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Their lips met, their bodies tangled, their legs tied. With a sigh, the hands went over the right breast to cup it, to squeeze it, to give it a firm hold as milk dribbled from it. Again, the wide tongue pushed deeper, and so did the full raging mast, its flared end pushing deeper within that plump ass.

Their moans joined in the tent, as that sphincter was spread to its limit, then the other, and another; all the while, the throbbing length pressed against the prostate and massaged it. Slowly, lovingly, with such a care more muffled moans came out and… A few droplets.

A clicking tongue followed.

“Your hole is divine, you know that?" said the Primitive, looking like an Earth's Zebra, his long muzzle split into a smile before he returned to kiss. But not that mouth, no, that neck, and to nibble it while that cock pushed deeper.

“And so… Is your cock," groaned Kilowog back, his gruff face bearing such a pleased smile as his Partner's slow movements were reaching far inside.

He had already ejaculated twice, to the point his churning testicles were starting to hurt and sting once more. But there was a pleasure in being embraced by Kruch, the one Sebaran who picked him ever since their Shaman had him… Approved.

Their bodies entangled, with Kilowog as the smaller spoon, Kruch's torso pressed against Kilowog's back while those hands forcefully pulled on those soft handles until that cock was deeply hilted within. Until that throb and heartbeat were deeply entrenched within Kilowog, who had no options but to enjoy it. As much as the kisses, the hands toying and pulling on his recently acquired piercing, golden but looking like more Corps ring.

He sighed.

“Is there a problem? By that time, you would have been screaming for me to ruin your cunt," asked the Sebaran, his clicking voice merging with the translated one. While the clicking was loud and brutal, the given voice was soft-spoken and almost suave right by Kilowog's tiny ears. “Is this the other wife?"

“Arkillo. That's his name," growled Kilowog, trying to articulate as his lover picked up a faster pace. That rod was still going in and out, but not too much. It was not the pace that would make him break and heave. But it was enough to please him, and milking all the fluids from his prostate… An ordnance from the Shaman to keep him so, he remembered.

“Sorry, I am forgetful," said Krush, though he was not. He was attentive and mindful, but not with names. “Should I ask her to be removed? I can ask the Shaman."

“It's not that."

No, it wasn't that. It was a strange situation as Kilowog grumbled but held onto his lover's hand so he could squeeze his breasts, massage them, and force out the milk that started to accumulate in them. He held on, not to moan… But his mind went on Arkillo.

It had been a trick of his to get Arkillo down and captured, plus… Had it been fair to drag him here?

“Let's worry later," said Krush, raising his hand from Kilowog's plump tits to get to his chin, to cup that face and wide maw, then guide it to face him… For a kiss. One where Krush's tongue overpowered and invaded everything, smearing saliva that erased Kilowog's doubts and worries again. Bliss.

There was bliss as that cock pushed deep within his hole, stretching the rim thin as it would gape and sting all day. Still, there was the pleasure as the Sebaran started to buck. A whole different pleasure, different than any orgasm Kilowog had felt, any ejaculation he had done. This time, it was intimate and… pleasing.

It was a union, a presence pressing inside as well as rumbling behind. It was those arms, wrapped and going over him. It was those fingers, dancing and pinching.

He melted under Krush's touch, taken and abused by what he had assumed to be a brute before. But no, he was a gentle and passionate lover.

Steadily, the hips moved at a faster rate, and the lips parted, leaving Kilowog swallowing the few remaining beads of saliva as Krush pulled back.

“On your belly," he said, not as an order but closer to a request… A question.

To which Kilowog answered by going on his belly despite the weight he had, despite the pressure from the foals and the cum deep inside him, despite his sensitive breasts. He laid down and felt his Equine lover leaning over him, his arms by either side while his flared tip was at the entrance.

“Going in," clicked Krush…

And he went in.

With one movement, his cock plunged deep within Kilowog, stealing a gasp from him. Then more as the Sebaran took him by lowering his powerful hips, working with that core to hit Kilowog's depths. And then, when he was fully inside, his testicles resting against the thighs, groin meeting cheeks, he pulled. Then dropped.

It felt good, intensively good for the two… For the one taken, whose toes curled and feet lifted, whose mouth contorted into a confused grin. And for the one taking, whose cock was encircled and swiftly gripped by the rim.

The tent was filled with the sounds of the clapped cheeks, of the meeting thighs, of the powerful thrusts stealing neighs from the Sebaran above. His cock throbbed with life and energy, dripping with more cum that would pour deep within Kilowog's ass, adding to the molasses that had given him such a big bump.

And it was good, so good to feel all those fluids churning inside him, to have his prostate battered until only watery precum dribbled from it. It was perfect for his aching nuts, even better to have his rim stretched so wide he could still feel that cock inserted within even hours later.

Kilowog's expression melted, his smile grew wider, his tongue even slipped out as the clapping sound went faster and faster. It was impressive, it was loud, it was the pace Krush used as he was reaching his peak. His hips punched deeper, moved with a remarkable staccato as Kilowog's plump cheeks turned red from the abuse.

Yet, none were giving in and asking for a break. Not as Krush was so close to cumming… Not as Kilowog was in bliss, satisfied by the presence above him…. By feeling that sweat drip over his back in an enticing way.

But as with everything, it had to pass.

The movement picked up again, but for a few seconds before Krush dropped. Before their bodies entirely united. At that moment, Kilowog felt his lover's weight press onto his body, squeezing and crushing it. But all the same, he felt that cock nudge his previously-unreached depths… And… They came.

With nothing and with an avalanche. Again, nothing but watery precum dripped from Kilowog's cock despite his churning and painful nuts, his scrotum so tight. In comparison, the Sebaran unleashed a tidal wave of cum inside him. A cum so pure, so hot, so raw, it etched and traced the path it took inside Kilowog as it filled him, stuffed him, inflated him further. The Green Lantern's eyes rolled while the pleasure took him. He did not resist when Krush reached for his jaw. Nor when the male forced his head to twist and endure the invading tongue for another kiss.

It was good for the Bolovaxian. Good.

But as everything, it had to stop.

“I have to go," explained Krush as he slowly pulled back from his posture, untangling legs and bodies. That fat equine cock pulled away, tugging on Kilowog's clenching rim so much it threatened to drag it outside in a prolapse. But did not. And Kilowog sighed, the pressure relaxed inside him only then to wince. To wince when the air rushed inside his asshole, dripping with precum and so gaped it was easy to fist him. Walking would be a pain.

“Hrmph… Don't let me hold you back," moaned Kilowog as he watched the Sebaran blow him as kiss and then slip outside through the tent flap.

Kilowog shook his head, amused, only to hear a ruffle outside and Krush's face appeared through the entrance, the flap lifted.

“Do not forget. Rash and Eshur will be there for you, tonight."

“I got it, go on. I'll get my ass prepared," answered Kilowog with a gruff voice as he closed his eyes.

The flap dropped and the hooves stomped away, disappearing in the distance, leaving only the sound of the nearby fire resonating in Kilowog's tent. He sighed, warmed and yet too sore to move. It was always so with Krush, especially since Kilowog had started to gain weight from the pregnancy.

The Sebaran was a gentle lover, mostly, but his fucking always left Kilowog to pick up the pieces in sores. Though he was growing accustomed to it… Mostly.

With a growl, Kilowog started to move. His sprawled arms extended, then he brought them closer. He pushed on the rug and ground below. He lifted his torso with his core and grumbled from the pain in his back. Yet, he pushed and finally lifted one knee to stand up. Wobbly, unsteady… But he was able to stand up, piece by piece before he turned to the flap he passed through, halfway bending.

Outside, it was the same cavern.

Newcomers, newly-minted wives, were kept here until their first pregnancy and foals. Then, they were to move outside to the village above. Krush and the Shaman once explained he could not leave that place until he was fully prepared.

At first, he had been fighting it and tried to escape. They brought him here and patched him, but he had thought it was no excuse for them to treat him like a prisoner. He had bargained, explained he had worlds to save, and a duty to honor. They gave him no heed. Up until he got his ring back, he thought he could wait out and endure whatever they had planned.

But as he looked down, watching his belly, he knew there was his ring there. It worked, it was active, but it could no longer produce any construct. It was a glorified trinket, though useful as it still translated the Sebarans' speech, which was unique in the galaxy and beyond.

“Kilowog? Do you know where is Krush?" asked one of the males, sitting by one of the tents and resting. Only widowed and young males were living in the cavern, waiting for their wives to arrive. Somehow, more always came, they said.

“He went on a hunt," answered Kilowog, watching the naked stud giving him a grin and spreading his legs wider.

“So, you would-"

“No," answered Kilowog, shaking his head and continuing further. He was… he would remain with Krush. It was he who brought Kilowog here and patched him; it was through loyalty he would stay with him.

As he strutted onward, feeling the glance of males onto his ruined asshole that made his legs slightly wobble, the Green Lantern finally got outside the main cavern and walked towards the Purifying Lake. It was the only place he could take a bath and with his skin covered with milk and reeking of cum, he needed one.

As he entered the massive cavern with the lake inside, he watched the tent near it; where the Shaman hid. This time, he was not there to inspect Kilowog, not that he needed it. Or maybe was he gone? Nonetheless, Kilowog continued, feeling the soft ground under his feet as he approached the banks and stopped.

There was someone in the water.

Not a Sebaran.

The Sebarans never used that lake for cleaning, explaining it was solely to be used by wives. And since no one else had joined them… It was Arkillo.

“You can come. I won't bite," surly said the Vornian as he turned to Kilowog. The Reptilian-looking Yellow Lantern was right. He would not bite, especially with those teeth removed. It had been a measure the Sebarans took by themselves, and it was a mutilation Kilowog could not abide by.

But he approached the lake, feeling its fresh water welcome him as he stepped inside. Compared to his first days, when green seemed to bleed from him when he entered the surface, the liquid was crystal clear. Likewise to Arkillo, who was… Different. His pectorals were heavier, his belly less firm. It was the beginning.

“What? I have something on my face?" snarled Arkillo, though he, indeed, had something on his face: a cum stain. One Kilowog pointed by pointing his own nose.

“Left cheek, dimwit."

Arkillo looked down, and sure as soon as he saw it, the Reptilian-looking alien tried to wipe it out while Kilowog moved closer and cupped the water to splash his face with.

“You have changed your mind about killing me and the Green Lantern?" asked Kilowog, watching the placid demeanor Arkillo displayed. Demure even as he passed a hand over his scales. For a moment, the Yellow Lantern said nothing but then nodded, begrudgingly.

“It's not like I can do anything with those primitives. A kiss, and they make me tame," he growled.

That was true. Sebarans could appease someone's mind with a kiss and their fluids. Their scents also had an effect, strong enough for Kilowog's ring to translate it as a psychoactive substance. But beyond that? There was also the fact they could rig the rings. They even knew where Kilowog would be; it was all… Strange.

“I know," answered Kilowog, feeling suddenly uneasy. He had not sent the signal to attract Arkillo, but he was there when Arkillo arrived. He had been a bait and willingly so. It's not like Krush gave him the choice; it was that or betraying the Sebarans' plea.

“It's not something you, Green Lanterns, should be against? Taking someone's will? What they're doing to us is evil."

Evil. Kilowog was not certain, but it was close. Still, he went and lowered his posterior, starting to shake it a bit as he was halfway submerged. And then, with a growl, he began to pull on his cheeks, prying them open to have water rush between them.

“Look at you. Weak. Broken. You are a bitch to them, Green Lantern," continued Arkillo, his tongue flicking the air.

“You are no different," replied Kilowog as he felt the cold liquid against his abused rim. “The way I see it, you are a primitive-fucker, too. I heard you beg in your tent, and more. You got your ring back? Why don't you use it to flee?"

Arkillo did not answer in words. But his silence told Kilowog everything. He had his ring back, but he was, too, impotent. There was no way the rings could be of use. Then… There was the other issue.

With a sigh, Kilowog stood up and got closer to the Yello Corps, his enemy.

In reaction, Arkillo already took a step back and raised an arm, clenching his fist to throw a punch at Kilowog.

But the Green Lantern did not care when the weak punch hit him, barely grazing his jaw, while his fingers reached between Arkillo's legs, right onto his testicles.

They were heavy, churning with life, hot… Too hot for any cold or hot-blooded species. With the orbs in his palms, Kilowog could feel any change, any… Shaking within. And clear as a day, he felt it though Arkillo remained still, his fist still pressed against the Green Lantern's face while he was getting fondled and examined.

“You want another smack on your head? Get your hands off!" shouted the Yellow Lantern, dealing another punch. But he was weak. Before, Kilowog would have to put his jaw back. But it barely scratched his leathery skin and… It showed what was happening to Arkillo.

“I'm trying to help you, dimwit," growled the Bolovaxian, rolling the orbs. He sensed the slight movement within them, as if something was crawling within. Whatever was inside, it rolled. The fondling had shaken the creature enough to have it delve further until Kilowog could no longer feel it.

“Help me? Feels like you're missing your time with the primitives!" hissed Arkillo as he stepped back, taking his groin away from Kilowog's grip. However, his half-hard cock was visible and indicating he had been enjoying it. That, and it was not [I]too[/I] late for him.

For all accounts, that Vornian was a tough cunt through and through. He had lasted twice as long as Kilowog before reaching that state, and… Well, his yellow ring had only been given back recently, it seemed.

“I'm not. Your ring still works but cannot create constructs," started Kilowog, crossing his arms. “Do a health check and share it."

“Why should I take orders from a Green Lantern like you?"

“Because I'm trying to help you, and it would not hurt to do a scan! Do it!" shouted Kilowog, his eyes narrowing on Arkillo, who glanced back… But then mumbled.

“What?" continued the Green Lantern, tilting his head closer.

“I am doing your damned scan! You and those damned primitives!" roared Arkillo back before he seemingly grabbed something out of thin air… And a yellow panel appeared. Not an exact construction, more like a projection from his ring… On his junk.

The situation was bad enough that Kilowog had to think about such details, so he shook his head as he glimpsed at the details.

“Good enough for you? Or should I bow, too?" growled Arkillo, though his face was slightly contracted by fear and frustration as he looked down at his arms.

On the screen, all the vitals from Arkillo were displayed. Heartbeat, blood samples, antibodies count, even the bacteria count. It was some thorough results, though not enough. Kilowog had no knowledge of Vornian biology.

“Do you have older scans?" he asked, glancing at the Reptilian-Alien who snarled.

“What's this? And why don't I have your scans, then? Why's that so important? You were fine leaving me alone with those beasts. But now you want to be buddy-buddy and share scans?"

Kilowog facepalmed, or at least brought a hand to his face, but groaned.

“Fine. Here are my scans," he started as he willed the orders and made a screen appear, green compared to the yellow one Arkillo had produced. Moreover, he had thorough data. He took it every week except for the period he had lost access to his ring.

Data Arkillo saw but did not interact with.

“So… You got what you want? Will you grant me the access?"

Arkillo again snarled, but through Kilowog's insistence, he finally relented. A little ping indicated the Yellow Lantern had provided more data.

“What's in it for you?"

“I want to help. I was a geneticist before being a Green Lantern. I could… Your last scan was two years ago? Don't you care about your health?"

Arkillo merely shrugged, eliciting more eye-rolling from Kilowog as he compared the results. His hands danced on the screen while he went over the information. Drop in many hormones, DNA alteration, and organ degradation if not alteration. The Vornian was still resisting, but not for long.

“Can I leave? Otherwise, my Minder will come back?"

“Your Minder? Your husband?"

“Pfh? Husband? He's only around to drag me around and nothing more."

“I can smell your cum breath," replied Kilowog, ignoring the Vornian clenching his fist as he continued to scour through the data. “He is probably hunting. They are all at this hour. Except for the Shaman and the Guards. If I were you, I'd be more concerned about my testicles."

No answer, but a cocked eyebrow from the Yellow Lantern and the crossed arms was enough for Kilowog to pick up. He pushed the screens aside, getting closer to whom he had been fighting only a few weeks ago.

“You are infested, like me. My looks? You'll be no different in a few weeks."

“Pfh," mocked Arkillo, looking away.

“Yes? Are you certain?" pointed Kilowog, poking at the Vornian's chest. His pectorals were getting heavier and more plump, evidently gaining weight. “It's only the beginning."

“Fine! If I'm infested like you, what can I do? It's not me the geneticist, or… if I remember, you were the one baiting me here-"

“I did no-"

Clicking sounds.

“Stop fighting! And come here. Your inspection is overdue!"

The Shaman's voice cut through their discussion, as Arkillo and Kilowog turned to the old-looking Sebaran, as naked as usual. Everyone else referred to him inside the cavern, though he was not their Chief. That one was supposed to live outside.

Kilowog glanced at his former enemy, then with a movement, he erased his screen and marched on, approaching the banks. Arkillo followed, closing the screens and marching; and within a minute, they were in arms' reach of the Shaman, who beckoned them.

“Inside. I must show you something."

Never before had Kilowog entered the Shaman's tent or approached it. To be beckoned inside was enough to postpone what he had discussed with Arkillo. The Yellow Lantern, too, seemed curious but frustrated. And as they passed past the flap, they were instantly hit by a waft of hot air mixed with musk. Strong, pungent, potent Sebaran musk that drilled inside Kilowog's nose as he took a breath and another. He already felt his emotions soothed by the musk, but he still focused on the tent, which was… Odd.

There were skulls, and trinkets everywhere on the furniture and the wood board the Shaman used as workbench. But there were tools, modern enough. Frequency analyzer, micro-computers, sensors hidden here and there. The more Kilowog looked, the more it was clear those trinkets and that tribal aspect was there to hide the Shaman's technology, as he turned and clicked his tongue.

“Come on, come closer. Let's talk. You were fighting about something, right?"

With one hand, he invited the two to sit before him as he set his “workbench" aside and offered a smile. A strange smile that made Kilowog cautious as he sat, crossing his legs while Arkillo remained up.

“Nothing. We hate each others and we wants my data," grunted the Yellow Lantern, defiant.

“Sit," ordered the Shaman. And somehow, Kilowog saw the Vornian's defiant display crumble. Even his face was softer for a moment before he sat, shaking his head.

“Good. Let's talk about that… data. Will you show me?"

It was Kilowog's turn to be defiant. The Shaman was smarter than what Kilowog thought, and… Well, one intrusive thought came: it would not hurt to be honest with him, right?

A thought that pushed Kilowog to make a sign and push the appearing screen toward the Shaman, who looked at it, not in awe but in curiosity. The kind of expression Kilowog had already seen on scientists' faces.

“Come closer," clicked the Shaman, inviting them to approach as he reached for them with his arms up… And for a moment, Kilowog thought he should not move. However, Arkillo did.

With his nostrils and pupils dilated, Arkillo approached, and without any resistance, he allowed the Shaman to pull his head closer until he was forced to lay down and have his muzzle right by the Sebaran's nuts. Nuts, he started to huff audibly, his cock hardening and dripping on the rug.

Kilowog watched the docile Yellow Lantern act no different than a pet. Then, the Shaman beckoned him.

“You want it, too. Won't you? I will tell you everything that is happening while you're at it. Every secret I have, doesn't it sound interesting?"

Kilowog grunted, closed his eyes. Even if he refused, what would it change? He was curious, clearly missing on that potent musk… And the Shaman already knew about his checkup. So he leaned onward, feeling the calloused hand reach for his nape and guide him to lay down, to have his head resting on the Shaman's thigh. His face and nose were only a few centimeters away from that groin, from that sheathed cock, those humongous black balls. And he breathed, breathed that smell that eased his thoughts as he watched the Shaman slide the screen lower and click his tongue.

Somehow, their rings reacted to that order, even though Kilowog's ring could translate it… And another screen appeared. But not the scans. No, it was a different type, showing their genitals in plain sight.

It showed Arkillo's parts from the side with his half-erect cock, pulsating with blood and life with each breath he took. His dick was indeed long and thick, filled with blood. His prostate down inside was not oversized. It was probably healthy, the same as his bladder. However, it was when descending the Vas Deferens that the vision changed. There was something inside, like… A wriggling insect.

As for Kilowog, he already knew. But his cock was shrunken, soft, with barely any blood rushing inside despite the excitation of being high on Sebaran musk. His prostate had swollen from the abuse, almost twice its previous size, while his bladder was crushed and smaller from the pressure. However, when glancing down… he saw it. Whereas there would be the rotund and perfectly healthy testicles with the vesicles inside, ready to produce semen, there was… An insect. A form curled up in the middle and took most of the place. His eyes widened, but as he took a whiff of the Shaman's musk, his mind rested.

“You already know what's happening to you. But Arkillo, don't you want to see?" smirked the Shaman, catching the Yellow Lantern's face to force him to look at the screen.

“What? What is this?" Arkillo slurred back.

“The infestation," butted in Kilowog, taking another whiff.

“Yes. An infestation. A species of parasite that lives inside that lake," smiled the Shaman, stroking the two Lanterns' heads while egging them on to take more of his musk, to breathe in that pungent and mind-soothing perfume that made them drool and… Drip from between their legs. Whether it was a musky precum from Arkillo's erect cock or a watery one from Kilowog's soft cock.

“A parasite?"

“It is feeding on your semen to grow, at first. But then… When it is big enough, it takes what's most precious to males," chuckled the Shaman, darkly.

“But… Why?" asked Kilowog. His mind was slipping.

“As a revenge. But isn't it good they're eating your precious testes? Don't you think? You're happy as good sterile sluts for my sons, are you?"

Kilowog felt a yes narrowly slip his answer. Somehow, despite a part of him in horror, he wanted to say yes. To approve. So, he nodded. Whereas Arkillo slurred a “yes".

“Good. You know what's best for you. But you must not tell what you saw. You don't want to disappoint your husbands. Imagine how sad they would be," chuckled the Shaman, again guiding their reactions.

This time, Kilowog grunted and managed to close his eyes for a moment before he sighed. Arkillo had already said no, but… he had a question.

“Who… Are you?"

An answer met with a firm hand on his nape, a hand so strong it could break his neck and kill him. However, that grip relaxed and turned into strokes in the back of Kilowog's head.

“Hmmm… I was someone like you, Kilowog. The last of my kind after the Green Lantern nearly slaughtered us all. They thought we were too brutal and cruel for dominating a whole system. I survived and hid here."

“Why… Here?" continued Kilowog, hearing the wheezing from Arkillo, taking in more of that musk and almost cumming while he masturbated loudly.

“It's far from your sectors, and it has an influence that cancels your rings. It is just I use your kind to reproduce and have more sons before we resume our paths to the stars."

For a moment, there was nothing more to say. But Kilowog opened his eyes on his enemy openly licking those black sweaty nuts. He licked them, covered them with saliva, as that sheath started to stretch, and for the mast, black as ebony, to slowly stand from the folds, its flared tip pointing up.

“All Lanterns will become… Ours. Our wives, a part of a great family. Even you two. Be happy, Lanterns… You will get a future, but it won't involve your pitiful genes," chuckled the Sebaran before he clicked his tongue.

Something in the rings activated, something strange… Before Kilowog felt something hot and warm pressed against his ass. And by Arkillo's shaking hips, it seemed he felt the same thing. It was thick, wide, and… dripping.

“Only I can activate your rings' construction now. I fixed them… And if you want that big cock inside you," said the Shaman with a grin, gripping his dick to shake it. “You will worship me."

As he said that, Kilowog also felt that fat rod slap against his cheeks, smacking them red and raw until they burned. And he gasped, feeling the pleasure and excitation… As well as that cock's presence when his mouth approached it, narrowly licking it.

“Yes. Good sluts. Be happy… You know what's best for you."

The Shaman's words were cruel, but somehow, they were… Expected. No, even Arkillo did not fight those as he extended his tongue to give that cock a thorough lick from the median ring, pushing through the sheath, to the top. There… It felt so good for Kilowog as he sensed the cocktip press against his gaped asshole and passed through without hurting. His hole was relaxed, too relaxed to fight it. And feeling that thick flared dick push within was a delight… And peculiar as he saw the cockhead inside him, moving through the scan.

“I will milk you… And ensure your worms get a good meal, Lanterns," spat the Sebaran before he laughed with his clicking tongue.

He laughed cruelly, but no one, not even Kilowog, dared to fight against him. They remained close to his groin, taking in that brutal and masculine smell, tasting and sampling that salty precum and sweat all over the skin.

Their tongues kept working and licking, enticed by that flavor they had grown accustomed to and yet loved. And as that scrotum was left shining and glistening, devoid of any sweat or precum, the Lanterns' tongues moved up. Upward, following the erection that stood upright and defiant, the skin outstretched by the bulging veins below and the median ring. Yet, Arkillo and Kilowog went at it. Their lips moved up and down… And there, the Shaman sighed.

“It's time for your reward," he chuckled before clicking his tongue. Again, the rings did not pick it up. But the orders came through nonetheless, and Kilowog felt that flared tip push… Push. And invade his hole, giving his prostate a loving touch. It squeezed it, deformed the poor organ that had to push outward. All the inner tubes were contracted, and, in a different fashion, he saw what his precum dripping provoked. Without any hint of pain, he saw the parasite inside uncurl and move. Its tiny beak moved, and without fail, it started to forage inside the remaining parts while Kilowog experienced nothing but pleasure. And heat.

“You can't feel it, don't you?" asked the Shaman.

“No," answered Kilowog, almost despondent when comparing the pleasure he felt from worshiping the Sebaran's cock, going all over that big black cock. And then, the lack of pain. He was… Castrated thoroughly but felt nothing of it. He should be ashamed, as he was the last of his kind. But there was something hot and bothering him… no, exciting him.

“It injects an anesthetic continuously. You cannot even feel it, even when it starts. I know what happened to your species, Bolovaxian. But it is justice and fairness if you are too weak to survive," said the Shaman with a spurning voice. He was distant, cold, but Kilowog had no answer to give. Not in his drugged state when everything he wanted was to say yes, to confirm, to stroke the man's ego. And he nodded, feeling the hands caresing his nape.

“That's right. You deserved it, every second of it. Now… Work on my cock while I squeeze every ounce out of your pathetic cocks."

That time, the Shaman clicked his tongue, and Kilowog grunted. Yet, he extended his neck and throat to give that cockhead a kiss, straining his back and muscles as he tried to get a taste of that precum, of that semen starting to taint the fluid. Between his cheeks, the construction was picking up its pace. And so it did on the screen, showing that ramming fuckpole going in and out so fast it was closer to Kilowog's heartbeat in pace. It hit, and hit, and hit. Without a break, without a stop. And his poor prostate tried to contract, to eject whatever fluids it still had inside. Even then, it was not enough… For the ring creating the construct, neither the Shaman, who continued to laugh at the Lanterns' expends.

Arkillo was not faring better, his face contorted in an expression of pleasure with his eyes half-closed and rolling, the saliva dripping from his toothless mouth. He, too, was a mess. With the violent shakings taking him, the moans, and more, it seemed he was cumming his brain out. Fluids poured from his erect cock on the ground while Kilowog saw the movements and shaking going from below the scrotum. It was… Obvious, the parasite was feasting; yet, there was no pain for the Yellow Lantern. No, nothing like that.

Kilowog knew the same was applying to him. Yet, as he continued to work and be worked up by the fake cock, he extended his tongue to reach for the Shaman's cocktip. He ignored the rumble in his stomach, battered and yet empty, and so he did for the shaking going through his bladder. He went for the cocktip, going as far as to use his arms and hands as support. And without a second thought, he began to lap the cum pouring from the Shaman's urethra.

He licked and drank, taking gulps after gulps only to have his tongue competing with Arkillo, who, too, had managed to sit on his side despite the construction so he could drink.

Drink that fluid that was reeking, but creamy, tasteful, pungent, puissant. They gulped it, feeling their hunger satisfied by the mere drops and more. Of that semen that affected them and made them yearn for more. Even as they were cumming their futures out.

“The lanterns… Condemned us because we used our semen and our superiority to crush other civilizations. But we knew better than to break the inferior species… We fed those poor bastards, like we do to you. Isn't it the best meal you've had?"

Kilowog grumbled, but… Yes. It was the best meal he had eaten, somehow. It was filling yet not excessively fat. Even after weeks of drinking it, he was… Happy to get more. To get used more, to get stuffed more.

And as he extended his tongue, almost swatting Arkillo's away, he nodded and squirmed. The construction inside him was going crazy, vibrating, rolling, hitting his walls. He saw how little fluids were coming out of his cock despite the constant tremors and shaking that left him panting. He was cumming dry, so dry it was starting to hurt his dick. But it was good enough for him as he licked, fed by one criminal. He filled his stomach with that pervert's fluids and his sons', eagerly enjoying as he knew the parasites were taking a bite of his parts and Arkillo's. As he saw what remained of his Bolovaxian genes being taken away… Yet… he was as excited as he could ever be, biting his lips as he felt the hands stroking his neck and encouraging him to take more… And give in.

-

One mouth nibbling at his nipples, he was in bliss. For the last few days, milk had been backing up inside so much that those breasts were heavy, swollen, and weighed on his back. Such a soft tongue, warm and eager, was a delightful caress that allowed the sickly sweet liquid to spray out, beyond the ring, and right into that hungry mouth.

He sighed, feeling the decrease in pressure. His scales were no longer taut; even the tension at his nipples turned bearable despite the flow spewing out. And he stroked that man's head, welcoming him and egging him to take more.

“Go on. Take your fill," said Arkillo with a deep growl, uncaring if his Minder and Husband, Raskur, was getting a bit brutal with the bites. His body could endure such abuse. He had taken worse… And few things were as pleasing as feeling those lips tightly sucking his nipples, those calloused hands going over those swollen and buxom breasts, that outstretched belly, or his generous thighs.

He welcomed the touch, welcomed the ensuing warmth as he was getting playfully teased and pleased by the male whose big black cock was happily delving into his asshole and stretching it wide. His guts were so full of cum, and yet, with that fat rod, his belly was outstretched some more and even partially imprinted the form of Raskur's magnificent cock. It should have been painful, especially with the eggs pushing, rolling, hitting one another successively.

Yet, it was a pleasure to feel the movement deep inside as well as the slight nudge on his prostate.

In the back of his mind, he heard the echoes from his yellow ring alerts about some potential organ damage, some psychoactive substances, or anything it had been blabbering about. So much details, so much alert, so much… Fear. A fear the ring had been instilling in him about his situation until he went to the Shaman in secret to get that changed. No more AI, no more alerts, nothing but the translation, the constructs… And yes, sometimes the scan, to get Kilowog off his back.

A Kilowog who was lucky and somewhat stupid.

Despite being obviously pregnant and having already given birth to a Sebaran child, he remained around Arkillo, saying he was doing it to help him. Somehow, the former Yellow Lantern doubted it. They bickered, often… But it was nice to have someone to fight against, to discuss, and even go into a fistfight… Even if their bodies were… Weak.

“Is something on your mind, Slut?" asked Raskur, his voice mocking as much as his clicking tongue. Arkillo was even starting to pick up the Sebarans' language, but the Ring offered him the translation. Learning their language had not been one of his objectives in life… Objectives that were mostly gone and away.

“Nothing. It doesn't involve you at all. Go back to the milk", Arkillo growled back, going to stroke the Sebaran's neck to slowly invite him to give his other nipple a lick. Raskur huffed, but they had a sort of… Arrangement.

“A female should speak better to her male," gruffly said Raskur, still licking and nibbling that nipple as more milk sprayed out. It was endless, especially with all the semen Arkillo was getting, from Raskur, the Shaman, and even other males who lived in the cave.

“A female should have the right to pick wh-… Hrmph!"

A kick. No, a contraction. Something hit Arkillo's groin and lower belly all the same, suddenly forcing him to relax his grip and bend forward. It was hard, painful, something he had not felt despite having that firm equine cock pushing within his depths. He grunted, feeling another contraction. In return, it seemed Raskur felt it as he growled, too, and closed his eyes.

“What-"

Before he could ask further, Arkillo was already pushing on his legs. Even weakened, he could lift himself and had his body lifted off Raskur's groin. His eyes were closed, his eyelids tightly maintained. Everything was starting to blind him as the pain flared through his abdomen and he dropped on his plump backside, the cushiony ass stopping more damage as he reclined and spread his legs.

He extended his hands back on the rug, using them as support as he reclined further and lifted his basin higher.

“Hhh… it's… It's happening," groaned Arkillo as, despite the pain, he remembered the moment. Unluckily, it had happened during the day for Kilowog. Arkillo had to help him reach the Shaman's tent. It had been an unlucky stroke for them both, but somehow… It helped the Yellow Lantern to be ready for what was to happen.

“The eggs, my sons?" asked Raskur, typical of him.

“No… Not them," growled Arkillo as another shot of pain hit his lower belly. With the pain came the lack of motor control, or sphincter control. The eggs were nestled too high above to roll down, but his bladder was rightfully crushed; it released its content… He had not drunk much and had already taken a leak before. But a few droplets dripped from Arkillo's cock as he sighed and threw his head back.

Inside his scrotum, his testicles were rolling and pushing. Beneath the scaly skin, there were movements as coiled muscles relaxed and were now pushing upward onto a path that had never been taken before. Even with the injected anesthetic, it hurt like hell for the Vornian, who had endured gun wounds, slash wounds, and more. Every time, he had been feeling the adrenaline of a fight, the bloodlust of a hunt. But he did not, at that moment; he could not feel the blood rush anymore as the constant treatment had… Killed that part of him.

“Hhh… They're… About to come out," he moaned in pain and cried as he sensed the inner tunnels inside his scrotum being stretched out thin.

Contrary to Kilowog, he did not have to see the result to happen. Or rather, he had already seen what was to happen when Kilowog birthed his parasites, too. So he knew what would happen as the passageways going up his scrotum would be stretched beyond common measure, leaving behind empty bags with a cavernous spot inside.

Already were his scaly scrotum deflating, going from the orange-sized orbs to flappy skin as the wiggling parasites continued their ascension upward, going up the scrotum until they were starting to slip inside his hips.

There, it was at that instant the pain and pleasure skyrocketed. Arkillo cried, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth as he looked at the tent above. He was… Cumming in a pain. Cumming so much, his naturally gaped sphincter suddenly clenched like a vice grip. So much that whatever precum his prostate had managed to produce was squeezed out and forced to dribble from his shriveled cock, only a tiny cockhead standing above his testicles.

Even then, even with that pressure released, it was not enough as the parasites kept digging up, and then outward. They pressed against the bladder further, giving Arkillo the need to piss even though he had already emptied it. And there were the shocks, regular whenever their tiny soft spikes were digging into his flesh to burrow further. It… hurt.

But so followed the intense pleasure, double even as the two creatures were progressing one after another. The second one wasn't as painful as intense since the walls had already been stretched and abused by the time it delved inside.

But its wiggling was just as perverse and delightful.

And mind-numbing as Arkillo started to hump the air. His cocklet burned like a cauterized wound. His urethra was coated with fluids, but it would not be enough… Yet, he felt the pressure nearing from inside, from below his cock, like an explosion about to happen.

And then… he saw it.

He saw his groin bulge right beneath his cock, pressing on the nub as it was forced to distend. It was… Agonizing. Terribly so. But again, Arkillo smiled stupidly from the orgasms his trained, abused, and drugged prostate produced.

Tears formed at the corner of his eyes while his smile grew wider. Raskur's voice was distant, even the one of Kilowog and the Shaman. Even then, he accepted the hand holding his and started to force on it as his cocklet finally gave in.

It was… Akin to an ejaculation, but slower. Slower than when he arrived in that hellish world, denser than any semen he had pumped into others. It was so slow that it was driving him crazy and made his legs tense up, as did his shoulders.

His cock was opening, the urethra was starting to stretch, and the soft spikes were digging inside the cavernous flesh, burrowing and burning. He cried, he screamed, his cocklet spread open, forced to do so more and more despite looking like a fucking barrel. And as the opening relinquished and the parasite's head pushed on… There was its beak.

The yellow beak that pushed through, followed by the blind white head with that soft, squishy flesh.

Someone might have tried to grab the parasite and pull it out because the Shaman was screaming above Arkillo's voice. Someone might have even got his hand swatted as the Vornian shouted and roared, his body taken and shaken by sick tremors.

The creature was wiggling inside his dick with the desire to get out, its elongated shape barely helping it as it pushed on and on, those tiny spines digging into the dick. It did hurt, yes. But what pleasure followed was strange, odd, perverse. Arkillo's eyes rolled as he felt another orgasm take him, sweep him.

He gargled, spat some more as his humping hips moved faster and higher. Another orgasm approached, and it was more potent. And yet, the worm, despite the precum dripping on either side, was still lodged inside.

“OUT!" cried Arkillo through his closed lips and spit. His eyes were half-closed, but he was fully there. Fully cognizant of the first worm not moving around while the second kept wiggling and butting its head against the second, sending shockwaves through his genitals, through his spine.

He gargled another noise, but just as suddenly as he pressed with his hips, the pressure… Lessened.

The pressure at his cocktip stopped, same as the pain, the presence, the constant poking.

The worm had dropped, and its body, squirmy, white, and formed of coiling flesh, moved around before the Shaman picked it up. Only remained the last one which, suddenly, didn't move as much. Even with Arkillo shaking his hips and trying to push it out, to send it out, it didn't budge.

“Take a long… breath," said Kilowog, his voice absurdly close to Arkillo's ears.

There was a quip, an insult, a degrading remark to be addressed to the Bolovaxian. How a cunt he was, how he got it easy, how he could be in his place. But it was stupid; Kilowog, too, had gone through it. His scrotum was as empty as his. With a gargle, Arkillo took a breath. Then another. He relaxed his rim, his body, his legs until his posterior dropped back on the rug.

And he hissed.

The worm was again moving, trudging further. Though the pain was mainly gone as the hole had been opened by the first, the second still took its sweet time to slide onward, to push past the urethra and… Drop. Drop on the ground, drop on a puddle of fluids as Arkillo took a long breath, his body taken by sick shivers. It was done, all done.

Before the Sebaran, he was lying naked, his groin covered with precum, piss, and whatever liquid those tiny parasites produced. Even milk as it had dribbled all over his chest and some on his legs.

“N-Not again," he grumbled, breathing slowly.

“We will make sure of that," confirmed the Shaman with a nod, his expression split into a perverted smile as he glanced at Arkillo, taking the worms into a jar he held… Yet, it was impossible not to notice his erection. That pervert had been getting a boner from watching Arkillo laying those parasites.

And now, those eyes were all over him, all over Kilowog.

All onto those Lanterns, among the firsts, to be fully broken. Broken body, broken mind, broken desires. They were no longer fighters. With their pregnant and curvaceous body, they looked like mothers at best.

And there would be more to join them… Every Lantern would become like them, ruined, and yet… Eager to become the Sebarans' properties.