus, Wren,” Jiran whispered, her eyes taking in both the actual sight of her best friend’s debauchery and the feeds of the drones on her terminal. “Forgot you gush like a fire hose when you’re really into it.” Indeed, there was a puddle of fluid on the blanket beneath Wren, clear mixed with the yellow ichor that dripped slowly from the mummerfly’s ovipostor and slit. Without thinking, Jiran slid her hand under the waistband of her shorts and drew a finger between her labia up to her clit, making her own pleasure at watching her friend being taken by the insect.

Wren’s sudden gasp and then short pained yell made Jiran pause, and with a bit of concern she asked, “What’s wrong?” For a few moments, she was ready to turn the drones to defensive mode, but Wren was shaking her head slightly.

“N-nothing, it just… oh god, it’s in my womb…” Wren managed to say between pants and whimpers. “Hurts, but we knew t’would.” The sensation of the insect’s ovipostor, deeper in her than anything had ever penetrated, was both uncomfortable and intensely pleasurable. There was the ache of having her womb breached by the thing, but the way the smooth organ was constantly moving had little waves of ecstasy rocking through her.

Jiran teased and rubbed at her clit, watching with anticipation. She could see her friend’s desperation deepen in the wide pools of brown and black that stared out from above her wide-open mouth. “Oh this is so fucking hot, Wren. You look amazing. God, I wish it could be me,” she said breathily.

Her breath caught when she saw it on the feed focused closely on Wren’s quim and the ovipostor stretching her open; the slit at the base of the ovipostor was widening, and within the translucent organ she could see a small ping-pong ball sized egg starting to descend the length. The sight brought her over the edge, and she bit down on her tongue to keep from screaming as she came. Though she wouldn’t gush like her friend, she certainly did get a lot more wet, a dribble of excitement making a wet spot on her shorts.

Wren, who normally would have made a comment about Jiran enjoying herself a bit too much, found herself unable to form words, just babbling unintelligibly. When she felt the ovipostor swell, stretching her opening wide, she knew what it meant. The first of many, many eggs was coming. The stretch was uncomfortable, but not overly painful, and the haze of need that overrode every desire she had made her actually enjoy the sensation. She was being bred, filled with eggs. If allowed to, if Jiran didn’t rescue her after the mummerfly was done, she would spend the next few weeks in an unnatural heat that she’d be unable to resist.

A second egg followed soon after the first, then a third began to stretch Wren open just as the first pressed against that same maddeningly pleasurable spot inside her… and all thought flew from her mind as wave after blinding wave of orgasmic bliss pulsed through her body. She only dimly felt the sharper pain of her cervix being stretched to accommodate the first egg. Already the relaxant and chemicals in the ichor were making her womb more receptive, and a gush of heat bloomed as a fat glob of the stuff was deposited in her… and then a subtle weight accompanied it.

Jiran let out a low moan of her own, teasing and rubbing her clit. She hastily tugged her shorts down to give herself better access, and soon she was pressing two digits into her own passage, legs splayed out lewdly. The feeds on the terminal showed every detail of Wren’s breeding. With growing excitement, she watched as egg after egg stretched the rabbit’s quim, a little bulge soon showing on her plump belly. The look in Wren’s eyes was glassy and completely lost to desperate need. She’d grown quiet, only grunting quietly and letting out low little moans. It was everything Jiran had ever wanted to feel and see, and some part of her wondered if the vicarious pleasure of helping her best friend fulfill their shared fantasy would be enough.

“Oh wow, this is so fucking hot,” Jiran whispered hoarsely, driving her fingers into her cunt over and over as she saw the bulge of Wren’s belly grow. The rabbit was seemingly having orgasm after orgasm, if the widening puddle of mingled fluids beneath her was any indication. Finally, somehow sensing that the pressure inside was reaching a dangerous point, the mummerfly tugged the ovipostor out, drawing one final ragged groan from Wren. Jiran knew there was more to come; the mummerfly was gravid with eggs, and would fill every hole it could.

Wasting not even a moment, the tapered tip of the bug’s ovipostor drew upwards. This was the part that Jiran knew Wren wouldn’t enjoy as much, but the fennec knew she would certainly enjoy watching. The cry that pealed from Wren when the alien organ forced its way in under her tail was some bizarre mixture of delight and discomfort, and the sound of it was what set Jiran’s own climax off. She threw back her head and let out a yipping little howl. Make fun of how I sound when I come NOW, Wren, she thought.

The rabbit whimpered and trembled, helpless to do anything but endure as the ovipostor probed and pressed into places she’d never felt touched. Though she couldn’t feel the actual organ, the way it moved her skin and her insides was something she felt with every inch it pressed into her. The ovipostor finally stopped pressing in, and she could feel a pressure up near her diaphragm. “So… deep…” she slurred. Absent the overwhelming pleasure of having her quim invaded and stretched, she had regained some clarity. Already though, her desire and arousal were growing anew, the need to be filled and bred creeping into her mind. Her stretched passage was drooling yellow and clear fluid, her labia swollen and puffy. If allowed to, it would only get worse, and that was why Jiran was here. To rescue her when all was well and done.

Suddenly, there was more pressure and a greater stretching, drawing the ache under her tail into sharper intensity. “Ah… oh fuck it’s b-big,” she gasped, and was rewarded with Jiran’s excited chuckle. Just when she thought that she was going to actually be hurt, the stretching stopped. The first egg was past that tight ring of muscle, descending along the ovipostor. Her eyes watered as another one began to spread her open again. She wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take, but there was no stopping it as over and over, the pressure came followed by a painful stretching and then blessed relief.

Somewhere between the fifth and the sixth egg deposited in her bowel, though, the pain began to shift and change. “Whu?” she intoned, confused as the seventh’s pressure mounted. This time though, when the egg reached its apex and the relief came, she felt a thrill of pleasure suffuse her entire body. It wasn’t an orgasm, she knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t mind-searingly powerful, for one, and it was more of an emotional sort of pleasure.

Some part of her knew what was happening; some small part of her mind that was fully aware remembered the research she’d done. The venom and the ichor and the eggs themselves were altering her very instincts, changing her perception of what those sensations meant. It happened even with some earth species. With chemicals and pheromones, one creature could ‘imprint’ on another and make them care for them, even raise them as their own. This was what the mummerfly was doing to her, just in a different way. When the eighth egg began to stretch her anus, she found she wanted to feel the blossom of pain and discomfort… and when it passed into her, she felt a sense of blissful fulfillment wash over her. “Oh Jiran… AHFUCK… Jiran it’s amazing,” she gasped.

Jiran watched, rapt with fascination as the creature pumped Wren’s bowel as full as it could. Whimpers and soft moans spilled from Wren’s lips, and Jiran could see tears in her friend’s eyes. Finally, with a lewd slurping sound, the insect tugged its ovipostor out. “Wren? You… are you…” Jiran asked, lazily stroking fingers between her petals. The rabbit nodded, shuddering from head to toe.

Wren found herself able to move again, albeit slowly, and she craned her neck to look directly at one of the drones and blew it a little kiss. “F-feels so good. Hurts, aches, oh it’s so sore, but it’s so good… oh!” Her eyes widened as the legs of the mummerfly released her in full and quickly whipped itself around then gripped tight again. This time, the insect’s head lay just over her little spade-tail, two legs over her rump, two across her swollen belly, and then two holding her head, the sensory hairs on them quickly telling the mummerfly where its next target was. “F-fast. So fast,” she said in a low, husky tone.

Her eyes wide, Wren watched as that squirming ovipostor pushed out of a small slit in the insect’s lower abdomen. The scent of the ichor that coated the organ made her quim ache. She knew what was expected, what was needed. This, she knew, would be an ordeal, the least pleasant of the three, but even if the instinct and desire hadn’t been imprinted on her, she would have willingly opened her mouth. She flicked her tongue out and tasted the ichor that coated the ovipostor. It was sharp and sweet and foul all at once, and the oily substance coated her tongue, making it linger.

Suddenly, the organ shoved into her mouth and at the back of her throat. She tried to make a noise, but all that she could produce was a gurgle. She felt herself swallowing, her own motions helping the organ press down deeper. It was with surprise that she realized that her gag reflex had been suppressed. It was so wrong feeling, but at the same time she knew it was natural, it was what she needed more than anything.

“Fucking hell, Wren,” Jiran groaned, “If you could just fucking see yourself right now. And you will…” She made her terminal guide one of the spherical drones close, getting a clear shot of the rabbit’s still-gaping pussy and stretched tailhole. The sight made the fennec’s own inner walls clench, and she found herself masturbating with purpose a second time. She imagined the sandy fur on her thighs smeared with the yellowish ichor, matted with the honey of her own pleasure. It wasn’t long before she was letting out little yips and gasps.

Jiran groaned when she saw the first egg swell the ovipostor and pass Wren’s lips. The rabbit’s eyes went wild and she gurgled, tears streaking down her cheeks. Jiran could see the doe’s throat bulge as one, then another, and another was forced down her throat. Each time one did, the fennec drove her fingers as deep as she could into her passage. It wouldn’t be long before she came a second time at this rate.

Not as many eggs were laid in Wren’s belly as either her womb or her bowel, but it took nearly a full minute, and by the time the slick organ was withdrawn, her throat was as sore as any part of her. It was done. The mummerfly’s legs almost immediately released her, but she stayed in the same position, gasping and coughing. The taste wouldn’t leave her mouth, and everything ached. She felt as if she’d over-eaten at a buffet, like she needed to empty her bowels, the deep desperate ache not receding in the least. What she also felt, though, was need. Even now, she knew her scent would be a beacon for anything with a penis to make a beeline for her. Predator, prey, it didn’t matter. Allowed to, they would mount her, mouth and ass and cunt in turn.

“Holy fuck,” Jiran groaned. She was laid out on the rock, legs hanging down a little, masturbating. Soon, the insect would flutter its wings and fly away, and that would be her queue to turn off the drones and call for help. She frowned. Why wasn’t it doing that already? Why wasn’t it going off to rest or find another incubator? It had to have many more eggs.

The mummerfly, chitin gleaming, was fluttering its wings, but it seemed to be searching for something. With a sudden skittering motion, it climbed off of Wren, who slumped to her side, holding her belly and moaning. Her eyes watched the mummerfly, and to Jiran’s surprise the rabbit was watching her and the mummerfly both, expectation and understanding in her eyes. “It smells you,” Wren croaked. “It knows. It thinks its found another female in heat.”

With those words, Jiran understood quite clearly what the mummerfly was doing as it skittered just a bit more toward her. The mummerfly was looking directly at her, its multifaceted eyes glittering, mouth-parts twitching. It wanted her. It wanted, and was ready, to fill her with more of its brood.

Jiran came.