FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

We hunt, we track, we feed.

Our hunger is our guide, as our tongue stretches through the air to catch glimpses of smell. The stench of gas and car is strong, swarming our nostrils and senses. It almost drowns everything, every scent that could be a prey. There's no sweat, no saliva, no blood, nothing strong enough to fight against that persistent odor. But we follow, we jump, we advance through the New York streets.

For days, we have been hungry but for something more thrilling. We could kill our victims, but everyone would know. A part of us says it is bad; we should do better. Venom should do better.

We are not a mindless monster killing everything that moves. This is true. We are better than this. We are better… But the hunger. The hunger plagues us as we jump onto another rooftop, near the river. Across the bridge, we could hunt, too. But no… We stay put, watch, and listen while we glance down.

Down, there is a club. Prey go there to shout and shake themselves, to find mates and breed. Breed… We should do that.

We observe and watch as people rush out of the place. It is past midnight; most Prey sleep that hour, and those who do not breed are slinking away. No breeders. No children. No family. It is good. If there is a criminal, we can feast. But no. Prey are wearing costumes, which means they are different types of criminals, but we cannot touch them. Prey are wearing rags… They are not criminals, but we have pity on them. We must.

Prey… There is one Prey. Fair skin, short hair, blue eyes, muscular build. He has no rags. He has no costume. He has a weapon at his belt. He could be a criminal. We can do with that.

Our tongue strokes our lips as we are hungry. Saliva dribbles from our mouth, all over our serrated teeth, over our pectorals. Our stomach rumbles, but we ignore it for a moment as we jump on another roof, and another. Nobody sees us as we advance and stalk the Prey. He looks around but not up. And we can slip past him as he is taking a turn left then right, disappearing in the small alleys. He is small, but it shall suffice.

He stops. We flick the air, and despite the gas odor, he is alone. Nobody is around, no bum, nothing. He has turned away from us, facing a wall. It is perfect as we jump down… Down… Down on the group that quakes and breaks under us. Are we getting heavy? No, we are not. This is fine. The Prey has heard us, but this is no problem.

“GET- GET AWAY!" cries the Prey, pulling the gun out from under his belt to point it at us. It shoots once… Twice. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU?"

The projectiles hit us, but not through. Our body endures the bullet, even if we are slowed. It still hurts. But this is fine. We approach the Prey, licking our lips and smiling.

“We… Are… Venom."

“Th- The fuck are you! Don't approach me!" shouts the Prey. By that time, he should have run away. One shot or two, then fleeing, most criminals do that. But his grip on the gun is wrong. He is no criminal.

We flail the air, no smell of drugs either. None of blood. Only one, more intense, more sweeter, more… Pleasing?

We have never smelled such an aroma before. It heightens our hunger as we watch the Prey. He is almost naked. If he has one hand on the gun, the other is on his pants. He has been doing something with his private parts, with his… Dick. The pinkish parts are slipping out of his pants. It is no weapon like we have assumed. It is not. It is his genitals only… Even if he is bigger than most Prey. Well, any Prey we have seen. It is… Comparable to a bat. It is surprising he can even walk with that or even get erect…

But the smell comes from it. We should not do that. But the Hunger. The Hunger pushes us to approach despite the cries.

“Get away! Ge- Get away!" stumbles the Prey, taking a few steps back. However, it stumbles on the held pants. He slips, and with a loud cry, he is on his backside with his lower body exposed. It would be easy to eat him… But again, the smell.

“We are hungry," we say, our tongue licking our lips as we approach and drop on all four, crawling closer to that Prey, who cannot retreat. “You are meat."

“D- Don't eat me! I have money! Family! My- My father waits for me!"

Family? He should not have a family. But it should not matter to us; we are Hungry? We are Hungry. But there is the smell. It tempts us. We must taste it. Our tongue is perfect for this… And it drops, it slips, it escapes our mouth to flail the air.

The Prey's cries are loud but supportable when we taste the aroma. Sex… Fluids… Cum. But there is something else. The Prey's perfume is close to oil and… Meat. No, beasts. It is surprising, but it tempts us.

“Ge- Get away."

“Silence. Let us taste it."

The Prey shuts up, we can work. The scent is strong and potent. It assails our nose and our taste buds. We need more. And there is that… cock. Long but soft, the foreskin covers it, covers the cockhead. Under our touch, the Prey quivers, but our claws are not out. We touch, feel the soft flesh beneath. It is so soft, but as we touch it, caress it, it reacts. It throbs, jumps, and within a second… Blood rushes to it, turning the skin redder and inflating it.

An erection. Can we do the same? We can.

But the Hunger. Our tongue returns to the cock as it throbs and starts to rise. The blood rushes to it, and in so, the cock is arising. Its erection pushes higher and slightly bending on the right as it passes beyond the hairy pubes. With it, the smell grows more intense, especially near the tip. The perfume… The aroma that abandons oil and meat to replace it with the scent of… Beasts. A bestial perfume we take in, we inhale, we let it fill our lungs and tickle our senses. It is a good scent, one that refines and exacerbates our needs.

“Pl-Please! Don- Don't hurt me," whines the Prey, cutting through our thoughts.

We could let the Prey go. But the Hunger. No… We have to taste it. It is probably soft under our teeth. Or we could use our tongue and see where it goes.

Our mouth opens wider; our teeth no longer approach the skin. Instead, it is with our tongue that we touch the throbbing flesh. Yes, it is hard but still smooth as our tongue slowly slips around it. In the contact, everything fizzles and tickles our brain. But it is good: we sense the faint chemical of lust coming from the human as much as hearing his pleased moans.

He is still afraid of us, it reeks. But he is more relaxed as we slip more of our tongue around his cock. With each movement, the shaft tenses. The shaft throbs. The shaft… Continues to grow and grow, forcing us to extend our tongue more and more as we wrap the soft flesh with it. It tastes good, it is good, but the Hunger is still there.

Our teeth and jaws remain apart from the flesh. But there's so little to satisfy us here, so little as our tongue reaches down to the base, as it has entirely coiled around it. Down, there are bushes, and they don't taste as good even if their perfume remains enticing.

We sigh. The Prey sighs, moans, mumbles something as his hand suddenly reaches for our tongue. And despite our hissing, he closes his hand on our tongue, locking them. But his nails are not planted in the appendage. No, but they push against our tongue, making it slightly hurt.

“What-"

“M-More!" grunts the Prey, cutting us off. Rude.

More rude of him when he starts to tug down our tongue. Somehow, our delicate touch is used to brush over that smooth skin. He uses our tongue to rub against his cock. He is masturbating. He is using us to masturbate, hurting us as he moans and groans.

“Yes! More!" cries the Prey, not stopping as his other hand goes on our tongue, higher. It presses on one part and keeps rubbing it. And then… He groans.

A deep growl escapes the Prey, and something comes from his cock. It is a liquid, just like the one covering the cock. But it has the taste. It has the taste we want. The taste we crave for. It is precum, only human precum. Yes, but we want it. We want it as that Prey pushes more and more against our tongue, and we swallow it.

It is salty and filled with chemicals we crave… Milking would be possible. Maybe milking humans of that liquid could be possible. Whores, that's what humans do to milk other humans? No, it's for something else.

Another groan.

Another spurt of precum hits our tongue, coating it with that subtle and wondrous aroma. One, we usher against the coiling appendage until it goes down our throat. More. We need more. More as that Prey uses our tongue to masturbate. But as he does so, we imitate him.

Our coiling muscles slip around, with one going over the mushroom-shaped tip. The corona we press against while we form a sort of funnel at the end, where the liquid comes from.

The Prey doesn't notice us as he masturbates, his face contorted in an idiotic grin. He's babbling, too, but nothing useful comes from his satisfied grunts. It doesn't matter if he is pleased. We are getting what we want.

Still, the flow isn't enough to satisfy us. It is thick, yes. It is tasteful, yes. It has everything we need, yes. But it is not enough.

But it is only precum. Nothing but a portion of what he could do, it seems.

“Give me… More."

More… yet, the Prey doesn't seem to care about us or our needs. His hands keep gripping our tongue to squeeze and use it as a toy. But his breathing is faster, his face growing red, too. The odor of fear has dissipated. There's only the musk and the excitation we can smell from that man as his body tenses up.

He should be cumming, soon. Releasing his seed.

We open our mouth and force onward. Maybe he is afraid of our teeth, but missing any droplets would be a waste. Anything but wasting food.

His movements accelerate, his lungs lift and drop while he opens his lips. No more words… Only those movements as he pumps up and down… As our soft tongue graze the skin, presses and coats his flesh with saliva. Of our swollen and ribbed tastebuds, he presses them on different spots he seems to prefer.

Spots where he rubs, grinds, and grinds until his moans grow higher and higher. He is at his limits. He is about to cum. His face is red, his body tensing up, his legs. The smell of sex is heavy, so is the one of excitation.

And… He cries.

The Prey cries again, but not for help. His screams are high and potent but instantly drop in a concert of hashed moans as his groin contracts. We… We prepare.

We prepare as his cock throbs inside our tongue, as we feel the flow running inside and ascending its length. We swallow our saliva in anticipation, and… There it is.

It tastes sweet. No… Not sweet. But more pleasant than anything we have tasted. Flesh does not compare. Its salty aroma and perfume spread over our tongue, slip through our lips, flood our mouth. Everything is heavy and sticky, salty with a slight touch of acidity through its pungency. But more than that… It is filling. Filling and perfect to swallow as he cums.

More… And more.

Somehow, the Prey keeps ejaculating more inside. It fills us. We gulp the fluid down, sensing its warmth down our belly. Ever so slowly, the Hunger eases up. It does not assault us, our mind. It allows us to think, to ponder, yet we do not stop. Such a meal is not to be wasted, and that Prey… That Human keeps pushing more inside. We swallow it gulp after gulp, feeling the chunky cum drops past our throat, but… More come.

It has been minutes. And yet, that Human keeps cumming and keeps using our tongue. His groin contracts again, and he cries again, uncaring of us. Uncaring as more cum flows through and covers our mouth, our face, our traits. Our eyes remain untouched, white and frowning. But he might as well reach them with another shot as his balls continue to clench and pump more cum in us, on us.

“Fu-Fuck! That's! Good!" he cries, his face pointing up as his fingers are giving out. They tremble but release their grip, allowing us to retract our tongue. But we keep the end coiled around the tip, as a funnel to fill our Hunger.

Even if our belly is distending and feeling heavier than ever before, we continue… We have to be replete so we do not have to hunt a different Prey. It is better that way. And yet… The flow stops.

“That… That was good. Uh-… Fu-Fuck."

The Prey is coming back to his senses. The smell of fear and horror clings to him. He could shout, scream. We have enough; we have been satisfied enough. We can flee, we can leave.

In a sweeping movement, our tongue uncoils and rolls back inside our mouth, liberating the red but soft cock as it drops on the man's crotch.

“We are no longer hungry. You are lucky."

Yes, the Human is lucky. We could have eaten him, but he gave us a proper meal…

One that is to satisfy us for days.

---

Or so we thought.

After getting our fill, we fled the scene before the Human could cry again. We were too uncautious and took too much time, people might have noticed us. But still, those three days after were perfect. We did not suffer from the Hunger and could explore this place more beyond what we used to know of it in our previous life.

Yet, it only took us three days before we sensed the rumbling in our stomach once more. Enough for us to experience the need to feed once more. But after that Human, it was obvious we could try other options to feed. We tried masturbating, too. We are male, too. And as we stroked, masturbated, and tried to get some cum… It did not taste good enough for us.

“It tastes too acidic!"

“What else could we do?"

It could not satisfy our needs. Its flavor was imperfect, and the nutrients inside were not enough. It is expected, we consume what we need; what we cannot produce.

But other humans. Other humans might.

Therefore, once more, we are hunting for our meals, not to kill. We found another human near another bar club with his cock exposed. He is a good target, a potential one, as he is not listening to us as we slip closer. This man is taller than the other human. He is balding, the skin darker, the wrinkles visible and the hands calloused. He should be a good specimen.

Or not.

“G- Get your… Stuff away!" shouts the Human, no different than a Prey.

“You are small."

Small. This is the term when that organ is small, too small for us. It is barely reaching four inches compared to the other.

“Hey! My dick's fine!" shouts back the human before his expression drops out of shame.

“Pathetic."

Yet, we are hungry. This time, we have attached the human to the wall with only his mouth free. So there will be no hand reaching and grabbing our tongue. We can use it in peace, extend it to caress the skin, to stroke it, to taste it. The smell is less intense. It is there; we can smell it. It is the same but much weaker, or is this our Hunger that is weaker?

It doesn't matter. Our tongue rolls and coils, dances, and shifts around the mast. It does not take long for it to rise and erect. The blood rushes to it, making it throb and full of energy, heat, life. Precum follows for us, spraying our mouth with its presence. But there's nothing to ease or sharpen our hunger.

Our hunger does not care for this fluid. Maybe we need to milk him more?

“Do not move."

“It's not like I ca-… Sorry," bemoans the Prey, his eyes looking down when we frown at him.

He is afraid of us, and his fluids are not satisfying, leaving us with no option but to try something else. We lean forward, our hands on our chest like those scenes we have seen in many “movies". Our flesh is soft and perky, and perfect. It might be dark as charcoal and fresh to the touch, but it has the beef and the form to satisfy.

“Wh-What are you doing?"

“Using tits! To milk you, Prey," we answer with a chuckle despite his appalled look. Yes, we can use our chest. Our fingers dig beneath it, support it, lift it. Our tendrils underline our pecs, giving them a better shape that makes them “bouncier" just like the men desired in the movies.

And we hold him in between, squeezing his cock. Our tongue is solely on the tip to swirl and caress it.

But our tits are around it, pressing on either side. We hold them together and squeeze them while we massage the Prey's mast. We collect and touch. We let our tongue dance around his cock to collect the fluids that have dribbled all over the length. We use the tip to trace the corona, the limit of the uncovered glans, play with where the frenum would have been.

With our hands, we squeeze and press, we rub our skin against it until everything feels warmer: our skin, his cock. Blood rushes to his cock, harder, faster. The throbs are undeniable, but this is not enough. Our hands are still pressing harder even as our tits are getting misshapen and flattened, but there is no satisfying precum.

Maybe we could imitate the Human before.

His hands went up and down. So do ours. We keep everything pressed around the Prey's cock, but we try to shift our squeezes up and down. Faster, better, with more strength.

“Hah! S-Stop! It- It hurts!" screams the Human.

There is still no precum, no cum for us.

“Give it to us."

“Wh-What?"

“Your semen, Prey, give it to us! Feed us!" we roar, but he doesn't give it to us. His cock is even softer than before.

“I can't! You're-! You're hurting me!"

Hurting. It should not hurt. We are not good at this. It should be pleasing. He should be begging for more, crying because we are so good at this. We can ponder on this or try to force him. Milking his cock does not work. But we can use our body to improve him!

“H-hey. Wh-What are you doing down there. It- It's funny! It… Tingles!"

“Silence."

We concentrate, we have to. Our tongue slips and descends, sinking against those black and hairy testicles. The skin is covered with cold sweat, reeking of it. But our tongue splits and spreads, as our shape admits that Prey. That man. His cock is small, his testicles… They are fine. Maybe it is not that the issue?

No. He is imperfect.

He cries and shouts as we spread across his testicles, absorbing them, making them a part of us as we sink in. There is so much inside, so much we have ignored in our body. But we only take the groin, the base… The scrotum. The suit is partially on him, covering him as he cries and shakes against his bindings. Too bad for him, our web is too strong for him to slip away.

There is so much to improve. There are the nuts to make bigger; it could help, yes. And the prostate, it seems a bit small, we think. It could help if we increase its size. And its sensitivity. Yes.

The Prey squirms, but we are doing it for his own good.

“You should thank us."

“Wh- You're… What are you doing to my balls?! Help! Heeeeeelp! HEEEEELP!"

We frown. The man is shouting louder, it makes us suffer. With one finger, we silence him as the web sticks to his face. He won't scream anymore, and we can focus. His cock is hard again. The prostate is bigger, and the balls are twice their previous size.

It should be enough. Enough for us.

Enough for our mouth as we return to it, as we swirl our tongue against the tip and press our tits again. This time, he will like it. He will ejaculate and feed us.

This time, we are slower, too. Hurting him won't do any good as we grip and keep his cock massaged. And this time, he seems to like it. His mouth might be chewing on the web, with a fail, but his eyes are rolling, and the stench of fear is gone.

His cock is stiff, throbbing, alive. And there it is! The precum! The sweet fluid that lands on our tongue but… It is not perfect. It should be his fluids, not ours. But it does not taste as good as the Human before. It is still too acrid and not salty enough. The nutrients are lacking, we hunger…

We hunger, and his cock is hard-pressed between our hands. We cannot stop anymore. We cannot let our slow movement leave us needy and waiting. We squeeze and press again, flattening our tits around his cock while we move faster. His cries are muffled, and the stench of fear is back. But he is still excited and hard. More precum pours out, right into our throat. Still, it should be enough. We will make do with that. He's not a good specimen, a good Prey. But it will suffice so we don't kill.

We press, milk, play. The tongue swirls while we continue to shift the Human's prostate. It needs to be bigger again. Bigger means more fluids and more contraction. Bigger means we can have what we want faster. Faster and the Human won't bother us.

So it grows, it is growing and the Human's moans heighten. It helps him, too. It is a gain for us as we keep massaging and squeezing, coating that cock with our saliva. He squirms, his legs are tensing. But we feel his orgasm closing in, the rush of adrenaline in his blood. And more hormones, so full of hormones. He is about to ejaculate, his prostate is contracting faster, and we gulp all that precum down, to ease our Hunger.

“Give it to us! Feed us!"

Tears streak across his face; the traits are contorted by fear. Even if he should not fear us. We are kind and generous, we do not kill tonight. We feast on what we can to avoid unwanted kills. It is better that way.

More muffled huffs come from the man. Our hands accelerate so much our tits are warm, extremely warm, and so is his cock. It pulses with life, grows redder. The precum thickens and goes whiter. We open wider, we smile, and… He shoots.

The Human shoots in our mouth, splashing it with his seed. It is… Saltier. And more nutritive this time, a bit more. The chunkiness is almost the right texture, but it is still lacking. The scent is not there, the flavor not as intense. And those shots. They're pathetic. Only four, and the Prey is done. This is not enough, not enough for what we have done for him.

“Feed us! More!" we shout, rubbing our tits harder. But the muffled cries go higher and… No, there is no fluid. His cock is going soft. We cannot use him to feed him.

“Pfah! Worthless Prey!"

The suit around the Human slips away and returns to us, sliding through his flesh, which has even started to chase us. A worthless Prey who doesn't understand our sympathy and niceness. He is stupid. But we are kind. Even if his body rejects us or fails us, we leave him the gift. His prostate will be bigger, and so will his testicles. He will need them to breed, after all. It is our kindness. Even if we are hungry.

So hungry. Too hungry to think of being nice.

A criminal would do, then.

---

Again… The Hunger.

But we studied, that time. We watched more movies and studied movements. We know we have to do circle movement with our tits, not just squeeze them now. It will be better for our hunt. And the prostate enlargement was a good idea. We are smart-

“Hmm?"

The smell.

There is the smell. The smell that makes our Hunger peak and our needs grow. He is there. That human… That Prey. That… Fluid.

We are not near the club where we found it, and the smell of gas should stop us from smelling him if he's too far. So, he is close. The neighborhood? This is a good place. Relatively isolated, with small buildings peppered with access stairs. Whatever he is doing, we can reach him.

Our nose up and the webs flinging from roof to roof, we finally… Have him.

He is there, leaning against a railing, smoking while glancing at the night sky above. But he has not noticed us. Not seen us yet. This time, however, he is clothed and wearing a hoodie with jeans. Tight jeans as they're outlining that cock. His scent… His smell is exquisite. We have to get him and milk him again.

Unaware of us, he does not see us landing on the roof and descending the stairs railing. Careful to approach, to have him… We are close, just so close for another milk. Another meal, it would not hurt.

“You're here. Right?"

We blink. The human doesn't even look at us as he takes another puff, his ass presented to us. But he is talking to us… Is he?

“I can feel it. My hair's standing on my neck and all, just like last time. Are you here for something? For… uh. My cum?"

Yes, he's talking to us, and he turns, facing us. Yet, he is not smug. He does not smile. He only looks us up and down before he crushes the smoke on the handrailing.

“I… I felt like you'd come back, somehow. Is this strange?"

“We are hungry."

“Yeah. Guess not," says the Human, shaking his head. “Could we not do that outside? I had to run away. People might have seen me with my dick out. It's not a good thing for us, you know?"

Yes. He might have been exposed. Much like the other unworthy Prey. But more than that, he is… Unafraid. There is no smell of fear sticking to him, only the one of tobacco. A bad one.

“We are hungry. We do not wait."

“Two seconds," he grumbles as he throws the smoke away and points at the window near where he is. It is open, and without looking at us, he enters. And we follow.

The room is… Fine. The ceiling is too low for us, so we bend. But it is big enough for a bedroom with a large bed and clothes thrown here and there. The scent of cum clings to the air, stirred by a ceiling fan. In the back, a turned-on television offers the background noise of a shooting. It feels just like our home. Our previous flat before we lost it.

“What's your name?"

“We are Venom."

“Nice name. How many are inside… You?" asks the Human, visibly making small talk as he removes his hoodie.

Even if he smells, we can smell cum elsewhere. From… Those boxes beside the bed and the crumbled tissues. He glances at them, lean towards them.

“Don't look at them. I am weak, and I have needs. Could we… Go to what you came for?"

“You wasted your cum."

“Yes. Bec-"

“You wasted food!"

Such good food was wasted and ruined, spilled, thrown aside. Food… Food we hunger, food we need. And he wasted it! All of it on… Tissues! He could have done it again if we were not there. So we turn, watch him as he's naked again, his cock flopping half-hard against his legs.

“Fuck! If I knew I'd rile you up so bad, I'd have kep-"

“You won't waste cum anymore!"

We rush, we advance, and we push him on the bed. We did not use our claws or our strength. Still he groans and screams as he lands on his back. He flails his arms, going to protect his face. But we don't move any further.

“F-Fuck!" he shouts, the smell of fear appearing in the air. “What's gotten into you? I can't- Shit! I'm proposing to a freak to suck my dick! That's crazy! And you're telling me I- I should do what! Not cum? Not crank one when I'm feeling it?!"

“I will milk you."

“… What?"

The human blinks as fear disappears. But the confusion remains as we climb onto the bed. It creaks and squeaks, the frame whimpering under our weight. But we squat above him, right above his groin. Slowly, we unpack our genitals, letting them land on the Human's belly. Our cock is big, too, and so are our balls. It should arouse and excite him, yet he looks at us with that same confused expression.

“Fuck… I- What? Do you plan to stay here and suck me dry when I am horny?"

“We could."

We could? We could. We have nothing else besides the hunt and the Hunger… And the search. It is fine if we are with that human and don't kill. Indeed, this is fine.

“You could?"

“We would not be hungry."

The Human blinks, watching us up and down. And yes, the smell of arousal is here. But he keeps glancing at us.

“Are you serious, big guy?"

“We are Venom."

“I- I know," he says, surprised, then shakes his head. “But I don't know you and- Oh… Fuck, fuck it!"

Suddenly, his hands go on our legs. He touches them, feels them. Then, he explores our lower belly. Our genitals, touching our soft cock and low-hanging balls. At that point, humans are aroused and erect, so… Our cock suddenly shifts and straightens, pointing at him and oozing our black precum.

“O-Okay, that's too big for what we want. It will never enter me."

“Never enter you? Why? Why would we do that?"

“Because… Hmm. Okay, Venom? Lift me that ass a bit," ordered the Human, the Prey.

It is preposterous. But he seems to know how to handle it and milk himself. If we learn from him, we can use that. So… We follow his order, lifting our posterior as his hands go behind to grip, to reach for our ample buttcheeks. The muscles underneath our skin are powerful and round, giving it the perfect rotundity for a healthy male. One, the Human appreciates as he strokes it, even going between our cheeks.

“Fucking also… Works. We can do more than sucking, and, wait… What's that?"

“Our asshole."

“Yes, but… It feels like a fleshlight. That's… I've never seen that."

We huff. He could not have seen that. It is our hole, unique. His fingers are all over our swollen entrance, touching the muscular rim that keeps everything inside when needed. The muscle is swollen and in a dark-purple shade, but unless we spread our cheeks, nobody can see it. Nobody has seen it before. And now, there's that Human who is stroking it, tracing the slight nodules along the flesh, the wrinkles, and then… Pushes inside.

“Hrmph! What are you doing, Prey?!"

“My name's Jake! And I'm trying that hole. Are you… Wait? Are you virgin?"

We scoff. No. We had many experiences before. But never with that passage. Never have we felt such a craving as the fingers slip in and get sucked. Our rim, our muscles, are holding it in, and it feels… Good. Excellent even. We need more of it. More of that finger inside.

“Hu-"

“Jake!"

“Jake… We need more than one finger inside. Add another."

“Are you-"

“YES!"

Spit flies, but he relents. Jake relents and adds another finger, pushing through our rim and stretching it beyond what it was. There is the heat and the intense tremor, the strength against our rim, our muscles, our insides. We find it, enjoy it, appreciate it as our asshole closes on those fingers to hold them. But like before, like our Hunger growing and gnawing, we need more.

“Another finger!"

“You're crushing my fingers!"

“Another!"

Even if he's surprised and the stench of fear has reappeared somehow, small touches in our nose, he complies. And that scent is replaced by the one of need, of sex, of feeling and sensing his erection against our thighs. He is excited, and he's not hiding it. Not as he adds another finger inside us. He squeezes through, pushes through, forces the tip in a fight against us.

We could crush him, break, destroy. But it would ruin his appreciation and lust; we could not milk him, then. So, we relent. We allow him to explore, feeling his fingers going deeper and deeper. And then, he taps something.

“What's that?"

“What, what?"

“That! Your fingers! Do it again!"

Another tap. Our body trembles from the sensation, from the exploration, from the need. Whatever the Hu-Jake does, it sends us trembling and aching, our own cock springing to life. Whatever he does, it makes the satisfaction from eating inconsequential. Even our Hunger, that Hunger plaguing us, eating at our guts. It disappears. And is replaced by another. Another desire.

“Keep hitting!"

“I- Uh, okay!"

The fingers, three at a time, drum against that spot, and our body grows warmer from the assault; our cock sprays more black precum onto Jake's belly. But even then, he doesn't seem to stop. Our heartbeat accelerates like in a hunt. The air is thick and musky, filling our nose with all the aromas coming from Jake. And his precum, we smell it, too. It grows thicker, adding to our excitation, to his excitation, to the room's atmosphere. Our tongue extends, stretching as we give his face a thorough lick. The skin is soft, and tasty, covered with sweat.

“What… Is that?" he asks, surprised, while a fourth finger slips inside, his eyes on our tongue.

“You taste good."

“I taste good? What's that? You… You're not planning to eat me, are you?"

Stupid question from a Human.

“You are not our Prey anymore. Jake."

“That's great? Thanks? I think?"

“But you will feed us."

Our tongue swirls and descends, collecting the bead of sweat over his forehead, then goes over his nose. His eyes focus on it as it descends, descends… And reaches the nose tip before it drops against his lips. At first, he resists. But our tongue dances from left to right, probing the lips until there's that tiny crack against which we press, force, and slip. His lips open up, unable to resist while we fight against the teeth. In the same way, they offer a barrier, but through pushing and slipping, we pry it open and… Here. A kiss.

His expression was concerned, but with us kissing him, he seems to relax and ease. Even his fingers, stuck and paused, suddenly come back to action. They circle, they dance, they caress our insides with so much focus we cannot stop our voice, our growls, our sighs.

“This is good… But we want more."

More. We can whisper, sigh, and enjoy… But it is not enough for us, there is something we need to do. To try.

His… cock.

His monster of a cock that has been pressing against our thighs. We feel it throb. We smell it spurt all over the sheets beneath us. It is vibrant with life, with heat, with blood. And we Hunger for it.

“Pull your fingers out!" we order, our tongue still within his mouth. Its slithering deeper seems to surprise and please him as his moans grow deeper and faster. His eyes are rolling, but he doesn't try to bite us off. More than that, he complies.

His fingers slip out, and our body relaxes. No… Our body tenses as we feel the air rushing to our asshole as it gapes and yearns. The air is cold; our flesh feels cold. Cold enough for us to grunt and reach for it, feeling how the orifice is tender, supple, and slightly wet from our sweat and fluids. It is… Warm. It irradiates with heat in a contradictory sensation. When we push on it, we feel it fight back. But… Not enough.

“Jake!"

“Hmprh?" answers the Human, his mouth gagged.

“We will ride your dick!"

His eyes widen in surprise. But he should not. He knows how big he is. We know it well, and as we extend a finger against his cock, we feel it hard, dripping, sticky. Perfectly lubed for us. He shakes his head, but we know he wants it. We want it, too.

“Prepare yourself!" we shout, smiling despite our tongue still out.

He's shaking his head as we shift our hips and move our legs, adjusting our posture and angle. We lean forward, too, getting closer as our breath is upon him. He frowns a bit, but with what remains of our tongue, free and flailing, we stroke his chin and… We are gentle enough to let him hold our ass. He is lucky to have such a dick, one whose massive tip presses between our cheeks. And he is lucky he smells so good. Is so good.

“We will be gentle."

His eyes widen as he watches us with our ass rubbing against the tip. He must feel it like us: the union of our flesh, the soft rim against his cocktip. He must sense the sphincter open and close slightly, just like how humans are doing those soft kisses.

He groans despite our tongue playing with his mouth. His hands dig further into our ass. He is probably too excited to act correctly. But this is fine.

This is perfectly fine. We can do it without him, we studied for it, too. We know the Humans mating rituals.

His dick is at our entrance, and we let our hole relax. It opens and gapes, letting the cold air rush to our insides and… Then, his cocktip is right at our entrance. It… It nudges. It advances a bit before Jake moves and shakes his hips. Poorly, too, since his cock is yanked away from our hole.

“Let us do that for you, Jake."

More muffled moans. He must not understand we are good at this. Very good since we studied for this. We smile and grip his cock to make sure it points in the right direction. To make sure we can feel it at our hole, tapping against our sphincter. We feel it spurt all on it, spitting that tasteful precum all over our asshole, and we can taste it. We can taste it, almost. Almost savor it as it sprays over our hole as it widens and widens. We relax, we force it to relax, to open up. Less than a third of an inch in diameter and… We feel it.

The rushing air is here, but so is the cock as we guide it through. It bumps inside. The sensation is strange, but we continue to feed that mast inside while we lower our hips. His body tenses, so does ours. We… We drool and tremble, feeling its presence as we close our rim on it, holding it inside and firmly.

“Hrmph!"

“We are gentle, Jake!"

Yes, we are so gentle, he should thank us. He should thank us for letting him use our hole. For allowing his cock deep inside us as we lower our hips. Just three inches and our body tenses, our entire world… We feel it, that wide and enormous organ squeezing against our tenderized spot. It is good… It feels extremely good as it throbs. It is throbbing inside us and tensing, spewing more precum that warms our guts.

“This! We needed this!" we shout.

We howl even. This is what will satisfy our needs and hunger. Eating humans was stupid, so stupid. We could have found one with a big dick before, and it would have solved our problem. It would have solved everything as we feel that rush of endorphins and drugs right in our brain, feeding us, frying our senses. We have been craving for this for so long, but we can… We can live with this.

“Hrmphh!"

“Jake… You gave us the best thing from that world. Thank you!"

It is true. We roll our hips, enjoying the pressure against our prostate and our insides. We are feeling full and fulfilled, our guts swaying and shifting to adopt the form of that dick rubbing inside. We shift our stomach, extend our intestines, soften them. In return, we feel the pleasure as we add small nubs to the flesh walls, sensitive, and adding more textures to it. Slowly, we lift ourselves as we let Jake rest for a moment, letting him recover from his last muffled cry. Our tongue samples his saliva, absorbs it so he doesn't drown and let him breathe. We even play with his tongue, just like we read and watched.

All the while, we continue to change. To change so we can have the most pleasurable hole and the most sensitive one. Our prostate… Yes, we need it more sensitive and bigger, too. It will make us cum more, it will be better.

Our rim… It is big, but we need it bigger. It has to be perkier and capable of gripping. We need it to go slightly outside, to form… Yes. That shape. That shape like a donuthole. A tasty donuthole everyone would want to try out.

Inside… We need more spots like the prostate. Maybe… Maybe more nodules, little spots capable of holding onto the cock. Yes, we add them. We add more muscles. Everything has to please him.

Jake's eyes widen as we finally cut the kiss, retracting our tongue from his mouth he opens and closes, bringing even a hand to his throat.

“Don't… Don't break my dick."

“Is that possible?"

We ask, and yet, we lower our hips. We smack them down, smack our nuts on his belly, and allow him to feel all the changes as we force the cock deep inside. He grunts, he clenches his teeth, his eyes roll. He must like it.

He must like the grip around the shaft, pulling on the foreskin while he slips inside. He must enjoy the nodules pressing against his length and poking at it. No, he's crying and shouting, and smiling as our orifice clenches upon him, holding him tightly. Every vein, every wrinkle, every spot experiences our touch, our attention, our focus. Whenever we feel his dick dig deeper, we release the spot and tug onto the skin from a different spot.

Our muscles close, forming air-tight rings while the nodules pop in and out, touching and massaging him. And… We descend. Another inch after another inch. Descending as our nuts land and rest on his belly, as our ass is almost touching and sitting on his lap. And finally, we land… His dick is thoroughly held, it cannot move even as it throbs. But each one is sending a tremor through our body as that mast rests against our prostate, the nodules. Each one is like a tiny light in our body, suddenly sparking with life and desire.

“It is good, Jake. You have a good dick!" we chuckle as we suddenly lift, and he cries.

He cries again as we descend, feeling more hormones rush our brain, bringing us pleasure. Joy even. Enough for us to smile. Yes, we smile. Our lips hurt from smiling so much, splitting our skin. But why would we not smile when we have such reward, such pleasure? Our cock spurts on Jake's belly, coating it in black precum as it thickens. Thickens much like the white precum pushing deep inside us, instantly to be absorbed and taken in. It is a meal, a wondrous meal with the smell and the aroma of his precum. One we appreciate as he keeps pumping more, his urethra spraying and coating our guts.

“Yes! Feed us!"

“m-Much!" gargles back Jake.

He gargles and drools all over himself, all over his bedding. His hands grip our ass with renewed strength, his nails dig into our skin. And slowly… His arms tense, lifting us, attempting to lift us. But he is too weak, not capable enough. Only we can lift our weight, can push with our legs to lift everything we are... and for our asshole to release his grip.

Only us can dictate the pace. And we say it's fast.

Fast! Brutal! Intense! Just like how humans breed!

We push down, smacking down our plump ass onto his lap, hearing him huff, scoff, groan. His voice, he is not talking anymore. He is only a mess that doesn't dare to move more than one inch as we move. As we push. As we smack.

We roll our hips, ensuring he feels every little spot we have to offer, even if he's gasping like a fish out of water. It is not important, we have our Hunger. That Hunger for pleasure, for orgasms, for his cum. One we will eagerly milk out of him as we accelerate, our smacking hips becoming closer to a hammering.

The bed creaks beneath us, we even hear cries from the outside or at the door. Prey are trying to get in, to silence us, to silence Jake. But it does not matter as we are bouncing, feeling our prostate spark with life and energy… And beyond that, we feel Jake's tremors under us grow more intense. His breathing is a whistle, his face red, his chest barely lifts as our cock covers it in black until… Until we feel it. The sensation we are craving for, that rush that's hitting our brain… We… Feel it.

“We… Are! SATISFIED!"

We roar as we… Cum. Ejaculate. As our prostate clenches under another hit from Jake's cock.

Cum flies across the air, sticky and gray, like webbing. It flies and lands everywhere. Ceiling, bedframe, bed, Jake's face, Jake's torso. Even the cushions are marked as we cum, and our orifice tightly holds onto him as he, too, cum.

He cums and instantly, we feel his hot, pipping hot, semen hit our guts. We eat, absorb it. Instantly, we feel better as his cock feeds us with more nutrients, adding more to what we got from our orgasm. We… Are not Hungry. No, we are replete, even.

His cum is pushing through, white and flooding everything, even pushing higher than his pole did. A pole we can still feel hard through our abs as we touch them… But… Somehow, they feel softer.

“Hrmph… That was a good meal. You can stop, Jake." we say. Yet, we feel the flow doesn't stop. His hips bounce vainly, his cock unable to move away from our tight hole as it keeps every drop inside, our food. His testicles keep clenching, and the smell of sex still fills the room.

And then, he gasps.

He gasps again as another shot pushes through, adding more… More than we can eat in one single meal. Never before it has happened. Never before have we fed so much we feel the need to refuse it.

And yet, it is happening. We feel our abdominal muscles slowly disappear, softened by the presence beneath. There more than three liters, it should be impossible for a human. And yet, we continue to be stuffed as our belly expands and grows.

We even change our guts to create little pockets, little storage to add the cum there. But it's not enough to stop the flow Jake keeps pumping in us. And even then… If we continue, if we let him, we can… We won't eat for the next few days.

“Hrmph… Fine! Keep pumping! Stuff me, Jake!" we shout, but we don't think he hears us.

He is not even holding our ass, as if we don't matter.

No, he doesn't move at all while he keeps pushing and pumping more cum inside us. Our belly is swollen, so swollen we look like those humans bearing their spawns with their round bellies and tits. Our skin is taut, tense… We look like a balloon. And it is only then he stops.

Only then does Jake's ejaculation stop, and he freezes, stopping with the same expression of complete stupidity. His eyes are on the ceiling, his breath short while we try to pull out without wasting a drop.

“That was… Genial."

“Urf. We won't need another meal for… A few days!" we grunt, lifting our ass away… Only to freeze when he smacks our cheeks and laughs.

“Stupid Jake."

---

Jake's place reeks of sex. It was true the first time we came here, the second time, and the third. Even now, it still reeks of sex and cum, but it is fine. It is fine as our tongue is dancing on his cock, massaging and milking it.

Under our touch, we feel the tremor shaking his body and watch how he fights on his controller so he doesn't let it slip. He grips it hard, tries to keep his cool as the car in the television is swerving right. His thumb trembles, and we… Flick his cocktip. Instantly, he roars and cries as more precum pushes out from his cock right into our mouth.

“Tasty!"

“FUCK!" shouts back Jake, hitting the back of our head, making us hiss. “I lost because of you!"

“Not our problem!" we reply back, giving him another lick. “You did not feed us today!"

“Because I was at work, and you were gone! And… Who did you fuck this time?"

“A guy who lives in the nearby street."

“A hobo? Again?"

“We were hungry!"

“You could have waited for me!" says Jake, pointing a finger at us. Again.

“You were not there! And you told us we could not bother you at work!"

He looks, frowns, huffs, then his finger drops. We win the argument, as usual. He cannot fathom our intelligence.

“You win this time," he grumbles, returning to his game while we suck more cum out of his cock. The taste is always so good. Even better than the homeless or Mister Wilkins in the nearest place. It is more nutritive, too. “So… How was it?"

We chuckle, giving the cockhead another lick before we jump on our feet and reach for his controller to take it off his hand.

“Hey!"

“Let us do that, we are better."

This is true. This simulation, that video game, is easy. With only one hand and a few tendrils, we can play it without looking while keeping Jake pressed on the couch, his genitals out. It is still a bit early, his second shift will start in a few hours. So it still counts for us as we nudge closer and squat above him, our posterior right by his face. Just the way he likes. And he licks, sampling whatever droplets of cum remains from our last meal.

He huffs, puffs, growls. But his hands are on our cheeks, prying them apart to uncover our butthole. For the homeless, we made it tense and soft. A bit too innocent compared to the glazed donut he loves. Still, his thumbs rush to it, open up the hole, and begin playing with it.

“You didn't answer," he says.

Well, the videogame is harder than we thought. The cars are the same as usual, but there's something. Strange names on the screen.

“Are they people? Humans?" we ask, surprised. Still, we keep playing as we're almost thrown on the sidelines.

“Hmm, hmm," confirms Jake, his tongue collecting whatever droplets come from our ass. His two hands are happily massaging and squeezing our cheeks, the fingers scrapping our soft flesh while his tongue dances and explores our rim. It teases right, then left, then right again, poking at it while our muscles relax and ease. “You're avoiding the subject."

“We are not!" we answer, frowning as we compete with the other drivers. They're talented, too talented for what they're doing. And Jake's tongue…

With a grunt, we reach for his head and shove it in between, forcing him to worship, to have his nose right by our asshole while his lips are almost sucking that rim that fattens by the second. He prefers it wide, he prefers it perky, he prefers it wrinkled and exposed. Not the kind most humans would dig in.

“Fine. It was Stan," we answer, our hand turning right, the car swerving to avoid another collision.

“Wai-" grumbles Jake, our hand keeping him pressed while his tongue goes inside and deeper. To coax him, we even grab his tongue a little, using our muscles to guide him towards our sensitive spot. But no, he fights against it, even tries to yank it out. “Wait… Stan?"

“Stan. We gave him a beer, talked… Gave him a big dick, and we fucked."

“… You put everything back to normal?"

We… We offered the beer like Jake said it as a gesture. We were gentle, told Stan we were only here for a quick fuck. He accepted… We used our suit to increase his dick and prostate size. We rode him four times until he asked us to stop and…

“No?"

Still, we push Jake closer so he can sample the homeless' cum pouring from our asshole. So much cum… Even now, our guts are still bloated and heavy. Our belly is rounder and taut, the black flesh outstretched and slightly pulling on our shape. But we don't need a fit body like before, we don't have to hunt and move nimbly when we have our cum source nearby. The same that's happily guzzling everything we offer down, his fingers squeezing and massaging our cheeks. No… Pushing against them until his head pops free, and he gasps for air.

“Fuck!"

“Too rough for you, Jake?" we laugh.

“Damn bastard."

We hear him huff and still swallow down the semen while he keeps the distance… And finally smacks our ass, on the right cheek. Once, twice. Our rim tense from the assault, our legs cramp a little, but we remain up and still as we look above our shoulder.

“Fine. When it's my shift, you'll help Stan. I don't want to hear about another guy sent to hospital for an erection."

“Huh. You're not fun! Stan thanked us for the dick!"

“And he'll regret it once he'll be dehydrated," Jake growls back. But it's true; humans are easily dehydrated if they cum too much. So… We extend a tentacle to grab one of the nearby water bottles we offer to Jake, smiling at him.

“… You're… uh. That's fine. I'm not thirsty at the moment," he answers.

“But you'll be when we ride you. Drink!"

“… Fine."

Glancing at us, he still drinks. He looks us in the eyes, chugging down the entire bottle before he throws it away, the plastic bouncing off the floor while in the background, we hear something crashing and breaking down… Probably that stupid game with those humans that are too good at this.

“Are you happy?"

“Yes! Now, you are hydrated, and we can fuck!"

“For fuck's sake. Can you give it a rest ten minutes?" Jake asks, rolling his eyes. He might say it like he doesn't love our ass or fucking us. But his boner, after the little ass-makeout session, is there, poking at our thighs while we're still squatting. And his breath remains on our butthole, stroking our gaping and slightly winking cunt.

“No. And you love it… Especially when we do this!"

One tendril reaching for the controller to set it aside, we grab our ass with both hands, going as far as leaning forward. Our body tenses… But so does Jake as he watches our claws dig in our butt to spread it so far it's impossible not to see our donuthole. Black as night, wrinkled, gaping, open. The rim is slightly shining, polished even. Droplets of cum and natural lubricant pour from it over our taint and then testicles. More than that, with each spasm we do, it opens and closes, releasing a little slurping sound.

The textures are not there, but soon enough, we'll add all the ribbings he loves to feel when he's pushing inside our cunt. And he inhales, taking in that smell. He even outstretchs a hand to touch our hole, but we smack that one.

“No! No hands! No tongue! Only dick!"

“Ouch! Seriously? You like it as much as I do when I lick it. Let me lick it!"

“No! Only dicks! Only the biggest dick around!"

“No… Wait… Are you asking me for… That?"

“Yes! This time, we won't forget! We'll put it back, like normal!"

“Promise?"

“… On our cunt!"

“Fine. But quickly. I'll have to go in two hours."

We laugh, even growl in satisfaction. Jake is almost the biggest man we've seen. But his cock could be more. It could be bigger. And while our hands are still on our ass, shaking it and shoving it to his face…. We approach our face near his groin. Our flesh, our suit, slowly oozes and drips on his genitals we cover. Slowly, the black skin creeps over his groin, his nuts… His cock. Even that big dick is easily covered by us, gaining that perfect color that's ours. Our skin. Our flesh. His cock is our cock.

We feel the throb inside as it reaches upward, the blood pumped inside, the tension within. But more than that, we know it can be… Bigger! Much bigger!

“Hey… Don't overdo it. I don't want to fall flat!"

“Nonsense!"

It's stupid. He is stupid. Of course, we are not overdoing it. We are doing it the way we want AND need. We are diligent in making the experience the best for us both. Which means us burrowing into his prostate and genitals just like before. It is familiar, the perfect place to burrow and outstretch, exploring his depths and ensuring everything works fine. Prostate swelling like it should? Check. Balls producing more tasty semen? Check. Bigger cock? Check.

“Flipping switches is easy."

“What's that?"

“Something we heard," we answer. It might have been on the television while we waited for him. Still, we keep leading his body to grow and become better. Already is his cock gaining width and length. The head is already wider and bigger. And the smell coming from him is more intense since we found a way to increase the glands' potency on his skin. It is a perfect change to find a mate. But he won't accept it.

“Hey, could we ke-"

“No."

No. We grumble but still focus, watching his cock gain another inch, then two… Of course, we add mass, and slowly, we feel our belly soften as more cum is consumed and added to his cock. Soon, the gnawing Hunger will be back even after Stan's big loads. But it's fine. Jake is bigger, Jake can fill us better.

“He-Hey. That's enough. You're overdoing it! Stop! Stop it! Venom!"

“Fiiiine!"

We growl but relent, letting the growth stop and halt. He is at two feet in length, his cock majestic. But still, he looks at it with a grimace, then at us. He doesn't understand what's true art. And that cock is art.

“You'll remove it once we're done."

“Fine!"

Our hands go over his testicles, feeling them heavy and churning with cum. We added a pouch to store more fluids and more muscles while reinforcing the structure. And the prostate is just perfect, fixed to shoot everything like a canon.

“But we worked well. Your cock is perfect!"

“You always say that, but always add something more."

Philistine.

We huff, puff… And now, with that pole right by our side, we remove the hands from our cheeks to stroke it, to caress it while we straighten, go on our feet. The sofa creaks, and somewhere, someone is knocking at the door to get the racket to stop.

We huff, and we smell that cock reeking of human musk. Truly something different than anything we have felt or experienced on that planet. Something that needs to be honored and treated with respect as we approach our tongue to the tip to give it a tender lick… And another when precum manages to spurt out from the cock through many contractions going from the inside of Jake's prostate and along the muscles we added to the cock.

“Fu… Fuck. You… Made it feel better. Fuck… I won't last long, Venom."

“That's good. We removed your refractory period!"

“You did what?"

We chuckle as we are fully up, and then, our tendrils reach for the ceiling to secure us. We go on one foot, and then… Without even listening to Jake's constant nagging, we press that cock against our donuthole. The flesh expands, opening more than ever before. There's also a tingling from the rim, but it's fine. Over the last weeks, we have entirely readjusted our organs to make place for more cock, more cum.

Even when that cock splits our cheeks apart and presses against our pelvis, it's fine. Our waist is perfectly adapted and despite the twinge, the slight stinging, we can take it. And we take it.

We take it as we push down, feeling the cockhead be swallowed and already rubbed against the sensitive nodules. This time, they are smaller but way more. And their presences, massaging Jake's cock, are enough to steal a moan from our Cum source.

His cock contracts, his prostate contracts, even his scrotum follows. And already, there is a shot of cum hitting our inside, instantly to be absorbed.

“Fu-Fuuuuck. I… Can't…"

“Keep feeding us! We want more! We want our belly big with your cum!"

We feel his cum shoot higher and hit our guts, spraying them white before we absorb them. And still, even with that, we continue. We continue to descend while his cock starts to poke underneath our flesh and skin, above our prostate and bladder. We continue as the nodules keep flaring with intensity as much as our prostate, sending that unctuous mix of hormones flaring in our brain, adding to the nutrients we swallow. Hunting has never come as close as this. As cumming, as jolting, as climaxing from getting our organs crushed from within.

Our body trembles as another shot goes through our spine to our brain, making us salivate and yearn for more as his cock is only a third inside… And our belly is already stretched beyond what we got from Stan.

Truly, Jake is a whole different type, and we are lucky. So lucky to have found a willing Human to feed us. Even if he is stupid, he is fighting us, or even forcing us to be discreet. The other tenants in the building don't matter, except mister Wilkins. But even then, he doesn't fight in the same league as Jake.

His cock? It's tiny and small compared to the one stretching our donuthole so wide it has thinned to a small ring around the length. His balls? Well, he might produce a lot. But nothing like Jake, whose second ejaculation has already started to pile on our guts. We can barely absorb it, and yet, our favorite Human is adding a third.

Beneath, he trembles and squirms. His legs tense and kick the air. We even hear him weakly complain about drinking or being in pain. Yet, his cock throbs and shoots. His body tense and yet, the highlights are the ejaculation hitting our guts and marking them, branding them, searing them. Nothing else shall pass through our hole, but humans' cocks. And we love it. Every second of it. We continue to lower, hanging from the tendrils attached to the ceiling, angling everything with our hands on the sofa. We lower ourselves, impaling ourselves with our legs spread while the length progresses higher and higher.

Our belly is no longer flat or fat, not at all. Instead, we can feel the augmented shaft throbbing beneath our flesh. It needs, it calls us. And we answer by massaging it, stroking it from underneath, and adding more nodules… No, more.

We need more. We use our tendrils inside us to stroke him, to grip the length on different spots and stroke him, like a swarm of hands reaching for and stroking his cock. Much to his apparent pleasure and his displeased grunts as he keeps cumming, again… And again.

“Venom… Fuck, this… Too much!" he screams, yet he cums.

He cums, and as our ass rest on his groin, rubbing against his hairy bushes, we lean back… And lay on him.

“No. It's perfect!" we purr, satisfied. Being stuffed like this? It's perfect. Our cunt, our ass, aches from being so outstretched, and each throb sends a tremor through our prostate and nodules, through us. It is an addition, a multiplication of what we are.

We are Venom, and we are Jake's cocksleeve. Within, we massage and please him, offer him pleasure no one else could give him to him, even many. Nobody can increase his sensations like we do by modifying his body… Or even give him such motor control to ejaculate, even if he's wasting our work.

We are artists, talented artists in making the best of what humans are.

“You… Should stay like this!"

“I- need to work-fuuuck!" moans Jake. Another shot, and our organs are starting to be bloated, our belly starting to smoothen, and so does his cock impression underneath. We are no longer hungry. In fact, it has been days since we felt the hunger.

His semen is everything we need… Even another human's semen is good enough now. Maybe it was only a moment to adapt so we could get accustomed to that diet.

But why bother changing it now when we have a willing human who can accept to grow a two-feet cock just to please, to wreck our body, to make sure we are satisfied?

No… We won't change anything. And we purr. We purr in satisfaction as our hands go over our belly, massaging it. Already, the cum is pouring in and erasing everything. We poke at it with our claws while Jake keeps pumping more, his cock clenching, and so do his balls. His voice has turned into a stupid howl and the banging at the door is more intense with our cries.

But again, does it matter when we are so pleased?

Pleased enough to even feel our orgasm rising and about to burst, to sense our cock bouncing and pushing against our swollen and cum-ridden belly? Our prostate is still assaulted by the throbbing presence against it. More than that, Jake's hands are gripping our meaty cheeks, massaging and using them to rub against his groin.

“WILL YOU STOP THIS RUCKUS?" shouts a voice. But no, we keep moaning as we cum. We cum a white sludge on the ground, covering the control and coffee table as we recline further, feeling Jake's breath pressed against our back.

Again… He shoots, surely forgetting about his work amidst the constant orgasms shaking him. We are supposed to do something else, too. About fixing something back. But it does not matter.

What matters is what we are enjoying. Our ejaculation. The semen is sloshing inside us as we look so big we are almost like a pregnant human. And yet, there's more. More as we feel our food backing in our esophagus. We feel it drop and dribble as we cough and breathe.

We are almost bursting, so full… Too full. It will spill on the other side. But it is... just… What we need.

We need. We need it. We need him.