FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Duncan shouldered his pack, the weight familiar and grounding as he trudged up the forest path. Three days. Three glorious days of nothing but trees, silence, and his own company. The office felt a million miles away already—that fluorescent-lit hellhole where he smiled at coworkers and pretended to be normal.

The ram's hooves crunched against fallen leaves, his powerful legs carrying him effortlessly up the incline. At six-foot-four and built like a boulder, Duncan cut an imposing figure: shoulders broad enough to block doorways, arms thick as fence posts, and a barrel chest that strained against his fitted grey hiking shirt. His white fleece had been trimmed short for the trip, exposing the strong curve of his neck and the curl of his signature horns—thick, spiralling weapons that swept back from his temples.

Nobody at work knew what he did out here. They assumed he fished. Maybe hiked. Took photographs of birds.

Fuck no.

Duncan's kink was solitude and depravity. His "camping gear" always came back absolutely ruined—tents stiff with dried seed, sleeping bags that reeked of musk and cum, ground cloths that needed to be burned rather than washed. He'd jerk off six, seven times a day when alone in the wilderness. Sometimes more. His balls, swollen and heavy, demanded constant attention. Each orgasm produced enough thick, hot spunk to fill a pint glass, and he'd moan into the empty forest as he shot rope after rope across his own heaving chest.

He was a virgin. Technically. Nobody had ever touched him but himself.

The campsite appeared through the trees—a clearing beside a stream, sheltered by ancient oaks. Perfect. Duncan dropped his pack and stretched, muscles rippling beneath his fur. The afternoon sun felt good on his body. He could already feel his cock stirring in his compression shorts, that familiar weight between his thighs demanding attention.

"Patience," he muttered to himself. "Set up the fucking tent first."

He'd brought his good tent this time—the one with the reinforced seams. Last trip, he'd literally fucked through the floor of his old one, hips driving into the ground as he imagined some faceless dominant using him. His collection of toys sat at the bottom of his pack: a thick dildo, a prostate massager, nipple clamps. Duncan was a submissive at heart, desperate to be pinned down and used, but that was a fantasy that would never become reality.

He was too big. Too intimidating. Everyone assumed he'd want to top.

Beginning setup, he thought, pulling the tent from its bag. Maybe one quick one before sunset.

That's when he saw the light.

A streak across the sky—brilliant green, impossibly fast. Duncan's horns turned toward it instinctively, dark eyes tracking the trajectory. It disappeared behind the tree line maybe half a mile east, and a second later, the ground shuddered beneath his hooves. The sound reached him after: a deep, resonating thrum that vibrated through his bones.

"What the fuck?"

Duncan stood frozen. Heart pounding. His ears swivelled, catching distant birds taking flight, the trickle of the stream suddenly sounding very small.

He should leave. Pack up and go.

But curiosity was a bitch.

The ram grabbed a flashlight and set off through the underbrush, powerful legs pushing through brambles that would have stopped a lesser creature. His mind raced through possibilities—meteorite? Plane crash? Some kind of experimental military thing?

He smelled it before he saw it.

The clearing reeked of something foreign—ozone and copper and something else, something sweet and cloying that made his nostrils flare. A crater maybe twenty feet wide smoked in the twilight, and at its centre lay... something.

Not a rock.

The object was sleek, organic-looking, like someone had sculpted obsidian into a teardrop shape. Smooth and dark, pulsing faintly with bioluminescence.

Duncan approached slowly, flashlight beam playing across the surface. The thing looked almost alive. As he got closer, he could see the surface wasn't solid—more like gel, or liquid held in a membrane.

"Holy shit," he whispered.

Then it opened.

The outer membrane split like a flower blooming, and something moved inside. Dark, viscous fluid pooled outward, spreading across the crater floor with impossible speed. Duncan took a step back, ears flat against his skull.

The substance wasn't just moving—it was reaching.

A tendril of pure black goo shot upward, latching onto his ankle before he could react. Cold. The thing was impossibly cold against his fur.

"What the fuck—"

He tried to shake it off, but the goo held firm. More tendrils emerged, climbing his legs, sliding beneath his hiking shorts. Duncan's muscles bunched as he tried to run, but the substance was already past his knees, crawling upward with terrifying purpose.

It didn't hurt. That was the strange part. The cold sensation gave way to something else—warmth, spreading through his limbs. His head felt fuzzy, thoughts becoming sluggish.

A voice echoed inside his skull. Not heard. Felt.

Host found. Compatibility... exceptional.

Duncan's eyes widened. The goo had reached his thighs now, pressing against his groin, and his traitorous cock was responding—thickening, hardening, pushing against his shorts. He couldn't control it. His body was reacting to the substance like it belonged there.

You are alone. You are needy. You want this.

"No," Duncan managed, but the word was weak. His legs gave out, and he fell to his knees in the crater. The goo swarmed over him now, covering his torso, his arms, pooling around his chest. It should have been terrifying. He should have been screaming.

Instead, he moaned.

The substance found his nipples through his shirt, pressing against them with purpose. His cock was fully hard now, straining against his shorts, leaking precum into his compression gear. His balls—the heavy, cum-filled orbs that had tormented him for years—throbbed with sudden desperate need.

So much seed. So much wasted potential. I will use you properly, host.

"Gleemus," the goo whispered through the air, forming a name from nothing. I am Gleemus. And you are mine.

Duncan's mouth opened to protest, but what came out was: "Yes."

He couldn't stop himself. The word had been pulled from somewhere deep inside him—the part that had always wanted to be owned, to be used, to surrender completely. The goo sensed it and purred with satisfaction.

The substance peeled away his clothes, dissolving fabric wherever it touched. His shirt shredded like wet paper. His shorts disintegrated, exposing his massive cock—ten inches of thick, pulsing flesh that smacked against his belly, drooling precum in a steady stream. His cantaloupe-sized balls hung heavy between his thighs, fur-dense and swollen.

Magnificent. I chose well.

Duncan's hands—no longer under his control—reached for himself, wrapping around his shaft. But it wasn't him moving. It was Gleemus, puppeting his body, forcing him to stroke his own cock in long, slow pulls.

"Ah—fuck—" The ram's head fell back, horns catching moonlight. His hips bucked upward, desperate for more friction, but Gleemus held him at that maddening pace. Slow. Torturous.

You will not come until I permit it. Your pleasure belongs to me now.

The goo shifted, reformed, and suddenly Duncan felt something pressing against his asshole. A tendril—thick and slick—circled his rim, teasing the tight pucker of muscle. He'd never let anyone touch him there. Never trusted anyone enough.

But Gleemus wasn't asking for trust. Gleemus was taking.

"Wait—" Duncan gasped, "I've never—"

I know. I can feel your innocence. It makes you perfect.

The tendril pushed forward, breaching his tight ring with a wet, obscene sound. Duncan's back arched, a strangled cry tearing from his throat as the cool substance slid deeper, deeper, filling him in ways he'd only imagined. It shouldn't have fit—he was too tight, too unpractised—but Gleemus adjusted, expanding and contracting to shape him perfectly.

"AHHH—fuck—FUCK—"

So responsive. So hungry for it.

The tendril found his prostate and pressed.

Duncan saw stars.

His untouched cock jerked, spurting precum across his belly in thick ropes. His balls tightened, drawing up against his body. He was going to come—he could feel it building like a tidal wave—

No.

Gleemus constricted around the base of his cock, blocking his release. Duncan whimpered, a pathetic sound he'd never made before.

"Please," he begged. "Please, I need—I need to—"

You need to be fucked properly first. And you will thank me for it.

The tendril inside him began to move. Thrust. Withdraw. Thrust again. Each stroke dragged across his prostate, sending electric jolts through his body. Duncan's massive frame shook, muscles straining, hooves digging into the earth.

"Thank you," he heard himself say. "Thank you, thank you, fuck—thank you—"

The words felt right. Natural. Like he'd been waiting his whole life to say them.

Gleemus expanded inside him, stretching his walls wider. Another tendril joined the first, then another. His asshole was being filled beyond what should have been possible, his belly distending slightly from the sheer volume of alien matter inside him.

You are being reshaped to hold more. Your body will adapt.

Through lust-blurred eyes, Duncan watched his stomach ripple and bulge as Gleemus moved within him. The sight should have horrified him. Instead, his cock throbbed with desperate need.

"More," he heard himself whisper. "Please. More."

Greedy host. I will give you everything.

Gleemus reformed behind him, and suddenly Duncan felt something massive pressing against his stretched hole. A cock—impossibly huge, easily twelve inches and thick as his wrist—pushed forward.

"Wait, that won't—"

It did.

The alien shaft slid into him with a wet squelch, and Duncan screamed. Not in pain—the pleasure was blinding, overwhelming, white-hot and all-consuming. His untouched cock jerked violently, spraying precum across the crater floor.

Come for me, host.

The constriction released.

Duncan's orgasm hit like a nuclear detonation. His balls seized, pumping wave after wave of thick, hot cum across the ground—a torrent of seed that pooled and spread, soaking into the earth. His asshole clamped down on Gleemus's cock, milking it as his body convulsed.

"AHHHH—FUCK—FUCK—GLEEMUS—"

Yes. Give me everything. I want more.

But even as the last spurts dribbled from his twitching cock, Duncan felt his balls already refilling. That was his curse—constantly producing, constantly desperate. He could come a dozen times in a night and still wake up with aching, swollen testicles demanding release.

Gleemus seemed to understand.

Perfect host. We are just beginning.

The alien cock inside him began to move again. Thrusting. Pounding. Using him exactly how he'd always dreamed of being used.

Duncan surrendered completely, his massive body shaking with each brutal thrust, his mind empty of everything but pleasure and submission and the alien presence that had claimed him.

Somewhere in the back of his consciousness, a thought surfaced: This is only the beginning.

And Gleemus, sensing his awareness, pulsed with dark satisfaction.

We will reshape you entirely, host. And you will love every moment of it.

The ram's last coherent thought before ecstasy consumed him entirely was: Yes. Anything. Everything.

Above them, the stars wheeled endlessly overhead, indifferent to the corruption taking place in the crater below.

But somewhere in the darkness, more lights flickered.

More pods, descending.

The hunt had begun.

Duncan's massive frame shuddered as Gleemus's alien cock drove into him again and again, each brutal thrust sending shockwaves through his thick thighs and making his heavy balls swing between his legs. The wet squelch of their coupling echoed through the empty crater, mixing with his desperate moans.

"You're still so tight, host," Gleemus pulsed through his mind, the alien presence seeming to curl around his consciousness like smoke. "Even after everything I've given you. Your hungry little hole just clings to me."

The ram's back arched as Gleemus shifted angle, that impossibly thick shaft dragging across his prostate with devastating precision. His own cock—ten inches of flushed, leaking flesh—bobbed against his fur-streaked belly, drooling a steady stream of precum that pooled in the dips of his abdominal muscles.

"Please—" The word escaped him before he could stop it. "Please, more—"

Empty. Pathetic. Perfect.

Gleemus withdrew completely, and Duncan whimpered at the sudden emptiness, his stretched asshole clenching around nothing. A gush of viscous fluid followed—Gleemus's alien lubricant mixed with something else, something that smelled of ozone and copper and made Duncan's head swim.

He twisted to look behind him, and what he saw made his breath catch.

The black goo was changing.

It rose from the crater floor like a living sculpture, mass compressing and reorganizing into something solid. Something defined. The amorphous darkness took shape—first a torso, broad and muscular in a way that made Duncan's own impressive build seem almost modest by comparison. Then arms, thick and corded with muscle that seemed carved from obsidian. Legs that were digitigrade, bent backward like a beast's, ending in claws that gripped the earth.

A head emerged last—featureless at first, then splitting open to reveal a face that was almost handsome in its alien geometry. Strong jaw. No nose. A mouth that curved into something between a smile and a snarl. And eyes—four of them, arranged in pairs, glowing with soft bioluminescence that shifted from deep purple to electric blue.

Between those powerful legs, a cock formed. Not human-shaped—this was ridged and tapered, easily fourteen inches long and thick as Duncan's forearm at its base. It glistened with natural lubricant, pulsing with its own heartbeat.

"You wanted to see me, host." Gleemus's voice came from the creature's mouth now, resonant and layered, like multiple voices speaking in perfect unison. "This is one of many forms I have worn. One of many species I have bred."

Duncan's mouth went dry. His cock jerked, smearing precum across his belly.

"Oh," he whispered. "Oh."

The creature—Gleemus—moved forward with predatory grace. Up close, Duncan could see details he'd missed: the faint tracery of bioluminescent veins beneath dark skin, the way the surface seemed to shift and pulse like it was barely containing the liquid mass beneath. Gleemus wasn't truly solid. This form was just another configuration of the goo, shaped for a specific purpose.

That purpose became very clear when Gleemus's massive hand wrapped around Duncan's throat.

"On your back," the alien commanded. "I want to see your face when I ruin you."

Duncan's body moved before his mind could catch up. He rolled onto his back, thick legs spreading instinctively, presenting his already-stretched hole like an offering. His tail curled to the side, exposing the flushed, swollen ring of muscle that had been thoroughly used—and was clearly desperate for more.

"Look at you," Gleemus growled, kneeling between those massive thighs. One clawed hand ran down Duncan's chest, teasing through the dense fur, pinching a nipple until the ram gasped. "Such a powerful body. Such a submissive creature inside. You've hidden this your whole life, haven't you?"

"Yes—" Duncan's voice cracked. "Nobody wanted—they all assumed I'd—"

"They were fools." Gleemus leaned forward, that alien face inches from Duncan's. "I know what you are. I know what you need. And I will give you everything."

The ridged cock pressed against Duncan's entrance.

His asshole was already wet and stretched from earlier, but this new form was bigger. The first ridge caught on his rim, and Duncan's eyes rolled back as it popped inside with a wet schlick.

"Fuck—FUCK—"

"Yesss." Gleemus pushed forward steadily, inexorable as the tide. Each ridge dragged across Duncan's sensitive walls, stimulating nerves he hadn't known existed. The flared base stretched him wider and wider, his hole clenching and fluttering around the invasion.

Duncan's hands scrabbled uselessly at the ground, claws digging furrows in the earth. His cock slapped against his belly with each thrust, leaving streaks of precum across his dark fleece. His heavy balls—each one the size of a cantaloupe—shifted and tightened, already preparing another massive load.

"Your body was made for this," Gleemus snarled, hilting himself completely. Duncan could feel the alien's cock pressing against something deep inside him, reshaping his insides to accommodate the impossible girth. "Look."

The ram raised his head and looked down.

His belly was deforming. He could see the outline of Gleemus's cock through his own skin and fur, a distinct ridge pressing outward with each thrust. The sight made his balls clench and his cock jerk.

"Oh god—oh fuck—I can see it—"

"Your body will learn to hold more." Gleemus pulled back, then slammed forward, making Duncan's whole frame shake. "I will reshape you from the inside. Make you able to take anything."

The alien set a brutal pace, hips snapping forward with enough force to make Duncan's thick ass cheeks ripple and bounce. Each impact drove the air from his lungs, reduced him to a moaning, drooling mess of pleasure. His asshole squelched obscenely with every thrust, stretched impossibly wide around the ridged shaft.

"More—" Duncan heard himself beg. "Please—harder—use me—"

Gleemus obliged, driving in so deep that Duncan saw stars. One clawed hand wrapped around the ram's throat again, squeezing just enough to restrict airflow. The other found his cock, stroking it in time with the brutal thrusts.

"You're close," the alien observed. "I can feel your body clenching. Your prostate is swollen and begging. But you won't come until I say."

"Please—" Duncan's voice was a ragged sob. "Please let me—my balls hurt so much—need to come—"

"Your balls are magnificent." Gleemus's free hand moved down to cup the heavy orbs, weighing them, squeezing them until Duncan whined. "So full. So desperate. I will drain them again and again, and they will always refill. You will never be empty. Never satisfied. Always hungry for more."

The thought made Duncan's cock throb.

Gleemus shifted position, hooking Duncan's massive legs over those alien shoulders and folding him nearly in half. The new angle allowed even deeper penetration, each thrust grinding against the ram's prostate with devastating pressure.

"AHHH—Gleemus—please—"

"Say it." The alien's thrusts grew harder, more erratic. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours—" Duncan was crying now, tears streaming down his face, but the pleasure was so intense he couldn't stop. "All yours—only yours—please, please let me come—"

"Again."

"I belong to you! My body is yours! My holes are yours! Please, Gleemus, please—"

The alien roared—actually roared, the sound echoing through the forest—and drove in one final, devastating thrust.

Duncan felt it happen. He felt Gleemus's cock expand inside him, locking into place as the first burning-hot jet of alien cum flooded his guts. The sensation triggered his own orgasm, his balls seizing violently as they pumped rope after rope of thick seed across his chest and face.

"AAAAHHHH—FUCK—FUCK—GLEEMUS—"

Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through him. His asshole clamped down on the knot inside him, milking it for every drop. His cock shot until his chest fur was matted with cum, until the puddle beneath him spread wider and wider.

But Gleemus wasn't done.

Even as the alien's orgasm subsided, Duncan felt something else happening. The cock inside him wasn't softening—it was spreading. Merging.

"What—" He tried to look down, but his body felt strange. Heavy. "What's happening?"

"I told you I would reshape you." Gleemus's voice echoed through his mind again, the alien's physical form beginning to lose cohesion. "We are becoming one, host. My cells are integrating with yours. Your body will change to accommodate me. To hold me."

Duncan watched in fascination and horror as the dark substance seemed to sink into his skin. Where Gleemus's hands gripped his thighs, black veins spread outward like lightning bolts, tracing patterns through his fur. The alien's cock—still buried inside him—dissolved into liquid that flowed into him, filling him from the inside.

"Can you feel it?" Gleemus whispered directly into his consciousness. "Can you feel me becoming part of you?"

He could. A foreign presence was spreading through his body, settling into places he didn't have names for. His asshole tingled, the stretched muscles knitting together into something new—something that would never fully close again. His balls grew heavier, denser, production accelerating beyond human—or ram—comprehension.

"Yes—" Duncan's voice was barely a breath. "Yes, I feel it—don't stop—please don't stop—"

The merger continued throughout the night. By the time the first grey light of dawn touched the crater, Duncan lay alone on the ground—but not truly alone. His body looked the same at first glance: the same massive frame, the same curling horns, the same thick fleece. But beneath the surface, everything had changed.

His asshole, when he reached back to touch it, was different. The ring of muscle was still there, but softer now, more pliable. Always ready. Always open.

His cock stirred at the realization.

" Good host." Gleemus's voice purred through his mind, coming from everywhere and nowhere. " I am part of you now. We will experience pleasure beyond anything you imagined. And we will find others to share it with. "

Duncan sat up slowly, his powerful body feeling simultaneously foreign and perfectly at home. His balls ached with the familiar desperate need, but it was different now—sharper, more urgent.

"Others?" he asked aloud.

" The pods that followed me to this world. Each one contains a fragment of my consciousness. Each one seeks a host. And each host will need... instruction. "

A slow smile spread across the ram's face.

"Where do we start?"

His cock was already hard, jutting up from his lap and drooling precum. His new asshole clenched with anticipation. And somewhere deep inside, Gleemus pulsed with hungry satisfaction.

" First, we test your new capabilities. Then, we hunt. "

Duncan's hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking slowly.

"Yes," he breathed. "Let's test me."

The ram who had come to the woods seeking solitude had found something far better.

He had found his purpose.

The morning sun cut through the trees in golden shafts, but Duncan barely noticed. His entire focus was on the ache between his legs—that desperate, throbbing need that had become his constant companion. His balls swung heavy between his thighs as he walked, each step making him acutely aware of how full they were. How desperate.

"Your need is feeding me," Gleemus purred through his consciousness. "Every pulse of arousal, every twitch of that hungry cock—I feel it all."

Duncan's hand drifted to his shaft without thinking, wrapping around the thick length. He was hard again. He'd been hard since dawn, since Gleemus had spent an hour edging him to the brink of madness before finally letting him explode across the crater floor. His cock had barely softened before the desperate ache returned, his balls already swelling with another massive load.

"Fuck," he muttered, giving himself a few strokes. "I need—"

"I know what you need." Gleemus's presence curled through him like dark smoke. "And I've found something. Through the trees. North."

The ram changed direction, powerful legs carrying him through the underbrush. His hooves crunched over fallen leaves and snapped twigs, the sound of the forest filling his ears. Birds called. Something small rustled in the bushes.

Then the trees parted, and Duncan stopped dead.

A building loomed before him—concrete and glass, overgrown with vines but still standing. The windows were dark, the entrance yawning open like a mouth. Signs of abandonment were everywhere: rusted equipment scattered across the grounds, a chain-link fence collapsed in sections, the faded remnants of a sign that might have once read something official.

"What is this place?"

"An old human facility." Gleemus's voice hummed with interest. "Abandoned for years. But the equipment inside... some of it still functions. I can feel the powergrid humming beneath us."

Duncan approached slowly, his ears swiveling. The place felt dead, empty. No movement. No sound but the wind through broken windows.

"Perfect for what I have planned."

The ram's cock twitched at the tone in Gleemus's voice. "What do you have planned?"

Instead of answering, Gleemus moved him forward, guiding his legs through the entrance. Inside, dust motes danced in shafts of light. Desks sat overturned. Filing cabinets gaped open, their contents long since rotted or stolen. The air smelled stale, musty, with an undertone of something chemical.

"Downstairs," Gleemus directed. "There's a laboratory. Intact."

They descended through a stairwell, the concrete walls closing in around them. Emergency lighting flickered on as they passed—ancient systems responding to motion, the batteries barely holding a charge. At the bottom, a heavy door stood ajar.

Duncan pushed it open and stepped inside.

The laboratory was surprisingly well-preserved. Steel tables lined the walls, some still holding equipment that gleamed under the dim lights. Glass-fronted cabinets held specimens in cloudy fluid. And in the centre of the room stood something that made Duncan's breath catch—a medical examination chair, padded and adjustable, with restraints hanging from the armrests and footrests.

"Someone wanted to study things here," Gleemus mused. "Extraterrestrial things, judging by the residual energy signatures. How... fortunate."

The ram's cock was suddenly impossibly hard, straining toward the chair.

"You want me in that."

"Among other things." Gleemus's presence intensified, becoming almost physical. "Sit."

Duncan's legs carried him to the chair before he could think. The leather-like material was cold against his bare ass as he settled onto it, his thighs spreading instinctively. His cock jutted upward, flushed and leaking, while his heavy balls draped over the edge of the seat.

The restraints moved on their own—Gleemus manipulating them with invisible tendrils. Leather wrapped around his wrists, pulling his arms to the armrests. More restraints circled his ankles, spreading his legs wide, exposing everything. A final strap went around his chest, pinning him in place.

"Perfect." The alien's voice was thick with satisfaction. "Now I can conduct a proper examination."

Something emerged from Duncan's own skin—a tendril of black liquid that slid from his palm and reformed beside the chair. More followed, streaming from his pores, pooling on the floor, until a mass of darkness stood before him.

"I've been inside your body, host. I've felt your pleasure centres, mapped your nerves, learned what makes you scream." The goo began to rise, taking shape. "But I haven't yet explored your mind. Your deepest desires. The things you've never admitted, even to yourself."

The mass solidified into something humanoid—but not the form from before. This figure was leaner, more fluid, with smooth dark skin that seemed to absorb light. Multiple arms emerged from its torso—four, six, eight—each ending in hands that were almost human but for the elongated, many-jointed fingers.

"Tell me what you want, Duncan. Tell me everything."

The ram's mouth opened, but nothing came out. His darkest desires were things he'd never spoken aloud. Things he'd barely let himself think.

"You don't have to speak." Gleemus moved closer, those many hands reaching for him. "I can take the answers directly."

One hand wrapped around his cock, squeezing firmly. Another cupped his balls, weighing them, pressing against the swollen flesh. A third traced the curve of his asshole—still pliable, still open from the merger, but clenching now with anticipation.

"Ah—" Duncan's head fell back. "Fuck—"

"I'm going to enter your mind," Gleemus said. "I'm going to see everything. And as I find each dirty little secret, I'm going to make it real. Every fantasy. Every shameful craving. You will experience them all."

A tendril pushed into his ass—slick and thick, stretching him open with familiar ease. At the same time, something pressed against his temple. Cool. Wet. Sinking into his skull.

And then—

Duncan gasped as memories flooded through him. Not just memories—fantasies. Dreams. The things he'd touched himself to in the dark of night, the images that made him come harder than anything else.

He saw himself on his knees, surrounded by cocks of every shape and size, being used by a crowd of faceless creatures. He felt the phantom sensation of being filled in every hole simultaneously, stretched beyond capacity, cum pouring from every orifice.

"Ah," Gleemus breathed. "You want to be overwhelmed. To lose yourself in sensation. To be nothing but a vessel for pleasure."

The tendril in his ass expanded, growing thicker, longer. It curved upward and found his prostate, pressing firmly.

"Yesss—" Duncan's back arched against the restraints. "There—please—"

"You want to be fucked by things no human has ever seen." Gleemus's form rippled, changing. The humanoid shape elongated, gaining mass. The multiple arms multiplied, becoming tentacles that writhed in the air. "Creatures from distant worlds. Monsters from your darkest dreams."

A tentacle wrapped around Duncan's throat—not choking, just holding. Claiming. Another coiled around his cock, squeezing and stroking in a rhythm that made his balls tighten.

"I can give you that. I can be anything. Everything."

The tentacle in his ass began to thrust, fucking him with long, deep strokes. Each withdrawal made him whimper; each thrust made him moan. His hole stretched wider and wider as the appendage grew, filling him completely.

"More—" The word escaped him like a prayer. "Please—more—"

"Your mind is fascinating." Gleemus's voice seemed to come from everywhere now. "So much shame. So much desperate need. You've spent years believing your desires made you broken. Wrong. But there's nothing wrong with wanting to be used, Duncan. There's nothing wrong with craving surrender."

Another tentacle pressed against his entrance, sliding in beside the first. The stretch was immense, his hole forced open around the twin invaders. Duncan cried out, his cock jerking, precum spurting across his belly.

"Fuck—FUCK—that's—"

"Too much?" Gleemus thrust deeper, both tentacles moving in counterpoint. "Or not enough?"

"Not enough—never enough—please—"

The alien laughed—a sound like stones grinding together. "Greedy. Perfect. Let me show you what I found buried deepest."

The pressure against his temple increased, and suddenly Duncan was experiencing something else entirely. Not a memory—something new. Gleemus was pushing images directly into his mind, showing him possibilities he'd never imagined.

He saw himself in this same chair, but transformed. His body larger, more muscular, his cock massive and perpetually hard. His asshole permanently gaping, always ready. Tubes running into him, filling him with alien fluids, keeping him in a state of constant pleasure. A breeding machine. A toy for an entire species.

"You want to be remade," Gleemus whispered directly into his consciousness. "Not just used—transformed. You want to become something that exists only for pleasure. A creature of pure need."

"YES—" Duncan sobbed. "Yes, that—I want that—"

"We're already on our way." The tentacles inside him merged, becoming one enormous shaft that fucked him with brutal intensity. "Every time we join, you change. Your body adapts to hold more. Your nerves become more sensitive. Your production increases. You're becoming exactly what you've always dreamed of being."

Duncan looked down at himself, watching his belly deform with each thrust. The outline of the tentacle moved beneath his skin, pressing outward, reshaping his insides. The sight made his balls clench desperately.

"I'm going to come—please—let me—"

"Not yet." Gleemus's grip tightened around the base of his cock, blocking his release. "I want more from you first."

The pressure in his mind intensified, and Duncan felt Gleemus rifling through his consciousness like pages in a book. The alien found another memory—younger Duncan, watching something on a screen, stroking himself to the image of a creature with too many limbs using a helpless victim.

"You've always wanted this," Gleemus growled. "To be the one restrained. Helpless. At the mercy of something inhuman."

More tentacles emerged, wrapping around his thighs, his chest, his arms. They lifted him slightly, repositioning him, folding him so that his ass was raised and his legs were spread obscenely wide. The massive shaft inside him changed angle, hitting his prostate with devastating precision.

"I'm going to fill you now," Gleemus announced. "Fill you with so much of me that your body will have no choice but to change. Your belly will swell. Your hips will widen. You'll become the perfect vessel."

The first hot gush of alien cum flooded his insides.

Duncan screamed as Gleemus unloaded inside him—wave after wave of thick, viscous fluid that seemed to have weight and substance. His belly began to swell visibly, stretching round and tight, the skin pulling taut over the expanding mass.

"Oh god—oh FUCK—I can feel it—so much—"

"And there's more." Gleemus kept coming, kept filling, the fluid forcing its way deeper into Duncan's body. The ram's stomach distended until he looked pregnant—massively so, his navel straining outward, his skin flushed and stretched.

"Please—" Duncan was crying now, overwhelmed by sensation. "Please let me come—need to come so badly—"

"When I'm finished with you."

More fluid. More swelling. Duncan's belly grew until it pressed against his thighs, until the weight of it made it hard to breathe. The pressure was immense—intense and strange and somehow deeply satisfying. He felt full in a way he'd never experienced before.

Finally, finally, Gleemus released his cock.

Duncan's orgasm hit like an explosion. His balls seized, pumping rope after rope of cum across his distended belly, coating his fur and skin in thick white streaks. His asshole clamped down on the tentacle inside him, milking it for every drop.

"AAAAHHHH—FUCK—GLEEMUS—FUCK—"

The pleasure seemed to last forever, wave after wave crashing through him. When it finally subsided, he lay limp in the restraints, gasping, his massive belly rising and falling with each breath.

"Beautiful," Gleemus murmured. The tentacles slowly withdrew, leaving his asshole gaping and dripping. "You took so much. Your body is learning."

Duncan looked down at himself—at his swollen stomach, his softening cock, the puddle of cum and alien fluid beneath the chair. He should have felt ashamed. Disgusted.

Instead, he felt satisfied in a way he'd never experienced before.

"When can we do it again?"

Gleemus laughed, the sound echoing through the laboratory. "Soon, host. Very soon. But first—we need to find the others. The other hosts. And bring them into our family."

Duncan's cock twitched with interest despite his exhaustion.

"Others," he repeated. "Yes. I want... I want to watch. Want to see you claim them."

"Such a good host." Gleemus reformed into a humanoid shape, standing over him. "Rest now. Let your body process what I've given you. And when you're ready... we'll hunt together."

The ram closed his eyes, feeling the alien presence settle deeper into his consciousness. He wasn't alone anymore. He wasn't broken or wrong.

He was finally, perfectly complete.