FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

You'll see some new scenes here. Hooray!

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Marie's tufted ears flicked in annoyance and paranoia as she slipped through a small hole in the construction site's chain link fence. It must have been cut by some kids, because it was a bit of a squeeze even for her slender body. She curled her long, spotted tail around her left leg as she drew it in cautiously. Feline grace could only get a girl so far; the rest of the time, a girl had to be careful about herself, or she might lose a chunk of her tail to some rough wires. As it was, she had felt her t-shirt and skirt tear on the rough edges and endured some unpleasant scratching.

She wasn't the type to casually violate private property laws, but her favorite hat had been blown straight off her head while she walked down the sidewalk on her way home from work. Unlike everyone else in town, it seemed, she had had a half day. The only company on her way home came from a gang of juvenile delinquents passing by and the occasional car going to and fro. Looking around in chagrin, breaking in had taken her several minutes of pacing around the street corner the construction site was located on and trying to jump up and down to see where her hat had flown. Cold, hard anxiety had coiled up in her stomach when she'd finally decided as she regarding the foggy plastic sheeting that blanketed the fence. Lacking any tools of law-breaking and at any rate empty of the willpower to use them (even for the recovery of that awesome hat, which had been knitted and felted especially for her), she'd paced the perimeter before finding the way in she needed, located in a narrow, reeking alley.

Oddly, no one was at the site. The dusty grounds were silent except for flapping tarps and cans that skittered across the ground in the breeze. She looked up at the huge concrete and steel girder construction; it seemed naked, with only shreds of the same dirty plastic sheeting fluttering from scaffolding. Long, wide concrete pipes had been piled up in one area of the dusty "yard," close to far narrower plastic and metal pipes of various forms, probably for things like water and wiring. Or at least that's what Marie figured; she took messages and set up appointments, she didn't build office complexes.

A thunderstorm had torn through the town the day before, but this particular day was sunny enough that the hard-packed dirt she walked over was mainly dry. Only places in the shade and the low points around the pipes were still dark with moisture. That was encouraging--her hat probably wouldn't be any dirtier than a bit of dust, which she could brush off no problem. If only she could find it. She walked around the building's skeleton, peering in reluctantly. A damp wind flowed out of the place, making her shiver. It was kind of forbidding, like a Japanese horror film. No, she'd definitely check out the rest of the place before going in there, even if she was just being a baby afraid of the dark. Old, wet election advertisements from the month before had blown onto the smooth, wet-dark concrete floor, mounded up with flyaway newspapers.

Why would the workers let the site get so filthy? All the litter around made the place look like an urban dumping ground. She toed the bleached-bone carcass of a small songbird into a clump of weeds and thought of worms.

The rest of her search met a similar lack of success. She didn't want to go into that skeleton building unless she absolutely had to, so, feeling a little bit silly, she began investigating the pipes, holding her skirt down behind her rump. When she'd been a cub, her mother had enrolled her in one of those preschool programs that catered to working moms; the one Marie had gone to was actually converted from a farm and in a rural area of spectacular beauty. There had been a fenced-off area nearby where feral horses were kept, and only a few yards off had been three massive concrete tubes--massive in her memory, at least; those childhood images told her they had to be at least three times the diameter of the tubes she was looking in. The cubs and kits would beeline to that area when released to the yard, and eventually would be chased back to the fence line by the feral horses. Marie only learned much later how cruel people considered keeping horses uncivilized like that, as if the beasts who walked upright thought like the ancient humans and considered horses non-sentient. At the time the horses had terrified her, and the thundering of their hooves on the field made the pipes vibrate and feel constrictive despite their size. She'd been afraid as a cub that the horses would trap her in that pipe and toy with her as she'd played with bugs caught in jars.

Her skin heated up at the memory. "Stupid," she muttered, scratching at her dark mane at the twinge of embarrassment. She peered into a central pipe and sighed gustily. There was her hat--almost in the middle of the thing, quite naturally in the darkest part of the pipe, but she couldn't tell if the hat were ruined. The pipe was damp and cool, but she didn't think she'd get very dirty in the thing. As to be expected, because life was a douche like that, the hat was much beyond arm's reach. She climbed into the narrow pipe, annoyed that she had to get into such a narrow thing but also relieved that it wouldn't be necessary to go inside the building. Paranoia wasn't the most flattering personality trait, but it did keep people alive. The blush beneath her fur wasn't much helped by the fact that her underwear was exposed to anyone who just happened by. Still, the place was empty and she would be out soon enough.

Marie scooted through the pipe, finding it tighter going than she originally thought. Her legs were long enough that she couldn't go on hands and knees, and had to instead rely on her arm strength to really pull her through. Her palms were sore from the rough concrete by the time she made it to her hat and so were her suffering knees. She clutched the hat in her left hand and lowered her head, letting her eyes rest from the glare of sunlight at the other end of the pipe. Really, the interior of the pipe was nicely cool, a pleasant change from the stifling humidity outside. Summer was one of her least favorite seasons for that reason--her pelt was just too thick to endure the heat with reasonable comfort.

A slight breeze fluttered her skirt, making it tickle the insides of her thighs. "Time to go." Her voice bounced back to her, weirdly too loud, like whistling in the dark. She shimmied forward and winced as one knee landed on something wet and squishy. She recoiled, but it stuck to her fur. "Great!" she snarled and tried to get along faster, but her movements seemed to spread the stuff--it went around the back of her knee, unpleasantly cold, and as her thighs brushed together, it began to spread further up. She began to tentatively feel around in front of her with her hands, hoping to find no more. Her other knee sank into the same stuff despite the precaution. "Just great!" The stuff was gunky, sticky, and the further she tried to go, the firmer it got until she had to wrench herself forward with her hands. She stopped and used her free hand to feel back around to her thighs--looking down would be worthless, as all she'd see would be her own cleavage, and that wasn't exceptionally helpful.

As soon as she touched the goo, it tensed into something like wrist-thick rubber rope. It jerked her back before she could scream, pulling her knees out from under her and scraping them raw on the concrete. She fell, not quite hard enough to knock her breath out but enough to abort a shout. Her claws punched through the hat as she stuck her other hand down, trying to grab the smooth, hard bands crushing her thighs. She couldn't get her fingers around the punishing grip, though, so she began to scrabble at the concrete, trying to pull herself forward until her fingers bled. Panic had her panting, unable to get anything but a weak whine out of her throat--this had to be a dream, the kind where you couldn't scream because you were paralyzed in deep sleep in the real world. Something blunt and fat pushed at the crease of her torso and thigh, oozing cold against her skin. She shuddered as it stroked against the lay of her fur and moved against her underwear like a thick finger. Her claws were grinding away against the pipe, fingertips streaking blood on the concrete. "No, no, no!" She panted, heaving her body forward fruitlessly. The touch tested her privates, shoving blindly against her underwear until it found the soft hollow of her sex and began to push against the cotton, soaking it with a cold substance that made her muscles clench even tighter.

With a vicious jab it punched through, dragging the stretched fabric with it into Marie's vagina. It slowed, seemingly satisfied that it had discovered her sex. She whimpered with horror, trembling as she slumped forward. The strength had drained from her arms, making them weak and watery. The--the tentacle, she knew, began pushing lazily deeper, curling and tensing in ways she could only feel as vague pressure, as it had gone too deep for her to sense beyond the acute invasion and the tautness of her channel. It was wide--wider than a dick, anyway, and painful despite the frictionless slurp in and out. The cold made her inner muscles tighten. However, if that violation had made her nearly collapse, the sudden probing at her ass was all the motivation she needed to start thrashing again, using all of her weight to try to break free.

The tentacle was quicker just to stab through the resistance of her underwear this time, shoving straight through the tight pucker of her anus with a strength that tore. The pain made her howl; tears ran down her face, mingling with snot as she began to sob desperately. If the thing didn't kill her, someone was going to find it raping her inside this pipe, because someone had to have heard her by now! The tentacle wormed and wriggled into her bowels, eel-like, as the one in her vagina mashed against her cervix made her squeal with the jabbing, brittle pain.

A cold, wet length pushed up between her legs, snaking along her torso and moving between her breasts, her nipples sharpening at the chill. It bumped against her chin, searching for an entrance; this one was at least as large as the other two. She clenched her teeth and lifted her head, doing all she could to keep it from her mouth. Hopefully it wouldn't move further... But no, it did, sliding up the line of her jawbone, smearing the earthy-smelling slime in her fur. Unable to control herself, she yanked at it. The thing took the opportunity to curl around her wrist and jerk it back. The smacking of her chin against the bottom of the pipe stunned her. Another tentacle thrust up between her breasts, stretching the band of her bra until the clasps popped free. It probed her face, pressing against her muzzle, seeking out the nostrils. It seemed to sense it wouldn't fit there, and moved up to her ear; it shoved against that before seeming to decide that that was also an unfit orifice, then mashed itself against her lips. She'd been snarling, jaw clenched shut, and it pushed back into the pouch between cheek and teeth into the warm pocket there. It pushed further back, leaving no option but allowing it to split the flesh or just giving in and opening her mouth--which, unwillingly, she did. It immediately pushed into her mouth. It tasted like potting soil smelled, with a grainy texture to the slime besides that made saliva spill from her lips. She bit into the thing straight away and her teeth sank through as though she'd bitten jell-o.

Before she could spit the piece out, the two tentacles buried in her thrust up sharply. She gave a short shriek of pain as one impaled her cervix, ripping open the one-inch opening and into her uterus. The tentacle head tumbled from Marie's mouth, only to be replaced by a new one that rammed down her throat, gagging her. The binding tentacles around her limbs tightened painfully as neon spots began to dance before her eyes from lack of air; the appendages began to move rhythmically, stretching her channels. Her bowels squeezed back, revolting against the slimy thing pushing into them against her will, but the tentacle resisted easily, stroking incessantly at the muscles as they inevitably began to surrender to fatigue and will-sapping terror. Sweat-soaked and shivering she lay there, darkness flirting with her mind as she slowly suffocated. The powerful thrusts of the tentacles made her hips hitch backwards and forwards, dragging against slime and concrete as her body went limp. They lifted her hindquarters, rubbing her ass back and forth along the pipe top, using that for leverage as each thrust seemed to bury them more deeply within her Her sight grayed, then fled as buzzing filled her ears.

The tentacle pulled free of her throat, trailing strands of slime and saliva from her mouth. It poked at one closed eye, leaving a cold patch of slime there. The tentacles moving in her seemed to be warming; her body had begun to respond, slime and juices dripping down through the matted fur of her thighs. Some of it, a distant part of Marie's mind noted, was probably blood. Like a murmur far away, she thought she heard voices; maybe it was her own, grunting with each thrust, stretching her, attenuating her body past resistance. The tentacle pushed back into her mouth, which was slack and drooling. Tears leaked continually from her eyes, though she was barely aware; her breath came quick and shallow, noisy with congestion. "Uh.... Uhn... Unnn... Uh..." Her nether lips stretched out as the tentacle swelled; the growth jammed against her entrance, flattening against her clit before the width squeezed into her with a pop. The tentacles squelched as they moved, more cold fluid rushing out of her after the wider part fit in; more widths popped into her, huge soft beads pushing into her womb.

The tentacle in her ass stilled for a moment, then jerked, pumping cold liquid into her bowels with such force that she grunted, biting down unconsciously on the tentacle in her mouth. She didn't succeed in biting through it this time, though the tentacle binding her wrist jerked down, straining her shoulder. Her abdomen rippled, body expelling the liquid in a hot gush that puddle beneath her, staining her bulging, painfully taut stomach. A blurry shadow waited at the end of the pipe, which looked now like a horribly long tunnel, the light just a mockery of escape. Then another round thing--an egg, her mind supplied numbly--nudged her tailhole. It squeezed in, expanding her as the tentacle redoubled its onslaught to get the thing further up. She shuddered violently, bowels fluttering as though to shoot it out, but the tentacle's advance was irresistible. Tiny groans scraped through her ravaged throat, muffled by the tentacle moving in and out of her muzzle.

Her womb was distending as it filled, pushing against her other organs. It was agonizing; pregnancy was a slow process of growth, not nearly as fast as this thing's... Egg-laying. The pain threatened to pull her down just as the suffocation had, but her mind wouldn't give up and let her go into the comforting black. The tentacle in her muzzle swelled down her throat and something tumbled into her esophagus--another egg, she knew, and more came as she choked and whimpered against the intrusion. They tumbled into her stomach, forcing the bile up into her throat even as her ass and womb were similarly filled.

Something jerked the bonds against her legs and the tentacles tightened more, cutting off circulation. Desperate yanks began to loosen the creature's hold on her and she was tugged back, one increment at a time, through the narrow concrete pipe. The thing increased its efforts to pump eggs into her until she knew she'd burst.

At last she was out, seeing only flickering silhouettes between her and the sun. The tentacles, still inside her, were thrashing like a possessed umbilical cable between her and the tunnel, trying to drag her back in. She flailed against the bonds as more tugs tried to pull the tentacles out of her; with a snap, one broke from her vagina, then one slid from her ass and throat. She rolled over, convulsing as she began to vomit. The eggs caught in her throat, almost too big to come up, but her body wouldn't let it go, expelling them from stomach and bowels. She trembled and shook as she voided and puked, but the pressure in her womb remained, dammed.

"It's okay," she heard a voice sooth, then, "Call goddamn 911!"

***

She drifted in a white heaven. That was where she had to be. All Marie could see was white--white light illuminating her existence, everything white--nothing but white and six distant white suns overhead. Angels. Her watering eyes opened wide, her pupils blown; all she could see was that light, pure and brilliant. The beauty brought her to tears. She wanted to move up and join it, but she was too tired, too tired to move, and very cold.

She closed her eyes, losing her grip on consciousness as the suns' light burned through her eyelids, lurid red. And so Marie slept.

Her mind drifted in the comfortable darkness of unconsciousness; the distant part of her that still knew rational thought realized that she was in shock. The rest of her mind--the rest that wasn't gibbering in horror--didn't care. She was in heaven. All would be well.

A reedy, irritating ringing filled her ears. She tried to ignore it, but it was insistent, pulsing in time to the beat of her heart. It's not morning yet, she thought, stupid alarm clock. She tried to roll to face away from the beeping, but couldn't--she was snagged in her sheets. But when she tried to lift her other arm, she found she was stuck no matter how hard she jerked; something was looped around her wrists. Her eyes popped open in alarm and she found herself blinded by near-featureless white. White... Marie swallowed, wincing at her sore throat and blinking against the light until her eyes adjusted. She was lying on her back, staring up at a lamp with six bulbs glaring down at her. Her legs were bent up and strapped down, and if she craned her neck to the side, she could see that she was in some kind of railed bed in a big room that disappeared into darkness. Lines ran from her to overhanging machines and an oxygen mask had been strapped to her muzzle; no wonder her sinuses felt so dry and cracked.

"Hkkhl?" Her throat was too dry for her to even speak. She was sore all over, like she'd run up and down a mountain (or maybe ran up and rolled down). Her joints felt swollen and, as she tried to shift, she realized her nethers were puffy and abused as well. She licked her lips as best she could, dry tongue rasping against the plastic mask. She tried to speak again. "Hhllo?" Her guts ached and something deep inside her was throbbing like she'd made love to her boyfriend all night, but sore instead of pleasantly used. Her tail curled up between her legs in agitation, tenting the sheet she lay under.

Footsteps approached from the side; she twisted her head around, but could only see a shadowed silhouette. "Awake there?" A pleasant female voice came from the figure; Marie nodded as her eyes adjusted, letting her see that a chubby panda in a lab coat was leaning over her bed, adjusting an IV drip. "We're just going to do a little check up on you, dear. You're doing fine, so don't worry, okay?" The doctor gave Marie a kindly pat on the head, and then pulled down the white sheet that covered her torso.

That was when Marie realized she was naked and the room was almost freezing. Her nipples went taut at the cold and humiliation prickled her skin red beneath her fur. However, the doctor checked Marie over, making no remarks as she used the stethoscope to listen to Marie's heart, asking Marie to breathe deeply, hold it, and exhale a couple of times. It was like getting a physical. The impersonality of the situation would have been more soothing if she wasn't beginning to remember what had happened before.

"E'ekgs?" Marie tried to say. The eggs?

Evidently the doctor understood. She smiled in what was obviously meant to be a reassuring manner, but Marie was already beginning to sweat and nausea was running through her. Am I pregnant? With that thing's... Spawn? She knew that in normal rape, women almost never became pregnant, but... She tried to look down, but found lifting her head to be nearly impossible. Was she still full of eggs? The doctor was murmuring to someone, but even Marie's keen hearing couldn't make out the words.

"We're just going to take a look, Miss Johannes." The doctor patted Marie again, this time on the foot. With no more warning than that, the doctor flipped up the sheet covering Marie's legs, exposing her privates to the cold air and anyone who cared to look. She yelped, trying to pull her legs down, but she was simply too weak--her legs, like her head, felt too heavy to move. "I'm Dr.... Uh, White, by the way." The pause betrayed the lie.

Marie shivered while "Dr. White" pushed up the sheet and began examining her, pushing at the dry, sensitive skin of her pussy and tailhole with latex-gloved hands. The panda pressed Marie's lips apart with gentle but firm talons, obviously blunted to keep from puncturing the gloves. Marie swallowed convulsively as bile rose up in her ravaged throat. She yelped again when something frigid and wet was shoved into her without warning, roughly aligning her cervix. "Sorry, dear!" the doctor said cheerfully. "I know the speculum's a bit cold!" As if it wasn't bad enough that her nipples were hard enough to hurt and she was being violated again, she had to put up with someone who sounded normal about the whole ordeal. Something cold dribbled out, running down her crack and soaking the sheet beneath her rump.

Again, Marie began to cry. Soft, hiccoughing sobs that the other woman saw fit to ignore, either from lack of sympathy or perhaps for the sake of Marie's dwindling dignity. Meanwhile the doctor had called over two others, clad in the same white coats. "It's disappeared," Dr. White muttered. "Take a look."

A deeper voice replied, "Discolored excretion... Huh... Look at this darker tracery in the vaginal tissue..."

"Let me take a look," a second woman commanded, followed by a sharply painful shift of the speculum. "No, you idiots, look--see that dark part at the cervical aperture?"

Dr. White said, "No, that wasn't there just a moment ago."

"I'll just check it out." Thicker fingers spread Marie's clit outward. "Hm... Wait, it's moving. Something seems to be emerging... One of the ovoids?"

"Not an ovoid. Did you get your doctorate from a box of Wheaties? Perhaps an oospore..."

"Or more like roe," Dr. White added thoughtfully. "Miss Johannes, please give a push for us."

I hope you get one in the eye, Marie thought, contracting her abdominal muscles as viciously as she could, which wasn't much. Something deep within twitched and pushed out from her cervix, disproportionate to her effort. It shot from her channel and she heard the startled exclamations of the three doctors; the speculum clattered to the floor as the thing kept coming out of her, spreading her wider than had her boyfriend put his hand in up to the elbow. One of the doctors screamed, which cut off with a sharp tug at Marie's insides that made her gasp with pain. More things came squirming out of her. She could see a dark, glistening coil loop above the bed and then shoot down, jerking her hips forward and making the whole bed rattle.

The male doctor roared and tackled her, crushing her tiny frame with his bullish body. The mask tore away and tubes ripped from her throat; the catheter came free with a painful pinch, as did something that had been buried in her ass. The horrible pressure on her full belly made her shriek; more tentacles poured from her opening, lashing out at the doctor, opening her beyond all possibility. There was no pain. She caught a glimpse of his curving horns over her head before the whole bed collapsed sideways, catching one of her wrists between the rail and the floor. She cried out, feeling bones crack. The other wrist restraint snapped and she shoved at the bull's chest; he was grappling with a thick, wet tentacle that had slipped between them and was constricting around his throat. His labored, wet breathing hit her full in the face; she could see his wide brown eyes bulging in panic, but couldn't muster much sympathy as she struggled to free her other wrist. His breath smelled of manufactured cheese. The pair writhed on the floor, Marie trying to loose her bonds, the bull doctor trying to free himself from the monster choking the life out of him. Her knees, still pushed up by the mechanical stirrups, were bearing most of the weight of the bed, an agonizing situation she couldn't free herself from. However, one of the tentacles thrust powerfully against the bed--something shattered several feet away, but the straps holding Marie's legs stretched until she was able to slip free. Each slick flail of the tentacles brought heat between her legs, carrying a red flush beneath her fur, enough to make her eyes roll even as she struggled.

Unfortunately, she couldn't get away from the dying bull. Snot and blood and saliva dribbled from his nose and mouth. His grip was failing; he could only paw weakly at the coils around his throat, which gave one last nasty squeeze that crushed his throat. He collapsed against her, jerking through his death throes. A bulge between his legs pressed against her belly and she screamed, the real horror finally penetrating her mind. "Oh please," she whimpered, "No, no, no...!"

But the ordeal was not yet over. Alarms were raging overhead; Marie tried to get to her feet, but the combination of a massively distended stomach and thick tentacles twisting between her legs had other ideas, moving around of their own accord without giving her the chance to orient herself. She landed on her back with a wet smacking sound, hands going to her groin as if to push everything back in. Bodies lay still around her, scattered like dolls--not just the three doctors, but a tiger and a deer in security blues and personnel in scrubs. The machines she'd seen were toppled, sparks flaring. The shattering sound she'd heard before was apparently a glass wall, isolating her from a bank of monitoring equipment. A few people still stood there, struck frozen by terror; a body hung over one console, unmoving.

The tentacles dragged her through the broken glass and into the lab floor; one of the two people fainted, while all but one fled. The one who remained, a petrified-looking gray rabbit, merely stared at the knot of tentacles that maneuvered Marie around the consoles and ever closer to her. "Run!" Marie screamed hoarsely. "Get out of here!" The rabbit--Ren Juuko by her nametag--finally bolted, but it was too late. A tentacle lashed out, catching her midsection and sending her tumbling to the floor in a tangle of limbs and chairs. The slimy tentacle drew the women closer together; other tentacles reached out for the rabbit, pulling her legs apart and reaching up her flowing black slacks. Marie rolled herself forward and clawed her way forward to the rabbit, trying to help disentangle her.

The tentacles that had grown out of her pussy had widened it to the point that Marie's legs were splayed; the flesh felt as though it would surely split, and yet it hadn't. The glass from the broken observation wall hadn't even cut her. The thick mass roiling between the two women made Marie bob up and down as she more or less sprawled on it, trying to pry Ren loose to no avail.

Ren was screaming, a shrill, mind-numbing sound that made Marie want to curl up and cover her ears. The tentacles, impatient with attempting to pull Marie away, bound her hands to the rabbit's legs before probing between them and ripping through the fabric. The sudden double penetration shocked Ren into stillness; Marie could hear her tiny whimpers over a low moaning sound... That was coming from her own throat. A vague feeling of warmth made the flush running through her build faster; warmth, pleasure, an urge to... "No!" A blunt-tipped tentacle hovered over the rabbit's face for a moment before plunging into her open mouth, angling away from the long incisors. It muted the woman's cries and renewed her struggles. She thrashed her hips, nearly breaking Marie's nose against her pelvis; the wet, suctioning sounds of the two tentacles moving inside the woman made Marie gag. The convulsion caught the creature's attention, for it quickly pinioned Marie to Ren so that one ear was pressed against Ren's torso and Marie's bulging stomach was squashed between herself and the oozing, wriggling tentacles.

The salty smell of Ren's sex combined with the loamy scent of the tentacles' excretion; the whole thing was horrible, the sound, smell, and sight of the violation Marie was made into a captive audience of. The pistoning tentacles made Marie's hips hump in a gross parody of lovemaking, bumping her knees against the tiled floor over and over. Her sex worked around the tentacles, squeezing and releasing instinctively, hungrily.

Something buried deep between her legs shuddered and pulsated, pushing out from her womb and out of her entrance until it plopped on the floor. She felt her pelvis creak and pop, but no pain bloomed. Then another tentacle followed, and another, until she'd pushed out six of the writhing things. The width of the tentacles seemed reduced--in fact, there was only one thick appendage protruding from between her legs now, and her womb was shrinking down until it no longer looked as though she might explode at any moment. However, Ren found herself in a worse situation; her hips bucked up as two more tentacles entered her, two shoving into her pussy and two in her ass without a shred of mercy. The rabbit would have been shrieking if not for the tentacle jamming itself over and over in her throat. The tentacles that had lashed Marie to Ren loosened and Marie pulled her body free, catching a glimpse of angry crimson pussy that made her own clench in sympathy.

The main tentacle that held Marie to Ren seemed to be the one most aggressively pounding into the rabbit's vagina; Marie's hands were still bound to Ren's thighs, and so she was forced to face Ren's rape. The alternatives were to watch any number of other horrors occurring or to close her eyes, but that left her with the sensation of the tentacle sliding in and out of her own taut channel and the horrible sounds and scents. Denying one sense made all the others much worse. Thus she saw the bulging of Ren's stomach as the other tentacle in her pussy began pushing in and in rather than mocking regular intercourse; the two in Ren's ass did the same, though the main tentacle continued its lazy fucking. The other tentacles disappeared into the girl with faint slurping noises. The one in her mouth trembled, then spasmed, gray ooze trickling from the corners of her slack muzzle. Ren had since passed out; the only screaming was entirely Marie's own.

The ejaculating tentacle wavered, then fell and seemed to wither into dust. Ren's long ears twitched as she seemed to be coming around again. At the same time, the fat tentacle coming from between Marie's own shuddered, something fat traveling out of Marie and through it into Ren, making her stomach expand impossibly. The fat tentacle crumpled as well, withering into a dry stem no larger around than a stick in a matter of seconds, along with the binding tentacles. With the pressure between her legs gone, her pelvis seemed to snap back together. The dry stalks crackled away as Marie scrambled up, sparing no time for the prone rabbit.

The remaining dead tentacle crumbled between her legs as she began stumbling through halls, ignored by blue- and black-suited people running in formation down the hall to the area she was leaving. She limped through open doorways until finally she emerged from an innocuous-looking office front on a moon-lit street she recognized--only a couple of blocks from her home. The stricken cheetah began to make her way home, hiding in the shadows.

***

Ren Juuko clambered unsteadily to her feet, coughing up the dry remains of the tentacle that had been down her throat. The buttons on her pink shirt and lab coat popped open as her abdomen flexed, its sudden swollenness too much for her clothes. Between her legs was cold and sore and dripping with viscous fluids that made her pants stick to her matted fur. For the first time, she felt true sympathy for the research subjects--the people who went through this. Yes, people... She had ignored that their subjects suffered fear and pain and humiliation just like everyone else.

It had been for her sanity, really... And now, if she didn't escape, she'd become a subject too, or worse, and none of her colleagues would spare her any discomforts during research just because they used to eat lunch and joke and swap gossip together.

As she righted herself, leaning heavily on the console, the creature in her shifted. She could feel it moving under the muscle and skin; a gush of liquid splattered beneath her and she flushed with shame beneath her gray fur, damp with fear-sweat. Her ears twitched at the sound of marching feet--she could hear them moving in beyond the piercing alarms. No one had armed the lockdown doors and heads would roll for it. I'm running out of time! Desperately, the rabbit jabbed at her system's keyboard, initiating the wipe protocols she'd put into place months ago. If she couldn't manage to escape, at least they'd lose all their research... And then she'd take care of herself. But first things first--she needed to make sure there was no record of the specimen... contacting her.

Ren didn't have time to stare at the monitor. She tugged her shirt closed, straining against her painfully full belly. There was no way her body would handle any physical stress like this--the subject may have been able to escape, but at least her body had had a week to begin to accommodate the rather sudden "pregnancy." Ren, however, had no such luxury. She was amazed that she wasn't bleeding out already. Too much stress would likely end up with her dying of internal hemorrhage--not the kind of escape she wanted.

The rabbit had no problem disguising herself as yet another fleeing scientist as she emerged into the hallway. The security staff had already arrived en masse; none seemed to pay her much attention as they took up positions, about to invade the already empty lab by force. One waved her back, seeing her wide-eyed, horrified expression and the blood in her mouth caused by the creature's violent taking of her muzzle. He must have just thought her merely one more casualty.

I may make it out after all... She made it through the corridor and took the next turn, wanting to get out of their range as quickly as possible. Out of sight was out of mind, after all. She took a left and then an elevator up, unsurprised that even that basic security precaution hadn't been taken.

The doors of the elevator opened and her heart plummeted into her stomach. Four guards had turned to the doors at the cheery ding of the elevator's arrival. She stabbed the "close doors" button frantically. "Ma'am!" One shouted. "Come out! We will not hurt you!" The doors weren't closing fast enough; two were closing in, while one covered her with a gun and the other turned to the only exit out of the main lobby.

Come on, come on! She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the doors to snap shut and keep her safe. They were steel, nearly impenetrable, and if they would just close she'd be fine, she knew she'd be fine... She still had a chance.

"We can help you, ma'am. Just come out of there. Let's do it the easy way, okay?" The doors whooshed closed and she slumped over with relief... In time for a hand to clamp over her shoulder vise-tight and jerk her forward. She lashed out, raking the rat's face with her short, blunt claws. She'd always kept them short for typing... Now they did nothing but aggravate the guard, who grappled with her and with almost insulting ease pinned her arms between them--but not before she got a sound bite in on his nose, causing him to squeal with pain and anger. He spun her out of the elevator, literally hurling her into the lobby.

Something pinched her shoulder. The last thing she saw before she sank to the marble floor was the mosaic behind the reception desk--two huge human hands extended toward each other, with barely more contact than the brush of fingers.

Ren woke up cold and paralyzed; everything around her blurred, but she could tell she was in one of the max security labs. Her tongue was swollen and dry in her mouth--the telltale cottony feeling of heavy sedation. She wouldn't have been able to move even if the heavy cuffs weren't keeping her pinned. Machines bleeped sleepily around her; she could hear the hiss of an air-cycling unit. They were taking the organism more seriously this time; well, that went along with her original recommendations, but Ren wished she weren't the one they decided to put the heavy guard on.

Rolling her eyes around to get a better look, she realized... This wasn't the first time she'd woken up here. She'd dreamed... No, she must have floated up from the drug haze before... Her muscles were stiff, as though she'd not moved much for a very long time. Tubes had been crammed in her mouth, a catheter's pinch down below, the... invasive sensation of having tubes to eliminate through... She wanted to die.

Truly, deep down, she wanted to die. There would be no escape. The lab would not make the same mistake twice. Something of this level of regenerative capacity could not be lost. That girl would be found...

Something twisted in her womb and, if she could have screamed, she would have. That cheetah subject had not been the first the company had collected, but she had been the only to escape--if indeed she had. Ren had no way to know otherwise. But the girl was doomed either way--she couldn't hide, couldn't run. The organism had only sacrificed the external appendages and a few... buds. Pruning--a prudent survival strategy. Tales of ferals from Before indicated that even they would gnaw away a limb if caught in a trap. Better to be crippled and live free than wait to die whole. The girl was infected and could destroy everything. Everyone. Her freedom meant untold horrors...

A pneumatic whoosh brought Ren out of her musing. The scientists who came in regarded her from behind masks with barely a hint of recognition, though she knew them. Her jaw worked, but with the tube in down her throat, she could only make the weakest of gurgles. The two moved around her, one injecting a sedative into the IV, the second shoving her weak legs up the tracks of the mechanical stirrup. That one was Dr. Liu--he was never one to do something gently when it could be done quickly.

He pushed his lubricated, slender fist up into her vagina, feeling, she knew with a pang, her cervices. They ached and she knew before he spoke what that meant. "She's dilating on schedule. I venture to confirm that the reproductive cycle of lagomorphs does have an effect on the laying cycle."

"The part where her kind can ovulate just from someone shoving his knot up there?" And Dr. Whitefoot, Ren thought grimly, then winced as Dr. Liu began pulling something out of her. Her muscles involuntarily contracted, pushing against Liu and the tentacle he had to be dragging from her womb.

"That's a good girl," he cooed, much to Whitefoot's and Ren's disgust. Still, she couldn't help herself--not that she wanted that thing staying in her any longer than necessary. She moaned around the respirator until Whitefoot hastily untaped it and slowly pulled it out along with the feeding tube, allowing Ren to fully breathe on her own. A sudden wave of heat washed over Ren as at last the tentacle came out; it felt like a thick bulb at the end, which had corked the rush of hot fluid that cascaded out of her and onto the lab floor. She could hear it rush down the drain as she leaked. She shuddered and pushed, though the tentacle was long gone.

"Labor," Whitefoot mused aloud. "A bit faster than usual. Generally the prostaglandin and pitocin take longer..." Why wasn't the tentacle killing everyone? That was what Ren wanted to know... It would be a good time, she thought muzzily, muscles contracting again. The first egg popped through and rolled out, quickly followed by more with a force that rivaled that of water tumbling through a tap. She was trembling with weakness long before the end, though there was little pain. The eggs were soft, or at least small enough to not tear her, she surmised. But when the tentacles had taken her in the lab, they'd just gone straight in... They hadn't laid in her then, had they? "I think we can tentatively confirm that a host in heat means a more docile subject, except in the presence of other potential hosts."

Heat continued to course through her. Of course, estrus... She shuddered as Liu fingered her opening, fingers brushing over her clit as he examined her with Whitefoot looking on. Her breath came in short bursts that made the female scientist hmph with withering scorn, but Ren couldn't control herself. This was why females were allowed to stay home during heat--they were nearly completely ineffective without chemical suppression during the period, and so became many males they came into contact with. It was particularly rough for rabbits, though...

"Insemination?" Liu asked Whitefoot amiably. She grunted in agreement. There was a wet sloshing sound, and then... "You know," Liu said, "We could test out the digestive hypothesis. We have enough other subjects." A round-headed tentacle, cool and wet, poked at her cunt, squirming slightly before the brush of Liu's fingers there told Ren that he was guiding it in. She gasped as it slid in, filling her.

"There is no way. She'd die of sepsis if not from bursting." The tentacle seemed to bulge within her, then...

"Well, we could try a colonoscopy." Split. She could feel it sliding through both cervices and into the uterine horns, making her cramp. The tentacles began to undulate; a shuffling sound indicated that Liu was hefting up something heavy--likely the bulk of the creature that had been within Ren. "Perhaps we should let her come to term this time. Also, I recommend an oral exam--there were some interesting developments as of last night."

"They'd have to be situated in the upper intestine to get any--" Ren groaned loudly, hips hitching forward, "effective nutrition. The colon's simply too low." Irritated, Liu slapped at one of Ren's thighs, but the sensation of roiling thickness within her was too much for her to withstand. Unwillingly, her hips kept rolling, making her strain at the cuffs that held her down to the table. Her cunt dribbled with come and the excretion of the tentacles. They'd done tests on the substance. It was no more offensive than Vaseline, little more than sap with qualities not entirely unlike gelatin. Lubricant. "I'll check that now."

The woman pushed her fingers against Ren's muzzle, parting the lips before grabbing the space behind her teeth, forcing Ren's jaws apart. Ren swallowed, tongue working against the roof of her mouth. With her other hand, Whitefoot prodded at her tongue, touching something that made Ren moan and another orgasm heat her belly. The tentacles wriggled, curling between Liu's fingers. "Sensitive," Whitefoot said. "The tongue is certainly rounder, smoother. I believe there's an extra ring of cartilage in the throat as well, protruding." Ren could feel the tentacles rubbing against Liu's hands, a few small tendrils curling between her thighs.

"Hmm... I think we could make it work. Obviously it will take planning. I wasn't suggesting we do it right now." The large tentacle slowly accelerated, attempting to fit the first of what would be many eggs inside her. The load squelched against her opening, obviously not stretched wide enough for it. "You know, I think surgical alteration of the pelvis may not be amiss, either."

"I'll take it under advisement," Whitefoot stated, her low tone inviting no further comment. Ren whimpered as the width finally wedged inside, helped along by Liu. She cursed them, but it only came out as grunts, for the cottonmouth was too severe. "I'm on break. I'll send a replacement." With that, Whitefoot stomped out, and the pneumatic door hissed shut behind her.

Liu sighed. "What a bitch, huh?" The eggs began to come faster, spreading her labia and pressing against the pearl of her clit as the scientist facilitated her impregnation. "Not a very handy ovipositor," he observed. She wasn't sure if he was talking to her or just commenting to himself, and didn't care. She just wanted relief... Her pelvic muscles tightened, using the strength kegel exercises granted to clamp down around the tentacle as it humped against her, its egglaying for the moment frustrated as she instinctively sought her own pleasure. A line of spawn-sacs were smashed against her opening, the first slowly distorting as the tentacle's peristaltic movements propelled them upwards. The pressure dragged a reluctant moan from Ren's throat. Finally it popped in, frustrating her progress towards climax. But the next butted up right into her clit, then the next, and the next, each building the wave of heat and tension that finally swept through her as the tentacle convulsed and swelled after the last lump, a jet of liquid bursting into her.

Liu moved around the bedside as the tentacle quivered inside her. The last thing she heard before her sight darkened was, "Perhaps we will let the next ones come to maturity in you..."

***

The man's voice rasped over the crackling phone line. "It's absolutely imperative that you return, Miss Johannes. You have no idea--" Marie could hear a faint clicking; she knew from research that it was a phone tap.

She stared into the fridge. Nothing but condiments, most of them expired, and a bunch of rotten food. "How 'bout you get knocked up by aliens, huh, and strapped down for breeding? We've been over this. I'm not coming back. If you try to get me, your facilities will be splashed over every television of every household in the A.S. Stop calling me." She slammed the phone back into the cradle and pinched the bridge of her nose to squeeze out the pressure building behind her eyes. They called occasionally; she knew they followed her when she left her apartment, and she was pretty sure the new girl at her latest job was just a spy, and not even a particularly good one.

A couple months had passed since she escaped from the lab and found that not only had she been kidnapped, she'd also been held for a little over a week. Unwilling to go to the police, Marie had explained to her boyfriend and others that she'd had a family emergency. Luckily, she lived too far from her parents for them to think anything odd of not hearing from her for a week. Aside from that, well... It was twice a week therapy. She could hardly think of sex, let alone what had happened... And she couldn't even be fully honest with her psychologist, which was frustrating for them both.

Her boyfriend had been acting a little strangely since then, standoffish, shy. He'd asked her about her stomach, obviously thinking she'd cheated on him. She'd left with a nearly flat stomach, only slightly fluffier than usual, as if she'd maybe put on a pound. But she was starting to show, as it were, and the meaning of that terrified her. She'd told him nothing, mutely shaking her head when he pressed the subject. He hadn't dumped her; she had to be thankful for that.

She knocked the phone off the kitchen counter into the wall; it clattered to the floor, battery panel popping out and spewing its contents across the linoleum. The noise was satisfying, but not enough. Tears pricking her eyes, she shook herself with a huff and went to flop on her bed. She'd found her emotions more difficult to manage since the, the incident, often crying over little things. She had to bite her tongue against screaming many times, at least once a day, something she had never had the urge to do out of anger before.

Sleep came quickly, and she dreamed of work. Innocuous for once. The new office was a law partnership, small enough not to care much about the circumstances of her firing. They needed a secretary and a cheap one at that--ambulance chasers on the cheap, because, as far as she could tell, they weren't particularly good at trials. Still, it paid. Many of her dreams were far less pleasant; dreams of darkness, the stink of stagnant salt water, pale maggoty things spilling from between her legs and into an ocean of voracious worms. Fantasies of fucking that rabbit with the tentacles til she screamed and exploded. Dreams of Jacob pounding into her, fertilizing her offspring as she filled his body with eggs using her mouth.

Marie awoke in the morning with one hand between her legs, fingers curled over the mound of her moist sex. She groaned at the familiar warmth; her heat had come on for the first time since the rape. Her therapist would call that an improvement, since obviously her mind had recovered enough for her body to resume its natural functions, but... Marie couldn't imagine a worse time for it to come on. She pulled her hand away with a bitter mixture of relief and reluctance. She didn't want to think about it, whatever was buried up there. If she were lucky, someone had raped her while she was unconscious in the lab and the tentacle creature had well and truly died on the floor between her and the rabbit.

If she were lucky. She chose to believe it.

Twisting in her damp sheets, she uttered a long rrroooowwrrr into a fluffy pillow at the hungry ache of her sex and knotted a quilt in her fist. Let it be over soon, gods...

***

That night, mind thick with frustration and need, she sifted through her bedside drawer, pulling out the tiny, oblong vibrator she'd purchased three years ago as a nervous 21 year old testing her new freedoms. It was tiny, smooth, and pink, and she almost never used it anymore. Turning it on, she sighed at the weak batteries, but knew she had no more live ones. It would do. She had plenty of romance novels to help.

Marie selected one from the little bookshelf, an old favorite with some naughty scenes that made her blush to think of anyone finding out that she read the things. They were for when she was bored and lonely, the late nights when Jacob was away. The men in the stories were always so strong and aggressive, unlike sweet Jacob, who was shy and, she thought, a bit ashamed of his soft body. Nothing like the hunk on the portrait, who was evidently generously endowed with "rippling manhood." Rippling... She shook her head. No, she'd... Reclaim it, like the therapist said. She could enjoy sex. Everything was fine.

She laid the book down on the bed and shucked her shirt, leaving her bra on. She liked to keep her panties on when she, well, masturbated, and her skirt, because it made her feel a little dirty in a good way, but she always felt kind of embarrassed with her breasts out in the air, moreso since her kidnapping. A faint flush tingeing her skin, she got on the bed and laid back, propped against her pillows so she could rest the book against one bent leg. The pages were clean but soft from constant turning, the corners on her favorite parts more round than square. She flipped to a section a few pages before the best lovemaking scene and began to read.

Soon caught in the rhythm of the purple prose, Marie affixed Jacob's face to the stoic warrior whose secret love for the heroine made him take her brutally in the haunted woods, bending her back over a log cushioned with moss. He pushed her silken skirts out of the way, tearing at his own breeches in haste before tugging at her underwear and thrusting in, ripping away the precious bud of her virginity with his mighty spear as her breasts heaved beneath his bare, muscular chest! She cried out in pain and rapture, the triumphant growl of his pleasure causing the crows to flap away as he owned her with his sword of flesh that delved so deeply into her rosy passage. Marie's fingers slipped beneath her dampening panties as she read, sliding against her moistening folds. She kneaded her clitoral hood as she imagined Jacob turning her over and slowly pushing into her, his slick penis heavy and thick, stretching her as his thrusts rocked them back and forth, his teeth marking her nape as he owned her. Warmth spilled into her satin panties and she put the book down, reaching for the vibrator and turning it on before she slid it inside her, moaning at the feeling. It wasn't enough, though, too slim; she pushed her fingers inside, hitching her hips up and grinding her clit against the heel of her palm.

Still not enough, not enough sensation; she growled and trilled, fitting four fingers inside her sex and pushing until she was past the knuckles, using her other hand to roughly massage her clit. The room smelled of her, ocean and musk and heat; her sticky sex was engorged around her hand, the lips swollen as she rocked against her hands, sliding the thumb in until the vibrator slipped away to the cervix, buzzing. She didn't notice the ache as she panted with her fingers crooking, come leaking around her hand and running down her crack, soaking her underwear. "Unnnnn!" She squeezed her muscles down, clamping on her fingers as she crushed her thighs together, desperately seeking elusive release. "Uhhhhhhhng!"

Something blunt pushed into her hand; the vibrator. Teasingly, it slid past her palm, buzzing at her sensitive labia, then fell all the way out as a slick appendage pushed beyond her hand, swaying out. Mind fogged by her own scent, her hips swayed in the air and she groaned, knowing it was wrong but wanting... The thin-tipped tentacle snaked out, wavering; she picked up the vibrator and rubbed it against her clit, pulling her other hand out with a splurt. She trailed her fingers across her stomach, ropes of thick come sticking to the pale fur there, then caressed a breast, teasing her nipple through the bra. Dim reason told her she should fight the rising pleasure, so she tried to sit up, grasp a tentacle instead of her breast, but one eased around her throat, squeezing whenever she tugged. Each tug gave a burst of pleasure, each squeeze made her eyes water and her consciousness fuzz. She clenched her thighs together, rolling the tentacles between them until she thought she would black out.

Her entrance stretched as more tentacles pushed out, swaying in the air; her stomach felt as though it were swelling again, strangely; she needed to push, to piss, shit--the pressure was enormous. Groaning with the effort, she rolled off the bed, slipping her fingers beneath her bra to tweak the hardening nub. The tentacles dragged behind, the friction of the carpet against them better than the vibrator she had pressed so tightly to herself that it barely buzzed. The bathroom tile felt cool and invigorating to her footpads and the tentacles. No way she could sit on the toilet; instead, she crouched in the tub and squeezed until her whole sex should have fallen out. Something inside broke free; she could feel it traveling down. With a splash, it landed in the tub; instinctively, she lashed out with a tentacle, plugging the drain. Her spawn, a mass of wriggling, black things in gelatinous mucous. She strained further, tentacles coiling back in to corkscrew the mass of writhing babies out, eyeless, furless infants like placentae. She could see the shadow of organs through their thin membranes. She panted, fingering herself as she pushed still, knowing there were more, and she was almost done. Another flood of mucous burst from her and she slumped back against the tub rim, tentacles slack at the bottom among her young.

Children... She had always wanted children. She should have been barren after the tentacles... One scratched behind her ear; the slick movement between her thighs made the need rise again, but she was hungry, and they smelled so delicious. Licking her claws first, she scooped a handful of wriggling larvae into her mouth and swallowed.

***

Jacob ran a shaky hand through his mane again, finishing the ruination of the grooming he'd worked on so hard that morning. Marie... The only reason she wouldn't tell him about that pregnancy had to be that the cubs were his. She wasn't like other cheetah girls, she didn't cheat. And she didn't want to make him feel obligated to... To be a father.

Well, if he was gonna have kids, he'd give them more than what he had. He knew he wouldn't make a great dad, but at least they'd have one, and he'd do his best.

She'd been feeling bad lately, he could tell. She seemed to be losing weight even though she had that belly--so low and round, had to be boys in there somewhere. At night, in the dark, he could admit to himself that it was kind of hot--that round belly on such a svelte figure, and the way her breasts had begun to swell. But she'd been sick, so he just took comfort with himself while he waited. If she didn't want to make love, it was okay. But he wanted to show his support for her... And how much she meant.

He'd do fatherhood right. He was a man, and it was a man's job to stand up when needed.

He knocked on the door and nervously palmed the warm velvet box in his pocket, making sure it was there for probably the umpteenth time. His heart was fluttering in his throat. This was big. The biggest thing he could ever do.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Please say yes.

Still, she didn't open the door. Only a little deflated, he opened it with his key. So much for the grand gesture... She was probably out. He would just wait for her to come back, maybe cook something up for her. It was important for a pregnant woman to keep her weight up. Had to be strong, healthy, all that--cubs were demanding, right?

Jacob started to take off his coat at the door, then remembered the box and shrugged it back on, muttering to himself as he went into the living room.

A familiar scent tickled his nose and he automatically opened his mouth a bit, tasting it. Heat. She was in the apartment... and in heat. The tantalizing scent dried his mouth and made his cock twitch. He blushed--she'd be pissed if he went in, but... What could it hurt? Make up sex was always good. He opened the bedroom door.

In the dark, Marie lifted her head up, pinning him with her glinting golden stare. She was lying on the bed with her head at the foot--the sheets were half off, and the whole place was thick with the salty smell of her and something exotic and earthy. "Marie," he said, voice cracking, and just like that, she rolled over and lifted her tail, presenting the inflamed lips of her wet vulva. Her heavy belly hung beneath her, making the beautiful curve of her back deeper than usual. Her thighs were quivering, the tawny fur slicked down with her dew.

Jacob was so hard that his dick could have popped a zipper. Marie chuffed at him; to see her so far beyond verbal only made him fumble more with his pants as he shoved them down, clumsy with lust. He'd just kicked them off when she started to growl, displeased with his slowness. He hadn't gotten his underwear all the way down yet, but whatever. His cock jutted out proudly and he ran his hand down it, hissing at the sensation. The scent of her desire was heady, better than any aphrodisiac. He was already beginning to leak when he bent to her, pressing his nose into her pussy before giving it a long lick with his sandpapery tongue. She pushed against his face, smearing his muzzle with her scent. It smelled deeper than usual, somehow... Richer. He growled and climbed up on the bed on his hands and knees. In one fluid move, he mounted her, burying himself in that wet fire between her legs.

As the barbs caught within her, Marie let loose a guttural roar and bucked against him. He thrust again, catching a breast in one hand and squeezing it as the bone in his penis pressed up against her vaginal wall. Before, her breasts hadn't even been a handful; now his fingertips didn't even brush her chest. He clamped his jaw down around her scruff and fucked into her, jerking and jerking until he froze at last and came, balls tightening with the pleasure rolling over him. And this was just the start... He'd have to call in to work tomorrow if she gave him the chance.

He pulled out, growling possessively around her nape before letting go. Thin cool strings of drool connected him to her neck before they broke; she raised her head, then twisted around on her back and slapped him once, hard. "What are you doing here?" she demanded. As he tried to stutter out a response, she yanked him down on the bed and rolled over him, resting her weight on her knees. The mattress bowed beneath them. "Scoot back." His semen dribbled out of her, smearing his nice white work shirt.

In awe, he shifted his gaze from her face to her breasts as he obeyed. Her nipples were erect, like pink top hats. He gingerly groped one, half-afraid that she'd bite him. Jacob had never seen her so--so in charge. She had always been aggressive in sex, but not to this extent. She stopped him when he was where she wanted him with a lick across his nose where her juices had cooled and, while he was distracted with that and her beautiful breasts, pulled his briefs up over his cock, trapping his hard-on. He groaned in frustration as she began to grind her hips down against him; the fabric was soaked in mere seconds as she gyrated against him, holding his chest down with her hands and a warning hint of claw. She arched against him and his hips thrust up. "C'monnn Marie," he moaned, "Pleeeeassse." The pleasure of her hot body versus the pain of such tight confines... His balls were clenching up and he knew he'd come again if she didn't let up.

She laughed at him, but she also relented. That was the important part. She tugged his briefs down and slowly lowered herself. His grip on her breast tightened as his eyes rolled back in his head with bliss.

Marie fucked herself on him, growling as she lifted up and the barbs of his dick caught in her. To him, it was heaven, the slide and drag of her pussy, the reek of sex so thick he could taste it. His pulse was pounding, muscles taut, everything in him racing as though he were in a marathon. He felt alive, and he knew she could feel it, too, in the way her eyes were tightly closed, in the way she clenched around him like a hot, wet fist. Yes, god, now, he thought, hearing a sob of ecstasy from her.

"M-marie," he gasped, driving up into her, "Marry me!"

She cried out and it was like he was fucking the tightest, wildest thing in the world; he swore that she was gripping him with her pussy as she came, gushing against him like he'd never felt her do before. The head of his cock pressed against something up there--he'd gone deeper than ever; perfect, the best mating of his life, to fit so with his mate. He growled and seized her generous hips, claws digging into her skin as he hitched his hips to get deeper.

That was when he felt something hot and wet slide against his balls. "Oh my god, Marie, your water broke," he blurted, but didn't lose his hard on. Holy shit, she's going to give birth right here! But she only grabbed his forearms and gave him the most intense, soul-searing look he'd ever experienced in his life.

She hissed something garbled, as though she spoke with a mouth full of water.

Bewildered, he asked, "What?" His hips were still moving of their own accord, even though she was almost perfectly still. Liquid dripped down behind his balls, dripping down his perineum, and then... He choked.

Something was pressing into his... Into his ass. "No!" He tried to buck her off. "No, no, no!" But her strength somehow proved superior to the lion's, and for all Jacob could do to writhe and twist, he couldn't get free of her iron grip. The belly that had seemed so sexy before was now just more weight trapping him between the sagging mattress and whatever was inexorably pressing past the tight ring of his anus and into his ass, fuelling his terror.

He pushed at her face and chin, trying to knock her off; the thing, whatever it was, had wormed its way in him and was crawling further in, stretching his ass out. Then something probed the slit of his prick and he roared, losing it. Jacob wrapped his massive hands around Marie's pale, slender neck and began to squeeze, his roars turning into screams of terror as she reamed his ass and began to fill his cock. Suddenly, stuff began falling out of Marie's pussy, squeezing his cock to the point of pain. His scream trailed off and turned into whimpers; Marie's eyes were bulging, drool running over his wrists as she struggled with him, her claws tearing into his arms as she fought. Her tongue bulged out, impossibly long and black, striking whip-quick at his face. It stabbed into his open mouth, blocking his heavy panting as it jammed into his throat, fat, surging muscle choking him even as he choked his girlfriend. He could feel something moving in her throat, undulating between his hands.

More liquid gushed from Marie as she viciously fucked his mouth and ass, slapping sounds filling the room. The sex-smell was becoming even stronger, his dick somehow harder than ever even though something, was rooting its way into his urethra. Marie dragged one of his arms away, then the other, freeing herself. He focused his attention on the thing in his throat instead; his lungs were burning, sight graying. The smacking sounds of sex were being drowned out by the buzzing he remembered from heat stroke. Still, he couldn't get her weird gray dick out. His hands slipped against it, the ooze too slick to let him get any bearing.

Too heavy... His fingers were numb, awkward. Too much. It's too much. I can't... He went limp and his eyes rolled back, this time not in pleasure but in unconsciousness.

Darkness. He was sore and something was moving in him, in his ass, in his mouth, wriggling in his cock. Marie's glittering eyes watched him as she pumped into his ass, which was dripping with thick, cold ooze. He could hear something--maybe she was talking, he couldn't tell. He could hardly move. The thing in his mouth was all the way down his throat, sparing only enough space for him to draw in reedy, arduous breaths. It connected them, the wet, gleaming thing, writhing between their mouths. His guts were tying themselves in knots, like he hadn't taken a shit in years, and his asshole felt so stretched out he could have fit a football in it.

He screamed around the long cock. Something else was forcing its way in him--and not for the first time that night by the way it went in, spreading torn flesh. He could smell his own blood amid the come and sweat and earthy stink. A bulge traveled along the tongue as something slithered against his muzzle and then pushed into one nostril, just a tiny irritation compared to the basketball being crammed into him. The thing squeezed by some node buried there and his cock jerked in the cold air, his ejaculation blocked by the tendril. He shook and burned with the denial, pressure building in his balls and the base of his dick, but he could do nothing. Marie's hands caressed his stomach, swollen and twitching with foreign motion.

Tiny rootlets were growing through the lion's penis and into his scrotum, spreading through his genitals. Though not muscular, his form was hardy, and had enough fat deposits for the creature to burn through as it adapted. To him, the change only felt like fire consuming him, wiping every other feeling away, every thought, every bit of awareness.

The thin light of dawn found Jacob drooling dark ooze and saliva blank-eyed onto one of Marie's pillows as his body was worked by the tentacles emerging from her sex. His hips worked in a mockery of love-making, thrusting into the empty air. His red, engorged cock leaked cloudy fluid onto his torso; a film of it striped him from muzzle to navel. His abdomen was swollen, things moving rudely within it. Finally, Marie was emptied and her tongue withdrew from his mouth, dribbling on his face... With Jacob now the new host, curling tentacles from his ass twining around his legs and hers, her body was relieved of the burden for a time.

They grabbed her soon after, as he laid panting and staring at the ceiling. He could feel them lift her, feel the weight of her body pushing his cheeks down into the mattress, the pressure of the tentacles bearing down on his spine and tail. They settled her on top of his hard-on and he began to thrust slowly, unthinkingly. She was every bit as dull-eyed as he, their fur matted, clothing ruined with stains, but they moved together, rutting.

His dick swelled inside her and another length emerged from the split, expanding inside and splitting to enter her ruined cervices. Some species fertilized their own eggs. Some changed gender. But Jacob, he only fucked, his tentacles moving into Marie's mouth and ass to fuel his own mindless pleasure. Everything felt good, now, even the way his body had been warped to accommodate the changes. It all felt good. Everything felt like sex, every touch, every breath, even the pain was good as Marie bit down on him, ground him between her teeth until he came, came, came...

***

Ren squatted over the restrained body in her gray cell, riding its veiny, massive cock. The creature may have once been a bull or a bear or who knew; its gray, furless skin and swollen body made species difficult to tell. Gender would have been questionable as well if not for the near arm-long penis past her cervix now; the thing's knot swelled in her, locking them together. Her thighs and calves burned; she rested her weight against its jiggling abdomen, making it gurgle. Liquid black eyes rolled blindly in its face, slack, long black tongue hanging from its mouth. Its teeth seemed to have dissolved away, eaten by its own body as surely as much of its bone structure had already been. It was little more than a fertilizer-machine now, and Ren...

Her body was more beautiful than ever despite her third trimester stomach. Her breasts had swollen with milk, her fur was lustrous, her scent perpetually advertising heat. Male scientists were no longer allowed in her presence, not after what had happened with the last one.

She thought of it as she humped against the mindless thing, reveling in her revenge. One by one, she'd take them all. Her horde. Sometimes she heard him screaming for her. They'd cut away the ovipositor after she laid in him, yes, but that didn't mean anything. Closing her eyes, she imagined it; him standing between her thighs, believing her sedated because she was still, because her heartbeat was slow. He'd examined her, cold invasive hands in their ugly little gloves, parting her sex, teasing out the seemingly quiescent tentacle with touch. He had clever hands and he'd made her come hard enough to kick, tearing the restraint and smashing the faceplate of his mask in. Oh, the pheromones had him stripping almost instantly; she'd had his dick buried in the root within her before someone thought to sound the alarm. He hadn't, unless the rush of blood to his cock could be called an alarm. After one guard made it into the room only to be knocked out by her tentacles, the room had been locked into quarantine. The idiots hadn't put in the knock-out gas system yet.

Squeezing the creature's balls, she smiled. They'd been forced to watch what she did to him and she knew that they knew she intended it to happen to all of them. More scientists were among the subjects now than civilians. Soft creatures, yes, and the marine's tougher stuff had been welcome. She'd let the doctor fuck her until he was raw from humping her into the bed; her womb had near burst before she extended the ovipositor into his throat and began pumping, mouth to mouth, the kiss of true life. No nirvana matched this; the true amrita was the taste of her come, the gift of a truly eternal life--to always breed, to always multiply, to fuck and eat and fuck.

She was a monster, but she loved it.

His throat had been exquisitely tight around her, all his gagging to no effect as she pushed her offspring into him, then infected his penis, swelling his balls with the chemicals to convert. She knew what her mutations allowed, even if she could not pin down exactly what they had done; while she'd been rooted to him at groin and mouth, she could feel his body as an extension of her own, feel how it changed him, made him more.

This flabby creature had been among the first, but she knew she was near the pinnacle of the thing's first evolutionary cycle. She was no passive host; she was integrated, the 4.0, elite. The female marine had been more enjoyable; a mastiff, she had a fine body, and Ren had enjoyed the role reversal of predator and prey. This bunny went for the kill. Fucking a woman had been liberating, thick swarm of tentacles moving between them, filling the marine with Ren's seed. Yes. She shuddered around the cock, feeling a tendril slip inside it. They'd tried to prevent this after that event, but they couldn't win. They never learned enough.

Stupidly allowing them to breed just to further research. If they had had any sense of self-preservation, every hint of the contagion would have been destroyed with fire at the start. The creature whimpered as its cock was widened from the inside, ruined as her laying tentacle sought its enlarged testes. It would carry her children now that she had no more use for it. Leisurely, she pushed against it, the knot shredded already. Black blood spilled between them as she worked, pumping it full of fertilized eggs, filling the birthing cavity its distended abdomen had become. The penis healed around her, whole and flaccid.

A surprise birthday party waited. If only she could mark her calendar.

***

Marie grunted as the last of her brood dropped out of her gaping pussy in a surge of thick fluid, strings of sticky gray still connecting her to the latest of her squirming gray offspring. The tub she squatted over swarmed with life engaged in an unending orgy of devouring as the slimy larvae fed on their smaller, slower, less lucky kindred in order to grow stronger. In the end, there would only be one left. They were becoming more intelligent all the time, Marie thought, smiling vaguely as she stroked the amorphous form of the largest where it waited beneath her for more siblings to swallow. She giggled as it tried to digest her finger, but its acids were too weak to harm her. To her body, its fluids were no more serious than a do-it-yourself facial peel.

Naked and dripping, she returned to the bedroom. Her stomach was washboard flat now and the muscles defined in a way her body had never seen. Things were much the same with Jacob; where he used to have a paunch and the slightly flabby limbs of a geek who never worked out, he had taut, bunching muscles that made women stop and stare. Fuck, fuck, fuck you way to a new you! thought a faintly hysterical portion of her mind, which was soon stifled by her new concerns.

The problem with a high sex drive was hunger. They were always hungry, always eating, eating, eating when they weren't breeding. Marie's apartment reeked with the stench of sex old and new and hadn't been cleaned in months, but nowhere could one find food or anything that had once been food. The first month she had only gone out to forage while Jacob's body changed to accommodate its new purpose; she was the only one suitable for public eyes. Everything organic in the apartment had been devoured before she left, massive with Jacob's spawn. They'd eaten the plants, the potting soil, the cotton sheets, the down filler of the pillows, even the weaker of the offspring, the firstborn, who came too early or misshapen, swallowing them still pathetically wriggling.

Marie's bedroom had been striped with the mucous of the couple's transformed bodies until the place looked like the inside of a wet, living cocoon. Not a bit of wall or the original furnishings was visible. The bed had become something of a dais, where a moistly-gleaming shape now twitched. A rare hermaphrodite had fallen for Marie, who brought the deer--a doe as the thing had wanted to be known then--back to her territory. The change had taken a few weeks, the first few days of which had demanded Marie's total attention. Now, though, the creature only whimpered pathetically on occasion. Infertile, like most of the intersexed, the doe had been attending support group sessions for the hermaphroditic when Marie seduced her. She'd wanted to have children, she told Marie; well, now she'd have all the children she wanted.

The doe's body seemed to have melded with the mucous of the room, her limbs dissolving away from the inside into appendages not much different from Jacob's tentacles, albeit in need of constant moisture. Her hairless belly bulged, so full that the shadows of her latest brood could be seen moving within. Seeing Marie's shadow, she moaned.

"Hungry?" Marie asked solicitously, and then passed through the room and into the kitchen, where she opened the fridge and pulled out a hunk of bloody steak before returning.

The doe whimpered frantically, eyes rolling wildly, so Marie climbed up on the bed and straddled the doe's muzzle so her cold, damp nose parted the folds of flesh. She whuffed as Marie knelt over her face, beginning to tear into the raw meat. Then the doe opened her mouth and greedily extended the thick, phallic appendage her tongue had become, a hollow thing that rubbed between Marie's labia before finding the opening and striking up into the cheetah's slick depths to suck at the fluids still trickling down. Marie arched her back and rode the doe's face, swallowing the last of the meat and sucking at her fingers in satisfaction as the doe's tongue pushed further in, slipping against the g-spot.

"Yesss," she hissed, clamping her thighs around the doe's skull. "C'moooonnnnnnn...." The tongue wasn't wide enough, not vigorous enough; the touch against the hotspot was only a tease despite the doe's desperate hunger. Marie needed to take the edge off before she went hunting and every time she needed more. Ignoring the thing's pleading grunts, Marie pushed down and mounted her muzzle and fucked herself on it, drenching the doe's face and suffocating her. Still, the doe's tongue thrust in her, sucking frantically as Marie's vagina flooded with the stimulation. Arousal deepened the fog that had filled Marie's mind since she fled the lab and she humped mindlessly, the tentacle in her womb slipping out slightly to tangle with the doe's tongue. "Yesss..." Every muscle in her body seized and with a tight sigh she came, pumping fluid into her captive.

She slumped forward for a moment in the afterglow of release, but the doe was frantically trying to pull her muzzle free, and so Marie rose after a moment. The tongue came free with a smat of suction, gobs of thick mucous dribbling down the doe's face. If the thing hadn't been so frantic for food and... Sensation, it might have cried, Marie thought. She stroked the doe's belly and cooed to her, feeling the brood moving beneath the skin, each already articulated and likely devouring the others. Hot strings of semen striped the cool, naked flesh; Marie rubbed them in while she murmured to the doe, whose still-tumescent cock swelled yearningly.

After a while, the hunger stirred in Marie, and she dressed herself in a loose, white sweater that faked decency and a black skirt that flaunted it. It was time to shop.

***

Jacob's hips snapped back and forth against the fox's ass, his balls slapping between the bent-over man's thighs. They were in the fox's ("Just call me Will," he'd said, grinning at Jacob on the lion's first day at the office) apartment, where Will's wife was twisting in torment as Jacob's tentacles assaulted her every orifice, her struggles jerking the tentacles like the most exquisitely rough handjob ever given. Jacob held Will down over the desk with one hand pressed against the middle of his back, forcing the breath out of him with every hard thrust. The fox's harsh grunts punctuated the sounds of his wife's terrified whimpers as Jacob wore her out. He couldn't present eggs, but he could convert... And like any dedicated disciple, he spread the word through action.

The sweat spreading along the armpits and down the back of Will's white shirt smelled like pure sex; Jacob fisted his hand in the cotton, nails tearing at it. Their pants were barely halfway-down, Will's boxers shreds. Jacob didn't wear any; easy access was key.

Finally he felt the release from his ass that signaled implantation; there was a slurp as the tentacle buried itself in the raven's quivering cloaca. In a few days, she'd be as Marie was. In his more lucid moments, in the time after consecutive exhausting releases, Jacob thought that the feeling wasn't unlike taking a huge dump. The tentacles continued to toy with the woman, ensuring that she would be too exhausted to harass Jacob as he worked her husband.

One of Jacob's tentacles was fucking the man's mouth, blinding him with pheromones. Those had developed more slowly and smelled faintly feminine, somewhat like the musk of a dominant female in heat. His own smell kept Jacob in a constant state of half-hardness, his dick always leaking; now, though, he could find relief in this man, and he strove for it, his frenzied pumping slamming the fox's hard dick into the edge of his desk over and over. Will was far beyond feeling it; he was equally delirious, straining to take in more of Jacob's cock, meeting the lion thrust for thrust, his nails scraping the desk as he fought for leverage. They both dripped with sweat, Jacob bloody with marks of combat, Will slick with the lubrication from Jacob's tentacles. Jacob had only been able to half-prepare his ass, driven into blind lust by the feel of the tight hole. Now the friction between them burned as Jacob's barbs scoured Will, opening him further to the effects of Jacob's strange seed.

Will uttered a strangled yowl and stiffened; a hot, salty scent bloomed, and Jacob knew Will had come. The knowledge spurred Jacob over the edge; he slammed into the fox's ass a few more times, then semen burst from him, so much that his balls ached as they emptied into the man. Panting, Jacob pulled out, dick bobbing. Come spilled out of Will's ass onto the floor, pink-tinged gray. Jacob stepped away carefully and dropped Will's limp wife. As he backed out of the apartment, he saw Will pick himself up and sway for a moment before lunging for his wife.

Jacob allowed himself a moment's delay to see what would happen, real curiosity piercing the urge to find another convert. Will hauled his wife up and threw her bodily onto the desk, knocking off the remaining frames and pens he and Jacob hadn't cleared off in their own mating. Lining himself up between his half-dead wife's legs, he began to piston, tearing at her ruined blouse. A pretty pair, Jacob mused, before tearing his eyes away from the holes in the back of Will's shirt. "Seeya, man." Will only grunted.

***

Marie smiled demurely at the teenaged jackrabbit at the checkout counter. He kept making the same error as he rang up the array of phallic vegetables and bottles she'd bought as a calculated move; he couldn't tear his eyes away from the slightly darker shapes of her nipples beneath the white sweater. When he finally finished, the till added up to nearly double the cost of what she'd actually purchased, but she let the slack-jawed bag boy put everything up before she leaned across the counter, dragging a finger beneath the jackrabbit's chin. His nametag said, "Hello, my name is George!"

"George," she breathed, making his ears twitch in nervous arousal, "I need to talk to you... Somewhere private. Do you know a place?" She smoothed one hand down over her stomach, feeling the shift that was the source of her twanging hunger. The image of what she'd do to this boy was starting to make her salivate.

He stuttered something incomprehensible as the bag boy looked on in total awe. It was fortunate that the rest of the store was empty. Finally giving up on words, George just nodded, and almost ran to the back of the store. Following at a more sedate pace, Marie passed through the still-swinging door behind the meat counter, where a gristly old cow looked on in maternal disapproval. Marie just grinned, showing her sharp white teeth, then shoved the gaping boy through the door right behind him.

The bathroom. Amazingly, it was clean--someone, she mused, had to have cleaned it up in preparation for a health code inspection. "Sit," Marie said, shoving him down on the floor before the sink. He resisted for a second before she flipped her skirt up with one hand, revealing her golden-furred mons. He wrapped his trembling, damp hands around her thighs and bent, nudging her mound with his hot, dry nose before taking a tentative lick. "That's a good boy," she sighed, and grasped his chestnut-brown ears to drag him in. He grunted, but it seemed to be the exact encouragement he needed; before long, he was lapping needily at her cunt, one palm frantically jerking his dick.

She needed a better angle than this... She backed up, skirt falling off the boy's face. His muzzle glistened with her juices and he licked at them, eyes bright with lust. Not releasing his grip on himself, he walked forward on his knees as she lifted her thighs in a clear invitation. The cold air on her wet lips was delicious, but the sex-starved slurp of his tongue against her clit was better. "Harder," she bit out, wrapping her thighs around his head. He tensed for a second and she let up... She would have to trap him more slowly.

He panted into her, hot breath tickling her opening, then ate her out with a hunger rivaling her own, nipping, sucking, nuzzling into her sex as though it would be his last time. Slowly, she drew him in closer, increment by excruciating increment. In her excitement, the hard, ridged shaft of her ovipositor was slipping from her womb, the tentacle slipping out atop it. In one swift movement, she locked her knees around him and thrust the ovipositor down his throat. The tentacle snaked out of the corner of his drooling mouth, looping around his throat to hold him before slithering further down his body to coil around his dick, binding his hand there as well.

Her muscles rippled against his skull as he struggled, trying to pull away; however, the squeeze of her tentacle around his penis frightened him enough that the fight was half-hearted. He, intelligently enough, didn't want to risk being unmanned--and conveniently, she also didn't desire that for him. The pale tendril emerged from the tip of her tentacle, slipping against the wet tip of his softening dick as it sought the slit. Finding it, it wriggled in. He gurgled unattractively against the rippling length sliding down his throat, one of his hands clenching just above her knee.

The clenching movement of his throat undulated against her ovipositor, stretched to his full length in his esophagus. It was just narrow enough to allow him to breathe, shallow and painful though it was; the motion was the most intimate massage a girl could imagine, sheer heaven that triggered her internal muscles. Deep inside, the egg began its journey, getting squeezed through the rings of cartilage in her shaft in peristaltic heaves. Marie's head dropped back as she panted, so turned on she hurt. Her body trembled as she pushed the egg down, down, down, forcing it through his maw and down his throat, choking him. Unable to cough, all he could do was swallow, try to pull the invader down into his stomach to be destroyed; that was his body's idea, anyway, and it would prove to be its downfall.

Her tendril wormed down through his urethra, through the prostate gland that gave a helpless twinge of wincing pleasure, threading past the seminal vesicle and into the vas deferens, all the way into the testis where the tip broke off and coiled in his sack. The tendril retreated back into her tentacle to bud again. Her ovipositor recoiled from his throat, carrying the taint of bile along with saliva; she cried out in ecstasy as the ribs retracted through her and her orgasm drooled over the boy's muzzle and onto the floor, a pool of gray fluid. Dazed, the boy stayed still and on his knees as the tentacle unwound itself and shrank away within her. "Good boy," she whispered in his limp ears and licked his mouth with her sandpaper tongue until all her taste was gone. She tucked a slip of paper with her address into his pocket and left him on his knees in the bathroom.

***

The half-mad doe trapped in the apartment screamed as the first contraction took her, rippling through her womb like a tidal wave. Her body was melding with the tissue spread by the other two, whose excretions lived and multiplied and metabolized everything the living mass touched. Her awareness had stretched beyond her psyche's breaking point; she sensed more than thought now, every sensation taut and strung out, every vibration a play on pleasure-pain that made her nervous system sing.

The tremors in her belly had been going on for quite some time, since she last came with the cheetah's thighs clamped around her head. She'd come until her balls were empty, each wrenching orgasm dry and agonizing. The hollow ache drove her insane, making her tense her withering muscles to find some friction, some release to the compelling impulse to rut. Her breasts were distended, sagging down to her sides, so heavy with un-touched milk that even the whisper of air over them felt like a tightening vise. She squealed while her body pushed at the burden in her belly, her water breaking and gushing out onto the floor. The spawn burst out of her in a flood of teeming, boneless limbs, voraciously gorging themselves on each other as they tumbled out, the less vigorous swallowed whole by the stronger.

As the pressure lessened, the little creatures, her babies, her dear ones, those still left within her had to struggle out, wiggling down her passage and making her weak, floppy pelvis jiggle as she tried to hump the air. Finally, the last one plopped out, only to be absorbed in the bulk of the survivor.

"My... Baby," the doe mumbled as the thing's tentacles slapped up onto its surrogate's body. Hunger temporarily sated by the substance of its siblings, it knew one desire now; to mount. Its thready limbs began to coalesce into thicker and thicker cords until muscular appendages wrapped themselves around the doe, who bubbled happily, beyond words at the embrace of her offspring.

The flat stretch of its core tightened, puckering into the doe's stretched, destroyed passage, and began humping, the smacking of the fucking beating out a sloshing rhythm. Even as it worked its mother, the thing developed itself, building its form with the material of the doe. "Mother," it gurgled, thrusting even as it dissolved her, became her.

***

George lay prone in the bathroom, hot forehead pressed against the cool porcelain base of the toilet. He'd passed through the last phase of convulsions that had made his heels hammer against the cabinet, rattling the cans and rolls of toilet paper inside it. His pants, pushed down to his knees, had trapped his legs, preventing much more noise than that and his phlegmatic whimpers. His nose and mouth dribbled, adding to the gray come smeared over the linoleum by his helpless body. His hand had stayed wrapped around his burning dick as flames burned through him, spreading from his sac and stomach in a ravening burst.

Even as he was scorched with the fever, he jerked off, dick bloating in his first. His balls were so swollen he'd had to spread his legs as far as he could; they were still painfully pinched between his thighs, and it was an effort to keep them apart. He was too weak to move his jeans... Mentally, he cursed himself for the vanity that made him steal his sister's pants, but there was nothing he could do now. Something was stirring behind his balls, pushing up from the skin there. It should have hurt, but he could barely feel anything but the length of it pushing out, questing between his legs as it grew.

Finally, he pulled his sticky hand off his cock. Like an automaton, he pulled his pants up, and then stood, buttoning them. The thing pushing out of him moved against his leg, pushing between it and the tight fabric. It was like sticking his dick in a tight bitch and it made his tumid cock twitch.

Sick, he thought fuzzily, and stumbled out the bathroom door, through the storage area, and out one of the unloading docks, where the potheads slurred their hellos to him. He said nothing, lurching out to where his junker was parked.

The drive home was hell. The thing was curling around his leg, squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing. A dark line spiraled down the pants leg where it had snaked around and was oozing something that smelled like the cheetah chick's snatch. George's throat was wet with drool, ropes of it dripping down onto his lap where his dick tented the pants, trapped against the teeth of his zipper.

He walked half-blind into the elevator of his dorm; he had to swipe his keycard three times, each of the first two swipes being too fast for it to read. Finally, he made it into his suite and slammed the door behind him and locked it before collapsing to the floor. Somewhere beyond the blessed wall separating himself from the rest of the world one of his roommates yelped a startled curse, but George could hardly care as he wrestled his pants down, blood pounding in his ears.

The tendril was gray and thickening in time with his pulse; it was drawing from him somewhere, probably, but he couldn't say how he knew it. He loosened it, pulled it up in front. Mine. In his clouded brain he realized something was different, wrong, but his balls were about to burst, so he just laid down on his bed and yanked on his dick. It was longer. Thicker. Darker, even. The color... He curled the tentacle around his balls, squeezing them as he jerked frantically. It wasn't enough. He let go long enough to fumble at a drawer beside his bed, pulling out Vaseline and slathering his hands in it before grabbing himself in one and stuffing his ass with the fingers of his other, pumping violently.

He blacked out somewhere around the third orgasm, ass tightening around his three buried fingers.

When he came to, he stripped his shirt off; he'd sweated in his sleep, matting his fur as though he'd just come out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist and scrubbed his hand against his cheek, flaking away the dried drool. He could barely close the towel around his waist and held the gap pinched between his claws. His guts rumbled. Gotta shit... A shower too, he thought vaguely, and stumbled out of his room. A splash of color on the counter caught his eye. Mail? He pushed through it and picked up a yellow manila envelope addressed to Aaron. Realtor. He tore it open, blood pounding in his ears, fluffing his fur. New lease... A door clicked and the coyote in question backed out of his bedroom and locked the door behind him.

George's lips peeled back from his teeth, neat paperwork dangling from his fingers. Aaron took a few steps in the room, then hesitated, sniffing, before seeing the jackrabbit. "You... Alright, G?" Aaron's ears lowered and flicked back and forth, his eyes a little wide. "You sick or something?"

"Or something," George tried to say, but something caught in his throat and he hacked, trying to dislodge it, dropping the paper to cover his mouth.

"G?" Aaron. Always so attentive. So polite. George gasped for breath. Trying to leave him. Aaron rejected him so delicately. Didn't want to hurt his pride. Wanted to be friends. Something within George heaved, churning, popping the corner of the towel from his grip as he surrendered and dropped it to clutch at his throat as he bent double and coughed, harsh barks as he tried to spit up whatever was in his throat. Aaron laid a hand on his back as the force of the coughing wracked his body and forced an inch of slick tentacle into his dick from the inside, just like before. He shuddered at the heat that rushed through him and sucked in a rasping breath, then fell forward to his knees as the thing stuck in him forced him to wretch. It poked out of his throat, bumping the back of his teeth.

"Hkkggg!" he tried to warn Aaron, who couldn't see. The coyote smelled like sweet spice and faint, fresh sweat. And concern. Yes. Aaron's hand curled around the back of George's neck as he crouched beside the jackrabbit; the tentacle protruded forward as his dick hardened. He looked up into Aaron's yellow eyes and grabbed a belt loop, jerking them together until they fell back, Aaron on top.

"What!" George slapped a hand over Aaron's mouth and tore at his pants as the coyote tried to bat his hands away, still in shock. The jackrabbit ripped the zipper open and popped the elastic band of his tighty whities, breath wheezing around the tentacle in his throat. Something else was pushing up, too, and as it rose, he could breath more easily. He moaned at the pressure of Aaron's thigh between his legs, pressing his hard dick into the coarse fabric of his pants, dampening them. He hooked one leg around Aaron's, who struggled to rise, getting back to his knees only for George to rip his pants and underwear down. He smiled, mouth gaping; his own scent rose through the room, twining with the sharp stink of Aaron's terror. The tentacle rose from his throat, twining lazily through the air.

The coyote struggled away; George used the movement to pull his pants down and simultaneously to get up himself, following the coyote and snagging a hip as he turned away. On his feet in an instant, the jackrabbit took advantage of Aaron's imbalance to shove him forward onto the couch's back and penetrate his bare ass with a pelvic stab that slammed the coyote into the cough and made him howl. The dry thrust dragged a gasp from George, air whistling through the hollow tube smashed against the tentacle in his throat. The things in his guts wriggled; he felt the tendril pushing deeper into the coyote and shivered, standing there as he tried to adjust to the sensation. Hot, tight ass clamping around him like a vise, exquisite; his mind yammered in the periphery as his eyes drifted closed. Another tentacle slipped out of his slack jaw, dripping slime down the terrified coyote's nape. George bent over his curved back, pressing his swollen stomach against Aaron's spine, stroking a hand over his furry sheath. The coyote's balls were still in his body, as mating season hadn't come for his kind yet. George felt the head of the tentacle swell deep within the other boy and huffed a laugh.

With a yelp, the coyote tore away, twisting beneath George and almost--not quite--freeing himself. The tentacle stretched from George's body, linking them together. The tie had formed. White come gushed out with every inch pulled out of his cockhead, dribbling down the floor. The coyote stumbled with pants-bound ankles, half-falling into the kitchen. He scrabbled at the drawers and pulled out a knife.

***TBC sometime--Next: Entropy Means Coming Apart.***