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Oglun - Gena's Legacy

By Rix Writes

Gena sighed and drew in a deep breath of the dusty air. It was all over for her and her brother; the quiet farm on the far edge of settled space was going to fail. Their parents had built the place from nothing, capitalizing on the milking of livestock infested and impregnated by a local creature. For twenty-five years they had maintained it as one of the few farms that specialized in a highly nutritious honey-like 'milk', but it was all over now.

The livestock was all gone, taken by a fungal infection that had spread like wildfire, tainting the product and eventually killing off the livestock. Neither her nor her brother had been able to find a solution before it was too late. "Sorry, mom... sorry dad... we tried..." she whispered as she stood over the two markers underneath the tree she'd played in for most of her childhood. "Darik is out trying to get new stock, but Oris is going to burst before he gets back."

A low, frustrated grunting came from the nearby paddock, where the family's oglun, Oris, was pacing back and forth. In the wild they were known to be dangerous and aggressive carnivores, which was the reason it was so rare to find one domesticated like Oris had been. It had taken six tries with other oglun before Gena's father had found success. Within a year, he'd secured twenty-four goats to serve as Oris' breeders. The family had known prosperity and a comfortable life, the idyllic existence only coming to an end three years back when bandits with more bravado than sense had tried to rob them. Gena and Darik had taken their mother's dying words to heart. There had been no hesitation; they'd taken over the farm and continued their parents' work.

Gena stepped over toward the paddock and leaned over the railing to watch Oris pace back and forth, his whole demeanour speaking of frustration. The oglun was typical of his species; hairless and covered in pinkish flesh so pale it was nearly cream-coloured. His oblong body was bulky and wide, with a long ridge of strange brown feather-like protrusions emerging from his spine from just behind his skull all the way down to his hind end. He stomped all over the paddock on four muscular legs that ended in wicked-looking claws, impatiently tearing up the dirt beneath. Even as she watched, his short tail, tipped by two small chitinous pincers that could deliver a powerful and potent neurotoxin, twitched and bobbed. With the way his long, frilled ears swivelled and twitched, Gena could practically feel the oglun's frustration.

Looking at Oris' belly, Gena sighed. The normally pale pink flesh there was stretched and flushed a deep red. The huge ovipostor that he would use to lay eggs in his 'mates' was hanging free now, the tip constantly dribbling a pinkish fluid. Oris had been in rut for almost two weeks now, and if he didn't have a female to lay in before the week was done, his eggsac would burst and he'd either die or sterilize himself, and then the farm really would be finished. They had two other barely-domesticated oglun in the barn, Oris' own get, that hadn't reached maturity yet, but by the time that happened, again, it would be far too late.

Oglun that reached sexual maturity would go into rut three times a year, producing eggs that they would need to lay in a living incubator or their eggsacs would overflow and burst. It had been Gena and Darik's terrible luck that the blight that had killed all the goats struck just as Oris had started his rut and burned through them all before he had been able to lay.

That morning, Darik had gotten on the supply shuttle that usually took away their recent harvest of oglun-bred milk, intent on making a personal appeal to ranchers on the next nearest outpost to sell him some of their own livestock. It was going to be all for naught; the trip would take at least four days one way. By the time he returned, she and Darik would be destined to become just two more penniless red foxes eking out bare subsistence on a planet that had not yet become part of the 'civilized' galaxy.

With another heavy sigh, Gena murmured softly, "I'm sorry, Oris... I really am." To her surprise, he began to thunder over toward her. Normally when in rut he wanted nothing to do with anything but his breeding stock. As he came over, his horizontal beak opened and he let out a low, forlorn squawk that spoke volumes to his frustration. "Yeah, I know. I know boy. I promise. Before you burst, I'll spare you the pain. Least I could do."

Oris leaned forward, his eyes locked on her. Somehow, despite the lack of horns or any neck, the bulky creature managed to look almost goat-like. It was said that oglun tended to take on the traits of their breeding stock even while that same stock were irrevocably changed by the eggs laid within them. Find an oglun that had breeding stock comprised mostly of cows, they had more bovine features and colouring. If the stock was goats, well, the oglun would start to look more like a goat. It was the reason oglun all across the planet were so diverse in appearance while retaining the same predatory and reproductive nature.

When Gena patted Oris' cheek, his multitudinous 'tongues' spilled out and curled around her wrist. "Oh stop it. You got fed today. But... I guess it wouldn't hurt, would it. Give you a really nice last meal. I wish you had someone to lay your brood in. Would be just enough, wouldn't it. Relieve you enough for Darik to get back."

It was then that a thought crept into her mind, insidious and damning. There was one place that Oris could lay. One potential breeder that the oglun could make use of. Just the idea of it made her stomach churn, and she jerked her hand away from Oris and began to run. It was a foolish thing for her to do, running and acting like prey, but thankfully the oglun's training held and he didn't leap on her to try and feast on her... or worse.

***

Later that night, as she lay in bed, Gena couldn't get the intrusive mental image of herself in one of the goat's stalls. Her bare skin glistening with a slick and slippery sweat, her fur long fallen out. Her skin discoloured and covered in veiny streaks. Her breasts engorged and swollen, leaking a thick pink slime instead of normal milk. Her belly distended with Oris' get, little squirming things in constant motion. Her tongue lolling out, thick and engorged, dripping with the same substance leaking from her nipples. The same stuff dripping out of her ruined vagina and anus. Her arms and legs gone skinny and useless, sealed to the floor of the stall by the oglun.

She could do it. If she did, the deed would be done before anyone could stop her. As far as she knew, there was no way to recover from what the breeding would do to her. Some few colonists had been caught by oglun and packed full of eggs. None of them had been the same since. But she could do it all the same, and it would be enough time for Darik to come back with more breeding stock. By then he'd be able to hook her up to the milking machines.

The farm was her life, something she was proud of. It was a place of freedom that wasn't under the thumb of one of the Six, major intergalactic societies that ranged from the authoritarian Barzanth Collective to the benevolent Yahaelan monarchy. All she would have to do was make a sacrifice for it, and her parents legacy would continue, with Darik caring for her. She just had to ask herself... could she do that? Let Oris breed her, fill her with his eggs? Let herself become a helpless, twisted incubator for the farm, so that Darik could keep it alive?

She closed her eyes and knew the answer within moments. She booted up the old computer that sat in the corner of her room on an old wooden desk that had been in the family for generations, almost as long as the computer. They hadn't had enough money for a proper connection to the larger QuantNet, so interspatial communication had to be sent in bursts. Usually the wait would be a problem, but in this, she knew, the delay in a message getting to Darik would serve her purpose well. Turning on the camera, she looked into it and began to record her message.

"Darik, I know you took your trip to Arianus IV when you knew it was hopeless. There was the hope that maybe, just maybe Oris wouldn't burst before you got back with new stock. It's not going to happen. If he doesn't lay within the next day at most, we'll lose him.

By the time you get this, the deed will be done. There's nothing that says I can't. And we both said we'd do anything to make this farm work. So... I'm going to let Oris claim me. I know what it means. I'm not stupid. I lay down in one of those stalls, I'm not going to leave it. But this family will endure. We will _ own _ this place long after you and I are gone. I love you, brother. Find yourself a wife and fill the house with little kits. You're the last.

Remember... anything it takes."

She sent the message to the delivery service. In about six hours, the communications burst would be sent, and in a couple more, Darik would get the message. It would be in just enough time to keep him from taking the first livestock he could get his hands on. She stood up and slowly undressed, her hands trembling. She took a few moments to look at herself in the mirror, the last time she'd ever look like this.

She wasn't remarkable for any sort of red fox, and a bit too slender. So many others on the nicer worlds had money to distinguish themselves, from simple fur dyes and brandings all the way to full on protean manipulation. But she'd never thought to change what she had, even if they'd had the money to do so. That would change quite soon, if she actually went through with this. When she went through with it.

She tried to imagine what she'd look like without any fur, a sheen of thin slime coating her from head to toe, glassy and pink-clouded eyes staring at nothing. To her surprise, she felt a warmth in her loins at the idea. Taking a breath to steady herself, she walked out of her room and the house that her parents had built, headed for the barn.

The walk was a short one, and it was certainly strange walking in the open air in nothing but her fur, something Gena hadn't done in years. She stared at the now empty stalls that had held the goats. Oris was already there, and somewhere in those strange red eyes of his, there was some sort of understanding that she could see. He was looking at her as she approached one of the stalls, no longer pacing or even moving. "You know, don't you, boy?" she murmured, trying to summon the courage it would take to step into the stall. "You know what I'm gonna do. You want it." Oris would know what to do, what was meant for him to do. When she and Darik had gotten a new half-dozen goats and set them in one of the prepared stalls, he'd not hesitated in claiming them.

Gena smiled wanly at Oris, "yeah, you know. Just... give me a moment." She shuddered as she stared at the plasteel floor that covered the stall. In her mind's eye she saw herself there with glazed, filmy eyes, furless and helpless, breasts engorged and pink-veined, the milking machines attached to them. She didn't want to do it, but she would do anything to ensure that the farm would continue, even this. Darik would find a wife and have children, and the family would stay here.

Oris was suddenly there, right up against the fencing beside the stall gate, letting out a strange trill that he had always given for the goats he was about to breed. That it was directed at her made Gena's stomach clench and her white-tipped tail curl between her legs. It was clear to her that the oglun knew what she intended, and he butted his head up against her arm as she entered the code to unlatch the gate and stepped in.

To her surprise, Oris didn't immediately pounce, though she could see that his belly was flushed with even more pink. He actually stepped back from her, trotting to the edge of the stall and waiting expectantly. "We really did train you well, didn't we, Oris..." she whispered. He'd learned to not pounce until given permission after he'd grievously injured one of the goats. Still, the oglun was obviously distressed and desperate for a place to lay a clutch of eggs, and it was a testament to the training that he hadn't yet gone for her.

For one brief moment, Gena wondered what Oris would do if she didn't go through with it? But of course, she wasn't going to do that, and, with her arms and legs shaking, she lay on her back in the stall and spread her legs. From between her knees she could see the oglun watching her. His ovipostor hung free as it had since he'd started his rut, and it looked tender and bloated. "Oris," she croaked, and the oglun stiffened, waiting for the command they'd ingrained into him. "Oris, claim."

With that one single word, Oris knew he had permission, and he pounced. Gena had seen him make that motion, the powerful legs lifting him in the air and bringing him down on top of prey. His heavy, clawed forelegs slammed down onto the concrete flooring beside her, the sharp claws gouging the surface deeply as they pinned Gena's to her side. His hind legs came down only half a second later. Despite herself, she screamed as she looked into Oris' utterly alien visage. The mass of tentacles that were his tongues and more spilled out from that horizontally-aligned beak and smeared her face all over.

There was a sudden pinch and fiery pain in her thigh, and Gena cried out again, though it was muffled by the mass. He'd stung her with his tail, maybe in response to her scream, maybe because it was simply part of claiming a new incubator for his brood. The neurotoxin spread, making her muscles feel weak and unresponsive, and as it moved up her leg and reached her labia she groaned. It had an effect on her there that she'd not known about; every one of the goats they'd given Oris before had been in season. Warmth and wetness grew in her loins, an itchy need spreading there, her body reacting to the toxin the way she'd usually need to spend an hour of private play to reach.

She would have cried out again, moaned, but even as the neurotoxin made her clenched fists relax and her breathing to grow shallow, she felt Oris' tongues pressing at and then slithering between her lips. It was like a mass of creeping, wriggling worms were trying to invade her mouth. She sputtered and gurgled around the writhing tongues, her stomach turning at the taste of the oglun's saliva, which was as unpleasant as the pungent scent hinted.

Gena knew what was coming; she'd watched it happen to the livestock time and time again. Even as one of the slimy tongues shoved itself into her throat and disgorged clumps of pink sludge, she felt a splash of heat against her aching labia and the questing prod of Oris' squirming, prehensile ovipostor. As she began to swallow reflexively, she felt the oglun's ovipostor smearing a slick lubrication all over her inner thighs and mound.

The effect was so fast, she realized as she felt a burning, aching need blooming in her loins, ten times more powerful than what the neurotoxin had sparked within her. Despite knowing what it would do, she found herself wanting to press against Oris' organ, to reach down and guide it. Already there was no going back from her decision, one she'd made freely, but she wasn't sure she would regret it at all. Not if it felt as good as this.

As the mass of thick and heavy sludge filled her stomach, it started to have its own effect on her. From her stomach the mutagenic load within spread into her bloodstream, a feverish heat spreading like fire through her veins. That sensation was a sort of strange counterpoint to the maddening arousal that had her inwardly screaming for Oris to fill her, begging to have something filling her pussy, even if it was the alien creature's twisted organ.

When Oris finally obliged that desire, the tip of his ovipostor finally finding the entrance to her vagina, she could only groan. The oglun's length was bumpy, covered in tiny nubs that seemed to pulse and twitch. The questing tip explored her, prying her open so the thicker shaft could press deeper and deeper into her. Whatever had been in the venom of the oglun's sting had seemingly made her more sensitive to touch, as she felt each and every one of those strange nubs passing into her.

When the tip of Oris' ovipostor hit that deep inner cluster of nerves that she had spent so many days in the past trying to reach, she wanted to scream. The pleasure of having the ovipostor squirming and wriggling as it sought her womb was so intense that she felt like she was going to pass out. She wanted more than anything to press back against Oris and take part in her own corruption, but the most she could do is twitch her arms.

It didn't take long before she felt a sudden pain blossoming within her, and the oglun's ovipostor sank another couple inches into her. A loud, desperate whine pealed from her as the writhing organ finally found what it sought. Oris shuddered and the feather-quills that lined his spine suddenly stood up high and quivered. Gena knew what it meant when the oglun did that, and seconds later, she felt something hard and thick widening her passage as the first of Oris' tennis-ball sized eggs began to force its way inside her. She didn't even consider just how much it would likely hurt to have her cervix forced even wider when the egg found its way even deeper.

Already Gena could feel changes starting in her; the oglun's breeding process had evolved over uncounted generations to completely overwhelm and replace the host's immune system while it made its alterations. Her breasts ached and felt even warmer to her than the rest of her body, the nipples thick and stiff, poking out of her fur. She imagined how she'd look without that luxuriant fur, just bare skin covered in a sheen of slime, and her stomach churned at the thought.

If the squirming of Oris' ovipostor had felt intense enough against that most hard-to-reach spot deep within her, the pressure of the egg inside it was like a lightning bolt, and even as she was forced achingly wide by it, she came. Usually, an orgasm for her was accompanied by the yipping and excited barking that any vulpine would let out in their pleasure, but all she produced was a low groan. She felt her inner walls clenching and squeezing around the hardness within her, massaging the ovipostor rhythmically. Much to her surprise Oris pulled his mass of tongues out of her mouth, still drooling that thick sludge so that it spattered all over her face, and let out a trumpeting sound of triumph.

In the intense pleasure of her climax, Gena forgot to prepare herself for the intensity of having the egg forced past her cervix and into her womb. The throbbing ache that had settled into the muscles of that organ flared to an intense, fiery pain, and she felt a sudden heaviness within her. The first of Oris' eggs was now in her, accompanied by a rush of hot slime. She had no time to get used to that feeling though when she felt the second of Oris' clutch stretching her vagina once more.

She shuddered and twitched, letting out a little low groan. It would be easier, this one, she reasoned, and there was no stopping it any way. This was going to be her entire existence for as long as she lived. Even if her brother found some way to let her out, to bring her free of what Oris was doing to her, she'd never be the same. She'd forever be furless, and she'd need supplements to sustain her own immune system and gut bacteria. Her arms and legs would be weak and break easily. She knew, though, that Darik wouldn't try to stop the process. If it had been him able to do it, he would have, and in her heart she knew that he would ensure her sacrifice hadn't been wasted.

When the second egg mashed that pleasure spot, she felt immediate and sustained ecstatic pleasure suffuse her body even more intense than the first. It was a strange thing, to know full well just what was happening within her body and brain as it was being changed, and to be unable to stop it. Her pleasure centres were being rewritten so that every egg that passed into her brought that same orgasmic bliss. Equal to that would be stimulation of her nipples as they leaked the altered pinkish, slimy milk that her body would produce.

The pain of the second egg being forced into her womb was less intense than the first, and Gena found that she wanted nothing more than to feel one egg after another fill her. The third starting to pry her open made her want to throw her arms and legs up and pull Oris close to her, but she still couldn't lift a muscle.

It was only as the fifth egg lay heavy within Gena that she realized that her tongue was thickening and swelling, and she let her head turn to the side so she wouldn't choke on it. She was feeling confused and exhausted from having a fifth orgasm in such a short time, and her belly was starting to ache as her womb was forced to stretch faster than it had any right to. Oris trumpeted triumphantly with each of his clutch that he laid within this strange new mate he'd claimed for his own, and it was obvious to Gena he intended to fill her with as many as he could. A sixth egg began to pass into her and she let out a low whine. She already felt like she was going to burst, but even the goats they'd had got about a dozen on their first breeding. Somehow, the oglun knew instinctively the point where it was just too much for the body to bear, and none of his 'mates' ever burst. Knowing that, however, didn't stop Gena from fearing that was just what was going to happen.

One after the other, Oris filled the helpless fox with his clutch. The throbbing pain of her swollen and stretched womb was so intense that she barely felt the subsequent orgasms. Just as she began to sob and she started to worry that somehow this would be the one time that Oris pushed a new breeder farther than the body could handle, he shivered and shuddered and just yanked his ovipostor out of her with a sudden, almost savage tug. How many had he given her, Gena wondered. How many of that brood was in her. How many wriggling, squirming bodies would be within her womb, their motion driving her mad? She'd lost count at ten, but it can't have been much more than that.

The feeling of her pussy feeling suddenly empty after so much time filled with Oris' ovipostor, was a strange one. With incredible speed, Oris moved off of her and pressed his beaked head to her mound as if inspecting his work. That mass of tongue-like extrusions pressed into her and seemed to pull her wide so that were someone to see what was happening, she'd be visibly gaping. Other tendrils began to spray a new substance into her, thick and heavy and intensely hot. She whimpered and gasped as the torrent filled that stretched hole and immediately hardened into a thick plug, so that when they finally pulled away, the eggs within her were sealed in by a wrist-thick plug.

Oris didn't waste time at all, and used his beak and claws to press her arms to her sides before spraying more of that glue-like slime. Moment by moment, she was fastened to the floor of the stall by the oglun the same way that he had with all his previous mates. He proved how surprisingly skilled his tongues were at manipulation as her legs were pushed open and wide, her feet sealed to the floor so that she couldn't close them or hide any part of her. When he was finally done, Gena knew that she would never again move from this spot unless extracted.

With one last trumpet of triumph, Oris trotted around Gena, obviously quite proud of himself. Her lips curled into a smile when she saw his egg pouch, no longer looking dangerously stretched with his clutch. He'd produce more, but there would be more than enough time for Darik to return with new breeders for the oglun to claim.

As Oris leaned into nuzzle at her cheek, Gena let out a low whine. Everything below her ribcage was one throbbing, aching mass of fullness and stretching. She could feel the cool air against her stiff nipples, and found it hard to concentrate when Oris probed at them. They weren't yet so sensitive that it hurt, but she gasped at the sensation all the same. Eventually, Oris, with one last enthusiastic trumpet, plodded off to his feeder to feast, and Gena was left in her stall, desperately aroused, aching and wondering how long it would take her to go mad.

***

Time seemed to pass slowly for Gena, though she could at least track it by the rise and fall of the sun. With the deed done, she was able to truly contemplate the magnitude of what she'd done. She knew in the morning that the message would have reached Darik. There was regret there, that she'd likely caused him no small measure of distress with what she'd done, but there was truly no other choice in her mind.

That morning, she felt like her head had been stuffed with cotton, and every single puff of air on her nipples and bared mound made her jerk and twitch helplessly. That oh-so-limited stimulation was like a tease to her, making her want to scream. The unceasing need for stimulation was something unexpected. Squirming and wriggling helplessly, she tried to squeeze on the plug within her, wanting to move it just so she could feel it move, but to no avail.

Oris came to her a few times, force-feeding her more of the foul-tasting sludge that would be her only sustenance for the rest of her life. She knew that each time she was fed, a little bit more corruption would be laid on her, her body digesting and using every bit of it. Eventually, when the changes to her were complete, the oglun would start to use her rear entrance as well, with her body fully repurposed to the production of the nutrient slime that was ostensibly for the brood, and her bowel converted to a second place to lay eggs.

Time lost meaning for her, the brief returns of Oris to inspect her the only way to really track time otherwise. It had to have been at least five days before something new came, but she couldn't be sure. She'd been able to turn her head to see that some of her fur had clumped off, and she felt a strange sort of sadness at it. She'd been proud of her fur in a way, and seeing the raw, corruption-veined flesh beneath was upsetting. Her breasts were aching now as they had started to produce her new, slippery sort of milk.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps. Slow and hesitant. How had she not heard someone approaching? They were right outside the stall, and she'd lost track of paying attention. "Oh my god..." came a hushed, half-terrified voice. Dark's voice. "Oh Gena. Oh my god, you really did it." The sound of the stall door opening came to her, and her brother crouched so she could look at him. He looked strange to her, almost out of focus, and for some reason she couldn't figure out why.

Gena tried to speak, but her fattened tongue didn't seem to want to obey her, just twitching and flopping. The neurotoxin had long since worn off, but it was like entire musculature of her lips and tongue were altered by what had been done. When Darik's hand reached out to touch the almost obscenely huge swell of her belly, she let out a low groan. He touched and stroked her all over, and though she couldn't see it well, wherever he stroked the fur sloughed off of her, revealing fevered pink flesh beneath.

"Oh Gena... Gena..." Darik whispered, his voice choked with emotion. For a moment, Gena felt real fear, not that he'd leave her here, but that he'd try to get her out. That he'd taken as long as he did meant that he'd found new stock, so Oris would have more places to lay his eggs, so she wasn't necessary for Oris anymore. But the rest of her life would be lived entirely crippled and changed. Better for her that she be left to be like all the other livestock, hooked up to the milking machines and used to breed Oris' get. The goats had seemed to love the milking machines, and with how sensitive her nipples were now, she knew it would feel incredible to her.

After a few minutes inspecting his sister, his expression unreadable due to her blurred vision, Darik said three words that told Gena all she needed to know. "Whatever it takes." Those three words, delivered with a choked voice that showed how equally grateful and horrified he was by her sacrifice, filled Gena with relief. She felt her eyes well up with tears when she realized she couldn't even tell him that she loved him, or to thank him.

Darik stood, and she heard a clanking and clatter from the wall of the stall. She turned her head to watch him, and he spoke as he moved. "Won't be more n' a few days, sis, before you can't see much more than blobs, if anything. The film's all over your eyes. I'll come here every day to tell you everything that's happening, I promise. But I know what you want now. It'll make everything feel good. I know it will." He spoke mechanically, as if something was broken inside him.

Try as hard as she might, stuck to the floor of the stall, Gena couldn't figure out what he was talking about, though she knew she should be able to. And then his hand was on her breast, holding it still as something was stretched around it, with a harder tip against her breast. The machine, she realized. Even the hard touch of the tip of the milker on her nipple was almost enough to make her buck and squirm. Having it touched felt like nothing she'd ever experienced before. As Darik did the same to her other breast, he murmured, "got a really good deal, sis. Amazing breeding stock. Not goats this time, but these placid, simple things called kaasht. You'd love them." Finally, when he was done setting her up, he said softly, "You ready, sis?"

Gena didn't have time to respond before there was a hum and the machine started to do to her breasts what it had done to the teats of the goats for years before. In that instant she was transferred from awareness into a constant state of near-orgasmic bliss. There was no importance in her mind, no thoughts at all other than just how good it felt to have her breasts milked by that machine. She heard Darik trying to talk to her, but the words were unimportant now. Her sacrifice had been accepted. That's all that mattered. That, and the pleasure.

Everything about the process would make her depend more and more on Oris. She knew that by the time she was ready to birth Oris' clutch, she'd be lost entirely to her fate. And then she'd start it all over again the next time Oris was ready to fill her with new eggs.

Gena couldn't wait.

It was her reward and her gift to make sure that the land remained Darik's and hers.