Spermatosaurus Urges
#4 of The Spermatosaurus Saga
Mohrahk is having some difficult problems at the moment. Waking from the dream was bad enough, but with his body having changed somewhat, he's feeling all sorts of sensitive. Here's hoping that Vasilisa can give him some help...
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Spermatosaurus Urges For Mohrahk By Draconicon
Leaving the house was a bit trickier than he thought. Not only was it nearly impossible to find pants that fit his new balls, but it was harder to put them on. The longer claws were definitely making things more, as one might say, interesting.
The fact that his toe claws were ready to shred just about any footwear he might try wearing didn't help, either, and neither did the fact that his penis was just about ready to punch through his pants. No matter how lightly it touched something, it felt like he was sliding it into some waiting hole, and whatever had caused this transformation was making him want to breed. Badly.
As he left the apartment, he hissed through his teeth. His cock still hadn't gone down, and every step he took made the barbed head rub against the front of his pants. It was so bad that he was already leaking pre, dripping it, soaking the front of his pants. If it hadn't been so late at night, he would have looked positively shameful.
Worst of all, he knew that he couldn't just take a cab there. It was too late at night to get one, and more to the point, they were going to accuse him of some sort of deviancy as soon as they smelled him. It was too late for the public transit, too, which left him only one option.
The sergal grunted as he walked down the cold, dark streets. His feet started to freeze, making him pick up the pace. Then he would start to get exhausted, so he'd have to slow down. Then he'd start to freeze again, which made him pick up the pace once more. It was as annoying a pace as one could imagine, stopping, starting, stopping, starting. Considering he was in a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt, he must have looked absolutely insane.
Yet, he kept moving. If Vasilisa called him out, then it meant that he needed to be there. No excuses.
It took him over an hour to find her place. It was a little house - a house, not an apartment - at the edge of the city, and the Kotyavr had a fire going, judging by the smoke that was coming out of the chimney. He hoped that meant that it was warm inside, but knowing her, it could mean anything.
Including roasting the thing that had controlled him, changed him earlier, he supposed. He shivered at the thought, not wanting to think of her doing something so dark.
He walked up, stomping through the mud of her small yard until he stood on her front porch. Moh lifted his hand -
"Come in."
The voice was faint enough to be barely heard, but firm enough to tell him not to waste time. The sergal lowered his head, pushed on the door, and stepped inside.
It was warm, thankfully, warm enough for him to start breaking out in a sweat almost immediately. He shrugged his shirt off, walking down the hallway. The exterior of the house made the place look small, but he'd been here just enough to know that it was anything but.
The hallway felt like it went on forever. Each side had dark doorways that seemed to lead into rooms that held nothing but black emptiness, and every time he came to visit, he swore that they were some sort of magical portal. They weren't, of course, but the often-pissy, seldom-kind nature of the Kotyavr always reminded him of a witch.
He eventually came to the end of the corridor what felt like minutes later, poking his head around the corner. Vasilisa was seated on the couch, her arms crossed under her breasts, and the room stank of sex.
"Oh, you, uh..."
Moh rubbed the back of his head, finally realizing what the sounds on the phone call must have been. The sergal blushed, even as his cock twitched in response.
"Should I have..."
"No. Get over here."
He stepped out of the corridor. As he took another look at her, he realized that the Kotyavr wasn't wearing her normal clothes. She was wearing a dressing gown, something that was sheer and half-transparent. It made her look more like a rather...erotic sort of woman than her usual intimidating, practical clothes.
His cock jumped in his pants as he smelled the air again, the heat in it, the erotic power that came from her pheromones making him pant. Moh groaned, rubbing his nose, trying to focus, but it was hard.
Sitting down across from her with the fireplace between them, he tried to look anywhere that wasn't sexual. Her face was too intimidating, and the floor was too obvious. He ended up looking at the fire, wishing that it was a bit smokier so that he didn't have to smell her excitement...or his own, for that matter.
With his barbed cock begging for something to fuck, he could feel it twitching like mad in his pants, throbbing, oozing. It was wet and slimy on the inside, and he knew that if he so much as brushed his cock, he would have a lot of laundry to do. The idea of cumming so hard to slime his pants...
So hard that it would make a female pregnant...so much cum that she'd be dripping it for days...
The urge hit him hard, the urge to breed, the urge to rut. He hmmfed under his breath, his fingers closing into fists, his balls churning hard -
Click, click.
Vasilisa snapped her fingers, and he gasped, sitting up straight again. He turned to her once more, thankful for her presence even with the glare she was giving him.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"Don't be sorry. Be better. Now, what happened?"
"I don't know. I just...I was dreaming -"
"What were you dreaming about?"
"...Breeding."
"And?" She gestured. "I need to know more."
"I wasn't me."
That was the part that still scared him, he supposed. Not that the rampant breeding and rape that he had been doing in the dream hadn't been scary enough, but doing it as something that wasn't him should have made him feel better. Not this time. Not when he woke up partially transformed.
He rubbed his hands together, leaning forward in his chair. How did he describe it, really?
"I wasn't me. I saw...heat. Like the movies, the aliens? How they see people, glowing and red?"
She nodded.
"That's how I saw them. Smelled them. They smelled so...so hot," he muttered, the memory sending a shudder down his spine. Even as just a memory, the scent made his cock throb. "I wanted to...to fuck them. To pin them. To breed them."
"Them?"
"Females. All the females."
"Hmmm."
"All the females. Fill them, load them, seed them. Make them drip, make them moan. Little factories for young, breed and breed and fill and -"
Click, click. She snapped her fingers again, snapping him off the track. He'd been drooling, he realized, and he wiped his mouth in shame.
Vasilisa, however, was looking at him with less fear than he expected. If anything, she was looking at him with...interest. Interest, and a definite smirk.
"Perhaps our little adventure in the park will work to my - I mean, our advantage."
"What do you mean?"
"You are infected."
"Yes, you...you mentioned I was. But that it might not be too bad."
"If we get you to a doctor in the morning, it might be enough to slow it down. Maybe. But that's not what I'm talking about."
She smiled as she got up from her chair, and he was all too aware of just how little that robe hid from him. The way she swayed, the way that her tail twitched from side to side in a long, flowing wave that copied her hips as she crossed the room, made him whimper with need. His hands clutched at the chair as much to keep him from doing something as from his own need.
By the time that she stood in front of him, there was no hiding the bubbling pre that was flowing from his cock, the darkness that had already spread over the crotch of his sweats. Vasisila chuckled, reaching down and squeezing it.
"NNNGH!"
That one squeeze was enough to set him off. With a scream, the sergal thrust his hips forward, grinding his cock against her hand. His seed came with a rush, squirting into his pants, then through them, bubbling out in strings of slime and musk. He couldn't stop, even when she pulled her hand back, tumbling off the chair.
Humping the air, he kept cumming, shooting his seed into his pants and down his legs. His cock was in a cloth swamp, getting swampier by the second from the sheer size of his load. Moh swore that his balls were getting drained to nothing, but the explosions of cum just kept coming, not stopping, not slowing.
Only when he lost energy to hump did it stop, and he found himself staring at a puddle of gooey mess beneath him, his balls aching from how much had been pulled up from them. His eyes closed tightly, his cheeks burning in humiliation.
"Sorry...sorry..."
His cheeks burned hotter as he tried to move and failed, falling flat on his face. The puddle squelched beneath him, soaking his belly and crotch even more, and his barbed shaft throbbed all the harder, thrusting against him, his hips trying to move and only failing because of his own exhaustion.
When he was finally able to roll over, he fully expected to see Vasilisa looking at him with pure disgust. She had always been irritable about just how horny he could be as a sergal, let alone as this. If she didn't tell him to leave her, to never let her see him again, he would count himself as grateful.
Instead, when he looked up at her, she was grinning. Grinning. He had never seen the Kotyavr look like that before, and it was...well, more than a little unsettling.
"My goodness..."
She licked her lips like the cat that had caught the cream, squatting down beside him. As she ran her fingers through the mess that he'd left behind, grinding her fingers together and then spreading them apart to examine the strings of mess, he wondered what had made her so happy.
Because she was happy. Ecstatic, even, and it was rather...wrong. Disturbing. And worrying.
"What? What is it?"
"This is definitely more...potent than before."
"So?"
"More potent than the former Spermatosaur, too."
"So what?"
"So? So, you idiot, it's just -"
Vasilisa shook her head, cutting herself off as she got back to her feet. She grumbled, walking off into one of the dark corners of the room, rooting through one of the drawers in a nightstand.
Moh, on the other hand, struggled to roll himself back to all fours. His cock still stung with sensitivity, too eager to get back to fucking and cumming and, well, who knew what else. He moved slowly, not daring to move too quick in case he tweaked his cock again and set it off once more.
By the time that he'd gotten back to his feet, the Kotyavr had returned, holding what looked like a business card in one hand and a couple of notes in the other. He took them both, then looked at her with an eyebrow cocked. She rolled her eyes.
"Must I explain everything?"
"...Yes, most of the time."
"Ugh." She shook her head. "Fine. Go to that address. It's a medical facility specifically for your...special cases."
"You mean for...for people that are getting..."
"No, I meant the people that are fucked by werewolves. YES, I mean people like you."
"Sorry, I just -"
"The money will pay for it. Just tell them that you're paying for registration and extraction today. Understand me?"
He really didn't, but he knew the look on her face. It was the exact look that demanded full and absolute obedience, and he knew better than to defy it.
"Registration and extraction. Understood."
"Good."
As soon as he nodded, she smiled again, leaning in and patting his cheek. Just like that, the anger was gone, and she was being sweet...at least, sweeter than usual. Somehow, that didn't really make him feel better.
The End