FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Thick black clouds are obscuring the sun, the noxious smell of smoke and sulfur hangs in the air, and the buzzing and churning of a thousand machines rings in my ears as I step out of my shelter into the heart of my factory. A new day has begun on Nauvis, and hopefully not too many more will follow until my rocket is complete and I can finally escape the planet and its deadly insectoid inhabitants.

After a quick stretch, I activate my exoskeleton and haste through the whirring assemblers and the gurgling chemical plants to check if any part of the production has halted overnight. Fortunately, the machines are running as smoothly as the last couple of days, and the vast ocean of steam engines that breathe life into the smoke-shrouded factory huff with a steady, ceaseless rhythm. The heart of the factory is beating as fast and strong as ever, but arguably not fast enough.

Every day I wait for the construction of the rocket to finish, I have to dedicate more and more parts of my base to supplying my defenses with ammunition and repairs. Faced with the growing wrath of this world's buggy rulers, I've already built a several meters thick and tall concrete wall around my base, encasing its fragile insides like the shell of a turtle, and I've stacked the battlement with countless gun turrets, laser defensive systems, and flame throwers to ward off their endless attacks.

Even now, I hear the rattling, raspy cries from the legions of spindle-legged, facet-eyed creatures as they throw themselves against my fortifications in a frenzy, and the harrowing sounds only get louder as I approach the walls. Weakened by the thick, overbearing smoke of pollution and the acidic rains, they were no match for the hail of bullets, the flashing laser beams, and literal fire raining down on them, and yet, thanks to their sheer insurmountable numbers, a few always manage to make it to the walls.

In a moment of quiet between two assaults, I step onto the walls to inspect the damage the bugs have done this night. It is obnoxiously difficult to make out anything among their bubbling, corrosive spit, lifeless bodies, and rivers of purple blood, but upon closer inspection, I can make out dozens of cracks and scratches. It's not remotely enough to bring down the literal tons of concrete, and the countless repair robots zipping around my head are doing everything to mend and fix the nicks and notches, and yet, the persistence of the insects is beginning to worry me.

Their already intimidating numbers have skyrocketed ever since I entered the final phase of my conquest, the construction of the life-saving rocket, leaving my base and defenses less and less time to recover. In fact, while I'm still inspecting the outer walls, I already notice a wave of fresh biters approaching the site. Their faceted eyes and smooth chitin carapaces shimmer in the dusky light of the smoke-smothered sun and their innumerable legs click and scrape all over the beaten, ruined landscape.

A mad buzz ripples through their ranks as they spot me, the originator of their troubles, and they rush forward in an even greater hurry. It is high time for me to leave, and I hastily divert extra power to the legs of my exoskeleton. It takes the metallic frame a couple of seconds to boot up, long enough for the raving hordes to come into the range of the turrets. An electric zapping rings in my ears as blinding flashes of concentrated, coherent light whiz over my head, and not much later, the other turrets join in with earth-shattering machine gun fire and flying bursts of burning crude oil. The situation is literally heating up by the second, and I curse as I whack my legs, trying to accelerate my exoskeleton's charging process.

Finally, my power armor signals that the legs are powered up, and without wasting another moment, I run at the wall and jump, launching myself over the reinforced concrete and the firing turrets into the safety of my base. Not a moment too late, because as I land, I can hear the scratching of biter claws and mandibles on the outer walls, only for the noise to deteriorate into gurgles and death rattles once the targeting systems catch up. A chilling shiver runs down my spine as I realize that I just narrowly escaped my demise, and I vow to cease any further inspections while I head back to the shelter. After all, what good is the rocket when I'm not there to use it?

With my inspection complete, I return to my home at the core of the factory and step into the camera control room, only to be greeted by a nasty surprise. While I was busy checking the western wall, an even larger force of biters and spitters has arrived on the eastern side, and from a single glance at the grayscale CRT monitor, I can tell that they are attacking in a coordinated manner, a strategy I would've considered elegant if it weren't for the fact that I'm on the receiving end.

Fuck. Since when are those brainless bugs carrying out concerted attacks? What has given them this idea?

Fortunately, my excessive fortifications render their strategy useless, indiscriminately and ceaselessly mowing down whole swaths of the bugs. However, this changes dramatically when the machine gun fire suddenly stops. An ice-cold sweat runs down my neck. Why is the supply failing now of all times? Haven't I made sure to plaster the area with backup ammo boxes? As I look closer, I realize that while the turrets were distracted by the biters, a group of spitters has gathered in the shadow of the wall to hurl their acidic spit into my fortifications and disrupt the conveyor system faster than my bots can rebuild it.

As if this isn't bad enough, an alarm goes off behind my head announcing the complete loss of power in that section of the defenses.

So they've brought down the power lines as well?

Shit.

I jump up and rush into the bedroom to grab my gun, only to spend another minute searching for that darn thing. At least, past me had been kind enough to leave a few magazines of ammo lying around. I briefly wonder how reasonable a direct fight with the insects would be, but an ear-splitting bang from outside tears me out of my thoughts, and I hurry out of the shelter to assess their progress, only to freeze in place as I find myself face-to-face with a behemoth biter, dropping my weapon without having fired it once. Not that it matters, as I haven't loaded it anyway.

Towering over me, the green-armored bug stares me down with his black faceted eyes, its mandibles clicking and dripping with spit while it rubs its slender forelimbs in a strikingly villainous fashion. But even though it is standing merely a few feet in front of me, well in range of its chitinous weapons, it doesn't strike. At the same time, a whole cast of smaller biters and spitters closes a ring around me, rendering any chance of escape futile. Where would I even go now that they've overrun the factory?

Still, they neither attack me nor touch me, and their refusal to kill me makes me worry about their intentions. Two years of brutal, unrelenting assaults only to face me in a staring contest? Not that it doesn't work in certain ways. I flinch when I feel something warm and wet running down my thighs as I lose control over my bladder, and my legs tremble like a leaf, only my exoskeleton still holding me up and standing.

Finally, I raise a hand. Is it an attempt at appeasement or condemnation? I don't know, but it makes the bugs back away for a second. Not out of fear or respect, however, but coincidentally to open their ranks and admit a few specimens of an unfamiliar kind of spitter. The carapaces of the newcomers are as white as the snow and much thinner than those of their companions, but before I can get a better look, they simultaneously open their mouths and spit at me.

For a moment, I'm certain that my end has finally arrived, even if my power armor buys me a few more seconds. Execution through acid. A fitting end for someone who's burned so many of them to a crisp. However, the harrowing sizzle of death stays out, and instead, I notice that they are dousing me in stringy, sticky webbing from the feet up. Bit by bit, the mass wraps itself around my body and strips me of my mobility until only my head is free of the stuff, and even that freedom isn't meant to last as they drape a final layer around my face, blinding and deafening me, entombing me in my entirety.

I notice a dull thud and sense a sudden jolt as one of the bugs knocks me over. I still hear their distant hissing and clicking, feel another ripple and a swaying, and even though I can't see them, I know that I've just embarked on a journey away from what's left of my rocket and base to whatever hell these creatures would take me to. Considering the things I've done to them, I cannot tell what exactly they have in store for me, but I know it'll be worse than a swift death by claws and mandibles. Much worse. A realization that gnaws at my mind and remains the only thing to keep me company in this tight, impenetrable cocoon.

Finally, after countless hours of transport, the constant bouncing ceases and my body comes to rest. The peace doesn't last long, however, and I soon sense an erratic pulling and tugging on my entombing silk. The clicking and scraping of mandibles resounds in my ears, wet smacks and agitated huffing, and it is coming closer, getting louder by the second until it's right next to my head. I shiver as something rigid and slimy touches my skin, and I want to pull away, but I still can't move and only hope that their sharp tools don't transition from silk to flesh and that this doesn't turn out to be some kind of food storage sack.

Fortunately, instead of fatal cuts and bites, they give me back my sight as they remove the webbing around my face. However, the sight that presents itself to me instantly squashes any semblance of relief. They've brought me underground, into a cavernous hive of dirt and mud. The air that fills my nostrils is stale and musty, carrying the acrid stench of overgrown insects, and the only illumination is provided by a pulsating pink slime on the walls.

In the dim glow, I see that two small biters are sitting on my body, still chewing and cutting through the tight wrapping that holds me. A breath of hope washes through me as I realize that I'm still wearing my power armor and exoskeleton. If they keep weakening the cocoon's integrity, I'll soon be able to tear myself free and escape! I don't know where to run yet, or how to even escape the bug-riddled underground nest, but it's literally the only option... until I try to check the power level of my armor and realize that my helmet is gone. Apparently, it has yielded to the biter's assault, and as the two creatures gnaw and munch on the rest of my body, it likely won't stay the only thing that succumbs to their mandibles. Again and again, their sharp tools dig deep into the webbing, cutting apart the interwoven strands of silk and also the armor underneath, as I can see them pulling out pieces of wire and metal.

My last hopes dwindle with every bit of power armor they strip off my body, and while I've finally reached a point where I could squirm and wiggle free, I don't dare twitch a single muscle. With their sharp mandibles brushing over my skin, one wrong move could spawn a lot of pain. Instead, I only voice my distress with the most pathetic whimper, "Stop! Stop it! Let me go!"

My raspy voice elicits a swift reaction. One of the biters briefly stops and looks up at me, staring right into my soul with its heartless, faceted black eyes. Does it understand me?

"Please, I want out of here! I promise I'll never cause any harm anymore. I'll go somewhere far away and never bother you again. Just let me leave!" I plea, clinging to the flimsiest straw I can grasp.

Unfortunately, the biter has already had enough of my cries and it lunges at my head, cradling it with its spindly forelimbs. Then, it slides its serrated mandibles against my lips and forces them deep into my mouth. I briefly consider biting down, but that thought is disrupted when the bug's tools reach the back of my throat and cradle my tongue, making me retch and driving tears into my eyes. With a terrible shudder, I realize that I'm just a single bite away from muteness.

Luckily, the dreaded moment fails to materialize. Instead, the biter pulls its mandibles back out of my mouth and taps my lips a few times while its beady eyes scrutinize me with unblinking intensity. It's a threat. It wants me to stay silent? I cannot tell for sure, but I keep perfectly quiet regardless, and the bug finally moves away with a clicker of its mandibles, continuing its wicked work on another part of me.

From this point, I watch the insects with stifled groans and whimpers, perpetually afraid that either of them might take offense again. Thankfully, they don't mind, and just keep going with the greatest patience in the world, exposing patch after patch of my supple, sweaty skin to the warm, moist air of the burrow.

Eventually, the biters also reach my arms and legs, stripping the silk from my limbs, just like everywhere else. However, my freedom to stretch and curl my toes and fingers is taken away as quickly as it has come, because whenever one of the insects has freed them, one of the white spitters steps in to envelop it in new layers of stringy webbing. Without any protective tissue to separate the stringy mass from my skin, the slimy coating quickly soaks into my limbs and spreads through my body, infusing me with a sedating, befuddling cocktail of chemicals. My thoughts grow muddy, while I slowly but surely lose the sensation in my limbs, my hands tingling and my feet prickling before even that feeling turns into nothing at all. Any notion of escape is now completely gone out of the window.

Finally, the biters reach the last part of me, joining forces at my crotch to cut apart the silk, my battered steel codpiece, and my briefs to bare my most delicate region. I'm as taut as a bowstring as I watch their sharp mandibles move down there, and I hold my breath as their tools rub and grind against my concealed cock until they finally displace the final piece of fabric and expose it as well as my sweaty balls and my clenched asshole. However, I'm too terrified to blush or feel any embarrassment about my situation, and if I hadn't been rock-hard from the unwelcome stimulation, I would've pissed myself.

Now that the two insects have liberated me from my initial cocoon, they climb off my sweaty, naked body and crawl out of my vision. My moment of solitude doesn't last long, however, because just seconds later, I hear the sharp clicking and clacking of more chitinous feet behind me, the ground vibrating from the sheer mass of whatever bug is approaching me. Suddenly, a huge shadow looms above me as a behemoth spitter crawls over me. It inspects me with tiny black eyes while sticky, wet saliva dribbles from the puckering orifice that is its mouth, lipless, toothless, and with just two nubs instead of proper mandibles.

My skin heats up as the monster's slimy drool spreads over my torso, but there's luckily no pain or numbness. Whatever is trickling out of its mouth, at least it's no acid or poison, but the tentative relief only lasts until it lowers its face onto mine and presses its quivering mouth hole onto my lips, slathering me with even more of its surprisingly sweet spit. I groan in disgust, only to learn that spitters have tongues, and not exactly small ones when the behemoth rams its thick, fleshy muscle inside my mouth.

Before I have time to react, the slimy, prehensile organ has already reached the back of my throat, and I can only gag with tears in my eyes as it slithers down my neck, stretching and distending it with its massive girth. Deeper and ever deeper, it passes my larynx and snakes through my esophagus until it reaches my stomach, entering it with a wet, revolting pop. Then, a ripple rushes through the long muscle and I hear a distinct sloshing before something thick and gooey pours inside me.

I don't know what the spitter is force-feeding me, but it rapidly clouds my mind and wraps my body into a diffuse, sweltering heat while my thoughts slow to a crawl and my vision fills with dark specks. Although, maybe those are just the first signs of my impending suffocation?

Unfortunately, before I can drift off into a liberating unconsciousness, the bug pulls its oversized tongue out of my mouth and makes me gasp and reel for air, whether I like it or not. And as my lungs replenish their reserves, the black dots before my eyes vanish, and my brain recovers, but the oppressive heat and the strange thoughts remain, fueled by the gallon of whatever fluid is residing inside my stomach. It's so much, in fact, that the sheer amount of it distends my belly into a fat, sloshing bulge, and no matter the circumstances, having this much of anything inside me is bound to have serious consequences.

However, the spitter isn't done with me yet, and it slowly makes its way down my body, brushing its slimy tongue all over my torso and slathering me with its spit. Every patch of skin it reaches instantly heats up and begins to tingle, fighting to reject whatever hormones and chemicals are seeping into it, but it's simply too much to handle. As it moves away from my chest, I see that I'm soaked and glistening with saliva, and I feel like I'm baking in the sun, sweating and grunting helplessly as my vision blurs once more.

A sudden spike of stimulation surges through me when the hulking insect reaches my crotch and coils its fat, slippery muscle around my cock. As soon as it deposits its first layer of slimy saliva, the sensitive skin begins to warm up and prickle with stimulation, and from that point, it's only a matter of seconds until it fills with blood and becomes erect. The rhythmic clenching and pulsing of its tongue even elicit a groan from my lips. Slurp after slurp, it kindles a regrettable lust in one of the more primal parts of my brain and slowly muddies my other thoughts and emotions, my doubts, worries, fear, and even my horror.

Once I've grown rock-hard from the spitter's ministrations, it presses the tip of its hollow tongue against my glans, pushes back my supple foreskin, and shoves my dick into the incredibly tight, squirming muscle with a wet shlorp. Lubed by its slimy saliva, all four inches of my erection slip in without a hitch, and once I bottom out, the fleshy tube begins to contract and undulate around it, squeezing and milking me with almost painful force.

Overwhelmed by the stimulation, I want to pull out of the bug's tongue, but it holds me down with its heavy forelimbs and its tongue, not even allowing me to move a fraction of an inch. However, it can't stop me from squirming and groaning while the tight organ works my shaft like an industrial pump, showering my brain with flashes and bursts of harsh pleasure. Thankfully, my body yields to the brute force in no time, and I cum faster than ever, even though the path to it felt like an eternity. A hoarse croak slips over my lips as my whole body quakes and reels with a strange orgasm, pumping rope after rope of my sperm into the spitter's ravenous gullet.

However, while I'm still caught in the throes of my climax, the monster suddenly decides to switch directions. The overwhelming suction stops and I feel a strong pressure build up at my tip. A slippery warmth envelops my glans and invades my urethra, shoving back my last spurt of cum and strangling my orgasm within a split second. Mouth and eyes wide open, my hesitant groan swells into a deafening scream as something inside me breaks with an unsettling pop. Finally, the bug's fluid begins to flow and rush unimpeded into my abdomen, and the steeply growing urge to pee tells me that at least some of it has ended up in my bladder, filling and swelling the organ until my mind shatters.

After another tiny eternity, the spitter finally stops the infusion and pulls away from my cock, leaving it rock-hard, drenched with spit, and twitching furiously. And yet, while I'm bursting at the seams, not a single drop escapes my gaping, fluttering urethra while the forceful filling has inflated my bladder so much that it distends my abdomen.

I've never been this full before, but the bug still isn't done with me, its slimy tongue writhing under my sack and poking against my anus. Its intentions are crystal clear, but I'm too weak and ruined to resist the inevitable shove. I gag with teary eyes as the girthy muscle forces my asshole open and invades my rectum, spreading my sensitive insides wide open. Fortunately, the tendril's lubrication proves to be an advantage for once, preventing the strange sensation from becoming painful as it snakes and slithers into my ass.

A few more seconds later, the spitter's spelunking comes to an end somewhere deep inside my guts, and once again, its tongue begins to twitch as it pours another load of liquid into yet another hole. Initially, I barely even register the additional filling, since I'm so full and stuffed from the previous fillings, but after a minute of continuous pumping and sloshing, the pressure has risen enough to match that in my stomach and my bladder, breaking my mind into even tinier pieces.

Thankfully, that should remain the creature's final deed for the time being. After it slides its tongue out of me, it moves back to my torso and pulls my tied arms over my head, tying them together with another layer of webbing. While I still wonder about the purpose of its actions, it picks me up at my hands and lifts me up, gluing the webbing to the ceiling of the burrow. It gives its accomplishments one final look from its tiny beady eyes before it turns around and scuttles away into the hive, leaving me all alone, naked, horrified, covered with spit, and unable to move even just a finger.

With nothing to do but dangle in the air, I gloomily ruminate about my current situation and the bugs. .ooking down, I clearly see the consequences of the spitter's actions. Its liquids have swollen my belly into a giant, drooping ball. It is fat enough to make me look heavily pregnant with multiplets, big enough to conceal my cock, and heavy enough to weigh down the rest of my body until every last muscle is sore and aching. And as if the pain and pressure aren't enough trouble, I also feel a mind-crushing urge to piss, but no matter how much time passed, my penis remains achingly erect, barring me from relieving myself.

Why have they violated me and sucked me off? Why have they abducted me and brought me into their hive? What are their intentions?

However, despite rampant discomfort, worry, and despair infusing every last fiber of my body, they aren't enough to keep me awake. The exhaustion is too great, and I finally pass out.

My rest is uneasy and riddled with countless nightmares of creepy crawlies in all shapes and sizes. Again and again, spitters and biters hunt me, catch me, and violate me until even my dream-me is too weakened to continue and my further nightmares lose their cohesion, becoming a blurry mass of discomfort, dread, and heat.

Finally, after who knows how many hours, I awake with a gasp only to quickly realize that even my darkest nightmares had been tamer than cruel reality. Unsurprisingly, I'm still stuck in a damp, musty cave deep underground, and I'm still tied to the ceiling, unable to move a toe or finger. The sensation still hasn't returned to my limbs, but on the other side, I feel the rest of myself more acutely than ever, and I notice that my body has undergone serious changes during my sleep.

First of all, I have somehow metabolized every last bit of the spitter's stuffing, and apparently. it's quite nutritious because it softened my appearance and gave me some padding on my belly. Meanwhile, its spit has soaked into my skin and erased every single strand of hair. From my chest to my pubes, everything has become immaculately smooth and supple, shining with a thin layer of sweat. However, the most glaring change has occurred between my numb legs, as my penis has literally tripled in size, and my nuts have swollen into a pair of melon-sized monstrosities, hanging all the way down to my knees.

To top it all off, my entire body is glowing with even greater heat than ever, and I'm still painfully erect. My twelve inches of engorged, enhanced cock meat are throbbing and leaking a steady stream of slimy pre. However, it's not just average morning wood. I've woken up horny. Maddeningly horny. Too horny to waste any thoughts on my dire circumstances, too distracted to doubt and worry, my mind is occupied by the singular idea of breeding and procreation. The slither of sanity residing in the rearmost part of my brain reminds me how ridiculous that is. I haven't been near another human in years, my hand and toys my only company, and yet I fantasize about putting it into a tight pussy and pumping it full with fertile cream, impregnating one girl after another, making them swell with my seed and babies... in the middle of a hive, hanging off the wall like a piece of meat awaiting a feast. To drink from their full breasts, gorging myself while I give them another creampie, again and again, fucking, rutting, breeding to beget an army.

But with whom?

The dull thudding of footsteps sounds in my ears and the entire cave quivers as a new insect emerges. It's clearly a biter, the arm-sized mandibles on its mouth unmissable, but it's also larger than the largest behemoths I've ever seen, large enough to look me into the eyes without having to stretch. Its black faceted eyes are rimmed with a golden shine, and its carapace doesn't have a single color, but it consists of a glittering, pearlescent substance. It also looks a lot softer and rounder than its battle-hardened companions, sporting an enlarged abdomen about the size of the rest of its body, the smooth black skin making it look strangely plump and alluring.

Then, I hear a soft plop and see that something has dropped out of the giant biter's butt. It's a slimy-smooth, fist-sized orb the size of my fist, and it takes my mind just two more seconds to recognize it. It's an egg! This biter is a queen! No wonder she has such a voluptuous, embellished appearance. At the same time, I wonder about the reason for her visit.

Is she taking inventory of the hive's new catch?

Or am I her royal jelly?

A nervous shiver races through my body as she approaches me, scrutinizing me with her unblinking beady eyes, and I hold my breath as she inspects my genitals with her massive mandibles. Her touch remains remarkably tender for such a gargantuan bug, but her expression is as enigmatic as ever, and I'm not sure what will be her next move. So when she finally reaches my arms and chews through the ties that hold me to the ceiling, I expect the worst.

Fortunately, my worries are proven wrong when the insect queen just puts me down on the ground and lies down next to me, still looking at me with alien interest. Then, she lifts her gargantuan abdomen over my body and guides my attention to its very end, where I'm greeted by a quivering, fuckable pink orifice between the protective layers of chitin. It's glistening with her slimy juices and its purpose becomes perfectly clear when it suddenly ripples and bulges, giving birth to another fat white egg and dropping it right onto my chest.

As the slimy orb rolls off my body, the giant biter slowly lowers her plump bug pussy onto my body, the twitching hole kissing my belly with lewd smacks and leaving a trail of glistening juice as she drags it down toward my crotch. I grunt with tentative anticipation as it bumps against my glans, and a wave of intoxicating pleasure rushes through my lust-addled brain as the squelching, fleshy orifice wraps itself around my tip. A new fantasy forces itself between me and my fears, my worries overtaken by the rapidly rising desire to grab the queen's plump abdomen and shove my rock-hard, aching erection deep into her moist egg cave.

Sadly, my legs and arms refuse to comply, but I still manage to buck my hips and sink another two inches into the insect's warm cunt. Although its entrance is loosened from the eggs, the internal channel is as tight as can be, lubricated by her slick juices and seamed by twitching, clenching muscles, and a wavy texture that bumps and grinds into my sensitive tip. Even the stimulation from my clumsy shove exceeds my horniest fantasy, and it's only just the beginning of a ride unlike any other.

Inspired by my eagerness, the queen reciprocates the favor with matching fervor. Before gravity can drag me down and back out of her, she slams her pussy onto the rest of my cock and slides the remaining nine inches deep inside her snug, muscular channel. The ensuing surge of stimulation scrambles my brain, tears of joy well up in my eyes, and a howl of mindless pleasure bursts out of my mouth. And while I'm still reeling from the first shove, she already continues with the next, sliding her cunt up and down in a relentless cycle.

Within a few strokes, the biter queen's pussy dominates my whole mind and senses. Not a single worry remains in my mind as I surrender to the heavenly tightness and addictive undulations, and the circumstances that have gotten me into this situation are forgotten for the moment. I no longer care that I've been abducted and dragged into an abhorrent hive as I cry and scream with bliss, and my own immobility becomes irrelevant as she speeds up and fucks me with all her strength. My entire body shakes and the cave rumbles as she slams her abdomen down on my penis, but I feel no discomfort from the literal ton of bug crashing down on me, just an endless torrent of pleasure that drives me closer to the edge at a breakneck pace.

Merely two minutes later, I succumb to the queen's stormy affection and erupt with a deep howl. My entire body rears up and my inflated nuts get to work, tensing and twitching violently as they churn up a giant load for a similarly giant bug. She receives my orgasm with an agitated chitter, immediately ceasing all movement to plunge her abdomen onto my dick and envelop it entirely with her tight, clenching tunnel so as not to waste a single drop of my cum.

As the queen's hot, slick flesh contracts around me and sucks my semen right out of my nuts, I finally realize why the insects have changed my anatomy. They've turned me into a breeder, a drone with a longer, thicker penis to better penetrate their giant queen and a pair of massive testicles to provide sufficient output to fertilize the colossal heap of eggs tucked inside her. I doubt that I'm compatible, and yet, the breakneck rate of evolution of her kind has unsettled me ever since I arrived on Nauvis, so I wouldn't be shocked if it turns out that we are compatible and this act results in whatever hybrids a union between a human and a biter would produce.

After another minute of pumping and pulsing, my climax finally tapers off, and as my output dwindles, the queen pulls away from me, her tight vagina parting with a wet, slimy shlorp. An exhilarated clicking bursts from her mouth as she tilts up her abdomen and begins to shake it like an oversized, sloshing rattle.

I watch the spectacle with a dopey grin, fascinated by how she mixes her eggs with my cum, only for my expression to freeze as she lowers her abdomen again. I immediately notice that a massive pink tube has sprouted from her abdomen, right where her pussy was moments ago, and I gasp in shock as she slides the dripping organ between my legs, bracing her forelegs against my chest to pin me down to the ground. Within a second, I realize that I've not just become a breeder, but I'm about to become an incubator as well.

I barely get the time to brace myself before the hulking biter slams her hips forward. Already weakened from the other bug's corruptive juices, my anus doesn't stand a chance against her slimy ovipositor, and it pops inside me with a wet slurp, tearing my ring wide open and spreading my rectum with unstoppable force. No amount of lube and slime can hide the fact that her tool is absolutely gigantic, and I scream at the top of my lungs as she rams the rest of her gargantuan rod inside, stretching my guts and bulging my belly with her immense size.

Within a heartbeat, I'm fuller than ever before, and the overbearing pressure on my insides drives fresh tears into my eyes. I feel like she's about to tear me apart with that oversized ovidong, and I desperately hope that she doesn't do anything more than this. Obviously, the queen instantly proves that hopeless notion wrong when she begins to pump her ovipositor into me at the same speed with which she rode me before. Too fast for me to handle, at least for my brain, because my body somehow withstands the assault and takes the massive rod again and again.

I can't even scream anymore as the biter's brutal rutting forces all air out of my lungs, only feeble gags and chokes pouring from my gaping mouth while tears stream down my cheeks. Any joy I've felt mere moments ago is washed away by pain, and I sincerely hope that the sheer violence of this act lets me pass out soon. However, the pounding never gets excessive enough to knock me out. It's just fierce enough to scramble my brain and break my mind, turning me into a senseless husk of myself while the rampant stimulation continues to wear me down.

Eventually, I'm too battered and broken to care anymore, and I accept the fact that I've become nothing but a vessel for the queen's ovipositor. Among the unending flood of stimulation, the concepts of pain and discomfort soon lose their meaning, and everything merges into a potent stream of twisted pleasure that makes me hard once more, kindling a corrupted lust in my mind and guiding me toward a second climax.

Just before I cum, I bend back my head and look up at the queen. She meets my gaze with a piercing stare, and yet, even though the blurry veil of tears and lust, I notice a strange sparkle in her faceted eyes. Passion? Pleasure? Pride? Though probably just figments of my mind, the idea is enough to make me pop. I gasp with bliss as an orgasm washes through me, and for the first time, I get to experience my enhanced output as I nut over myself and shower my body with my warm, sticky seed.

Not much later, the rhythmic contractions of my sphincter finally stop the queen's merciless pounding. I cannot tell if my orgasm has made her cum as well, but I can clearly feel that she's ready to lay as a thick lump slides down her ovipositor and squeezed through my clenching ring. From there, it travels into my guts until it reaches the tip of her tool, emerging deep inside me with a muffled squelch. At the same time, the next egg already emerges from her rumbling abdomen and passes through my anus, eager to join the first, and I'm sure that many more are bound to follow.

I hate to admit it, but the first few eggs reward me with a strangely exhilarating thrill, prolonging my orgasm and making me cum even harder. What began as a painful rape has turned into another moment of unparalleled bliss, an ecstatic smile growing on my lips as egg after egg pop into my butt, filling and stretching my guts while I spray a literal gallon of sticky, gooey semen all over myself.

My enjoyment of the egging fades rapidly, however, as my orgasm subsides. Ignorant to my hypersensitivity and rising discomfort, the queen continues to churn out egg after egg in a seemingly endless stream. I would've been happy with a dozen, still content with two dozen, but it just doesn't stop. Egg after egg, she forces them inside my increasingly full and stuffed guts. Every new orb shakes me to the core, the lumps shift and slide to make space while simultaneously showering me with flashes of overwhelming stimulation, and I'm whimpering and crying with discomfort as the fiftieth pops inside me.

Thankfully, the queen doesn't attempt to force all her eggs inside me, but when she finally stops laying, the sheer amount of it is still enough to ruin my body and brain. All of my skin is drenched with sweat and cum, and my belly has swollen to a dome of unholy proportions, full of perhaps a hundred squishy eggs and half a gallon of my sloshing cum. I can barely believe that she's managed to fit this much inside me, the sheer size and lumpiness of my brimful guts upsetting me, and yet, I cannot refute its existence, as I feel the pressure and firmness of those eggs as clear as day. Honestly, it's about the only thing I can feel right now aside from the massive, pulsating ovicock inside me.

The queen grants me a few more seconds of rest before she starts to move again. I reflexively clench up, fully expecting her to violate me further and try to force another batch into my butt, but thankfully, she is content with my current situation and just pulls her gargantuan ovipositor out of me.

Another crushing burst of stimulation rattles my broken body as she slides her tool out of my ruined asshole until it finally pops free with a wet slurp, leaving behind a gaping, leaking crater.

Done with her deed, the queen bends over me and bites into the webbing around my hands, lifting my bloated, battered body up and hanging me back onto the ceiling. However, while this could've been it, the gargantuan biter doesn't leave me quite yet. Instead, she moves even closer until her face is just an inch away from mine. She looks me deep into the eyes and she tenderly cups my head with her mandibles, licking over my cheeks and lips in a strange display of what I can only assume is affection? I'm too exhausted to think too much about it, groaning and squirming weakly in response to her kiss.

Eventually, the biter queen lets go of me again and she steps back, clicking and waving at me with her forelegs before she moves out of my sight and leaves me alone with my thoughts and a brand-new belly full of eggs.

Finally, I know what my fate will be. I'm not supposed to die or feed them, I'm supposed to help them create the next generation. Now that my own factory has fallen and died, I've become a factory myself, a baby factory. I don't know if it will succeed or what my offspring will even look like, but that doesn't matter. They will try again and again until it works, and part of me hopes, that it won't be too long until then, because I'm already dreading the boredom I'll have to endure here all by myself.

Indeed, as the deafening silence envelops my brain, hour after hour, I remain as sweaty and aroused as ever, and the corruption inside me spreads into every fiber of my being. Not even sleep can alleviate that mounting unnatural desire, and when I wake up again, something has changed. I do not want to leave anymore. I no longer mourn the loss of my freedom and my half-finished rocket. Instead, I crave more of the bugs. I want them to return so I can feel more of their crude affection, I want to cum again, to fuck, be bred, service them. Serve the queen and her hive forever. And when the familiar clicking of chitinous feet finally returns, I'm ready.