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A Quarian in the Family 2

An outing in the wilds? How… Quaint

Rannoch was truly something else.

Outside the crowded urban centers, composed of large cities surrounded by even bigger slums, Rannoch was… Well, it could be beautiful.

Zal had to cover his eyes due to the intense light coming from the sunless sky above. The wind carried the seeds of distant dried-down flowers as well as the dust from the eroding desert further north. However, they were not close to the desert by any stretch.

The Ruma reserve was a place dedicated to the preservation of the native fauna and flora. Its location was along the coast, though the brutal ridges made it practically impossible to access the reserve from the sea except for a few beaches.

Those same ridges were melting into the mesas and tall dusty valleys that formed the perfect ground for most of Rannoch’s fauna. As for the flora, they consisted of bushes, plants, and occasionally, a few growing trees with resilient branches and even more resilient roots.

The arid ground and arid biosphere made Rannoch a world difficult for imported grain species to grow.

But the efforts in the world’s terraformation, plus the adaptation of foreign plants, were already bearing fruit. Down a valley, at the edge of the reserve, a field of foreign wheat had taken root and formed a golden patch amidst the red iron-infused land.

It was far from the field stretching in all directions, but enough for Zal to recognize Rannoch would change under the Turians’ rules.

It had already changed with the Quarians; it would continue.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? It looks so savage!” said Rectus, patting Zal’s naked shoulder before he pulled out a flask from his backpack and drank. The smell of spirits so early in the afternoon tickled the Quarian’s nostrils. Surely enough, Zal even refused the offered flask with a hand while watching the elderly Turian.

Well. Elderly due to the scratches on the chitin and the clearer smudges here and there. But regarding fitness, or the spring in his steps, Rectus might have as well looked like a young Turian male.

And indeed, without his clothes, he was flaunting genitals that would have made many of those young studs envy an old Turian like him.

A cock he narrowly touched when scratching his groin.

“It is different from what I used to know,” admitted Zal, nodding. Then he turned to watch what the other two Turians were doing. As soon as he glanced over, Zal noted Pelagius had been eagerly ogling his ass. Even the stripped officer’s cock throbbed and was engorged, swaying between his legs while sitting.

As for Cestus, he was still dry-heaving from walking so long.

Despite Zal feeling extremely weak from his treatment, he wasn’t the worse for wear. Cestus? Oh, he had to guzzle water and painkillers.

“Fuck! How far are we going?” asked the ventripotent Turian, checking the cloudless sky above and finding only the blinding sun.

“Two more hours along the trail. But if you prefer, we can do that without you. Zal would be happy to follow us, hmm?”

Zal did not answer, though the implications were obvious, much like the hand currently groping his ass.

“Pfheh! If Zal can do it, I can do the same. Where’s Senus? You lost him, Dad?”

“Senus? He jumped ahead. Don’t worry about him,” laughed Rectus, smacking Zal’s ass and letting go before he reached for his backpack.

Everyone had their backpack. Everyone was naked… And everyone had to carry their weight to the next camp. Well, Zal had a lighter bag considering his situation. But in return, Pelagius had been keen on bestowing another weight on the Quarian.

He did not know how or when it started, but Zal felt his scrotum was heavier. And when he checked it, during midday, it was obviously bigger. Not massive.

But Zal could feel his testicles swing with every step, and he had to mind them lest they slam against his thighs.

Even Cestus eyed them curiously, though Zal’s curt answer about it made him understand Pelagius was, again, planning something.

“Are we ready to go? Too bad we couldn’t have bought another whore from a district,” said Rectus, laughing.

“Dad. Again?”

“Why? Imagine if we had three Quarians for us. Zal, and two bitches to join the party. I wouldn’t have to hold back!”

“Even taking Zal here is difficult. Non-assigned Quarians? We should have planned earlier. And we already have someone to help us with our needs,” said Pelagius, eyeing Zal up and down. “How does our Quarian feel?”

“Good. Enough,” answered Zal, putting his backpack on and huffing. “I’m ready.”

“Give me… One breath. I… Good. I’m good! I’m fine! I… I can continue.”

Cestus evidently looked like he was about to die from exhaustion. Yet, he managed to get up on his feet, put on his backpack, and approach Pelagius. Pelagius, who grimaced.

“I wouldn’t… want my Wife to be disappointed. She needs her husband,” answered Cestus, his words betraying his jealousy?

Something almost pitiful as Zal shook his head.

“Let’s go,” said Rectus.

All four returned to walk on the trails, with nothing to cover themselves. Well, Zal had shoes, virtues of not having reinforced soles. But the three Turians were even barefoot.

Perhaps piercings could count as clothing: some still dangled from Zal’s swaying breasts. Piercings Pelagius teased with his digits when he passed by Zal, talking.

“So, Zal. How is your treatment doing? Are you still taking the pills?”

“I- am still taking them, Pelagius. You should know that with all the scans you’re doing of me.”

“Scans? Do you think I’m a peeping tom?” asked Pelagius, smiling. Caught. “But it is true. Your body is adapting so well. Have you been ovulating?”

“… What?”

“It hasn’t happened, then?”

“What? Ovulating?”

Zal blinked, though he regretted his question. Ovulating. It’d mean he could get pregnant. He didn’t know if he could. But-

“Do not worry. We will make sure it happens. Though, I am unsure if it will be your husband’s kids… Or mine,” said Pelagius, glancing over his shoulder and nudging at Zal’s side, “Which one would you prefer?”

“I- Wait. What’s Rectus doing?”

Zal happily grabbed onto the opportunity of Rectus leaning over an edge to distract Pelagius. The attempt worked, as Pelagius grumbled and shook his head.

“You should tell me, one day,” he still added before he ran toward Rectus. “Dad! Watch out!”

Zal, in the meantime, slowed down. He looked over his shoulder and saw Cestus trudging along. The Turian huffed and trembled, bent over. And for a moment, if Zal had been focused on him, he would have missed the sound of Rectus crying.

A shout that made everyone perk up in Rectus’ direction, solely to see the old Turian with his hands around his mouth. Then, the old Turian laughed, along with Pelagius.

“Hah! Look at you! You were afraid the old Turian would fall?!”

“Dad. It’s not fun,” grunted Cestus.

“It is. Very fun,” added Pelagius. “But you should come. We already see where would be our camp.”

Zal advanced, walking on the narrow trail that ran along a stony ridge. Dry grass grew on either side, delineating the secure path. But once Zal approached, he saw indeed the path they were to take through the mesas, under a few rocky plateaus, and finally approach a lake.

A path that was all indicated and easy to follow, albeit frustrating with the many stops they had to take, the pain it forced on the knees and ankles when following the downward slopes. And Zal… Worse for all, it was starting to feel weird. And it wasn’t only from the treatment.

His chest was again backed up, though it would be empty if any of the Turians had their way. But it wasn’t the issue again.

His asshole was damp and lubricated again, making his buttcheeks sometimes clap if he clenched them.

But it was not that.

It was something else, something he couldn’t pinpoint, though even Rectus began to notice the Quarian’s reddening skin and his wobbly gait.

“Hey. You’ve drunk from my flask or what?” asked Rectus, helping Zal descend by gripping his arm.

“I don’t know. It’s the first time I have been making any physical effort since…”

“Since?”

Zal didn’t answer, but had his hands turned inward, as if presenting a prize. And Rectus whistled.

“True. Is that right, having them cut off makes you weaker?”

“Isn’t it… The case for Turians?” asked Zal, grimly.

“It is. But with the aliens, you don’t know. I mean, look at the Krogans. They’ve got four, and if you cut two, they would not change.”

“They’d certainly be very angry.”

“Hah! True! But you get my meaning, no? I am no Quarian, and I do not know how it works.”

Zal tried to shrug.

“Maybe. However, it is the same for me as for all of you. I eat, drink, and there goes the rest.”

“You wouldn’t know what people used to say about Quarians back on Palaven.”

“What?”

Rectus then turned to the trail and scratched his chin. In the meantime, there was the sound of Cestus running closer.

Senus was following along, the old Varren quite fond of Cestus. And no matter how many attempts were made to make peace with the beast, Zal received no positive results. But if Cestus was running, it meant something.

And the heavy Turian approached, before he bent over.

“Dad… No… More speaking about that,” tried the Turian, out of breath.

“That what?”

“Zal’s bits.”

Zal raised an eyebrow, and so did Rectus. Cestus’ actions were becoming increasingly troubling and curious. But Rectus did not need much to drop the ball.

“Sure. So, Zal. Have you ever been camping?”

“Here, on Rannoch?” asked Zal.

“It makes a difference?”

“I used to make do on a ship… And I did it on a few garden worlds… But it’ll be… My first time on Rannoch.”

“You never did it here?”

“I couldn’t leave for the reserve or anywhere far from the city.”

“He couldn’t even leave the slums if he wanted,” added Cestus, leaning to scratch the Varren’s back.

“Oh, right! It will be a first, then. I hope you don’t mind sharing a tent with us three,” said Rectus, winking and leaving.

A wink that left Zal surprised. But grimacing in petto.

“Only one tent?”

“I assumed they took one, too… Fuck, they played me,” added Cestus, shaking his head.

“Not their first time, it seems,” continued Zal.

“Zal. I didn’t ask for this.”

“No,” continued the Quarian, crossing his arms. “But you practically let them do that to you, Cestus. But come on, we’re almost there.”

By then, Zal meant again a dozen minutes before they were by the ‘lake’ that had been pointed out. From up close, it appeared more like a pond due to its shallow depth. However, it was appreciable, thanks to the trees growing around it and the life that seemed to flourish nearby.

The insects buzzed all around, though the Turians seemed dissatisfied about it, Pelagius first.

He waved his hand, chasing the insects as he often did while installing the tent with an intense focus. Moreover, Zal was surprised that none of the Turians had made any advance or tried to fuck him before setting up the tent.

Cestus was logical since he acted distant. But Rectus and Pelagius? None were asking him to blow them. And though they moved all naked, their genitals sometimes landed on the floor as they squatted… They were not asking Zal to clean them.

A surprise, as Zal was forced to sit around and wait, keeping watch on the bags and the small camp they were in.

Previous campers had already set a fire pit, and ashes filled it. Logs and rocks formed a circle around the pit, though one of those rocks was massive enough to lie on.

The camp itself was pretty close to the ‘lake’… Though protected from the sunlight by some overhanging plateaus that could have been threatening if not stable on many peaks.

The scent of distant flowers was an invitation to rest, and for once, there was something stronger than the Turians’ musk sticking in the air; the flowers and the smell of sand being kicked. Ochre, mainly. Or heavy with oxidized iron?

Nevertheless, the Quarian could almost feel at peace while he looked at Senus sleeping on one of the nearby rocks, enjoying the heat the surface gave off.

“That’s not how you put the stakes! Watch out, damnit!” cried Rectus, shaking his fist.

“I’m doing my best,” grumbled Cestus. “I’m not used to camping like you two.”

“You would, if you were in the army,” added Pelagius in a snide remark.

“Haha. So I’d be mother’s favorite instead of you?”

“Even if you did, I’d be the favorite.”

“Shush, you two.”

Zal watched the three squabbles and yet managed to work together rather well. Not completely in tandem, but enough that the tent was taking shape. Evidently, Cestus bought a two-room tent.

The entrance led to a small antechamber that could serve as storage or shelter in case of rain. As for the second room, it was spacious and evidently would serve as a sleeping area, though…

“Where’s the mattress?”

Zal’s question halted the Turians as they were reviewing their work. And all three looked at him, sweaty and tired, while Zal approached, eyeing the empty second ‘room’.

“What?” asked Pelagius.

“The tent doesn’t have a mattress,” said Zal, tilting his head.

“Yeah, and? That’s normal,” said Rectus, grimacing.

“Where’s the problem, Zal?”

“Uh… When I went camping, the tent had a mattress. So-“

“We have one.”

Zal turned to Pelagius, who went to his back and pulled out a roll of plastic. He unrolled it, presenting what looked to be a flat… But evidently present mattress. Then, he pulled something else from his bag. A pump.

Pump he threw at Cestus: “Catch!”

“Fuck! Warn me before you do that!” shouted Cestus, though he’d managed to catch the pump. “Cunt.”

The cunt was soon followed by the flat mattress being thrown at Cestus, who grabbed it.

“Dad? I think Cestus can handle the mattress alone.”

“What? No!”

“Good idea. Zal, do you want to join us? We’re going to gather some wood.”

The Quarian eyed Cestus, fumbling and grumbling about the mattress, then the duo of Turians, about to walk away.

“Go without me. I’m feeling weak,” answered Zal, passing a hand on his ankles.

“Are you sure, Zal?” asked Pelagius with that sweet but threatening tone.

“Sure. I’m not sure if it’s the treatment, but walking long distances is tiring. And now that I can rest, I am not sure I have the energy to follow you.”

“You didn’t tell me, Zal. I could have taken a lighter trail,” said Rectus, frowning.

“I thought you’d know. Sorry. Daddy.”

Zal even feigned to be cuter, looking down. One instant after, Rectus sighed.

“Fine. Let’s go, Pelagius.”

“No. I think I’ll stay to help Cestus with the mattress, then.”

“Help me? I don’t need help with a pump. Go. I’ll keep watch on the Fag while you have fun together,” said Cestus, his tone sweet and insulting. Enough that Zal felt a yearning to step back so not to be in the crossfire.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to grow bored.”

“No need. I’ll have Zal to keep me company.”

“Let go, Pelagius. Let’s leave that to Cestus.”

Again, Pelagius’ expression turned into a cold anger. One Zal noticed as he looked up and met eye to eye. A pressure, a painful glare, Zal avoided by looking away.

“Sorry, Pelagius. I’m sure what you’ll do will be fun.”

Pelagius’ mandibles clicked, but after a click of his tongue, the Officer and the Father were off, leaving the camp.

Meanwhile, Zal felt lighter as he entered the tent and sat on the plastic surface in the first room, eyeing Cestus as he fought to get the mattress flat inside the second room.

“It was smart to tell them you were tired. Otherwise, they would have had their fun with you,” said Cestus once he’d slipped the mattress inside and attached the hand-pump to the mattress.

“I didn’t lie,” said Zal, laconic while joining his hands over his knees, pressing his chest and belly in a quasi-foetal posture. “I am tired, and the treatment is heavy on me.”

“How heavy?”

“If I try to run, I fall flat after three minutes. At best,” grimaced Zal, closing his eyes.

“It gets worse?”

“Probably. I don’t have access to my biological data like Pelagius. But if your brother hasn’t done anything, it doesn’t mean shit. It’s the treatment.”

Zal then pressed his forehead against his knees, exhaling while listening to the puff puff produced by the plastic handpump Cestus had to use. Sure enough, the fatty Turian also huffed and grunted.

There was that anxious silence, mixed in with the wheeze from the mattress's imperfect seal, sometimes giving up, and the splashing of amphibious critters jumping in the lake’s water.

“Cestus?”

“Hmm?” answered the Turian, slowing down his pumping. Or perhaps it was due to the air mattress filling up.

“Do you know why your family is terrible with you?”

“Ask a Turian why he preens his quills.”

“What?”

“An expression,” groaned Cestus, moving his posture and sitting near the seal, practically one foot away from where Zal was. “It means, why would you ask a Turian about what they naturally do?”

“From what I see and know, families aren’t like that.”

“How do you know?”

“Even in the slums, we formed like a big family. Even if we fought, the elders would always intervene to ease the tensions before things went wrong. It was better in the fleet when I was younger. Right now… What I see is that your mother hates your guts, your father doesn’t care, and Pelagius is fine and exploiting the situation. What happened?”

The pumping slowed… And Cestus grimaced, growling.

“There is no point in it. Zal. They hate my guts, but they save face by keeping me around. If they could have, they’d have thrown me aside and let me die, too. To keep the lineage clean.”

“The… Lineage? Clean?”

“We, Turians, respect the names and families more than the individuals. We are not like the Quarians who change names depending on the ship.”

“We no longer do that,” grumbled Zal.

“You don’t?”

“We used to, before we took Rannoch back. But after that, it became pointless. So we took the ship’s names for family name…”

Zal led on the last syllable as he watched one distant beast, practically one oversized feline, approach the lake’s banks. But as soon as Zal slowed his speech, the creature turned its head to the two and then fled.

A moment later, Zal blinked and turned to Cestus, who had stopped pumping and was eyeing him.

“Did you see it?” asked Zal, pointing ahead.

“See what?” said Cestus, turning his head and craning it to see what Zal was pointing at.

“Nothing. A large feline. Your father said it’s secure.”

“It is. If it weren’t, Senus would have been acting out. Look at him, he’s sleeping.”

Zal glanced ahead, and yes, he saw that Senus was still sound asleep on a rock, his little legs up and kicking the air.

Zal doubted it was enough, but then he returned to Cestus, who had returned to pumping.

“You did not answer. And you know why they hate you.”

“It’s not hate.”

“What is it, then?”

“Disappointment,” grumbled Cestus. “I have breathing issues. Had. I have a treatment. But it is a rare disease that wasn’t detected in the egg. Until I was twenty-six and got that treatment, I couldn’t have joined the army. It disappointed my mother, and she’s been taking it out on me.”

“That’s…”

“Rude.”

“Harsh. She never made peace with it? You’re doing fine here.”

“I’m barely doing fine,” grumbled Cestus, shaking his head. “As for her, since I never joined the army, it will never be enough. And no, I can’t join now. It’s not the same thing.”

Zal’s question died in his mouth. Then, he pressed his forehead against his knees, shuddering.

“How about your nuts? Are they still heavy and swollen?”

“It’s not worse,” mumbled Zal. “But I feel like they’re filled with something. I can feel them due to… You know, connected.”

“Got it.”

The nod that followed was enough for Zal as he returned to his body. His legs were burning, but it was not like yesterday. His breasts were heavy, but in that posture, they were bearable. His genitals hurt… And well, his asshole burned, but not with the energy of a heat. Otherwise, Cestus would have been hardly capable of keeping to himself, notwithstanding the other two.

His situation was like an everlasting source of pain and pleasure that meddled and kept him on edge. His body had been changed. And yet, far from being satisfied, Pelagius was now pushing for something Zal wasn’t keen to know about.

“How was it in the slums?” asked Cestus.

“What? Why do you ask?”

“You rarely talk about it. Or yourself, now that I think about it. So… How was it?”

“Is this important?”

There was a silence, and Zal looked at Cestus, watching him holding the pump up with that sidelong glance.

“We have time. So, unless you’d rather not, I can listen.”

“The slums were… Are… I don’t know. A mix. Most Quarians that lived with me were from the early generations that had settled on Rannoch. So you can imagine the opinion on Turians was low. Or at least, it was. The most vocals are quickly taken out of the slums and returned to us like… Whores. Looking like me but not assigned to a Turian.”

“That exists?”

“Yeah. We’ve got what? Two dozen of them? We keep them apart, near the Terminus, so Turians would hop in, fuck them, and get out. The slums were our places, and we didn’t need you- the Turians inside.”

Zal grimaced, thinking about how he’d perceived those whores, looked at those broken Quarians who would be no different than him. Or those he’d spurned because they wanted to become whores, too. He bit his lips.

“With what we could take from our jobs, we tried to keep our history together. We painted our homes in garish colors. Many hosted communal kitchens. I should have participated.”

“You never did?”

“I know how to cook,” said Zal, raising one hand. “And most food that’s cheap is riddled with hormones. You remember why I looked… Normal?”

“More muscular?”

“Yes. I had a strict diet with food that was imported from fields outside the city.”

“But… That’s illegal.”

“It’s not if no one checks it. Some Turians made a lot of credits from this, and it tastes better.”

Zal shrugged, biting his lips.

“But what I missed was the community. Even if we didn't have the same name, we used to work and be together. It’s not like for you, Turians.”

“Us? We can work together.”

“You are working together when it comes to combat,” said Zal, shaking his head. “But outside, you are very individualistic. For us, bonds and attachments are something different.”

“Is that why you have not bailed on me?”

“Probably,” grumbled Zal. “For what I consider… There could have been worse. Sticking up for you feels right.”

Cestus did not answer directly, but he continued pumping. Enough that the mattress looked hard and full… And that every pump was a real exercise for Cestus until he gave up, quickly removed the pump, and closed the seal.

“Are you okay with that idea of playing with the two so I can keep face with my mother?”

“I am not sure we are fooling her,” answered Zal. “But she doesn’t care much. She only cares if we hurt Pelagius.”

“Then-“

“Zaaaal! Cestus! We are back!”

Cestus’s shoulders dropped, and Zal had a thin smile on his face, standing up slowly. Cestus followed. The two stepped outside to see Rectus and Pelagius bringing a lot of dry wood, while Senus was jumping against Rectus’s left leg.

“Let’s get that fire started! I’m hungry!”

With Rectus and Cestus piling the wood, and Pelagius using a firestarter, the firepit was once more lit, and not soon enough. The temperatures could be cold on Rannoch, though the place was often described as temperate. And it wasn’t the coldest season.

Zal eagerly rubbed his arms while approaching the fire and warmed his hands before he watched Rectus pull sausages from his pack as well as skewers.

Meat. It wasn’t Zal’s favorite, but the Quarian did not complain as he sat. He watched the Oldest skewer the sausages to prepare them before he planted them around the fire.

It wouldn’t take long, and Zal already was hungry enough for his stomach to grumble.

“Sorry, it’s involuntary. It happens when I’m really hungry,” said Zal, scratching his neck before the surprised Rectus and Pelagius.

“It’s funny,” added Pelagius, smiling and reaching for his pack. “Because I thought about preparing your meal.”

“My… meal?” asked Zal, watching as Pelagius pulled two varren bowls from his bag. “No.”

“Yes. You’re not the only one who’s hungry,” answered Pelagius, pulling a bag, he shook. Kibbles.

Senus’ reaction did not wait, with the Varren rushing and jumping around Pelagius, even wagging his tail.

“Dad, can you hold him for a moment?” asked Pelagius, uncaring for Zal’s gobsmacked expression.

Rectus, without surprise, came to the rescue and pulled Senus away. And then, with a defiant grin and a smug attitude, Pelagius filled the two bowls with kibbles.

“The meal is ready,” said Pelagius, laughing.

As for Zal, he remained sitting, surprised… And confused.

“What?”

“What, what? Don’t tell you’d refuse me giving you such a priceless meal,” said Pelagius, shaking the bag before reading it. “It is full of proteins, of fibers, and it helps your pet stay healthy!”

“You want Zal to eat Varren food?” asked Cestus, butting in.

“Well. Your wife might be a pet at that point,” answered Pelagius, shrugging. “Plus. It wouldn’t hurt much to eat kibbles. Look how Senus is eager for more.”

A glance left, and Zal could confirm the Varren was ravenous, his large mouth chomping on the little mound sprouting from the bowl. And then, Zal returned to Pelagius.

“Why?”

“Because it’s fun. Don’t tell me it would be fun,” said Pelagius, turning to his Father, who nodded.

“Sure. Come on, Zal. It’s a joke. Just a bite,” said Rectus, smiling along.

Cestus? He grimaced, but Zal breathed, then turned to Pelagius, ready to tell him off.

However, Zal froze. The Turian’s expression was wrong. Oh, so wrong.

Perhaps it was the fire and its lighting that amplified the gaunt traits, or the red gaze that seemed to glimmer. But there was something off. Extremely off that almost made Zal jump while none of the other seemed to notice.

The mandibles did not click, and the way the eyes focused on Zal, it was as if a predator were about to pounce.

“Come on,” said Pelagius, his voice still suave. “Give it a taste.”

Zal shuddered, but stood up. Beside him, Cestus shuffled.

But Zal approached the bowl, feeling his legs wobbly.

“A bite, right?”

“You can always take more unless Senus refuses to share,” added Rectus.

Pelagius? No answer, except for the focus that made Zal uneasy. Even when the young Quarian leaned forward. His balance shifted, and he had to mind so he wouldn’t fall forward. But… Soon enough, Zal had his hands on the dusty ground.

He lifted his posterior and bent his knees… And then, his mouth was practically an inch away from the kibbles that reeked of artificial oils.

A gaze up and Pelagius was above, still as threatening. Rectus was on the other side of the fire, curious and amused. Cestus was silent, almost frightened.

And Zal leaned, taking one bite.

Senus grunted behind and then pushed Zal aside with his mouth, going to eat the contents of the bowl. Zal?

He didn’t resist. No, he spat the mouthful of kibbles and then retched, spitting saliva on the ground.

“What? What’s happening, Pelagius?” asked Rectus, eyeing his brother, who remained still.

Meanwhile, Zal was retching. Spitting, fighting the dry tears, and the need to throw up. Saliva filled his mouth in anticipation, and the back of his throat clenched.

That taste. It was not only terrible, it was… Raw. And acrid. And pungent. And nothing he could eat. It was like biting into rotten flesh, and Zal dry-heaved, his forehead on the floor.

“Oh! Sorry, Zal! I forgot,” said Pelagius, his voice saccharine.

Zal raised his head, watching the shrugging bastard.

“I forgot it was levo food. You know… Most levo are sluts so I assumed you were like that,” said Pelagius, smiling back at the Quarian, fighting against his tears. “I’m so sorry!”

“Fuck, Pelagius. You… You could make him go through an allergic reaction,” grumbled Cestus, approaching the Quarian and putting a hand on Zal’s back.

“An allergic reaction? Oh… Poor thing. They’re so fragile.”

Zal continued to dry-heave. But there were no signs of reaction: no fire in his throat or on his skin, no pain, no flare. He was lucky. Even then, the taste of that mouthful was enough to send him back retching.

“Zal took a bite. Now, let’s give him something to eat. Pass me a sausage.”

“But we have a problem.”

Zal’s ears rang a moment as he looked up once more. He wiped his face, and Pelagius was there, feigning sadness: “Sorry. But we don’t have enough food for Zal.”

“Are you serious-“ began Cestus.

“But I know a solution for this problem!”

Cestus grumbled while Zal tried not to retch again. He watched as Pelagius grabbed the bowl Senus had emptied before going to Zal’s. Then, the Turian shook it, made sure there was nothing. And then threw it on the ground right by his legs.

“Dad, I need your help. That type of help.”

“Fuck”, swore Cestus between his lips.

Sure enough, Rectus stood up, laughing.

“Aye. Your old Turian can help you with that,” confirmed Rectus while scratching his groin and approaching Pelagius. Soon enough, Father and Son had their arms over their shoulders, steadying themselves while their free hands went on their shafts, they began to stroke.

“Come on, Cestus. Don’t make a sour face like that! I’m sure your Wife would love a good Turian meal. Unless you never fed it to her.”

A grumble came from Cestus. His mandibles clicked.

“I ne-…” he stopped, his fists clenching.

Zal, on his side, observed as the two Turians’ cock, broad and massive, began to throb and get swollen. Even then, they maintained a firm grip while directing their cocks down towards the bowl. At the right angle. Their musky, sticky, and dense precum dripped from their squeezed foreskin and cocktips right into the bowl, forming a puddle of quasi-translucent liquid.

“You never? Please, Cestus. You never gave your Wife a taste of Turian cum?”

“I did and-“

“And I liked it,” groaned Zal, eyeing Cestus.

“You-“

Cestus evidently blinked, more so when Zal poked at that Cestus’ wide belly.

“Yes. You fed me cum. And… Would you prefer I don’t stay hungry? Before your Brother and Father?” continued Zal, his voice trembling.

“She’s a smart cookie,” added Pelagius, grinning. “Come on, Cestus. We can share a bowl for your wife.”

Cestus glared back, though he trembled when seeing Pelagius’ red gaze. So… Zal knew he, too, was afraid. Enough to follow as Zal prodded him to stand up.

Cestus was confused, and his side glance did not result in anything more than Zal prodding him while Pelagius and Rectus were still masturbating.

And then… There was the moment that was awaited. Pelagius grunted first, his breathing quick and his legs tensed. His mandibles clicked, and his eyelids finally closed. Even his eyebrows dropped when a fat orb of precum, whiteish, landed in the bowl. He did not cum, but he was darn close as his cocktip appeared and disappeared under the foreskin, under his fingers.

Rectus was quicker, but it seemed he wasn’t as excited as it was taking him much more time to reach his orgasm. Or so Zal thought, watching that fat and greasy cock, practically steaming in the cold air, delivering another long glob of precum with a line that stretched from the tip to the glob before it broke in the middle.

That density, that gooey shape, it was unmistakable.

And Cestus joined.

At first dubious, it took Rectus releasing his arms, switching hands, and giving his Son a squeeze for Cestus to get into the swing of things. The fattier Turian huffed, and soon, his cock, too, throbbed with excitement. His cock, no different than the others, was dripping and releasing precum into the bowl that was to overflow, soon.

But none seemed to be keen on being the first: Pelagius was fighting dearly to stay on edge, Rectus seemed too drunk to cum. And Cestus, he wasn’t giving his all.

For a moment, Zal wondered who would shoot first… And what would happen.

And then, it was Pelagius.

The Officer groaned and grunted, held his breath. His mandibles clicked… And it was done. With a grunt, Pelagius came, and the white shot was aimed at Zal at first. The musky hot cum hit the Quarian right in the face, splashing on the gray cheeks. A moment later, though, that cock aimed down, and the next shots, much weaker and less intense, splashed in the bowl.

The droplets landed around on the ground, and some on Senus, but it was not like Zal had already been marked. The Quarian huffed, feeling that he had to mind for the cum sticking to his face.

However, before he could comment or collect what dripped from his features… He heard Cestus’s groans. And so, the fattier Turian was the second to shoot his load into the bowl. His was more impressive to deal with, since he hadn’t cum on Zal. And the result was that most of that precum that had been pumped inside was splashed out, like a pump managing to push out fluids with the sheer pressure.

A pressure that left a pungent mass of cum. However, less than a minute later, during which Cestus and Pelagius grumbled and squeezed their cocks free of cum, it was Rectus’ time to ejaculate.

The older Turian even chuckled while he delivered the last shot, just as impressive as Cestus’ while the stench, the reeking scent of Turian cum, hit Zal’s nose stronger than before. Whatever it was, maybe it was that Turians got muskier and smellier with age.

A consideration Zal took as he watched that cum bowl entirely covered with Turian fluids: disgusting, sticky, steamy, and yes… Capable of wronging someone’s nose if unused to it.

Zal? He was abused. No, worse. He’d been trained. Trained, forced, drugged. And now, his stomach grumbled at the gooey pile.

“Like the humans say, Bon appétit,” said Pelagius, snorting.

“How do you know what humans say?”

“I used to watch their communications. I never told you?”

“You always say it’s highly illegal to talk about it.”

“Boys. Don’t be squabbling. But I wanna hear what you know about the humans.”

“Bullshit. He’s always saying stuff he finds on the extranet.”

While Cestus already criticized his Brother and the trio devolved into a shouting fight, Zal approached his face to the bowl.

His throat burned, his stomach hurt… And worse, his mouth watered.

That stuff was vile, disgusting. And yet, the Quarian plunged his head into it with his mouth open. The mix, gooey as it was, still went into his mouth. He closed it, closed his lips, lifted his head despite the frontal weight he’d recently gained. And he swallowed.

He swallowed that mix of Turian spunk, so smelly he would have retched before. And now? It was like refined food. Better than seared Erju roots, better than all the candied berries he’d eaten while young. It was… good.

Downright good as he gulped it down and leaned to take another gulp, and another while the trio talked, squabbled, and criticized each other. However, it was mainly Pelagius against Cestus, with Rectus sometimes giving Pelagius his support.

“It’s not even the Great Mural! It’s the Great Wall!” groaned Cestus.

“Semantics. I saw it when I came down the well.”

“You couldn’t. Earth has cut diplomatic ties!”

“He could have. Some representatives were sent to discuss a treaty with Earth.”

“And he was there? Fucking make me laugh! You give him too much importance!”

“Yeah? Says the failure who can’t take bootcamp!”

“Bootcamp? Because that’s the only thing you can compare me to! I have a job! A company! A network!”

“With non-Turians! Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

“Because the Asaris are a no-go? Like Aisha?”

“She’s the exception.”

“More like Mom told you she’s the exception!”

“Don’t add Aisha to the conversation.”

The squabble continued while Zal gulped that goo. Even then, even with the mouthful, it was taking time to empty the bowl. And his stomach was almost soothed to have that fat spunk swallowed and pushed down.

It would almost be perfect if the Turians ignored him… And yet, something happened.

A shock, a hit. Zal’s body tensed, more so his thighs. And he looked up, noticing Pelagius’ fingers had been on his omnitool.

A surprising sight, for sure.

But more was the second shock that hit him.

The shock made him stop eating. Zal kept his head upright, his jaw tensed, and his cheeks filled with cum. His body was at the ready, almost about to burst into a rush of nervous energy. And for what?

His balls. But they were not shocking him; it was something else. Like a feedback he wasn’t supposed to sense. His balls were… Throbbing?

Throbbing, yes. They throbbed against his thighs, the sheer volume pressing against his gray skin while his scrotum was pulled higher due to a rush of hormones and reflexes Zal didn’t know about. Still, he tried to stay still, even to force that spunk down.

But he hiccupped when another shock hit him. Then, the shock went… Up.

No. Not a shock this time, but something went up his scrotum. One thing, two, three, many. It became clear something was happening, and Zal’s scrotum throbbed while his perineum burned, so did his abdominal muscles.

And above? Oh, the trio squabbled, but Pelagius was often looking down at Zal, smiling.

“See, Dad? Again, he’s telling us crap! It has been two years since a ship could go to the Citadel! I tracked it myself, it’s my job! And he’s saying he went there for a vacation?”

“He’s a soldier; it could be different.”

“Different what? C-Sec locked us out and… Fuck, Pelagius! Stop looking at Zal like that! Look at me!”

“You should look at her, your ‘wife’ doesn’t look so good.”

Cestus glanced down, and indeed, Zal was not looking good. His lips were pulled, revealing his teeth that rubbed together, ground together. Cum dripped from his lips as Zal tried to stay still despite the sensation hitting his lower body, his prostate, too.

Finally, Cestus approached and Rectus joined, though only Cestus squatted by Zal.

The older Turian remained around, tiptoeing while Zal remained still, his face redder than usual and his expression far more tense.

“Zal. What’s happening? Are you fine?”

Zal shook his head, his jaw tense.

“Is there a problem?”

He nodded.

“Zal has no problem. It’s fine.”

“Is it an allergic reaction?”

Zal shook his head.

“Fuck… huh.”

Zal finally dry-heaved and his hips hump forward, in a reflex motivated by a shock, fear, and disgust. Something was wiggling, no, moving inside his prostate. And he was fighting everything not to puke or cry or give out anything Pelagius might use.

“Do-Down,” said Zal, looking down.

“Down? Down where?” asked Cestus, looking around. He bent, looked under Zal. Then, aside, then leaned to check behind. “Pelagius? What are you doing?”

“Me?” asked the officer, acting innocent.

“Don’t make me laugh. You are still logged onto his balls. Even Zal knows it.”

“Hah! Well, if Zal knows it and is so smart, maybe Zal can tell us what’s happening? Zal? See, no answer.”

Zal kept his mouth closed, fighting against the reflexes. He swallowed down his saliva and breathed slowly through his nostrils. His fingers dug into the sandy ground. And… Well, he felt it move. The reflexes were forced through shocks. Though the pain from having his prostate and groin hit by electric shocks was terrible, it wasn’t the worst.

Not at all. It was the things that rolled up his prostate. That pressed and rolled and pushed towards the outside. It was different, easier, though, than the parasites. But the sensation was just as alien, just as nauseating, just as terrible for the Quarian who felt like, once more, he was ‘giving birth’.

“What’s happening, Zal? Can’t you tell us?”

“Fuck, Pelagius. Stop teasing and tell me what’s happening.”

“You’re so fucking lame. Check her cocklet.”

Cestus leaned and eyed, though he merely saw Zal’s cocklet dripping with precum, a nub pointing down without any importance, without any girth, without the Turian vigor the family had often claimed.

Finally, something happened. The base of that cocklet bulged and something… Slipped down, appeared through the cocklet before an orb popped free from the gaping urethra. A blue orb, practically like a marble. It caught the attention as it dropped into a puddle of watery puddle and… Broke, releasing more fluids.

Soon enough, there was another orb, but this time, Cestus snatched it and raised it towards Rectus and Pelagius.

“What’s this? Another parasite? Another thing that’ll devour Zal’s balls or another Quarian?” asked Cestus, gruffly.

“Parasite? Pfhr! Are you serious about defending your bitch, Cestus?”

Still, Pelagius grabbed the marble with his fingers and brought it above his cock… Before he broke it. The soft surface, practically akin to a fruit’s skin, burst open and the liquid inside splashed on the Turian’s cock, coating the half-hard organ with a watery fluid… Similar to Zal’s precum.

“Another parasite? My ass. I turned on the lube production for us. We won’t need any during our stay.”

“Lube? Are you serious, Pelagius?”

“She doesn’t need any to be fair. Even now, she’s wet.”

“Oups. I must have forgotten her treatment helped with that,” laughed Pelagius, shrugging while stroking his cock with what was ‘lube’, produced from Zal’s nuts.

“But that’s too bad. Because for her next… Hmm… Forty-five hours from now, your wife will produce them. It shouldn’t be too painful, though. I don’t know what her problem is.”

The problem?

It was not physical. Once the first orb was out and the prostate stretched, as well as the modified pathways, it didn’t hurt anymore. Except for the shocks that coursed through Zal’s nuts and went up.

No, the issue was… Zal.

Zal shuddered, thinking again about that video. About those parasites, like monsters, sprouting from his cock and slipping out. They looked like grubs, but worse, and they were fat. So fat with what had been his genitals.

And now, he was feeling the same thing. The same invading sensation was inside his body. He was sick, and he was feeling so sick that he wanted to throw up. He wanted to drop. His eyes rolled, and his face was no longer gray but almost red.

His breathing was quick.

“Hey! Hey! Zal! Stay with me!” shouted Cestus. But Zal closed his eyes.

-

When Zal woke up, he was… Warm. He was no longer cold, unlike outside, where the desert wind was hitting him. He was warm, he felt warm. No, more than that, he felt a hand on his body.

No… Something inside him, too.

He felt it like a prodding, though its nature was not lost on Zal with his experience. So he grumbled, feeling how dry his throat was… He tried to move his arm, only to find it numb… or squeezed? He clenched his eyelids tighter, trying to focus on pulling.

At the same time, his back moved and was pressed against something chitinous, something he was to know… In a way. But being taken like this in the back?

Zal growled, feeling the more he pushed, the more something resisted. And then… hands locked on his generous thighs, stroking and holding them.

He was… Held.

Finally, Zal opened his mouth and found he was facing a very awake and very aware Cestus. But Cestus’ hands were kept to himself, and his eyes were not eyeing Zal… But someone was behind him.

“She’s awake,” said a voice behind. Pelagius’.

Zal turned his head a bit, watching that same face and that grin before the lips met with his, and Zal was forced into such a kiss… And yet, forced to endure another thrust inside his asshole.

Zal gasped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Then, he eyed Cestus, whose mandibles contorted in a grimace.

“What-… Are we still?” asked Zal, turning his head to see they were indeed in the tent. The plastic structure covered them. And then steps approached, with one presence popping its head through the door.

“I prepared the coffee. Stop having fun and let’s eat.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist Cestus’ wife. She has such a good ass,” laughed Pelagius, his cock still inside Zal, though he wasn’t fully hard. And once he withdrew, the Quarian was aware of how wet his posterior was. He… Pelagius came in his ass.

Though maybe he hadn’t been the only one since the flow that dripped out was… A lot. Same as the pressure once Zal clenched his butthole. His belly throbbed, hurt a bit… But not worse than when he was taken during his heat.

However, the detail that struck him was not his guts getting stuffed by Turian cum. No… It was the sensations of those… Marbles inside his groin. One of them was at his cocktip, too, before it slipped out and left Zal’s urethra gaping… And hurting.

“Sh-Shit,” he mouthed silently, his teeth clenching and his body tense.

He was feeling nauseous, feeling weird. Yet… There was something unexpected when Zal felt his numb arm start to move… And a hand, chitinous, pressed against his palm; Cestus’.

Zal’s surprise was written all over his face while behind him, Pelagius grumbled.

“Fuck. That ass is divine, Dad. If you don’t mind, I’ll take her again before we get back on the trail.”

“Not before me!” laughed Rectus, stepping away.

“Don’t stay in bed, sleepy head. Especially you, Cestus. We still have the whole day of trekking!”

“Yeah, no need to remind me. Give me a moment,” shouted back Cestus, bringing his hand back to himself while straightening himself. “Fuck.”

Pelagius had already left by the time Cestus swore. And the Quarian found himself too sore to move. His ass was wet and drippy, and would be worse if he tried to move while keeping his buttcheeks clenched.

“Zal?”

“What happened?” asked the young Quarian, his voice coarse.

“You collapsed,” said Cestus, shaking his head. “How do you feel?”

“Nauseous… Like those… Things are again inside me and slipping out,” blurted Zal, fighting a dry heave. “They… They are still inside.”

“Yeah,” nodded Cestus, scratching his crest. “Pelagius said it would stay like that for the next forty-ish hours?”

“I remember.”

A shudder came through Zal and a spasm through his groin, his prostate, and modified muscles pushing forth one of those marbles, practically at the edge of the bladder. He huffed.

“Bo… Bosh’tet.”

“We can go back, Zal.”

“No. If I do… He’ll be on my back,” grumbled Zal, shaking his head.

“Zal. You look like you’re about to throw up. Is it so much worse if he’s angry at you?”

Zal… Nodded. And sighed.

“I- You saw his look he gave me yesterday.”

Silence.

“You saw it.”

“Yes, I saw it, Zal,” confirmed Cestus, his hand going for Zal’s shoulder. It stopped, hovered above. And then, Cestus’ hand dropped, stroking the Quarian’s shoulder. “I’ll give you something. They’re waiting.”

The Turian huffed and growled but stood up, allowing Zal to stay inside the sheets. They were dirty and reeking of Turian musk. But the warmth, whether from the mattress below or the sheets, was a little respite for Zal, who closed his eyes.

Then, there was a shuffle, and Cestus approached, bringing a bottle of water and two pills he handed out.

“What’s this?”

“Anti-nausea and painkillers. I don’t know if it’ll help, but-“

Before Cestus could explain, Zal snatched the pills, gobbled them up, and forced them down with the water. He practically emptied three-quarters of the bottle before he gave it back.

“Anything… Will help,” groaned Zal, wiping his face and fighting his nausea.

Cestus nodded and left, somber.

For a moment, the Quarian remained still, fighting the waves of nausea that went through him. A moment that stopped when thinking or even feeling those ‘marbles’ inside his groin wasn’t pushing him to throw up. Or more likely, he didn’t feel like he could throw up.

Even his legs’ weakness, the soreness he’d expected from walking so much, wasn’t there as he straightened himself.

Then… Came the effort to roll outside the bed while keeping his thighs clenched so no cum would be spilled inside. At least, not more than necessary.

It looked awkward, but in the end… Zal stepped out and grumbled, a hand to his face. Only to be welcomed with laughter.

“Here she is! I told you she’d be fine!” said Pelagius, smacking his Brother’s back.

The trio of Turians was around the firepit, the mere embers enough to make Zal feel hotter as he approached… And stopped.

The three were drinking coffee, with Cestus holding onto his cup and keeping an eye on Zal. Rectus? He was drinking and snaking on seeds. Same for Pelagius, who seemed more relaxed.

“I’d prefer not to overdo anything today,” mumbled Cestus.

“More like you’re a fat fucker who hates working out. Don’t put it out on your wife!”

“That’s not-… Fuck, Pelagius? Can’t you listen to someone else’s opinion for once?”

“Why would I listen to yours? We’re going through the valley and we’ll camp on the ridge.”

Zal opened his mouth and then hissed… He felt cum drip between his thighs.

His reflex was then to turn and search where the Turians had gone to take a leak.

“Zal? Where are you going?” asked Rectus, stopping the Quarian.

“Yeah, Zal. You’re going somewhere?”

“I need to… You know. Empty myself,” mumbled the Quarian, waving his hand. “I… Am full.”

“So it’s not a problem, you can do it here,” said Pelagius, grinning ear to ear.

“H… here?”

“In front of the tent? It’ll be a mess,” commented Cestus.

“We’ll clean it up. Or ask your Wife to do so.”

“There’s a lake for that.”

“But you’d think people would like to have a Quarian emptying her cunt into drinkable water.”

Even Cestus grimaced.

“She can still do it after we removed the tent.”

“Great idea! Dad!”

“Then-“ began Cestus, standing up, only to be stopped.

“What are you doing?” asked Pelagius.

“I’ll handle the tent.”

“Let’s finish our breakfast together, and then we’ll do that. You can hold it in, Zal, no?”

A glance at Rectus and Zal noticed how excited the old Turian was. His cock was throbbing but not hard. He was having fun, too.

So… Zal walked carefully towards one of the rocks, still feeling too close to the tent and bags for his comfort, and… Sat. He clenched his thighs as hard as he could, to the point that he would be sure they’d hurt after. But no cum… No fluids dripped out when Rectus handed Zal seeds to gnaw on, along with coffee.

“Thanks,” mumbled Zal, getting the seeds that were quite hard. But enough, he could crunch them under his teeth. He was glad none had followed with the idea of removing his teeth. But he was still feeling unnerved. More so when everyone’s gaze was on him. Pelagius with excitement. Cestus with worries. And Rectus with lust.

Zal grimaced but still hated and downed the coffee before he handed the mug back. The last of the quartet.

“I’m done.”

“Good! Let’s go!” said Cestus, almost jumping on his feet, while the two other Turians looked practically disappointed. Practically frustrated, Zal remained still and didn’t move an inch. He was sure that, in the case he opened his legs, the flow wouldn’t be controlled.

So… he kept still. He kept it inside as he watched the Turians undo the bed and tidy things up. Cestus… Was the fastest. Pelagius was clearly taking his time for every little action and even took breaks to nag his brother, who was not so concerned either.

The pressure continued to wreak havoc in Zal’s guts, to pressure against his body… And so, with a grimace, with a sigh, finally Zal saw the Turians rolling the tent.

“Good. The place is clean. You held it in well, Zal!” praised Pelagius, saccharine.

“Can we see it, now?”

Zal exhaled and opened his legs, feeling the cum dripping free. Only to clench them at the shout.

“Not like that! Here!” shouted Pelagius, snapping his fingers and pointing at the ground in front of him.

“Pelagius! You’re not talking to a Varren!”

“What? She’s a Quarian. Are you about to tell me to respect her because you’re with her?”

Cestus grimaced.

“Yeah. I thought so. She’s just a trophy for Mother. You know that bitch will bend over for us. Don’t even try to argue, Cestus.”

“I-“

“I don’t care. Zal. Come here! Now!”

Even Rectus seemed surprised at the outlook. But Zal used his hands to push himself off the rocks and onto his feet. Feet and legs that were way too wobbly when he approached Pelagius… When he stood before him and watched his index finger point down.

“Good. Contrary to Cestus, you know how to listen,” said Pelagius, grinning. “I prefer that. When girls listen to their husbands.”

Zal squirmed but listened, indeed, watching how Pelagius’ glimmer of malice had returned. He wasn’t frowning or outright frowning at Zal’s words. But he wanted something, and he had that glee while admiring Zal’s cushiony shape move with such discomfort.

“Put your hands behind your neck.”

Zal lifted his arms weakly and… Did so.

“Good. You’ll squat and empty yourself here, right now.”

Zal grimaced but began to squat. He tried to clench as much as he could, but it became apparent he couldn’t hold it in while squatting. He widened his stance, he tried to move inch by inch. And then… Zal merely gave up.

He gritted his teeth and no longer clenched his sphincter. He squatted… And so came the cum flowing free. Humiliating, musky, steamy, disgusting. A presence Zal felt as much as the pressure going through his ruined rim. It pulled on it, narrowly yanked it out.

Zal grimaced, closing his mouth and eyes, trying to look… No, to act tougher.

All the while, air and cum poured free in a slurping noise, a loud noise that filled that little campsite while the Quarian had to hold onto his neck and show himself like… Like some sort of whore showing the goods to a Turian. Like… Like a ruined Quarian. He was that. But he was showing himself as such, he was practically showing to the world he had been stuffed with cum and-

“Thank me!”

“… Wh-What?”

“Thank me for breeding your worthless ass and making a cuck out of Cestus!”

“H-Hey!”

“Pelagius!” shouted Rectus, too.

“Sorry! Thank me and Rectus! Say you are happy we stuffed you while you slept!”

“Better.”

Zal opened his eyes. Pelagius had crossed his arms and smiled. Rectus was aside, one hand on his Son’s shoulder.

And Cestus? Well, he was by his brother, glaring at Pelagius.

“What? You don’t want Zal to say it? You’d prefer you’d be the one to thank us?”

“Pelagius. You’re pushing it.”

“No. You and Zal are. I don’t know what you’re telling each other, but I know how to notice a glare or whatever you do together. So go on… You want to protect Zal for whatever reason? Say it.”

Cestus blinked, mouth agape. For once, even Rectus seemed stunned.

“It’s excessive, Pelagius.”

“What? You won’t protect that failure, too?”

“No. But he’s our family, and-“

“He stopped the moment he failed to be a good Turian. You know what Mother thinks of it.”

Rectus’ mouth closed. He, too, looked pathetic at that instant, while Zal remained still or tried to. But his balance was shifting, and the constant bickering was getting on his mind.

“Pelagius… You-”

Zal inhaled. Loudly, so much that he was feeling his lungs were about to explode. But he managed to stop the discussion, drawing everyone's attention. Even Cestus.

“Thank you!” began Zal, his voice tense, his nostrils flared. “Thank you for breeding me, Rectus and Pelagius! And for filling me!”

Pelagius crossed his arms at the display, his gaze turned towards Zal.

“Go on.”

Again, Zal took a sharp breath, filling the cum flow, finally going dry, stopping… And turning into a mere ooze after he’d unleashed a sizeable puddle of cum on the camp.

“I-… Thank you for making a cuck out of Cestus!”

Pelagius looked at Zal… Smiled. But as his smile entirely crept up on his face, it disappeared. His arms dropped, his tongue clicked, and he turned away.

“Fine. We leave. Now.”

Pelagius’ words were harsh, brutal. And the Officer turned away, grabbing his bag to sling it over his shoulder: no glance, no glare, not even a check over his shoulder.

And Zal… Zal sighed, watching as Rectus followed. Cestus? He grabbed his and Zal’s bags, but approached the Quarian.

Zal’s legs remained wobbly. But with the Turian’s help, he was able to straighten up… And avoid taking too many steps in the cum puddle.

Breathless, his face red, Zal felt Cestus’s hands on his shoulder as the fattier Turian pushed him forward.

“Thank you…”

The whisper was grateful, Zal nodded along, stepping and following the trail, his body not burdened by the bags. A boon, almost as he was allowed to walk along… And endure whenever one of the ‘marbles’ came out, dropping from his groin and exploding in a puddle of precum.

Cestus, without surprise, remained in the back while Pelagius was practically rushing ahead, stomping so much that Zal could see the clouds of dust he lifted even in the distance as they crossed through the valley, surrounded by the mesas and high stone pillars.

For a moment, the Quarian even tried to allow himself to think not about the situation but the world surrounding them, to the plants growing in the valley’s shade and clinging to the tidbits of humidity that were allowed to exist here.

However, each attempt was short-lived and ultimately resulted in something importuning Zal. Rectus came closer to get a feel or Pelagius decided to take a break without warning. Or Cestus had to run to catch up with Zal.

Much like…. As the sun stood way above their heads and the temperature became rough enough, they had to walk along the mesas’ shades.

Zal turned to the huffing and grunting Cestus. Rectus and Pelagius had already left ahead. And Cestus was sitting, trying to catch his breath.

“Do you know when we break camp?” asked Zal, glancing towards the two other Turians’ direction. Only to return when Cestus coughed… And pointed up to a ridge that was quite far but visible, like a blade extending towards the sky.

“We must… Circumvent it. Then climb it. That’s what they said,” said Cestus, huffing.

“Let’s get going, then.”

“Are you still nauseous?”

Zal froze a bit. If he focused too much on his groin, he could feel the nausea return and hit him. Same as a headache.

“A bit.”

Followed Cestus shuffling through his back, searching through it.

“Give me two seconds.”

“Cestus. Are you feeling bad about what’s happening?”

The shuffling stopped.

“If I say yes, do you think I’m pathetic?”

Zal sat, putting his elbows on his knees. Even if it wasn’t bad for his posture, it did help him feel, as his ‘breasts’ rested on his legs.

“No. I don’t know,” answered Zal, shaking his head. “But thank you.”

“For? Feeling bad?”

“Trying. You got the pills?” asked the Quarian, turning to see the Turian just as he pulled the bottles and pulled one of each, giving them to Zal.

“Do you need water?”

“I have enough saliva,” answered Zal, swallowing the pills and forcing them down with saliva before he stood up. “I’ll try to keep up until it is all over. Can you do the same?”

“Why do you ask me? That’s you Rectus and Pelagius want to fuck.”

“I can… Take it. So long, I am sure I can get away. So. Can you take it?”

Cestus’ grimace was unfeigned, his discomfort visible. But he closed his fist and hit his chest’s osseous plate.

“I will. Count on me.”

Zal turned away. It was all he needed to endure as he followed the trail and found Rectus and Pelagius waiting for him again, checking in on Zal and Cestus to see if they needed anything.

Once more, Zal forced a smile and answered positively. No, more than that, with the painkiller, he didn’t have to think about his legs and exhaustion as he forced the pace to stay with Rectus.

Enough that even Pelagius slowed his pace, and by camp time, the two Turians were close, with Rectus regaling Zal with tales about his own story in the army and how his young years went before his betrothal to Calipinia.

A discussion that ought to be charming… If not for the many interventions of Pelagius, who often corrected his Father on details. Weapons, lingo, even organization.

Pelagius was definitely avid to stay in control and to be as accurate as possible, whereas Zal feigned ignorance… Even when listening to Rectus, who sometimes huffed in reaction. Even the old Turian was bothered by it, he indulged his Son in allowing those corrections.

As the quartet continued to ascend the ridge, they followed a thin trail. A situation where Zal always checked over his shoulder to see if Cestus was capable of following.

The overweight Turian was enduring it, though, by the end, they landed in their ‘camp’, An opportunity in which Cestus took a break and handed Zal’s his pills.

In a pitiful repetition, Zal was again invited to join in foraging for the fire while Cestus was to stay for the mattress. A situation that, again, led to the duo talking and waiting in the tent, this time taking turns to fill the mattress.

“My Brother and Father probably are thinking about doing something together,” commented Cestus, the puff-puff filling the silence.

“… Yes,” confirmed Zal with a nod and a sigh. “How long until this trip is over?”

“Another night outside, then we take a bus back to the entrance, and we leave.”

Silence… Again.

However, as they were no longer hiding between the mesas, Zal was able to see the starry sky above and to enjoy it. Enough that he reclined on the tent’s edge, listening to the puff-puff.

“Where do you want to go?”

Zal huffed.

“Why do you ask?”

“Like that. If you prefer not to answer, it’s fine,” mumbled Cestus, grunting.

Zal closed his eyes, trying to remember what he had retained from his maps. Old stuff he’d learned and compared before he finally pointed up in the sky. One direction would be the Hunter’s constellation in the old times.

“The Rosetta Nebula. That’s where I’d go.”

“Rosetta… Rosetta? Wait. It’s only four jumps away from here,” said Cestus, stopping his puff-puff and sealing the mattress. His huffing continued, his steps closer until he looked in the same direction as Zal.

“Yeah. Probably Rosetta. Or it is the Phoenix Massing.”

“It is Rosetta.”

“If you say so,” answered the Turian, sitting and eyeing where his family members were gone. “What would you do there?”

Zal grimaced, thinking about it.

“It’s private?”

“It is. I cannot tell exactly, but I heard there was a colony of Quarians that established on an unreferenced garden world.”

“What?!” shouted Cestus, only for Zal to jump, his hands on the Turian’s face… And, topping him as their united weight pushed Cestus down.

“Keep quiet!”

“But… It’s an unreferenced Garden world!” hissed Cestus. “Do you know how many council rules they’re breaking?”

“And do you know how many council rules Rannoch’s occupation breaks?”

Cestus frowned, his brows dancing. His faceplate even clicked before he growled and pushed Zal’s hands away.

“Why are you throwing that at me precisely?”

“Because,” grumbled Zal. “You were talking about legality. How could I not be… Fine. Forget it.”

The Quarian began to straighten up, pushing on the hard surface on either side of Cestus’ body before the Turian stopped him with one hand on Zal’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

Zal shook his shoulder and straightened himself, though… He remained close, their hips practically touching. And Zal observed as Cestus turned to the sky, pointing it with his chin while his mandibles clicked.

“Forget the legalities and me… Saying that. What would you do there? Settle?”

“Probably. Before everything happened with your bro- Pelagius, I planned to find a wife there and have a family.”

“They have females?”

“Probably more than here, if you get my opinion,” sighed Zal, shaking his head. “But I will probably hide there and be a good techie. At least… That is the idea.”

“You’re not sure?” asked Cestus, intrigued.

“It is mere speculation. When I was in the flotilla, or what remains of it, I heard about that world, but it was described like a dream. Then, I left, tried to survive in Turian space by faking credentials. I wanted to establish contact, but I lacked the credits.”

“It didn’t pan out?”

Zal shook his head, grumbling.

“It could have. But after a while, my IDs were verified by a vigilant guard who conducted a thorough index search.”

Cestus’ mandibles clicked with interest and curiosity.

“Who was that?”

“I don’t know. A police boy who had a ship around the Pylos Nebula. He connected with my ship and directly coined me a smuggler.”

“You were one, no?”

“Not at all!” huffed Zal. “My IDs were fake, but I only took official contracts. To the clients, I was a young Turian ship-runner.”

“Wait. So nobody knew you were a Quarian?”

“A Quarian? Running a ship alone in Turian space? Are you serious, Cestus?”

“I don’t know! I’m not a smu- I’ve never done anything illegal!”

“Wait? You never did anything illegal?”

“Nothing.”

“You never stole a candy?”

“A candy? Why a candy?”

“It’s an expression,” answered Zal with a laugh.

Then, the Quarian shook his head, turning back to the sky.

“Stealing a candy,” huffed Cestus, scooting closer and clicking his mandibles in frustration. “No. I never did anything illegal. My family would kill me for it.”

Zal imagined it. But then, Cestus was back with more questions.

“So, what happened with that border-boy?”

“He checked my Quarian ID first since it was the first to appear on the ship. It appeared expired, so he instantly cuffed me. Then he asked me about the ship and who Keril Captis was. The other ID I had the ship systems.”

“And?”

“I lied. I told him my ‘master’ didn’t care about me and had left me in charge of the ship while he stayed at home on Rannoch.”

“Wait? What?”

“Yeah. It appears it is more common than you’d expect. I was surprised it worked. I thought I was a goner. Instead, the border guy dragged my ship to Rannoch, blocked it in orbit, and forced me to the well to have my ID remade.”

“That’s-“

“Absurd, right?”

“That’s… Surprising.”

Zal raised an eyebrow and turned to see Cestus, his boss, mulling over the details. His quills were moving, his frontal plate twitching.

“Is there a problem?”

“I… No. It’s not a problem,” said Cestus, turning his head away. “I… Always assumed you were … Uh… Upstanding?”

“Me? Upstanding? You always criticized me, telling me I’d steal you,” huffed Zal.

“Because I didn’t want you to do anything stupid. But I didn’t know you’d already done that. That you were a criminal.”

“Cestus. If I chose to, I could have stolen money from your bank account. Plus… You agreed to collaborate with me to help me leave this planet. So you are also committing a crime.”

Cestus took a sharp breath, indignant.

“It is by association! Wait- You are forcing me to commit crimes!”

“Please! Even if you killed Quarians, you’d get a slap on the wrist at best!”

“It’s false!”

“It’s the truth! Have you heard about the Quarians getting killed by their masters? Or even saw the blood sports that are broadcast?”

“Why would I check that?!”

“You subscribed to those channels!”

“Of-… Wait? I did?”

“Yes, you are! You subscribed to everything and nothing,” said Zal, waving his arms. “Bosh’tet! The Turian I’m with is a fucking idiot!”

Zal’s arms dropped, and his expression soured. Even his shoulders fell when Cestus looked away, shaking a bit.

“Sorry. It got out on its own,” grumbled Zal.

“You said the Turian you’re with.”

“Yeah. That’s what we are? You rely on me, and I rely on you,” answered Zal with a huff, feeling how close Cestus was, and then getting red. “Well. That’s… On a logical aspect. In many aspects.”

Zal felt as though he was stumbling over his words as he watched Cestus continuously shake in his corner, his chitin-covered body trembling. And then, there it was. A snort.

“Keelah. Cestus? Are you crying?”

“No,” answered the Turian, though he was crying and shaking his other hand. “I’m not.”

“You are,” answered Zal. “Do you need tissues?”

“Please.”

Zal frowned but stood up. His legs wobbled, but he went for the bag. Cestus’ bag. Half-empty, Zal only had to throw it over his shoulder and come closer. But not without hearing distant discussions, words that were terse and exchanged.

Pelagius and Rectus were coming back.

And so… Zal stepped faster as he approached Cestus, finding the Turian still sitting and wiping his nose.

“Rectus and Pelagius are coming back,” said Zal, feigning not to be disgusted by that green snot while he pulled a pack of tissues and offered them to Cestus.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry…?” asked Zal, raising a brow, still handing the tissues.

Tissues Cestus took before blowing his nose.

“Sorry for being another shitty Turian in your life,” answered Cestus, done. “I must have been like another cunt who ruined your life.”

Zal looked in those eyes, finding an eagerness and something that was… beyond pathetic. Cute, almost? Though Zal sat down.

“Job-wise? You were not the worst. In fact, if not for your shitty computer literacy, I would have gotten the easiest job on Rannoch.”

“H-hey!”

“It’s true,” answered Zal, laughing. “What will you do when I’m gone?”

Cestus didn’t answer, but he held onto the tissues. Even his expression hardened a little while Zal remained watchful. And intrigued.

At least until he heard the jovial exchange between Rectus and Pelagius, ending when they were at camp, and their first action was to ask Zal to come closer and give them a blowjob.

A glance at Cestus, and Zal was gone; fulfilling his ‘duty’ and getting his ‘meal’.

An action that basically ended with Pelagius turning on the batteries in Zal’s testicles and using the charge to zap the Quarian’s testicles, forcing them to spill out the precum marbles that were still inside. Without the nausea, it was practically easy.

And yet, Zal could see Pelagius’ disappointment when the Quarian remained still, about, and hard-working even on Rectus’ staff before the old Turian was, too, done with his ejaculation.

Then, it devolved into another conversation with Pelagius and Rectus exchanging stories with Zal in the middle, leading the Quarian to ask them questions about their common history on space stations before Zal was to be taken by the two, spitroasted…

It took what? Three hours? Three long hours that ended with Zal being sandwiched between the two Turians while Cestus remained on the edge, thoughtful.

Thoughtful yet responding. The day after, Zal asked for more pills, and Cestus answered. Yet, he remained strange and only answered questions, never venturing a word. Cestus appeared to be lost in his thoughts.

Enough that when they finally took camp, this time in a cavern on a mesa’s edge, Rectus was the one to stay to handle the mattress while Pelagius and Cestus were to forage, followed by Senus.

Without a surprise, Rectus asked for a blowjob, and Zal provided, continuing the pace of that camping trip that was becoming a blur of sex, abuse, and sometimes a few discussions in which Zal had little to do and much to listen.

He was as much eye candy for them as a trophy they had to regale and amuse with their gruesome stories until Zal acted satisfied.

But Cestus' sudden change struck Zal… Even as they stood only a few minutes away from the bus stop they were to use.

They had to be clothed to take it. Not to stay by it.

For the occasion, Zal ended with his face pressed underneath Pelagius’ hefty testicles, enjoined to lick and clean the sweat-riddled scrotum and to breathe in the musky air coming from the Turian’s thighs and buttcheeks.

In the meantime, Pelagius was fondling and stroking Zal’s perky nipples, pulling on the teats that were continuously releasing milk. The liquid kept flowing… And Pelagius, far to tire from its taste, was all in licking his own fingers while loudly chuckling and poking fun at Zal.

“I thought I’d needed to add you implants, at first. But those pills are working wonders on you, Zal,” said Pelagius, grinning ear to ear. “Is that right, Dad? You want a mouthful?”

“Gladly,” answered Rectus, the older Turian taking Zal.

With his hands underneath Zal’s knees, the older Turian was practically forcing the Quarian to fold. And so... At the same time, Rectus was bending forward and over Zal’s cum-swollen and Palaven-branded belly to have a mouthful of those tits.

Each time he did so, Rectus unleashed his carnal appetite and bit into the flesh, enough to leave the nipples surrounded by red bruises and hickeys. Something Zal suffered through thanks to the painkillers he’d been given.

As for Cestus, he was on the side, not even masturbating but watching. His expression remained thoughtful, though hints of frustration appeared here and there. Mostly when Pelagius prodded him.

“Hey, Brother! Don’t you want a mouthful of your bitch’s tits? Ah! Sorry, it’s true you prefer to sit on the cuck rock!”

“Fuck off. I’m thinking,” said Cestus, checking on his omnitool.

A reaction that displeased Pelagius as he huffed, growled, and then looked down.

“What about you, Zal? What do you think? You think Cestus should get some milk?”

Zal didn’t answer, too busy licking, huffing, and breathing that Turian funk. But his hands moved, reaching for his belly that was getting bloated by all the spunk pumped in it…

From Rectus, first and foremost. But also Pelagius, who had joined and whose cock was still cum-covered, dripping, and practically weighing between the perky breasts. It rubbed against the soft skin, feeling the gorge that had become not only generous but a perfect tool to please Turians like Pelagius.

Turian, who, through playing with the tits, stroked himself. Pelagius loved that, loved doing it, loved playing with Zal’s chest, exploring it, pinching, pulling, teasing. He gave Zal no room to rest and relax… No stop, no pause between the orgasms that shook the Quarian’s curvaceous body.

Soon, as it always happened after a long, tedious moment of getting his bloated prostate pummeled, Zal came. He hiccuped against Pelagius’ balls, narrowly closing his lips on the balls while, between his legs, his cocklet was delivering one ‘marble’. The surface had a slight blue sheen when it rolled out of the cock due to Rectus’ humping. A blue sheen, Pelagius observed when he picked that marble out of the many Zal had produced, and observed it.

“Imagine… Dad,” said Pelagius between his huffs. “Zal birthed something much larger than that. Three times larger than that through her dicklet. Isn’t it fascinating?”

“B-Brutal to my taste,” answered Rectus, though smiling while having his greasy shaft being suctioned when pulling out.

“Brutal. But efficient. I mean… that’s the issue with Quarian pregnancies. It’s disgusting, messy, and ugly.”

“What do… You know about that?” huffed Rectus, continuously pumping inside Zal’s orifice, stretching it more by sometimes inserting his thumb inside and wiggling it.

“Well. If the treatment works well, our Zal will soon be a happy mother. Though, who will breed her first?” asked Pelagius, grinning.

Rectus huffed, leaning forward to take another lick out of those perky nipples, another mouthful of milk that made the Turian addicted, and then huffed, wiping his face.

“I… Don’t know. Maybe I could stay until she ovulates,” laughed Rectus, passing his tongue over his lips.

“Mother wouldn’t allow you,” laughed Pelagius.

“True. She’d get my crest for that,” replied Rectus with another laugh.

“And it’s not like Cestus would stop me from visiting his wife? Or that she’d refuse if I impregnated her,” chuckled Pelagius, delivering a firm smack on Zal’s tits.

The cry that came was muffled, though the reaction could be seen in the way Zal’s body tensed, and so did his asshole and thighs. Cestus? He raised his eyes and frowned.

“What? You’re not happy your Brother is getting a son? Sure, it’s with your wife. But it’s not like you’re losing much. He’ll be the better son,” continued Pelagius.

“Pelagius,” groaned Cestus.

“What? He’ll have the same dick, the same physique, and not the pathetic. Everything your wife would prefer. Sure enough, I’ll have to prepare him a wife as a good ‘uncle’. But he will gain much more!”

Pelagius gloated and laughed, delivering another hefty smack on Zal’s nipples before he huffed, satisfied. And moved. He lifted his balls off Zal’s face, giving Zal some room to breathe before he ushered that cocktip against the lips… Forcing that spotty cocktip through.

And Zal, too tired, too needy… And too hungry, merely kept his mouth open. He opened wide, feeling the shaft slip through his mouth and inside his throat with such ease.

Such ease that was almost daunting for the Quarian, whose eyes opened wide in that moment of clarity…

All before Pelagius’ nuts smacked against his face, and that cock was fully in, swabbing him from lips to stomach.

“No hard feelings, Cestus, right? I mean. We know you’re enjoying it, even though you’re frowning. Zal told us so. And she wouldn’t lie to her favorite, right?”

A huff answered while Pelagius’ hips thrust and bounced forward, the groin hitting the chin before he pulled back. Slowly, steadily, up until that cocktip was out.

Until… The cocktip practically slipped out, and Zal watched that elongated shaft drip with precum, saliva, and throatslime… A monster that swabbed back, that thrust in, that stretched his throat and narrowly choked him.

Even Pelagius’ fingers, so close to his throat, were dangerous. One push at the right angle, at the right place, and he could choke Zal. But… Even though the claws danced on those veins and arteries, there was… Nothing.

Nothing from Pelagius as he continued to thrust and hit… and smack Zal’s face until bruises appeared on the glabrous face.

Until the precum, and even cum, dripped over Zal’s face and… Another cock was present. No. Not Cestus’. Rectus.

The old Turian was done with Zal’s asshole, and the gaping entrance was practically a crater that dripped with fluid. The white cum flowed free, oozed from the swollen rim and… Yet… Zal felt there was still something happening there. No… Someone was licking him, pleasing him, even inserting that tongue within the deep entrance.

Senus.

Zal’s face burned as the realization hit him. Once more, the Varren was having ‘fun’. It didn’t take any effort from either Cestus, Rectus, or Pelagius.

The Beast, on its own, had decided to use and abuse Zal… And the poor Quarian had no choice but to keep his legs spread and lifted while the elongated tongue slipped inside his asshole, teased his spots… And even hit the swollen prostate.

A mere touch, Zal’s muffled moans came forth.

“See! Even Senus is a better lover than you, Cestus! Aren’t you ashamed?” laughed Pelagius.

“Shut up.”

“I hit somewhere sensible? Please! We all know you’d be losing to a pet! Even if you’re big like Dad, you don’t know how to use it. Hear how Zal moans! Can you do the same?”

Another huff.

“Don’t ignore me! You know it’s true.”

“I’m only listening because Dad wants me to. But you can keep your bullshit to yourself. No one likes you.”

“What do you know? Wasn’t it your ‘wife’ who begged I fucked her? Hmmm?”

Cestus’ huffs came forth. And Zal pushed down the tears and fear that were on his face. He wouldn’t reveal the truth. Cestus wouldn’t break his trust?

The voice came forth, making the Quarian shudder.

“Then… Why do you feel the need to rub it in my face? You want to get a rise out of me? You won’t. Not this time.”

Zal felt a hint of relief hit him. And yet, that relief disappeared when Pelagius’ hands locked on his throat and that cock pushed deeper, faster. Much deeper. Enough that Zal was feeling light-headed.

More so when those fingers were closing on his throat, locking on the soft skin, pressing against it.

“Is that so? And what if I ruin her for good? You’re keeping her for Mother. But I could take her away from everyone. Mother wouldn’t mind, right?”

A tense atmosphere settled, filled with the gargling sounds from Zal and the sharp breaths he was taking.

Sharp breaths that were becoming more intense and distressed as Pelagius’ hands pressed further on the throat. The sound that came turned into a whistle.

“Pelagius. You wouldn’t.”

“Cestus is right. Zal is fun. You wouldn’t do that.”

“I could,” said Pelagius, his voice suppurating with… Anger. “If she dies, we can leave her here. Nobody comes here, and if she’s found, what if? She’s just a Quarian. We’ll say we lost her during trekking.”

“Pelagius. Don’t do that.”

Yet, he was doing it. The pressure mounted, and Zal grew increasingly anxious. Between his legs, the Varren continued to work, but that became an afterthought when his breathing was in danger… As each breath became harder and more painful.

His mouth was filling with saliva as a reflex; his nostrils dilated, and his eyes took on a redder tint.

Numbness was coming.

“Why not? You’ll fight me? The cuck will fight me for his cheating wife?”

“Pelagius. We’re having fun; don’t make it weird.”

“I’m doing what I want. I was the first to find her. It should have been me. But again, Cestus gets what he wants.”

“Are you… Are you fucking jealous?” scoffed Cestus.

“I’m not!”

Zal listened, although a ringing muffled the sounds. A numbness. A weight that was pressing on his body. A sensation of being a living burden. His legs dropped, though the pain didn’t rush through his body. There was a distant growl.

Then there was a cry, a shout… But Zal was trembling, shaking, trembling. Losing touch. Losing… Consciousness.