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Falling Out and Falling In

Part 5

For NerubianKnight

By Draconicon

The possibilities of Vault B1 meant much to his traveling companions, but to Gruth, it was another hole in the ground that only meant something to the small people. He had no interest in or ability to use anything that was in the hole, which meant that it was impossible for him to feel the same excitement that they felt.

He did, however, find lunch while they were busy, so there were positives to the whole stopping and waiting thing.

As the web-handed Deathclaw nibbled at the carcass of a Mirelurk that had wandered too far inland, he occasionally turned his attention back to the rock wall that housed the hole. So far, nothing from inside, but that was not too strange. He and Axel had worked together long enough to have a system. The capybara would go in, and if he got in trouble in the narrow spaces, he'd send a signal to the DCD - or Deathclaw Control Device - that rested around Gruth's head. Otherwise, it was better to leave it to the small one to take care of things.

He turned back to the corpse. Probably enough meat there to make for a good bit of rations on the trail, the slower parts of his brain said. Could save some of it for Axel and the new one. The smart one, as the Deathclaw had come to think of him.

Hmmph...hmmph...

Decisions were possible, but hard. Though Gruth was smarter than some of his brethren, thinking came slowly to him. It was easier to go with instinct, abiding by a few rules that had long since been burned into his brain, like not hurting Axel or those that Axel designated. Other than that, it would be simple to just do what his instincts told him. Like right now, how they were telling him to gorge, to suck down as much food as possible to fill his gut so that it wouldn't need food for a couple of days, regardless of what it would do to the group.

...Food for them...later...

That was the best that he could compromise. He'd hunt something down for them when they were done here and that would be that. Food over the fire, something that they would like better than a body that had several bites already taken out of it. Particularly with the ooze that he left behind, now that he thought about it.

Satisfied with his generosity to his traveling companions, he resumed his meal.

The mutated crab was soon completely consumed, and Gruth felt the post-meal tiredness settling on him. He flicked the tentacles out of his back, shaking his head as he swayed them from side to side. Feeling through the air wasn't as effective as feeling through the water, but the lengths were sensitive enough that he could feel anyone coming if they were close enough. The air was always awash with signals these days, but the feeling that came from living beings were unique enough to punch through at close range.

Nothing now, though. The Mirelurk had been all he'd needed to be concerned about, and...

Gruth looked back at the hole in the ground again. It had been some time, now. He didn't understand the passing of minutes and hours the way that the others did, though Axel had tried to teach him that more than once. It was too complicated a mechanism for him to work with; all he needed to know was morning, noon, and night for what he did. Yet, for all that it was still 'noon,' even he could tell that the hours were passing, and that they had been down there longer than entirely made sense.

"Hmmph."

The Deathclaw turned to the door. He could fit through, if he had to. It would require bending down and even crawling in places, but he could fit through if he had to find them. Yet, if they were so quiet...what would that mean?

The question lingered, and he had no answer. He rested his hand on the edge of the entrance, considering his options -

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

The familiar beeping of the DCD coming online filled his ears, and Gruth forced himself to relax. The times that he'd fought it, he'd ended up with severe pain through his back and limbs as his muscles fought and failed to push back against the control signals coming from the helmet and collar he wore. He forced himself to breathe through it as it forced him to stand up straight, his mind taking in the intrusive electric blasts and translating them to orders.

He remembered other Deathclaws fighting this, pushing back, trying to hold out against the voices in their head that came from the DCD. They'd ended up fried, their minds turned to something like mush. One had oozed from their earholes as their body jerked and twitched along to various orders that it was no longer capable of fulfilling, but he had learned.

He...

He enjoyed it.

Even as his body started to relax again, slumping forward, he could feel the signals taking control of him, piloting him. Gruth submitted himself to the signals, letting it drag him forward toward the Vault door. The food that he had left behind was forgotten; the need to take care of things was thrown out the window. Anything that left him questioning or fighting the control of the device was a danger, and he wasn't going to do that. The only thing that he could do was get into the feeling.

Even as he slid through the doorway, head hunched and shoulders bowed, he could feel the slow rise between his legs. The ovipositor was slowly coming out, asking for attention, wanting something to play with. He put it out of his mind as best he could, lowering his arms to the ground and crawling along to fit through the narrower hallway, but already, the pleasure was rising, getting stronger by the second.

"Hmmph."

As the control device started to send more regular pulses, including some sort of feeling of a location that he needed to each, the pleasure started to spread. He felt it under his little nub of a tail, inside of him, pulsing and clenching down as if he was already imagining something inside him. It was a reminder of his total helplessness against the device, and in some ways, that only turned him on more.

He growled, he huffed, he chuffed as he moved along. His arms were piloted without his consent as he was made to enter the first main room. He didn't have to look around and figure out where to go. His legs were already turning him, his head moving with the piloted focus of whoever had his control device in hand.

Axel?

The smart one?

He didn't know, but he was a passenger in his own head, dragged along as needed through the Vault and towards his destination.

Further, further, further he went, passing by rooms that didn't make sense to him, and with each step that was forced by the device, the pleasure between his legs grew. The ovipositor dripped, and he growled and huffed, but that was as far as he could take it. He couldn't reach down and adjust it. He couldn't just play with it a bit and see what he felt when he got into it. All he could do was keep moving.

And the pleasure...

The helplessness...

Gruth let himself sink into a mental state that was all too familiar to him after so many times in this headspace. Every time that he obeyed the signal, he got a blast of pleasure, and every time that he submitted to its control, his body felt good. He felt good. Obedience was good.

Forced obedience was better.

"Nnngh..."

Something squirted past his ovipositor, feeding him a signal of utter arousal and making him roll his eyes back for a moment. He stepped in something, some slime, some goo. Pretty sure that it had come from him rather than anything else. Felt good, and made him want to do more to earn more of that.

Obey. Obey. Obey.

The signals pulsed through his head, pushing him on, and each step brought the inner feeling of a pulse, a stroke, a tease along his ovipositor. His inner walls between his cheeks only made it that much stronger, adding to the need to give in and enjoy. He was rumbling, huffing, growling, but any other Deathclaw would have looked at him and thought that he was lost or sick from this. This was...this was utter lust, abandoning thought and freedom.

As he came closer to the final door, he smelled something in the air, and it pushed through the fog that surrounded him from all the rewards of pleasure. The DCD took priority, but there were scents around, smells of the small folk. They smelled not only of body, but of instinct, of pattern. It wasn't like Deathclaw, couldn't penetrate his mind, but there was a feeling of it, an awareness of fear, of lust, and so much more that was deep inside the scent.

He would have snorted if he had been allowed. As it was, he just shrugged it off and stepped into the circular room.

Axel and the smart one were there, but they weren't behaving as they had been on the surface. The capybara was bent over the desk, getting railed from behind by the skinnier griffon while the latter -

The latter turned to him with a sneer on his face that seemed very different from the previous ideas that Gruth had had of the smart one. He had looked perhaps a little more intense in the lab, yes, but this was more...focused, more superior, authoritative. There was something sensual about the cruelty that was implied in the twist in the corner of his mouth than he was used to seeing in those that held his device.

It made his ovipositor lift a little higher in response.

"There you are, you useless thing," the griffin said, chuckling under his breath as he put the device down. "It seems that the Vault has taken possession of a new Deathclaw, and one that knows its place."

He didn't understand what was going on with the smart one, but he was clearly not himself. Indulging, perhaps? Or was he just -

Zap. The DCD hit him with another order, and he fell to his knees. It was an unnatural position for a Deathclaw due to the way that their legs bent most of the time, but it was one that he had learned how to assume due to the proclivities of other species that had control of him. He stared up as the griffin continued railing the capybara, a thick cock going to work between those fuzzy cheeks and the sight of a slippery pucker waiting for someone else to take.

Deep down, Gruth knew that wouldn't be him. He would be something that might clean up afterward, but he wouldn't be the one to take control that way. Not with the smart one.

Or the one that was in charge of the smart one. The scent that the smart one had taken in must have given him different thoughts, different desires, but they were not ones that involved getting fucked by a Deathclaw. That much Gruth could already tell.

"My security chief seems to be at the end of his ropes," the smart one said, the griffin clicking his beak in clear disappointment. "I thought that he had the stamina to keep up with me, but clearly he's been slipping. I'll have to schedule him for some exercise. But look at you. A Deathclaw that had come to submit to his device properly. Come."

He was dragged forward by the command, staying on his knees even as he moved. He fell forward at a button-press, crawling on all fours towards the griffin as he extended one leg. The fluffy toes wiggled, the scent of travel and a hint of musk on them pushing through the fluff-skin smell that he was more used to.

"Suck."

Gruth couldn't have disobeyed if he wanted to, and he honestly wasn't sure that he wanted to. The Deathclaw grunted, his oversized mouth swallowing the toes and most of the griffin's paw without a second thought.

"That's right, monster. If you're going to be useful to more civilized people, like us, then you're going to have to learn how to be useful. Until we can get another Deathclaw for you to seed, you'll just have to learn how to be at our feet...and wherever else we get off on having you, heh."

This was very different to the smart one. Gruth smelled the air again, a surreptitious thing, and felt that the air had changed slightly. The smell that had permeated it was getting weaker, which meant that the smart one and Axel might be themselves again soon. It was relief and annoyance; this was enticing, interesting, and he was curious just where it was going to go.

As curious as the DCD was allowing him to be, at the very least. There was a certain amount of his thought power - of which he did not have much - completely dedicated to following orders and no more.

Lick, suck, lick, suck. The griffin's toes danced along his tongue as the smart one continued to thrust away, ramming past the capybara's cheeks and reaming that hole out and then some. Each time he rammed forward, Gruth could hear the soft smack of flesh on flesh, and the wet slick of previous loads already threatening to come out. They'd been at this for a while, but -

"Mmmph!"

A soft grunt of pleasure followed as he was 'rewarded' with a shock to the pleasure part of his brain, his ovipositor leaping up only to be stood on by the griffin's free foot. Down, down, down, pinned to the floor, milked by two toes rubbing over the tip.

"No. Ooze like a beast. Ooze and drip. If you get me filthy, you will be cleaning it up."

Gruth huffed and kept sucking, pulling more of the griffin's paw past his lips until the full thing was in his mouth. The size difference made it easy, and he knew that it was appealing; the griffin's thrusts sped up to show just how appealing it was.

The Deathclaw remained on his knees, taking on the mix of pheromones from the Vault and the smell of sex from the other two males. The small folk were getting more and more intense with their rut, and his companion was moaning like a bitch. In, out, in, out, the front-row view of that cock popping past that pucker giving him a perfect image of what the griffin could do to him, too.

It wasn't a bad thought. They hadn't gone as far as he would have liked in the previous base, and Gruth could -

Zap. Another little pulse, and it pushed the thought out of his head. Better to suck and thrust, suck and thrust, against paws than it was to think about things.

Soon enough, the capybara moaned, cumming hard and sliding forward. The smart one shoved Axel to the side, his cock covered in cum and sexual slime. No mess, however; there never was, it seemed.

"Disappointing."

Gruth continued to kneel as the griffin pulled his paws back, sitting down in the overseer's chair. There was barely a thought in the Deathclaw's head as he was made to just kneel there, on all fours, looking at the other man. He thought for a moment that there was something else, someone else in front of the small folk, but the image faded as he took another breath. Nothing, nothing but the odd smells in the air.

"You like this, don't you, monster?"

"Mmph."

"You like being used, put to work for the pleasure of more civilized people? Heh..." The griffin chuckled, spreading his legs slowly and letting his balls hang down. Some of the cum from earlier had already stained them, leaving the fluff around the sac damp and dark. "Clean it."

Gruth did as he was told, sticking out his tongue and dragging it along the griffin's thighs. He dragged his tongue from knee to mid-thigh and then to the point where the legs locked with the hips. He traced flesh and fur and feathers along the way, and he tasted the exertion, the sweat, everything.

No hunter should be like this, but that was the cutting joy. For as powerful as he was, for as strong and deadly as a Deathclaw could be, he was nothing but a toy in that moment. Nothing but a dripping, horny, eager toy for someone that could make him do whatever they wanted. If they wanted to fuck his ovipositor, he didn't have a choice. He'd have to allow it, and just go along with it, and -

He dripped as his tongue found those balls, lapping at them from underneath and tilting them towards the back of his mouth. He suckled on them, tasting salty seed and pre-cum on the underside, and not caring. More. He needed more.

Every show of obedience led to more pleasure from the DCD, making him all but purr in his growling way. It didn't matter that it was degrading, save that the degradation added more to the pleasure. More to the humiliation. More to the fact that this shouldn't be what he did, but he was being forced into it.

He swallowed, lightly tugging on the balls, pulling them further past his lips, only to release them wen the griffin ordered it. They popped free, bobbing up and down in front of his lips, showing just how soaked with his spit they were. And the shaft above? Oh, it throbbed all the harder.

The device buzzed again, sending him down once more, dragging his lips along the testicles and pulling them past his teeth. The fangs could have bitten down, shattered that sac to a point where it would never recover. He could have nulled the man right then and there, left the small folk with nothing.

If it wasn't for the DCD.

If it wasn't for the fact that he liked being controlled.

He worshiped those balls, giving them the treatment of a long tongue and a big mouth. Each little touch, each little lick dragged his affection over them time and time again, and he moaned through his growls as his ovipositor continued to dribble and leak beneath him. The constant pleasure that the device forced through his brain due to his obedience made every act of servitude bliss.

"That...that's it...monster..." The griffin was panting. "Give me best. You belong to me. Your body is mine."

It had been some time since Gruth had had anyone that was willing to talk to him like that. Most everyone else had been too clinical, as the smart one had been before, or too friendly. But someone getting rough like this, talking down to him...oh, it had him throbbing, dripping, and sucking with abandon even past what the device commanded of him.

Suck.

Slurp.

Lick.

Each touch, each taste hit him with the sheer musk and sweat that had been clinging to that since the start of whatever the smart one and Axel had been doing. Out of the corner of his eye, he could just make out an injector, probably something that the pair of them had used to keep going this long. It was out, completely out.

The wheels in the Deathclaw's head started turning, thinking of what could be done. Not that he wanted this to stop - particularly as that throbbing, slimy cock over his head was all but washing itself clean with the amount of pre-cum flowing free - but because some part of him knew that they would have to move on eventually. There was no getting around it, and they had to...

Mmmph. The smell of that sac and that cock were still so strong, so good, but the smell of the other stuff in the air was slowly fading. He'd be able to move on, and so would the smart one, soon enough.

"Mmmph, that's it. Now...up..."

He looked up, half-expecting to be turned to face that cock, but instead, he was taken further. His head was pulled upward, dragged sideways, tilted toward the console. He was leaned back against it, his body moving without his command, until he had his legs spread and his back against the machines, his tentacles hanging down and supporting his back as he got 'comfortable.'

The griffin stood up, his cock throbbing, spitting pre-cum through the air as it landed here, there, everywhere. He grabbed Gruth by the ovipositor, stroking it roughly, the tip of his cock resting against the tip.

"Yes, that's it, beast. You little monster, gushing with all this slime. You know what you are. You know what you need. A little fuck-slut like you is nothing but a breedable little whore, aren't you?"

"Mmmph..."

"You can't even say that I'm wrong. Even if I deactivated that, you'd stay right there."

Gruth blushed as much as a Deathclaw was capable of blushing, trying to shake his head and failing. It felt too good, too hot, and he huffed and panted and moaned as the tip of that cock kept teasing the head of his ovipositor. Each little thrust hit him with another burst of pleasure, and he only kept himself pinned in place because of the DCD. If he had been free, he would have been humping forward, all but swallowing that fat dick into the long, slimy thing between his legs, fucking himself against it like...like...

"Yes, you little whore. You're going to get seeded properly, and then...then you're going to start carrying some new eggs. Hybrid eggs, things that we can use for the Vault's betterment."

Impossible, some part of him knew, but that didn't stop him from loving the thought of it. A massive burst of slime oozed from inside his pulsing appendage, bubbling up and out -

Squelch.

Gruth tried to roar, but the DCD kept his mouth all but wired shut as the griffin slammed his cock down his ovipositor's slit. Deep, deep inside that thing went, and the sensation was all the more potent as the small one held his shaft in place with one hand. Each thrust down spilled more of the slimy goo from within, ruining the floor, sliming it up with more and more ooze that made the whole room stink of sex.

In, out, in, out, each time spreading him open a little bit further. The feeling of helplessness and the rough use only pushed the Deathclaw closer to an orgasm, but with his ovipositor plugged, there was no getting the good stuff out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

His body was held pinned by the power of the DCD, and there was no making it move, no getting the pleasure faster, no trying to thrust against that hand and the plugging flesh. All he could do was lay there, getting used...getting fucked...getting filled.

The griffin leaned forward, resting his hand on his chest. There was a sadistic smile on the small one's face, but tiredness, too. The stimulants from the injector must have been running out, and he could feel the raw need building to its climax. The smell in the air was shifting, too, becoming less irresistible, more focused on the end point.

In, out.

In, out.

"Feel that?" the griffin hissed. "Going to fill your ovipositor up soon. Leave all those eggs inside you marked with my seed. You will be the property of the Vault, and every time the heat takes you, you'll think of me."

"Mmmph..."

"Every time that the other Deathclaws come for breeding...every time that the females raise their tails for you...you'll think back to me. You'll know what you need...what you loved most...and you'll come back...begging for it."

If he could have cum right then, he would have. The constant stretch, the feeling of his ovipositor being squished down, feeling the pressure of the griffin's fingers tightening around him and squeezing his shaft as tightly as it was - he was nearly a fleshlight for the other man at this point - was too good. It was so deep, so strong...He...he...

"Take it...take it like the beast you are...rutting piece of meat!"

And then, the smart one bottomed out. He held his cock deep, and Gruth felt the splatter that followed shoot right into his core. If he hadn't been fully restrained by the DCD's control, he would have roared with pleasure. Instead, all he could do was let out a low rumble of utter satisfaction as the feeling of hot seed splattered inside. More than he expected, too, considering the size of the small one.

Pulse.

Pulse.

Pulse.

And then it was done. The griffin huffed and growled over him, still buried up to the hilt, but the spasming stopped. The small one looked down at him, eyes glazed, no longer burning with the same domination and hunger that had been there mere moments before. Gruth groaned as the other male slowly pulled back, dragging his cock free until it popped out of the improvised hole.

"There...now...keep it in, and...and..."

The smell had changed further. No more of the pheromone smell was in the air. It must have worn off, or stopped getting pumped in. Either way, it meant that the whole ride was over. There was nothing more to worry about.

"Put the Security Chief in his quarters...and..."

There was a moment. Gruth saw the griffin's eyes change slightly, one of them slightly more aware of the world than it had been. The next words came out in a quieter, more focused, less aggressive tone.

"Put us both to sleep, and then sleep yourself."

That was all that the Deathclaw needed to hear. He brought his tendrils forward, brushing them over both the half-aware capybara and the swaying griffin. They were both left swaying the moment that he pulled them back, and within seconds, the pair of them were falling over, drifting to the ground and hitting it hard. They were out cold, probably with a small headache in the case of the smart one, but he supposed that was something that they would just have to deal with after going through everything that they had done.

And without him, to boot.

The other commands took hold, and he reached down, picking them up and throwing them over his shoulders. There was no information to be found of where the Security Chief was supposed to go, but he had time. He had plenty of time.

And doors were no boundaries to Deathclaw strength.

Thump, thump, thump he went through the Vault. There was nothing to fear in the halls, and there was nothing waiting in the various empty rooms. He kicked doors down that were still up, checking plates on the inside and the evidence of the former inhabitants where he could. Here, the room of a chief scientist. There, a room for a security officer. There, a subject that had been left to die in bondage.

Interesting, that one.

Eventually, however, he found the proper room, and he laid the capybara down on the bed. Axel did not respond as he was tucked in, but considering he was dosed up on the various chemicals that were trapped in the tentacles, that was expected. Gruth made sure that he wasn't about to roll out of bed, took the various weapons that he had on-hand away, and turned to take the griffin to another room.

The smart one had not been very smart this time around, and he imagined that the other one would wake up with something of a headache and sore genitals. That was something that had happened with him and Axel once, when they had found other stims that had made them last longer. There was a certain similarity to being drunk: you could keep going for a very long time, but that didn't mean that the body didn't pay the price for it when it finally wore off. He imagined, in his slow, lizardly way, that the capybara would be more than a little sore under the tail for a few days.

The smart one, however...

He glanced over his shoulder. Even now, the 'smart' one was snoozing away, but his cock continued to dribble ever so slightly. It had been productive back at the other place, too, where the green lights and the warm glow had settled on everything, but this was upping the flow. Perhaps the Wasteland was doing more with its radiation than just making the griffin sick.

It would be interesting to see if he became more fertile. The pleasure that he got from spending time with Axel was significant, but there was so much more that would be enjoyed if he had a second partner.

Once more, he wandered the Vault. Here and there, he found a radroach that had wandered in, squashing it underfoot without a thought and barely with any intent. They were so small and pathetic that there was little point in putting them in their place, and the DCD only allowed him that little bit of leeway to ensure that the controllers were kept safe. Other than that, they were ignored.

Eventually, he found a second bedroom, one that was marked with the Overseer's symbol. That was a sign that was all but drilled into his head, and he would never mistake it for another. There was too much in his past that kept it there.

"Mmmph."

He paused, looking back at the griffin. There was a hint of consciousness returning to his face, and he interrupted it with a simple touch of one tentacle. Brushing it over the open beak, the griffin dropped back to sleep in seconds, leaving the hallway silent once more.

Highly resistant...

Gruth wondered if he would be allowed to remember that. He didn't know what would come through after the DCD shut him down for a while; sometimes, it kept his memories in trust, and other times, it erased them, leaving behind nothing but the memory of obedience. And sex. Usually a lot of the sex.

He growled, feeling a vague hint of need still between his legs. The ovipositor still dripped with the slime that had been left behind, more of the griffin's than his own, but he ignored it. The orders told him to keep moving, and that meant that he would keep doing that.

He laid the griffin down on the bed. The slumbering scientist just slumped into the mattress, head up, arms out to the side, clearly completely unconscious. And yet, there was still something about him that seemed stressed, that seemed unwilling to entirely let go.

Tentacle touch after tentacle touch followed, pushing him deeper into that state of sleep until there was nothing left of the tension and stress that he had been so surprised to see. It was not out of kindness, though. Gruth could feel that, and often did towards Axel and others of his own kind, but there was not enough association with the smart one to feel the same just yet. Instead, it was a means of ensuring that he would stay safe through the night, and that orders would be followed.

His last act of service was met with a burst of pleasure that rippled down his spine, all but forcing him over the edge. Gruth did the smart one a kindness by turning to face away, his hips thrusting forward as both the griffin's spent seed and his own fluids came rushing out in a torrent. Burst after burst flowed out the door in long, gushing ropes, spilling and splattering over the metal floor as it went.

Panting, huffing and puffing, he felt the tiredness of the DCD shutting him down. He was going to fall over any second, and the only thing that he could do was find which direction would be the best one to fall in. He tilted himself toward the doorway, made sure that he was angled right, and surrendered to the abyss of dark oblivion. Sleep claimed him and dragged him down, and he smiled as he hit the floor.

Out.

Cold.

A slow smile covered the Deathclaw's face as dreams took him away...dreams of the happy times...dreams of the many ruts...dreams of good, forced, breeding...

The End

Summary: A little bit of POV from Gruth, as he is taken under control and brought into the Vault.

Tags: M/H, M/M, Paw Worship, Foot Fetish, Fallout, Slime, Ooze, Ovipositor, Fucking, Anal, Deathclaw, Griffin, Capybara, Submission, Body Control, Orgasm, Cum, Size Difference, Series,