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It had occurred to Timothy--once--as a younger tiger to ask his friends why, exactly, it was referred to as blue balls. That dull ache of pent up need, paired with a lack of holes to fuck. His friends' ideas had been as absurd as his own, and after careful debate the matter had been relegated back to the realm of personal opinion. The boy had grown, and time had been wasted on adult endeavors, rather than the careful thought needed to answer the question. Now, as he lay out beneath the softly swaying branches of a willow tree, the tiger found himself in a position to ponder it once more.

The returning interest was due, in no small part, to the hearty throb the naked tiger felt in his own sac. The distended flesh of his balls--swollen to the size of cantaloupes brimming with juice--rested between his spread legs. Toes curling in the hallelujah trails of light which snuck through the wavering branches of the tree, the feline let out a contented sigh. The collie who had fed the sudden growth in his cock and balls had long since stopped moved, given a proper end in the cum-rich testes of the powerful tiger.

"Just about time for y'er funeral I think, boy" purrr'ed the dozing predator. He had already blown one load shortly after taking the young collie, but this would be the real send-off, he could feel it. The purr sputtered as Timothy rolled over, the roots which had served as his recliner creaking gently with the sudden release from his weight. Pushing himself up to his knees, the broad-shouldered cat allowed a single finger to slide along the underside of his half-erect prick. His balls sagged, roiling with the viscous fluid and lingering dog fur trapped within them. "I'd get ya a coffin, but all I got is this tree", he added, the feigned contriteness in his voice added only for the tiger's sole pleasure; who else was there to enjoy his wit, after all?

Even as he spoke, the large cat's body began to slide against the side of the tree. Rough bark replaced the well-calloused pads on his own paws, and Timothy let out a throaty groan that danced amidst the sun-scented breeze which tickled his back. The spines on his dick flared, and the bark's surface sent shots of pleasure with each scrape of his black meat against it. The male's cock grew, throbbing heatedly with each inch of it that filled out, until it was an iron pillar jutting from his hips. Tail swaying, the tiger pressed his paws against the tree, hips pushing out and head lowering. Looking as though he were presenting to some would-be lover, the spread-legged male used the position to watch as he stroked himself off.

Cock hovering in the air, the tiger closed a paw around its base, leaving the other to keep him supported by the tree's trunk.

"This'll be a good one, kid. A real whiz-banger" groaned the self-satisfied feline.

His tail swayed, and Timothy moaned, and his dick silently accepted the speedy pumps of the cat's fist. As the first drops of pre-cum leaked from his tip, the cat was locked in the throes of an ecstasy afforded by his post-meal releases. Somewhere out there were boys fighting to survive, and hoping to see him die first, and here he was fist-fucking one of those very boys out into the roots of a tree as a dollop of cream. Who's next? Timothy thought viciously, lips pulling back and eyes closing as he imagined the look on his next victim's face.

The area was silent except for the sounds of the tiger masturbating. Soft grunts and a few barely stifled roars float on the air, silencing even the birdsong that had permeated the treetops when Timothy had risen. When he came, it was the show he had expected.

A low dribble of increasingly cloudy fluid escaped Timothy, like the first tentative drops from a showerhead before the water pressure kicked in. The rest came quickly, pumping out of the cat's engorged cock in a thick stream. He roared as deeply and as lustfully as he ever had, the claws on his tree-bound paw digging into the bark as though it were tissue paper. He could feel his balls seizing up, constricting slightly as they emptied themselves all over the tangled roots of the willow tree. Strands of dog hair--the only remains of poor Caleb--mingled with the runny white tigercream as it ran down the side of the tree, and soaked into the ground.

The tiger allowed himself the simple pleasure of his own musk, the paw clutching his meat pressing it flat against his belly. He could feel the steady pumps of his cum as it painted the already white fur of his belly; he could wash later, but right now he wanted to rub that little bitch of a dog's remains in his fur like shampoo. The methods he could use to demean the dead canine were as vast as the depths of his own depravity. It was only movement from the corner of his eye that saved the departed collie any further indignities than those he had already suffered.

"Second course", Timothy panted. His orgasm was fading, and the afterglow only helped steel the tiger's resolve to see another boy end up as another cum splatter on another tree.

The movement had been heading through a small copse nearby. Though one could argue they were already in a forest, the trees became noticeably more clumped and shadowy in the direction the male's new prey had gone. Licking his lips , and hoping he found some water along the way, Timothy hopped off of the nest of roots, leaving his cum to puddle at its base as his shaft--now much closer to its original, though still impressive, size--slid dejectedly back into his sheath. The hunt came naturally to the predator, and he dropped to a crouch, wincing slightly as his balls brushed distractingly against his inner thighs; another twenty minutes and they'll be their natural size. Goddamn. why did this guy have to show up so soon? The displeasuring thought clouded Timothy's head as he stalked his would-be victim.

The sun hadn't yet hit its peak, and the tiger took his time. The scent was unlike anything he'd smelled before, but that only made it easier to follow; nothing else around it came close to it, it was as if it were alien to everything else. Timothy could have followed it with only one nostril, and it was getting stronger. As distinctive as it was, however, Timothy allowed his entire focus to shrink upon it. Everything else was just visual static to this olfactory symphony. The webbing that slowly began to appear across the increasingly short gaps between the branches overhead, and the occasional skull peeking from the foliage underfoot, were missed entirely; only the prey mattered.

Pushing apart some bushes, the touch of which prompted Timothy to subconsciously shake a paw as though he were trying to clear it of something sticky, the tiger found that prey. It was as alien as the smell was, and shock stayed the tiger briefly. About thirty feet away stood a creature that even gave the mighty tiger pause. It was huge! Like some grey-skinned bigfoot straight from the freakshow, it must have been 9 feet tall, from Timothy's estimates. Four muscle-toned arms--one pair of arms set behind the other--burst from a broad torso below an animal-shaped skull, from which four eyes as black as eight balls stared. The curled rams' horns atop its head made the tiger wonder if this was some kind of devil from Hell, come to claim him. Only the look on the creature's face kept him from believing this for long; it was clearly lost, and devils didn't get lost, did they?

The creature turned, its tail sliding through the grass at its feet as it tried to gather its bearings. It was vulnerable, and despite its size, Timothy could already feel his confidence returning. Licking his teeth and stroking the re-hardening cock-- which was already slipping back from his sheath after its brief nap--the tiger readied himself to pounce.

A sudden pain in the back of his neck halted him! Gasping out when he'd intended to yell, the tiger found his throat suddenly constricting itself. A weight gently placed itself against his back, and as the increasingly puffy flesh of his neck fought to turn his head, he saw the bulbous ass of... something... bouncing about behind him; the greasy looking body's owner was obscured by Timothy's large body and increasingly unresponsive muscles. Legs shaking--as only the sudden paralysis seemed to allow them to support his body--the tiger's eyes rolled about frantically in his sockets. The creature had not noticed this sudden development, still pre-occupied with getting its bearings in the shadow-pocketed woods.

Timothy was left to feel the sensation of something exploring his back, unaware of what that something was until long spindly legs appeared around the sides of his chest, like arms seeking to trap him in a bear hug from behind. A sudden and irresistible fear suddenly gripped Timothy, he knew what had those kinds of legs, but these were too big! Far too big! The only sound that came from the cat was a slowly gurgled burble of terror as his eyes tried to follow those legs to their source. Jaw hanging slack and tongue limply laying against his lips, the tiger's body may as well have been made of stone. When the first strands of silken thread wafted across his face, the tiger couldn't help but faint.

Silent-Hunter sighed, muttering to himself in some undecipherable language. The words were foreign but the tone was familiar, the obvious curses escaping him in a string. Where the hell was he!? A simple scout-and-report mission, and he had to crash. He'd be lucky to escape a public execution when he reported his situation back to his superiors; if he could find something of worth on this planet, however, it would certainly bolster his chances of surviving their anger. Clothes burned off in the crash, and his weapons lost in the initial hull breach which had downed him, the Vanguard had no choice but to find his way out of these woods.

Standing amidst the trees he couldn't help but admire how ugly this planet truly was. What could he possibly find of worth here!? An unexpected noise in a bank of bushes thirty feet away pulled the alien away from his self-pity. Dropping one of his two arms--which made up the front set-- to his outer thigh, another string of foreign curses accompanied the memory that he had no weapons. The wildlife on this planet had been deemed dangerous by HQ, and he had come well-prepared, though sadly it seemed he'd been prepared for the wrong scenario. Flexing all four meaty hands, the Vanguard sheathed his claw-tipped toes into the dirt beneath him before beginning to approach the sound. Heavy-set digitigrade legs made short work of the thirty feet, and as he approached the bushes he held his arms out ready to grapple and crush whatever may be there.

Nothing.

A patch of compressed grass on the far side of the bush earned a closer look from the alien scout. Something had been here, but he saw no clues as to where it went. Frowning around the small curved tusks at either end of his mouth, the alien looked about curiously. Nothing. Growling under his breath, the large male rose back to his full imposing height. Had he looked up, he'd have seen the tiger rising silently into the branches above. Face down and hips hanging in the same direction, the tiger's muzzle was caught in a web-like gag that doubled as a sling to lift him with. Another intricate lasso of glistening strands held his legs together, acting as a counter-balance to the loop around his head. Nothing supported those hips, however, and they hung helplessly in the air, prick pointing downwards towards the oblivious alien.

By the time Silent thought to look up, there was nothing to see. The tiger was gone. Bleating out an intricate series of noises that gave the impression of someone talking to himself, the Vanguard turned to leave. Another sound rippled through the silent air, but this time the alien paid it no mind; Silent had more important things to do than chase phantoms through the forest! Those phantoms had no such distraction, however. Only several feet away from the spot where Timothy had met something more dangerous than himself, Silent-Hunter felt a flash of pain right between his shoulder-blades.

The gentle weight of something attaching itself to his massive frame was met with a violent twist of the male's upper-body. The rear pair of arms grappled at the unseen attacker with the speed of a python, and the alien's agility was rewarded with the feeling of something large but sleek fighting against his grip. Muscles bulging as he wrenched his assailant free, the Vanguard heard it hit the ground; he turned to resume his attack immediately.

Claw-tipped legs kicking, the massive black body of a spider writhed in the underbrush. The abnormally large arachnid's front two legs spasmed and curled in the air as though seeking out its intended prey even as it sought to right itself. Disgust curling his lip at the bulbous and distended form, Silent-Hunter's foot came down on its exposed abdomen swiftly. Black ichor squelched between his toes, claws tearing through the creature's exoskeleton as though it were made of tissue. The spider let out a hideous squeal that soon faded into silence as its legs curled in on its shuddering body. Removing his foot, the Vanguard rubbed it along the grass even as his voice spat a series of alien insults at the would-be predator.

Silent-Hunter's back reminded him of his close call with a growing heat that seemed to radiate from between his shoulders. What kind of creature had that disgusting thing been? The alien had seen nothing like it before, and the thought of poison was foreign to his xenomorphic mind. The effects of the poison, however, was only delayed by his physiology, not stopped. While the tiger had fallen victim to it quickly, for Silent it was a slower process. The heat in his back soon became a dull itch; the itch soon faded into a gnawing numbness which continued to spread its silken tendrils through his body until every corner of his trembling frame was disconnected from his racing mind.

Falling to his knees, the alien let out a bleat of despair, black eyes wide as they looked about frantically. Soon, even that small ability was denied him and the mighty Vanguard toppled to the grassy undergrowth with an anti-climactic thud. When the first of the spiders came to investigate their second catch, Silent-Hunter was in no position to stop them. Like the tiger before him, the alien could feel the surprisingly gentle progress of their feet as they clambered back and forth across his helpless form. The sun was blotted out by their passage in the treetops above; the death of one of the hunters had seemingly garnered the attention of the nest.

Webbing floated across his vision, resting across his face before being pulled taut as though he were a ship about to be hauled in by its tether. Grunting out, Silent-Hunter could do little more than twitch his fingers as the colony of predators had their way with him. They bound his legs, claws tracing across his belly as he was rolled over onto his side. Perhaps it was the poison, but the alien couldn't help but shiver at the almost sensual touches of the creatures who had captured him. His ashen coloured cock slide from the internal sheath at his crotch, its pointed tip curled up slightly as it pushed its way out. Wide-eyed and terrified, the alien tried to bleat out a cry of shame, but the webbing was too tight and his muscles far too contracted for anything more than a guttural grumble to escape his clenched lips.

The spiders knew their work well, and it wasn't long before the ground was dropping away beneath him. Lifted up into the trees, the alien's large body posed little trouble for the determined predators. Soon, as with the tiger, there was no sign Silent-Hunter had been there at all, save for the indent his body had left in the undergrowth so far below. Gripping his consciousness by only the most supple of strands, Silent-Hunter's fortitude allowed him the view of where he was heading.

Above the mid-branches of the forest lay another world. Dark, with only the occasional glimmer of sunlight making its way through the webs which enshrouded the area, a realm of death and shadow awaited him. Webbing ran between the trees in thick tufts, platforms and walls of the sticky material creating an obstacle course for any who found this place without having been caught already. Amidst the webbing hung furs, plenty of them, some little more than skeletal frames entombed in errant strands of web, while others appeared fresher. Terrified expressions frozen on their dead faces, thick tongues hung from slack jaws. A few still wriggled with the last vestiges of life, and even as Silent watched a grey-furred lapine let out a shriek as a spider slid up his side and sunk its fangs into his chest. Feeding off of the captured male as though he were a fly, the spider paid little attention to its meal's cries, sucking the very vitality from his body with all the ethical consideration of a man eating soup. Silent did not see the result, whisked past the scene even as the rabbit's increasingly glassy eyes followed his progress.

A brown-haired horse, his legs spread in the webbing and his massive prick jutting up from the shroud of webbing that held his thighs to a spiraling creation of gossamer thread behind him, cried out for help as Silent was trundled past him.

"Please! Save me!" As though he couldn't see that the Vanguard was in no shape to save himself, let alone another. The thin veil of webbing across the equine's face made sure this was just the case, however, his cries a plea to any who may hear rather than Silent in particular. His cock bobbed with the slow struggles of his muscular body, and despite his peril, pre-cum dripped from his tip. Silent's own cock grew harder at the sight, as though his own impending fate within the confines of this colony had awoken in it some final need to procreate before it was destroyed.

Silent soon found himself hung in the larder like the others. The spiders which carried his hulking frame moved with a delicacy which contrasted their swollen bodies. They hung him upside down, his now rock hard prick falling against his belly as webbing encased his throat and thighs. Legs spread, as though the spiders enjoyed showcasing their prey's engorged malehoods, the Vanguard was left to simply dangle amongst his fellow victims. A tiger beside him seemed as fresh as the alien was, though the paralytic poison was beginning to wear off and the feline had begun to struggle vigorously against his bonds.

"LET ME OUT! I'LL STEP ON EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU!" Sounds which meant nothing to Silent-Hunter tumbled from the strange fur-bearing creature, and the spiders seemed disinterested in whatever the tiger was saying. The poison's effects continued to hinder Silent, and as it finally found its way into his mind, the Vanguard found darkness creeping into the corners of his vision. Panic-gripped and unable to express it in any way, save the occasional roll of his eyes, the male's eventual slide into unconscious met its inevitable conclusion with a gentle sigh that rang more of relief than anything.

By the time Silent-Hunter awoke, the treetops had grown darker. Night had fallen while the alien had been unconscious, and only the eldritch glow of some kind of fungus which hugged the trees allowed him to see anything at all.

The tiger beside him had grown silent, and the alien realized the shadowy shape of a spider on him had probably played some part in that. The tiger's head had rolled backwards, his wide eyes staring straight upwards as though there were something of interest to actually see amongst the shadows. His body twitching, the feline's 'friend' had buried its head beneath his armpit and it only took a few seconds for Silent to realize it was likely feeding. The colour that had graced the tiger's cheeks before had long since disappeared. An unhealthy pallor had replaced it; the white of the tiger's face was made all the more noticeable by the odd glow the nearby fungus had bathed it in. His chest looked sunken beneath the spider's body, and the male's arms--which had earlier looked thick and powerful--seemed to have grown feeble, as though the muscle had been sucked right out of them. Even as the half-conscious alien watched, the tiger's body continued to shrink, as though his insides themselves were being drained by the predator's bite.

Even as its owner gurgled out a pathetic mewl, the tiger's cock was the only part of him that still seemed to hold any life. His heavy-set balls bounced and jostled with the involuntary twitches of his dying body, but even they were beginning to shrink and wrinkle as though they were aging rapidly before Silent's horrified eyes. Skeletal features popping beneath his skin, the tiger's head lolled, as though his neck were no longer able to properly support it. The male's dying eyes fell on Silent-Hunter, and the tiger's tongue slipped from between his lips in an expression that he'd no doubt have found embarrassing if he were still capable of rational thought.

The tiger's cock popped suddenly, and like rats deserting a sinking ship, his cum arched out in an impressive geyser of self-destructive instinct. Beads of tigercream struck the nearby webbing and shimmered in the bioluminescent glow which enveloped Silent's whole world. This final humiliation for the tiger only served to re-heat Silent's own loins as the inevitability of his fate bore down on him. As he watched the previously formidable tiger die--unaware that the tiger had planned such a fate for the alien only hours before--Silent realized that he would share the male's fate! Panic wrestled with submission and his muscles rippled as they fought against the immovable webbing which trapped his nubile body.

The spider scuttled away at last, vanishing into the shadows with only the whisper of its feet on the threading to mark its passing. The tiger was dead, his eyes still open and his gaze still on Silent, but there was no recognition nor acknowledgement in them. A shadow of his former glory, the tiger had been reduced to another morbid trophy amidst a field of captured prey, many of whom had gone before the feline and all of whom would join him eventually. Silent shuddered, and silence reigned; only the occasional sob or plea from one of those still alive in the spider's larder pierced the night air.

Dawn came in its own time, and Silent watched as more furs were fed on. Each youthful body was left a husk by the time the spider who had taken it was finished. A bat with outstretched wings bucked helplessly as he screamed out his last, feeling his balls tighten before his final orgasm sent him blissfully into death. A fox had his balls suckled by the spider who had chosen him, the adorably rounded sacs becoming the point of contact between predator and prey when the creature decided it was time to feed.

The hours ticked by. When would it be his turn? The waiting was worse than the fate which awaited him at this point, and when he felt the probing tips of a spider's leg against his side the alien was almost relieved. The tentative touch of those monstrous legs was reminiscent of the gentle caress of a lover. They explored his bare chest, dragging across his ribs and curling against his throat. Every touch was calm and calculated; the spider had no fear of its prey, and the fear welling up in Silent's heart was of even less concern than any threat the Vanguard may pose. Heart racing, the alien's head turned down towards the spider who had chosen him. Nearby another boy let out a shriek as he was devoured from the inside out, and Silent promised himself that he wouldn't scream like these Earthers did; he was a Vanguard, proud of his position as a scout, and ready to accept the fate that awaited many in his role.

The spider's calm approach belied a patience that Silent could not share. When the creature finally slid onto his chest, the sight of its burgeoning abdomen filled his eyes. Was anyone watching him now? Were they witnessing his turn as food for the spiders, and feeling the same conflict of emotions he had? Already a scream bubbled in his throat, but he swallowed it and girded his jaw against any further escape attempts.

A soft pinch against his lower belly warned the alien that his time had come. His whole body tensed against the sensation, and his hips jerked forward involuntarily against the primal invasion of such a tender area. The feeling which followed was nothing like the warmth the poison had caused the day before, this bite brought with it a distinct chill. Like a gnawing hunger, it enveloped his gut as the spider began to feast on his defenseless insides. The sensation was not entirely unpleasant at first, but its constancy soon began to grate on Silent's nerves. Each passing second brought with it a greater desire to scream as the cold continued to spread. It touched the base of his spine and the alien's hips bucked upwards once more.

Unknown to Silent, his cock had re-emerged from him. Sliding from the safety of its hole inches from the spider's face, it danced and bobbed in the warming air with no regard for its owners imminent death. Though the alien had no balls to speak of, if he had, they'd have likely tightened up against him as that encroaching chill ran down his thighs. Unknown to him--his body largely hidden by the deformed abdomen of the spider--his gut and legs were beginning to waste away; only the chill told him anything was happening at all. Tongue running over his own lips, the alien writhed helplessly, as if the simple movements were an attempt to distract himself from the reality of his situation. Shoulders straining against the webbing which held them down, Silent-Hunter let out a single bleat before slamming his jaws shut and nearly severing his tongue by doing so.

The air around his body grew colder, as though the frosty bite of the spider had begun to infect it as well. The sensation was more a result of blood draining from him, his cheeks fading to a dusty grey as his vision swam before him. _I'm dying!_he thought, the revelation not some new realization, but more a grudging acceptance of it, as though he had to say it to himself for it to be true. Black eyes rolling around in their sockets, the Vanguard fought to keep them open.

Unlike several of the other meals, Silent was not afforded the luxury of a final orgasm. The spider's decision to feed from his belly put his virile prick directly in the line of fire, and as the chill ran through it he was spared the sight of it withering and retreating back into its hole like some scared gopher; it had been drained in a way it had never meant to be drained, and now lay as dead as the alien would be shortly. His tongue flopped from his snout stupidly as his jaws lost their strength and failed at keeping it contained. His neck sore, it too began to sag as the muscle-tone melted away into a doughy mess of flesh and bone.

His heart skipped several beats, and the air in Silent's lungs seemed to stagnate as he found he couldn't expel it. Only after several shuddery seconds did it finally slip from his open mouth, though attempts to draw in more became just as difficult. His body was little more than a husk as the spider continued to drink him dry. Belly caved in, and ribs easily visible beneath his grey skin, the upside down alien's head fell back, swinging gently like a balloon tethered to a taut string.

"Grrrrk...." the sound was the last the Vanguard made; he died shortly after.

The spider almost danced as it scurried off of its spent meal. The Vanguard was little more than a skeleton with skin, his eyes sunken in his skull and half-lidded by the now listless grey skin which had earlier seemed so full of life. The cries of those still living still echoed in the dim morning air, and the soft struggle of preyfurs as spiders selected them for breakfast still broke the stillness of the dew-dappled webbing; the alien's death had meant little in the events of the day, and they would mean even less in the days to come. The spiders would feed, the boys would die to fulfill this need, and those who had already been devoured would rot away into bags of bones suspended in the webbing.

The game would continue without them.