FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 1

Ah, the colony ship Prometheus, colossal and old enough to somehow feel as if it were lumbering through space despite travelling at faster-than-light speeds. Their destination was simply so far away that even at impossible velocities that warped the very space around the ship, the journey still took a long time. Years upon years, in the end. The people were growing restless over their long isolation from nature, from air that wasn't recycled, from food that wasn't grown in artificial greenhouses, but the light at the end of the tunnel was finally visible. Soon, they'd finally reach that fabled destination; the Magellanic Cloud, in which a new habitable planet had been discovered.

Yet, not all was well. The ship was in a flurry of activity as the hundreds of thousands of lightyears fell into mere thousands, and then hundreds. In addition, the instant they had entered the satellite galaxy's periphery, the ship had received a cryptic transmission in a language nobody from the leadership had seen before, one not described in any history book. Not to mention one crucial, terrifying yet equally exhilarating fact: no known technology could transmit a message to a ship currently exceeding the speed of light. After all, how could it? The ship was faster than any signal, only travelling as such because it cheated, compressing vast stretches of empty space by means of immense generated gravity rivalling that of black holes.

That meant, in short, that the message was not human in origin. Thankfully, the ship's scientists and techrunners had been able to decrypt the language; it was not meant to be obscured, after all, having been deliberately sent to the ship.

The message included two parts. A welcome, of sorts – “Your arrival will be welcomed" – and a guide to manufacturing a “disease prophylactic" for their destination planet. The doctors quickly deduced that it was a vaccine, a more advanced type of RNA vaccine that appeared to propagate through the body rather than remaining purely at the injection site. In effect, it rewrote the host's DNA to, as the message claimed, resist otherwise lethal local microorganisms.

That part of the message had never reached the ship's general population. A few in the medical team had taken it upon themselves to test the substance on their own bodies, and a few days later, they had concluded that it was indeed what it was purported to be. Everyone else, of course, lacked the expertise to question their judgments. Quickly, all but the “welcome" part of the message was forgotten, or hidden away, as more and more people were given the alien vaccine.

And now, they were almost there.

Tristan and Marshall, father and son, had taken the first ship out of two to the Magellanic Cloud. Their wives and Tristan's other son were on the second, a few months behind them. Though a little disappointing, in a way, Tristan and Marshall had decided to see it as them making sure the planet was actually safe. That way, the second ship could turn around before landing, if it wasn't. If there was some horrid species ready to devour them on the planet's surface. Both the Prometheus and Gaia – the second-wave sister ship – had enough fuel for a journey there and back again.

Marshall was just waking up. He groaned as he opened his eyes and realized he was still on the accursed ship, the sterile whites and anodyne metal surfaces downright irritating to his senses after this long. In his dream, he'd been on a lush planet, in a hammock, being served drinks by women both human and… less so. He was married, but this long in celibacy certainly had a tendency to make the mind wander. His had ended up on aliens, it seemed. He kept wondering what alien humanoids might look like, should they encounter any. The chances were almost nonexistent, but he pictured green-skinned women, perhaps with more than two breasts, a pair of antennae and tails. No, he didn't know, but the illustrations conjured by the bored, idle mind were often equal parts silly and titillating. For all Marshall knew aliens might as well be sentient bags of gas and tentacles, which was far less appealing a proposal.

Unless they had tits, perhaps…? No, Marshall shook his head, snorting at the bizarre directions his half-asleep mind pulled.

“Finally getting up, are we?" Tristan asked, already sitting by the table in the center of their cabin with two cups of coffee. One, he was already sipping from. “Remember, we have some stuff that needs doing today."

“Y-yeah?" Marshall yawned, feeling as if he was about to dislocate his jaws with how wide it was. “God, I slept so deeply. Barely remember if it's today or a month ago. Or a month in the future. Fuck. This. Ship."

“Yeah, ain't that the truth," Tristan chuckled. “The days really blur together here, don't they? Oh well, we'll be in the cloud in a week or so. That's why they wanted us to get those boosters."

Marshall forced himself to sit up. The air felt freezing after a “night" under the blankets. Not that nights really existed in space. Everything was constant darkness despite the star-studded expanses seen through every window. Well, it had been. Now, as they finally approached their new home, a new sun was beginning to illuminate the ship with reinvigorating natural light.

At least the father and son had a good relationship. Anything else would've made the time without their partners completely unbearable.

“So, boosters. Is that just the flu shots and such?" Marshall asked. He sat down by the table and grabbed his own cup, inhaling deeply of the rich coffee aroma. All synthetic, of course, but acceptable. Thankfully the ship carried plenty of earth-seeds to plant upon landing, and then he could finally have real coffee again. For now, this would have to do.

“No, as in, a general immunizer. That new technology. Remember what it was they said? The thing they announced that'd basically supercharge your immune system," Tristan replied.

That much had indeed been shared. The specifics, not so much.

Marshall took a mouthful of coffee as Tristan finished explaining. “Right? Because we don't really know what awaits us on the planet, except whoever sent that message."

They weren't aware of the particular recipe that the message had included. But then, the tainted recipe was not meant for everyone. The leadership of the Prometheus had quickly chosen a strategy. The men would receive the corporation's own universal immune booster, human-made and proven to be safe at least within a 10-year timeframe – any cancers or disorders developing after that time were not considered to be related – and the women would receive the xeno-shot.

“Why" was not specified, nor was it important, according to the leadership, who had all already been vaccinated. And so, they were the only ones to know about it, along with very few scientists and doctors who had been allowed to know. All of them were also already vaccinated. It was only afterwards that they decided it'd be easier to vaccinate all the women first and let them lead the effort.

Marshall finished his coffee, stretched, and stood up. “Better get to it, then, I guess. God, I remember the last time I got any kind of booster…"

It had knocked the younger man out for almost a full day with shivers, fever, and aches. But there was no way around it, and whatever side effects it might come with were all better than sudden excruciating death by some alien microbe. Thus, the father and son dutifully headed to the medical deck to receive their boosters in turn, but as they arrived, the receptionist looked confused.

“This is… who exactly?" she said, staring a hole through Marshall. “The documents say you were traveling with your wife. Where is she?"

Tristan furrowed his brow. “It's been years."

“Yes?" the receptionist asked. She had a kind of far-away look in her eyes, as if struggling to think at all, and on top of that, she looked like she'd gotten dressed while still asleep, her blouse threatening to slip off her generous chest. “What do you mean?"

“I mean we applied to have the record corrected a week after takeoff! It's just me and my son-“ he pointed at Marshall. “-on this ship. Our wives are on the Gaia. They got delayed. I've been very clear and forthcoming about this!"

“Oh. Well, we have no record of such a correction, but we have two immunization shots here. As your son would share your wife's DNA to an extent, we will give him hers," the receptionist explained, sounding as if he she was reading directly from a teleprompter that only she could see.

“Thanks. And have a cup of coffee or something, please," Tristan commented, biting his lip to keep from making a much worse comment. Had they really thought he was here with Amanda for years? He was plenty familiar with bad bureaucracy, but this was an entirely new level of incompetence.

Either way, they sat down in separate rooms, and both received their shots. A quick jab, the same as always, with neither man really knowing what they were injected with. But so far, they'd not gotten sick from the boosters, and so, not knowing that Marshall's DNA was quickly being reconfigured in an exponential cascade of change, they returned to their cabin. Usually, the boosters made them too tired to work the same day.

“I do really wish she was here, though," Marshall yawned. He was starting to feel tired. “Mom, I mean. And my wife too, ideally."

“Yeah, I've missed her every day of every year. But at least it won't be long now. We're landing soon, and then, well… they'll only be a couple months behind, if everything goes well," Tristan replied with a weak grin.

He and Marshall both settled in for a lazy afternoon mostly spent napping, and initially didn't notice when the door to their cabin was locked shut remotely as part of the leadership's new, alien-influenced plans. After all, the infection had to spread. Initially, they had expected all women to infect the men in turn, but for Tristan and Marshall, it made little difference since the two shared a cabin. Any morphological changes that happened to the son due to the “female" shot? Unimportant. What mattered was the new species spreading as quickly as possible so that any remaining humans would be too few to threaten the planet's alien natives.

As they laid down to rest, though, Marshall was already feeling feverish. Not unusual with the boosters; he couldn't tell the difference between the normal reaction from his immune system and the sensation of his body being remade. The aliens were an infectious species primarily; they transformed others into their own. This rarely fully changed the victim's mindset, rather realigning it with the priorities of the rather bizarre creatures. They could breed, but almost never did so with each other; only with the species they conquered. Humans weren't their first victims, but before them, the species had lain dormant for centuries waiting for more hosts. And this time, they'd find a way off their planet.

But of course, Marshall didn't know any of this. He only knew that his body was growing itchy and uncomfortable, especially around his groin this time. He hadn't done anything improper while on the ship, and as such, it was easy to fully blame the booster shot. But as he writhed and squirmed over the fever-soaked day, changes were happening. First, unseen ones. Then, ones that'd leave him visibly changed forever.

Initially, his father felt much the same. But he, having received the normal shot, recovered quickly. When he tried to exit the cabin to fetch a drink, however, he quickly realized that the door was locked, and nobody responded either to calls or his attempts to bang on the door. Then, as he tried to rouse his son from his feverish slumber, he recoiled as he realized just how warm the younger man felt. He was burning up, and nobody responded to his emergency calls. And no matter his attempts to cool Marshall down, nothing seemed to work. Half-comatose, the young man continued his transformation.

By now, of course, everyone knew that there was something seriously wrong on board of the Prometheus. Every couple had been locked into their quarters, one of each having received the transformative “vaccine".

While Tristan restlessly, helplessly paced around the cabin, trying to figure out a way to get out through the reinforce metal walls or doors, his son began to stir once again. Only now, Marshall felt different. Sharper. Lustier. Between his legs, the itchiness had grown to where it was unbearable, but he'd only been vaguely aware of his formerly hefty cock slowly shrinking, melting away, along with his balls. It wouldn't be necessary for his new role as a broodmother, even if only as half female. The serum cared little for the specifics, but what it did require was a womb, and a willing hole for that womb to be deeply inseminated through.

That had been the point where his experience turned from suffering to something strangely pleasurable. The itch had gone, and instead, he'd perceived a wet tingliness between his legs begin to grow instead, even through his hazy consciousness. Then, an emptiness, as the newly formed slit began to deepen; a wonderful sensation of being filled at first replaced by a gnawing hollow sensation. Like he needed something inside him. The feeling was both exhilarating and terrifying; feeling his new half-alien sex soak his boxers with pheromone-soaked desire. And when his eyes first snapped open after days spent in the throes of his transformation, his gaze first landed on his father, accompanied by an instinctive clench somewhere deep inside his changed body.

The first that Tristan himself sensed of his son's transformation – as far as he was a son at all, now – was a pleasant, alluring scent that lingered in the air. Then, he finally noticed that Marshall was awake.

“Oh, thank god," he exclaimed, rushing to embrace his son. “I thought you were done for! We've been locked in here for days, I have no idea what they-“

Marshall leaned in to plant a wet, warm kiss on his father's lips. His genitals weren't the only thing that'd changed. Like all of the alien hybrids, there was a venomous barb on his tongue that would quickly infect others in turn. Tristan, though, recoiled before he could use it.

“Marsh? What's wrong with you?" he sputtered, jumping onto his feet. Marshall followed with a confident, seductive sway of his hips. With each step, as his arousal grew, he looked a little less human, his body covered in something akin to glistening chitin or scales. The new form looked utterly alien and yet recognizably humanoid, bar for the large, glassy eyes, and stiff tentacles or horns that grew out from somewhere near his chin.

“Oh, nothing. I've just never realized how beautiful and virile you look, dad," he rumbled. As he walked, he eased his pants, soaked with both sweat and his new, feminine lust, off. That left Tristan staring at his new, puffy, and visibly dripping wet folds.

“What- what has-“ he stuttered, unable to fully articulate a single thought. He knew perfectly well his son was an average male, having taken care of him since birth. And yet, here he stood, looking more like some bizarre alien, with a perfect and wet pussy between his legs, wanting to fuck him.

In a way, he wanted it too. It was the scent in the air, burning in his nostrils. A fragrance of pure carnal lust and scorching desire that left his cock swelling fully against his will. Swelling with desire for his son and that beautiful cunt that was practically begging for his cock.

Tristan shook his head. No, there was something wrong. Some kind of intoxication or hypnosis. He was not attracted to his son, even if he had a pussy. Marshall was sick, and his desires were wrong, he-

As he was struggling with the flood of perverted thoughts filling his head, Marshall tackled him again, and this time, into bed.

“It'll be alright, dad. We'll have such beautiful offspring after you breed me," he whispered, and then pressed those plump lips against his once more, forcing his head down against the bed with surprising strength. Tristan was still bigger than Marshall, but just as he prepared to push him off, he felt a sudden sharp sting of pain inside his mouth.

The tainted vaccines were a flawed and imperfect human replica. They took a while to work, in the best case. The aliens' barbed tongues were full of the original venom, concentrated and typically much faster.

“Shh, shh. There you go," Marshall purred as his father's eyes rolled back and he slumped back onto the bed. “Just relax. I'll help myself in the meantime."

Tristan felt warm beneath him, his body temperature spiking as the same transformative fever overcame him, and Marshall was overjoyed to find his cock eagerly growing hard and springing out the moment he unbuttoned and tugged down his father's pants. He still didn't fully understand what he was doing; only that he had to follow these tainted desires to their natural conclusion. Had to. His body ached for the beautiful cock in front of him, the rigid shaft and the bloated purple glans, the heavy balls that'd already sired so many lives. He had to have it all inside him. He had to mate, to breed, to spread!

Without any hesitation or holding back, Tristan impaled his changed body on his father's thick, potent cock, and began to ride with frenzied, shuddering need. His pussy seemed to mold itself to every inch of him, perfectly holding him inside. The tentacle-horns stretched out and shivered jaggedly with excitement, a series of sharp trills and clicks leaving his increasingly mandible-framed mouth as he moved, determined and focus only on one thing; the sweet, warm release of his father's seed inside his incestuous, corrupted cunt.

Yes! He needed it. Needed him to make his belly swell. He clenched wildly, riding faster and faster as Tristan squirmed and groaned, half with pleasure and half with feverish transformation-sickness. Oh, he'd understand soon enough, if the pleasure alone didn't convince him. Already he felt bigger and thicker inside his fertile alien depths than he had when he first sank down on him. Yes, more! More!

“Breed me," Marshall choked, his voice barely sounding human at all anymore. It was like crumbling paper or splintering wood, with a wet undertone of saliva-soaked chitin rubbing against itself. A sound of pure carnal joy. He had already soaked Tristan's crotch with his juices, rich and plentiful, the entire world a mess of lust and need, all concentrated on that singular itch inside his new womb. An itch that his father would soon sate and soothe.

“Breed me!" he repeated. “Breed your fucking son!"

By now, Tristan was gone, mostly. His mind was awash in pleasure. All he was really aware of was a growing need to spill his seed in the warm, wet tightness that kept milking his cock. Instinctively, his fingers gripped onto his son's hips, digging into his chitinous form. There was the briefest hesitation, a kind of anxiety about what the creature atop him actually was, and the fact that he was about to impregnate his son, but it was all diffuse and blurred amidst the haze of lust.

He groaned. Marshall replied with a pleasured cry as he felt Tristan's cock swell inside him, then lurch, and finally let loose a powerful jet of sticky heat against some unknown parts of him. Each squirt tickled and soothed, and the sensation of being inseminated almost instantly pushed him over the edge, alien chitters and grunts spilling from his lips as his body convulsed with pleasure just the same way a human's might, that strange drooling slit between his legs milking and clenching in orgasmic rhythm, ensuring that every drop of Tristan's incestuous sperm was deposited deep inside him where it could take root.

He had a planet to populate, after all. A species to propagate. Many, many humans to convert. Even in the throes of his orgasm, he felt immensely grateful that he'd been granted this lusty blessing. Marshall remained atop Tristan until his cock had stopped pulsing, until not even his firm clenching could stop that precious seed from oozing out of him. Only then did he dismount, rolling onto his back to let his father's swimmers soak deep into him while what'd once been Marshall – a plain, married human man – hissed with pleasure as he willed his body to conceive.

Only then did the doors to the cabin open, both of its inhabitants successfully infected. By then, it was time for the Prometheus to land on the new planet, but it wasn't to colonize the planet for humanity. In those few days of lockdown, some ninety percent of the ship's population had been converted into carnal, half-insectoid aliens that merely looked mostly human as long as they could resist the urge to breed.

Chapter 2

A few months later, the Gaia landed on the planet, where the crew of the Prometheus had established a new small city with the ship's auto-constructors. The former ship had been turned into homes, into infrastructure, and part of its FTL engines repurposed into two small starships that the colonists could use to scout if they had to. Every colony ship was the same; once the journey was done and a foothold secured in a new world, most of the ship's systems consumed themselves to build a proper home for the settlers.

The Gaia would meet the same fate, but for now it was intact, and unlike its predecessor, this ship had received no strange messages, nor even a greeting from those who came before. Still, aboard it, watching as the surface of the planet came closer and closer, Cole – Marshall's younger brother – awaited anxiously along with Tristan and Marshall's wives, Amanda and Jennie. The normally beautiful women were looking perhaps a little worn and tired after this long in space, flowing blonde locks tangled and their expressions exhausted, but regardless, the promise of soon meeting their loved ones again was a wonderful thought. Cole himself could hardly wait to see his brother and begin to build a future for himself. A family, perhaps, on this new planet.

Seen from the ship's windows during the landing, the planet had looked perfect. Every bit as beautiful as the scientists had theorized, with vast jungles and verdant plains. Long-distance cameras revealed trees heavy with alien fruit and deep oceans full of strange lifeforms. What they didn't see from their vantage point was any sentient life. The city – in stark white, just as the colony ships were – loomed in the distance. It was small by earth's standards, but still home to thousands of what had been meant to be one of humanity's new footholds among the stars.

Even the promise of simply getting off the ship felt like a miracle. At that point, Cole in particular would've been happy to get dumped in the ocean. Anything to get off the Gaia. Of course, that was without him knowing anything about what'd actually happened aboard their predecessor, and instead expecting the new city to be as it'd been planned to be. There was a bit of concern among the crew about the lack of communication from the planet. Typically, they'd expect to be hailed by the previous crew, but no such communications were sent out. Yet there hadn't been any reports of anything terrible either, nor did the ship's sensors detect anything out of the ordinary. Indeed, the city had been deployed exactly as planned.

They were greeted, upon landing, by the previous wave of colonists. Cole immediately rushed to give Tristan a hug. Even seeing the old man again was a joy after this long apart. As a kid, he'd felt utterly fed up with him, but now, well, absence makes the heart grow fonder, as they said. Everything seemed to be perfectly normal. The city, though new and hastily constructed from the material of the Prometheus itself, was just as expected. Almost idyllic, in this temperate part of the planet, currently in summer, warm enough and rich with oxygen and alien flora that would take them many months or even years to ensure was safe for human consumption.

“Where's Marshall?" Cole eventually asked, as Tristan led them to their temporary home in a large hall built for newcomers, halfway between a hostel and a hotel. He hadn't seen his brother yet, and he was perhaps the single person Cole had looked forward to meeting the most.

“Oh, probably still sleeping," Tristan smiled reassuringly. “We're still in the process of establishing industry and farming. You could go fetch him from his house for the welcoming party."

There was a dark edge to his grin, as if it was forced by some outside influence. A rigid, corpse-like smile that Cole never noticed, excited as he was to meet everyone else, and perhaps most of all, to finally be off the massive spaceship. Soon, that one would be turned to buildings and scrap too, leaving the colony with only a couple of small spaceships for emergencies. Not to worry, they'd been told. The part they'd settled had little in the way of volcanic activity, nor did storms pass through the area.

Cole nodded, and Tristan pointed out Marshall's house. It was, like all the others, made of the leftovers of a great colony ship, and thus quite unlike anything one might find on earth. Half-spherical rather than shaped like a box with a roof, with curves that'd once served aerodynamics now repurposed for collecting drinking water from the rain. Cole headed over, marveling at how alive the new, nameless planet seemed. Everywhere around him, some alien creature or another – some like insects, some like birds, and even some larger shapes in the distance – were moving, chirping, making noises. The only thing the planet lacked, or so he'd been told, was sentient life.

He didn't know it then, of course, but Cole had already met the planet's true masters, only they were unlike any species on earth. The fact that the city was more populated than it should be, housing more people than had even been on the Prometheus to begin with, never really registered to him in those fateful few hours.

Things only got strange once he reached Marshall's home. Nobody answered as he knocked on the door, but why that was, was quickly answered by the sound of the shower going. It was miraculous how quickly modern technology allowed humans to establish even luxuries like clean, running water, Cole mused. He opened the door regardless, and stepped inside. Marshall was his brother, after all, and they'd seen each other naked plenty of times, sharing everything back on earth.

As he stepped inside, though, he was a little concerned about finding food wrappers strewn all over the home. Various supplies from the ship that'd soon no longer be needed as they got their footing, so Marshall eating them wasn't the problem. It was the fact that his home looked more like an animal's den, everything strewn haphazardly all over the place. If there was one thing Marshall, for all his flaws, had never been, it was a messy person. The opposite, rather. He was a bit of a neat freak, which instantly made Cole feel as if something was seriously wrong. It wasn't just packaging, either. Everything, from clothes to tools, had simply been dumped out. He picked up a small canister. Self-defense spray, meant to ward off any hostile wildlife. Why had everything been left here?

Absent-mindedly, Cole slipped the spray into his pocket. If someone stepped on it, it might discharge and render the house unlivable for days. Not the kind of thing you wanted on your floor. The more he looked, the more concerned he grew. There were already stains here and there, and there was a distinct musky scent in the air, too. He could, perhaps, understand why someone would instantly choose to have wild and unrelenting sex for a few days after the relative celibacy aboard a colony ship, but at the same time, not even bothering to clean up after himself was not what the Marshall he knew would've done. Something was wrong with the whole situation.

Just as he was about to get up and go express his concerns to their father, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Yet as he turned around, Cole found himself face to face with a woman – no, not a woman, a feminine… man. It took him a good few seconds to realize he was staring at-

“-Marshall?" he stuttered. The person in front of him had a pussy, and “he" was far more feminine than Cole could remember Marshall ever being – more so after giving birth in just a few short months – but there was a striking resemblance, and a familiar glint in his eyes.

And he smelled wonderful.

Marshall circled around behind him, and Cole, as conflicted and confused as he was, didn't turn around. He placed his hands on his brother's shoulders, kneading them firmly. “Maggie, now. I think it suits me better. Sister, or brother. Both would be accurate," she, looking more feminine than masculine now, murmured. She pressed himself against her stunned brother.

“D-does dad know about this?" Coles stammered. It was hard to even think this close to Marshall- “Maggie". He'd heard of pheromones, of course, but-

“-Dad was the first one I transformed. Oh, they granted us this wonderful blessing on the ship," Maggie crooned. Her hands felt increasingly hard and slick as they pushed under Cole's t-shirt, and then, teasing at the edge of his pants. “And he gave me so many powerful new warriors. Mm, they'll be ready soon. Ready to help the rest of you adapt. Mm, dad's probably already fucking your Jennie full of more of us. And you will be doing it to me."

That last word was a hiss, accompanied by her hand grasping the bulge forming at the front of Cole's jeans, and squeezing it roughly. It was pure chance that left Cole glancing downwards. The sight of her hand – a pale sickly green of chitin and Gigeresque outgrowths – snapped him out of the lusty pheromone-induced trance. Maggie wasn't expecting any resistance, and let out a chilling cry as Cole roughly shoved her backwards and into a wall. She stumbled over a pile of discarded clothes, fell among the food packaging with a loud crash, and Cole set off sprinting with his heart beating a million miles a minute. She must've been lying about their father. Tristan would never submit to insanity like this!

As he quickly approached his father's house, he could already hear the sounds of struggle. Pained moans and protests. No, please, stop. Don't make me do this. A chill went down Cole's spine. His father must've been trying to force Jennie into… whatever it was these horrible creatures did! Had they replaced his father and brother, or truly infected and transformed them? Whatever the case, he had to save his wife!

Cole crashed through the door. The sight chilled his blood. There was his wife, Jennie, eagerly riding what had to be his father, except he barely looked anything like the Tristan he remembered… or the one he'd seen just a few minutes ago. He was clad head to toe in that chitinous growth, his eyes glassy and insect-like. The slight was unbearable, unnatural, eldritch, like some kind of organism that nature never wanted to exist.

At least, not nature as he'd known it back on earth.

The worst part of the already terrible sight was that his wife was bouncing on top of him, forcing that ridged, glistening cock deep into herself with unbridled passion and lust. His father's cock. It was the betrayal that stung most, even more than the realization that she was changing too, that carapace-like and cancerous growth spreading over her body as she rode, with wet squelches each time she sank down.

“What's going on?" was the only thing Cole could yell. He felt paralyzed, watching the debauched display. Nobody answered him. Instead, his wife and father were fully focused only on each other.

“Mmh, yeah. Just keep riding me like that," Tristan growled, in his transformed voice. His voice was deeper than before, and rasped as if his vocal cords were molded in plastic. “I'll give you all the babies you want. All the strong future warriors you could dream of."

“No, please… don't, I don't…" Jennie stuttered, but despite those voiced protests, her body clearly disagreed. Instead, she moved with what seemed like an even more pressing need as Tristan reminded her of what he'd plant inside her. “Oh no, please…" she kept groaning.

Cole thought to push her off. Maybe that'd interrupt the transformation. Maybe it'd do anything at all to let them both snap out of whatever had tainted their bodies and minds. But just then, he felt a slick, hard pair of arms wrap around his waist again. Maggie. Almost instantly, with his next breath, his mind swam with arousal again as the puff of pheromones she'd released hit him. He was fully hard in seconds.

Though changed, Maggie was still weaker than him. She tried to wrestle Cole down onto the floor to take him forcibly, but even in his dazed state, Cole resisted, pushing her back with every attempted kiss. And so, she changed her plan. Rather than force her brother, she'd make him take the initiative. With a quick yank, she tugged his pants down.

“Maggie. Snap out of it!" Cole commanded, but he didn't even convince himself. The pheromones imbued even Maggie's completely alien shape with an unmistakable, irresistible eroticism. She had the curves a real woman would have, by now. And a wet-looking and eager slit between her legs, puffy with need and much softer-looking than the rest of her ridged body. “Please."

“Oh, brother. Just relax and enjoy it. You have no idea how good it feels," Maggie huffed. She laid back on the carpeted floor, spreading her legs wide and ensuring that her brother kept staring. Her fingers brushed over that sloppy entrance. “But you will, soon. You can breed Jennie next time, but right now, I need you to breed me."

The sight of her was mesmerizing. Even though she barely looked human, it was an unmistakable invitation that few men could resist, even without the relentless pheromones flooding and clouding his senses. All those feelings of disgust had bled away under the raging torrent of lust. Cole barely even realized that his cock was hard as rock and throbbing each time he looked at his brother… no, his sister, begging for him on the floor. Slowly, he knelt, as if in a trance, unable to remember why he shouldn't do it. Next to him, his father filled his wife with his seed to the sound of his orgasmic, chittering groans.

Suddenly, Maggie wrapped her legs around him and pulled him close. Pulled him inside her. The immediate heat and tightness, the slick and feverish warmth engulfing his cock, squeezing around every inch of him at once was too much for him to bear. Without as much as a chance to moan, his body tensed and then, gave Maggie exactly what she wanted in thick, plentiful ropes, erupting from his traitorous cock and into her tainted depths.

“Yes, yes! That's it, give me everything you have! Breed your sister!" Maggie huffed and groaned, her body actively milking him, a suckling heat around his cock ensuring that he'd obey her command and breed her. Already, her body was drinking deeply of the creamy, virile offering he left inside her with each spasm of his cock and each orgasmic, stuttering grunt.

She pulled him closer, craning her neck in preparation for giving him the infectious kiss that'd transformed the others. Maggie's lips – much harder to the touch than a human's – pressed against Cole's while he panted helplessly, lost in the sexual haze of pheromones and afterglow, to the point he could barely process what was happening at all.

But then, from somewhere deeper in the house; a scream. Cole immediately recognized it as his mother's voice, crying for help. That was enough to make him snap out of his trance, and he shoved Maggie down as he realized what she was trying to do. There was no taking back his orgasm, though; his converted sister's belly was already swelling rapidly in pregnancy. This, thankfully, turned out to be a blessing. The extreme amounts of energy that their species' rapid pregnancies consumed left her sluggish and weak, and Cole bolted away towards the sound, pulling his pants back up as he ran. His father and wife didn't even notice, busy as they still were with their own mating, to the point that they ignored Maggie's yelling about Cole escaping, too.

Then again, he was only headed deeper into their nest, towards danger rather than away from it.

Chapter 3

The deeper Cole ran into the building, the more he began to realize that this wasn't the work of the ship's autoconstructors. The ground level was, certainly, and even the first basement level. However, from the basement stretched tunnels that could only be described as organic. They spread through the earth like veins, the walls reinforced with a material that seemed much like what the aliens' bodies were. Chitinous growth, maybe even alive, only this was black rather than the sickly green of his former father and brother.

Cole wanted to retch at the thought that he'd just given the alien that took over his brother's body his cum, his offspring. And yet, still high on her pheromones, he couldn't. The disgust refused to manifest despite breaking so many taboos at once. Instead, as he rushed blindly through the tunnels, he came to realize a grim truth. The reason they had thought the planet was uninhabited was because its natives lived underground, in nests, like insects. Nothing remotely close to how humans preferred to settle.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he realized something even more terrifying. The walls were lined by pods, and in each, he could see the chitinous, alien form of one of the hybrids. Most seemed to be resting, but there were hundreds of them just in this nest. They must've taken over the entirety of the Prometheus!

He followed his mother's screams. On one hand, the organic walls absorbed much of the sound. On the other, he was getting closer to the source.

What are you going to do when you find her, Cole-man, he asked himself, using a nickname they'd sometimes used in school. Punch out the evil alien and run where? The whole planet's probably full of them and they come out at night.

He felt his way through the increasingly dark tunnels. There was a vague bioluminescence that only barely allowed him to see anything. None of this had been planned out well. He could only pray that the aliens hadn't infected his mother yet – or at least, that she hadn't transformed – or all of this would be in vain and he'd be next in line. How would it feel, anyway, to be consumed by a foreign infection and become one of those horrifying hybrids? They seemed to enjoy it, at least. Maybe it wasn't so bad.

Don't distract yourself. How are you going to solve this, his inner voice repeated. How? Stop moving. Figure it out first or you'll just be a drooling sex addict like the rest of them.

Cole stopped in his tracks. What would he do? He knew the basics of piloting a spaceship, but not even the world's greatest pilot could planet a ship the size of the Gaia alone. Not to mention it was probably infested with the hybrids by now. The city was supposed to have smaller ships in the spaceport, but was there any hope of reaching it before the hybrids all woke up? He had to take the chance.

With his path chosen, he moved, as fast as the darkness would allow, through the tunnels. Eventually he arrived in a large chamber, where he saw his mother. Caught in a deep kiss by one of the hybrids. Cole reacted as if on autopilot. He tackled the creature away from his mother. It hissed at him, claws extending from its hideous hands, but Cole had already uncorked the self-defense spray he'd pocketed earlier. He pulled the trigger and a violent spray of irritant engulfed the nameless hybrid, who screeched and clawed at the air before falling backwards, trying to get the substance out of its eyes.

“Mom? Mom, we have to go," Cole said, and then grabbed his mother by the waist, pulling her with him until she began to walk, herself. She seemed to be in a daze and felt unusually hot to the touch – only mumbling a few half-coherent words – but he couldn't stop and worry about that now. Cole would carry her if he had to. He had already lost everyone else, and couldn't bear the thought of losing his mother as well.

If she was infected, they'd find a cure. Sooner or later, somewhere. If he got on the ship, aimed it at earth with obstacle avoidance on, and then put the both of them into stasis… if the smaller ships supported it, they'd be fine, right? They'd eventually arrive, even if it might take thousands of years, and they'd do so safe and sound. It was a crazy plan, but there was no other option. It was either madness or it was surrender, and he was not yet ready to surrender.

Maybe it would be better than going on completely alone, though, the voice of doubt reminded him. Better to be a corrupted mockery of the human form than a pure human with nobody to confide in.

He couldn't let that distract him. Eventually he managed to stumble his way out of the nest with his mother in tow, but it was to the sight of sunset. Assuming the hybrids were nocturnal, it wouldn't be long before they swarmed out.

Maggie didn't try to stop them. She took a quick glance of Amanda, and grinned, standing back and choosing to let things happen as they did. Not that she could do much with how heavily pregnant she looked. Nine months, at least. But neither Tristan nor the changed Jessie paid them much attention, either. That meant they knew something he didn't. Either they could sense that she was infected – Cole still hoped that wasn't the case – or they assumed she was.

Cole wasn't much in the mood to care. He ran, as fast as his legs would carry him, to the city's starport, where the remaining colonists from the Gaia had already, as expected, started converting the ship to buildings.

It was too late for them.

Instead, pulling his confused mother along, Cole quickly found one of the smaller ships. They had enough room for four people. Enough supplies for maybe two days, not counting time in stasis. He was breathing so rapidly his vision was dimming at the edges, but Cole was so focused on the single task of getting the ship off the ground that he didn't even notice.

He shoved his mother in, roughly, and then – hearing the chittering of the awakening population of both hybrids and aliens – dove in himself, pulling the landing bay ramp up behind him. Cole, in blind panic, strapped the half unconscious Amanda into one of the ship's stasis pods and then threw himself into the pilot's seat, drawing on all he'd learned about piloting ships at the academy. He'd never actually been allowed to handle one alone. But that didn't matter when his choices were to try or die.

As if by some miracle, he flipped the right series of switches, and the ship's engines hummed to life. Outside of the ship, the hybrids were gathering. But they looked amused more than distraught about two of their potential victims getting away. Maybe, Cole realized, he was nothing to them. At best, the cherry on top of the cake they were already devouring, barely of any real interest. A victim to infect and forget, whose escape mattered little.

It gave him some peace of mind. But he was still alone, and his mother might be changing, too.

A few more keys, and the ship roared fully to life. It was new, if constructed from repurposed colony ship parts, and shuddered as it lifted off, as if threatening to fall apart, metals expanding from the intense heat of the launch thrusters, and then shrinking again as the ship shot into orbit, leaving the aliens and what remained of Cole's family and friends behind. Forever.

Cole felt numb, his mind blank as he pointed the ship towards earth. From this far away, it was only a faint pinprick of light. Autopilot, on. Solar power generation, on. He double checked that the ship would avoid any obstacles, and then walked stiffly back to the stasis room, where his mother was already frozen in time inside her pod. Without allowing himself to think about what awaited them, he keyed in a delayed activation timer on the second of the four pods, and stepped inside. Just like every other time that he had been in one, it felt like nothing as he was separated from the passing of time. Nothing but a blink, and then-

Chapter 4

“This woman. Your mother? What happened to her?" someone asked, shining a flashlight into Cole's eyes. To him, it'd not even been a second since he stepped inside the stasis pod, and now he was somewhere else.

“Where- where am I-“ he stuttered.

“Ugh, stasis sickness. It'll be a while before we get anything out of this one," the officer sighed. He set the flashlight down, and Cole could see he was dressed in a full biohazard suit. “Look, you're aboard the Pandora. Third ship headed for the Magellanic Cloud. It looks to us like you came from there, care to explain why? We picked up your unresponsive, drifting ship, and taking one of those this deep into space… what were you thinking?"

“She's… sick. Caught something back there. You shouldn't…" Cole mumbled. Not only was his brain not cooperating, he also couldn't tell these people about literal aliens or they'd think he was completely crazy.

“Sick? With an alien bacteria? Yeah, alright, I knew it was the right choice to wear this," the officer sighed. He then gestured to the other men in the room. “Quarantine these two. We'll take care of you, but you're going to have to tell us everything sooner or later.

Cole's eyes widened as he was quickly lifted up and carried to the quarantine room by two more guards in full hazmat gear. “Wait- no, you can't, she needs help-“

“Calm down. We'll help her once we diagnose her. It doesn't seem to be life-threatening," the office reassured Cole. And then, the two of them were left in a repurposed cabin, and the door locked. “Just stay here. Try to relax. If she's infected you're almost certainly already sick too."

He wasn't, but at the same time, he could hope, if only barely, that she wasn't either. If she was, though, maybe she – the strongest woman that Cole had ever known – could resist it. Slowly, they both recovered from the stasis, and Amanda from whatever else had slowed her thinking to a crawl.

“You should tell them," she finally spoke. “Maybe they can figure out a way to help the ones who got… mh, turned."

“They'll just think we're both crazy. There's no evidence of any alien life over there, remember?" Cole replied, grumbling to himself.

“Yeah, I suppose you're right," his mother answered, her voice lowering. “But at least you did what you could. My brave, strong, handsome boy."

“No. I failed," Cole sighed, despondent. “Marshall – calls herself Maggie now – basically forced me to fuck her. And I didn't even resist. I just let her breed herself on me while I just stood there watching dad screw Jessie too. I didn't- I couldn't do anything to save them."

“Mm, but maybe it's not so bad?" Amanda suggests. “It's such a hot story. I bet they were enjoying each other. It gets me all wet to think about. And at least you tried. I think you deserve a little kiss for that," she smiled.

“Mom? What are you saying? They did get you, didn't they?" Cole asked. He buried his face in his hands, tired of fighting. He'd made it off that accursed planet and all the way into space only to be picked up by yet another colony ship headed in the same direction he just came from, and then locked in a room with his infected mother. He was so very tired. No doubt the ship's crew was infected too, through whatever trickery they'd done with the Prometheus.

“Something's wrong," his mother gasped, as she suddenly realized what she'd just said. The feverish feeling that she'd been in the grip of seemed to be returning. “Stay away from me, please."

That last part sounded half-hearted at best. Just as his father had done, Cole paced the cabin, trying to figure out a way to escape his fate yet another time, but he'd come to the road's end. There was no way out, and his mother was slowly changing, the alien DNA that she'd been injected with integrating into her own, as it did into all the hybrids.

“Why is it so warm in here?" she huffed, pulling off her shirt and then her bra, as well, leaving her heavy breasts to freely heavy with each labored breath. Cole did his best not to look. He, at the very least, would not embrace this corruption willingly. Even if it wouldn't be the end of him, and just a different, lustier phase, he refused. “Could you… tell them to lower- oh, look at how big my nipples have gotten."

A quick, reluctant glance revealed them to be almost the size of her thumbs.

“I shouldn't- we shouldn't- ngh, what am I even doing? I feel so empty. It hurts," Amanda groaned.

She looked beautiful, even if she was Cole's mother. Well, she wouldn't be for long. The same body, perhaps, but the infection was enough to break any familial ties. They wouldn't even be the same species.

“Is there anything I can do, mom?" Cole asked, dejected. He had precious little choice or hope. Unless someone burst into the room right now he'd end up infected all the same, and at least with his fate sealed, he thought he could make his mother's last moments as a human a little more comfortable.

“You could touch me. L-like a massage," she moaned. It didn't sound like pleasure, the emotion her voice was dripping with. It sounded like pleasure and barely concealed lust.

Cole moved to, at least, massage his mother's shoulders. Quickly enough, she had guided his hands down to her breasts, which felt just as fantastic in his palms as any other pair of breasts did. He kneaded as she wanted, letting her position his hands. His mind was beginning to grow hazy again. The pheromones, he recognized that feeling. The most certain sign that there was less and less left of the Amanda that'd given birth to him. He inhaled deeply, eager to just have it be over, letting the growing horniness inflame his mind and leave his cock swelling once again.

Suddenly she spun around and kissed him. There was no sharp sting of infection, at least not yet. “Fuck me, please," she groaned, all but tearing off his clothes along with her own, including a soaked pair of panties. “I need it. I need you to mate with me. To put all your babies into me. Yes, so many… strong offspring," she groaned, already spreading her legs. The fragrance of her lust only fogged up Cole's mind more, and he welcomed that too. He didn't want to think about anything anymore, at least nothing that wasn't pure pleasure and relief.

He'd give her everything she wanted.

As if sensing his surrender, Amanda pulled her son over her, between her awaiting legs. But she didn't have to force him like Maggie had, earlier. He thrust into her willingly, moaning as her drenched pussy squeezed around his cock, gasping in that adorable way all men did when first sliding inside someone when desperately horny.

In some way, some figment of his being buried deep inside him and all but quiet now, Cole wanted to stop, but his body wouldn't let him. His mind wouldn't let him. The sucking, slurping sensation of each thrust into his mother's cunt was far too good. He only thrust deeper, more aggressively, into the same pussy that'd once given birth to him. Well, barely, at this point. Already Amanda's skin was hardening into pale green chitin, her eyes turning an almost pure black as she trilled and wailed with joy at the vigorous rutting.

“Tell me how badly you want to fill me," she moaned. “Tell me how badly you want to breed your mother!"

Not that the creature really identified as his mother, at that point. But saying she did was clearly having an effect on the young man, eroding his resistance and making him fuck her much harder.

“I- I want to," he grunted, once more against his will as he kept thrusting into that wet, warm, and wonderfully tight bliss, his hands still kneading Amanda's generous, heavy breasts. “I want to knock you up. I want to watch your belly swell with my fucking babies."

She pulled him into another, even deeper kiss, rocking herself onto his throbbing cock with desperate, carnal need. The effect of the pheromones was so utterly intense, so overwhelming, that he was already close to his peak. His mother's growing claws scratched his back in the throes of their mutual passion. Instinctively, his tongue tangled with hers, both moaning into each other's mouths. And then, just on the edge of orgasm, he felt a sting.

The flush of heat through his body was enough to wring him dry. Instantly, he came, and almost violently at that. His whole body spasmed and quivered as he throbbed deep in Amanda's fertile pussy, filling her with rope after rope of cum. It felt like gallons. More than he could've ever imagined producing. The orgasm went on forever, reducing him to little more than an animal before any infection could even take hold, and Cole kept mindlessly grinding against Amanda as he kept throbbing inside her in turn, seeding her as deeply as his body could possibly manage. No matter the consequences, it was worth it. He finally understood, in a twisted way, why his wife had been so eager and why his father had so shamelessly fucked her. He would do exactly the same.

“Good boy," Amanda whispered, hoarsely. She shivered with pleasure as her own orgasm ebbed. Cole had never even noticed it started, but at least her milking explained why he'd climaxed so hard. “Mhm. I can feel it. I'm already pregnant. Rrf, you're such a good stud…"

Cole felt his mother's belly slowly growing as the two soon-to-be alien hybrids cuddled up for a brief, post-coital nap on the floor. They'd sleep through the worst of his fever. And then, one by one, they'd go through the ship and convert anyone who had so far managed to escape it. That perverse and yet deeply erotic thought of forcing his developing condition on others excited Cole almost more than breeding Amanda had. Almost. Until she clenched her inner muscles around him again and the two went for round two before falling asleep.