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The sun woke Dixon at noon. He struggled to dress, and, once clothed, tripped over the jumble of notebooks and electronics on the floor of his hut and stumbled out the door.

After six years of on-and-off study of the indigenous tribe he was currently living with, last night he'd been allowed to participate in night one of the tribe's most secret four-night festival. Last night's events had kept him awake near dawn and had exhausted him more than he ever had been. Dixon wasn't sure how he was going to survive the remaining three nights of celebration.

---

Once Dixon had finished his chores, he slunk back to his hut for a nap as he'd seen other tribespeople do throughout the day.

Dixon woke an hour before sunset to Tekel, his male interpreter, crouched beside him with a hand on his shoulder to rouse him. Dixon rolled onto his back, sat up, and, back hunched, rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands.

“It is time," the tribesman said. “The festival preparations are finished and we are gathering in the village center."

Vivid memories of sights, sensations, sounds, and tastes surged from the back of Dixon's mind; he shuddered. Tonight he wasn't sure he could exercise the same restraint he'd had the night before.

He swallowed the nervous nausea creeping up his throat. “All right. Lead the way, Tekel."

The pair exited the clutter of Dixon's hut and wove through the outskirts of the village, where Dixon was stationed, and into the village center, which was reserved for the homes of important tribespeople. These homes ringed an area of cleared earth large enough to fit the village's several-hundred person population.

The village center was decorated as it had been the previous night. Red and orange leaf lanterns hung from the eaves of the huts and were strung above the village center, giving the area a candlelit-dinner appeal. Groups of villagers—married paired and unmarried in small clusters—surrounded cooking stoves brought from their homes that outlined the cleared area.

Dixon and Tekel joined Ipael, a tribeswoman learning English, in front of her stove. The trio watched the fast-fading rays of dusk dip behind the roofs of the huts until what illumination remained was from the lanterns.

The group stocked the stove with charcoals and stoked a fire, and Ipael produced a jar of cooking oil in preparation to fry the festival food. And everyone—the majority of the adult population of the village—waited.

They waited, murmuring in the darkness. The idle time made Dixon realize he hadn't eaten all day. His stomach twisted both in anticipation of the delicacy they would all receive and in anticipation of what he'd experience once the meal was finished and the festivities picked up.

---

The hunting party was late again. When they arrived, the tribespeople jumped to their feet in celebration of the arrival of the pair of hunters led by a village elder and accompanied by a young woman whose role Dixon still wasn't sure of.

Ipael chattered to Tekel in their native language while she distributed wooden bowls among the trio. Then they were on their feet, in line, scooping their “ant pods" from the sacks the hunters had brought, and returning to Ipael's stove to fry and enjoy this rare food.

While Dixon scarfed down the cooked pupae, he tried—and failed—not to think about how much he didn't want to go home alone tonight. He shouldn't sleep with a villager. It would change his dynamic with the tribespeople and compromise his studies. But arousal didn't care about his studies. It had taken all his willpower to refuse Tekel last night.

All present glutted and drank until their thirst was sated, then began the music and the dancing. Musicians with drums and wind instruments speckled the outskirts of the village center, which became a dance floor. Couples danced and the musicians serenaded singles who'd stayed near. Dixon remained at the center's edge, but made sure he wasn't one of those singles.

The nauseating squirming began in his stomach. Dixon drank more water, which fed the feeling, and spent a haze of minutes fixating on the writhing inside and watching the dancing. He tried to decide when would be best to “go alone," as Tekel had described it the first night of the festival.

Speaking of his interpreter, Tekel sat beside him and Dixon turned to him. The flickering light from the leaf lanterns cast shadows across Tekel's face and accented the outline of his nose, the curve of his lips, the appeal of his sun-darkened skin. Dixon swallowed and looked away.

Tekel scooted closer. Their hips touched.

Dixon's throat was tight. He needed to say something to dissuade Tekel, but could find neither the words nor desire.

A tribesperson moved toward him. Before Dixon could process who it was, he was on his feet and locking eyes with—it was Ipael, heavy of breath on the edge of panting.

“My dancer left. Will you dance?"

There was no mistaking the look in her eyes, nor the way her eyes slithered down Dixon's body to the tent in his pants. His arousal wasn't for anyone in particular, but it could become for her.

She locked eyes with Dixon again. “Dance," she whispered. She took his hands and walked backward with him into the village center.

“I—" Dixon tried to refuse, but her expression killed the words.

She was less flirty than Tekel—less seductive and more demanding. At that moment, she was temptation embodied. Her heaving chest, the sheen of sweat on her barely covered breasts—it was intoxicating. His eyes drifted down her body, to her thighs, the insides of which glistened with moisture.

But the dynamic, he reminded himself. He couldn't change how he interacted with the tribe, and when it came to the women—especially a married woman like Ipael—he couldn't risk pregnancy, either.

“Maybe...not dance?" she asked. Dixon tore his eyes off of her wetness and met her gaze. She seemed to search him for something she must not have found, because she made a frustrated sound. “Go with me?"

“I—I can't," he panted. The squirming low in his gut intensified and stirred up an animal desire that made it difficult to think about anything but the fantasy of his cock sliding along her thighs and becoming slick with her wetness. He could imagine his cockhead kissing her clitoris, then her labia, and drifting south a touch more and sliding inside her. Would he be able to feel the creatures in her body writhing against his cock?

By some feat, Dixon pulled away, but once free of her grasp, he backed into the solidness of a man—of Tekel.

Dixon turned to face Tekel and summoned the will to refuse him, but then the tribesman pulled them flush and their clothed, hard cocks ground together and he lost the battle with lust. Dixon exhaled in a burst and shivered full-body when Tekel slid a hand down his side, around to the small of his back, then lower, and grabbed his ass.

“Come with me tonight."

Dixon couldn't speak. Tekel smirked and took him by one hand, and, together, they exited the village center. Path illuminated by starlight, they wove through huts until they came to Tekel's home on the village outskirts.

The walk had stimulated the creatures in his body to move lower in his system. Their writhing was now two-thirds of the way down his abdomen and they began to struggle more aggressively. Their nauseating, yet arousing squirming became his focus, followed shortly by his hard cock and how he'd followed Tekel home to act on this festival lust.

At the entrance to Tekel's hut, something within Dixon reminded him that he shouldn't be doing this, but then Tekel dragged him inside and kissed him, and everything in Dixon's mind focused on that.

The kiss started slow, but Dixon had no patience for that and Tekel gave in to his eagerness. They all but fell onto Tekel's bedding and Dixon surrendered to his every base desire and pinned the tribesman by his wrists.

A moan slid from Tekel's throat and Dixon paused, released him, and propped himself up on his hands. His eyes traveled over Tekel's body, devouring every bit of his lithe hunter's build, and settled on his hard cock that the tribesman's grass skirt could no longer hide. Dixon dropped down and kissed him again.

Tekel submit to him and Dixon kissed him as though it were as necessary as breathing. Tekel kissed with just as much eagerness and put his palm on Dixon's chest, which he dragged his hand down. Every bit of Dixon that he touched burned hot in the best way, in a trail down his belly, where the tribesman settled his hand and pressed.

Dixon choked on a moan. The pressure agitated the creatures inside him and they writhed as though reaching for Tekel's hand. Trapped between Dixon's skin and that hand, their motions became all the more apparent and the tingling made his cock throb.

“T-Tekel," he gasped.

The tribesman muttered something in his native language that Dixon recognized as a term of endearment. Tekel dipped his hand lower and brought up his other one, and then he was unbuttoning and unzipping Dixon's pants, and Dixon was grinding against his hand and making the job difficult.

Tekel shushed him in a whisper. “We will be joined soon."

They tore at each other's clothing. Dixon lost his pants first, Tekel lost his skirt, and then the tribesman yanked off everything else touching Dixon's skin. They lay together, grinding their cocks against each other's stomachs, and though Dixon wanted more, he couldn't will himself to pull away from what he had.

“I need you," Tekel muttered against Dixon's lips.

That was the encouragement he'd needed.

It was the encouragement he needed. Dixon sat up and his eyes met with Tekel's before his gaze drifted down his body and to his cock. Their skin was wet with precum, and Tekel's shivering and shaking made his cock bob up and then lie flat against his stomach on slow repeat.

Dixon pressed his palm against Tekel's belly and Tekel made an animal sound of pleasure. As the insects in him had, the ones inside Tekel squirmed against his hand. The creatures in Dixon's system seemed to detect that, and they, too, squirmed with a fever while they clamored lower in his body, kicking up a foreign yet pleasant sensation that made him forget how to breathe.

“I need you," Tekel panted. “I need you."

“You can have me," Dixon panted in return. He slid his hand from Tekel's belly, across his cock—Tekel bucked up into the touch—and then down past his interpreter's cock and underneath his balls.

Dixon was dizzy from breathing so hard. He pressed the tip of one finger against Tekel's asshole and the tribesman flexed against him and let loose moisture onto his fingertip. It made Dixon's skin tingle. Were the larvae that far down in Tekel's system already?

Through his gasping, Dixon exhaled a “fuck" and pressed his finger in. Tekel gave easily to him and was soaking wet inside. Dixon added a second finger. Tekel bucked against his hand. He added a third finger. Tekel came undone beneath him in a mess of shaking and murmuring in his native language.

Without touching his cock, Tekel came in a jet that arced several inches from his cockhead and splattered on his chest. The sight almost had Dixon following suit.

Tekel murmured something else in his native language that Dixon didn't understand, but he understood the tone of voice it was said in. There was desire in those words—desire that Dixon was burning to act on. He took one of the tribesman's legs by the inner thigh, dragged it up against his hip, and lined his cock up to him with his free hand. In one fluid stroke, he sank into Tekel to the base.

It was unlike anything Dixon had ever felt. Tekel was soaking with larval secretions that drenched Dixon's cock and made every bit of it tingle, and his insides seemed to shudder around Dixon in ripples. Against Dixon's cockhead were the worms, writhing their pliable bodies against him, taking shape like putty to wrap flush with his skin and then deforming to press elsewhere. Their squirming worked their secretions beneath Dixon's foreskin and made his cock so sensitive it was almost nauseating.

Tekel muttered something else and Dixon met his eyes. They were half-shut and clouded with pleasure—an expression that almost drove Dixon to climax.

Dixon withdrew his cock to the head and thrust back in; Tekel arched his back beneath him as though trying to press closer.

The creatures in Dixon's digestive system fought en route to their escape. They reached that spot inside him that forced a spike of pleasure through his cock. He ground into Tekel and thrust again; the tribesman wrapped his arms and legs around him. From there, Dixon was on autopilot. The next few moments were a confusion of sensations. Thrusting into Tekel, wrapped so tightly around him. Kissing Tekel with too much teeth and too much tongue. Fucking Tekel—and the larvae inside him—against the straw mattress and losing track of time.

The larvae crept lower in Tekel's system, surrounded Dixon's cock, and ripped an endless orgasm from him. He thrust into Tekel and came until he'd exhausted his body's supply, and even then, continued to climax dry, thrusting and unwilling to stop.

Beneath him, Tekel bucked against him and clawed his back. A jolt of pain pulled Dixon into clarity long enough for him to wrap his hand around his partner's cock, and then Tekel was dragged into the unending orgasm, too.

The larvae in Dixon's body had also worked down farther. He rested his forehead against Tekel's heaving chest to try to keep himself upright and flexed his ass in attempt to keep the larvae inside him, against his sweet spot. But their desire to escape was stronger than his ability to keep them in, and he felt a stream of fluid trickle out of him.

Tekel's larvae, too, demanded exit. They struggled at the base of Dixon's cock and squirmed against him to escape. Tekel gave in to them and shuddered, allowing a larva to slip out of him and plop onto Dixon's balls, where it continued to struggle and work its tingling secretions into his skin.

Both sets of larvae grew more aggressive. Dixon could no longer contain his. They broke free from his ass, writhing out of him in a stream, each of their pliable bodies making Dicon's asshole tingle when they slipped past it, soaking his balls in their secretions and pooling on the ground between his knees. Tekel's were forced to exit slower, blocked from their freedom by Dixon's cock. The resistance seemed to make them more restless.

Dixon choked on his own saliva and moaned into Tekel's chest. One of the worms against his cockhead seemed to have had enough of struggling to get past its broodmates and dipped its head into Dixon's pisshole. It writhed against his urethra, Dixon's cock twitched, and then the worm was forcing its way inside.

Dixon garbled something that was lost between mortification and ecstasy. The larva worked its entire undulating body inside of his cock, until it was past his cockhead and working its way even deeper inside. Dixon felt every bit of its body widening his insides and coating them with that tingling lubricant that made him more pliable.

The larva reached the base of Dixon's cock, then slipped even deeper, against his sweet spot, and he came. His body shivered around it, and while the larva compressed, it did not give, which magnified his orgasm tenfold. It left him in a haze, caught between feeling it inside him, and Tekel and the rest of the worms wrapped around his cock.

Tekel's larvae broke the dam containing them. They writhed out of his body, slipping around Dixon's cock and gradually leaving his soaked balls and cock numb. They pooled on the ground beneath him and Tekel, mingling in a joint puddle.

Some couldn't escape Tekel fast enough. They followed their adventurous broodmate in lapping at Dixon's cockhead, then kissing his urethra before they dipped inside. One after another, they piled in, until Dixon felt his cock bulging—swollen against their combined mass. The first one, deepest inside him, squirmed further—up, it felt like. Then Dixon was assaulted with the need to urinate, and the soft, slippery larva breached his bladder's sphincter and slid inside.

Dixon froze, though his lower body continued to shake with unending orgasm. He didn't have time to process the sensation of the one larva in his bladder before the ones behind it followed its path. Dixon counted a second one entering his bladder. A third. He could feel them squirming against his inner walls, spurring on a sensation of wanting to piss, but being unable to. Then another one slipped in, and another one, and Dixon lost count.

He was a mess of moaning and shaking, lost in orgasm until it hurt to come. More larvae slithered into his cock, loosened by the secretions of the others, and piled into his bladder until it felt tight—swollen and tingling—near to bursting.

Dixon withdrew his cock and the last few worms slid free from a moaning Tekel alongside a torrent of larval secretions. But Dixon couldn't focus on the tribesman. He instead sat up on his knees and put his hand against his lower abdomen for a split second before retracting it. The larvae inside him assaulted his distended bladder, leaving Dixon tensing and relaxing with the urge to urinate, but nothing but a slow trickle of the larvae's clear fluid exiting his pisshole.

He exhaled on a shiver and placed first one palm on his lower belly, then both hands. The larvae that squirmed within him expanded his bladder to the point it looked like the early stages of pregnancy, but when he placed his hand firmly against the bulge, he felt the worms squirming within.

His body didn't know how to react. The fullness in his body and the need to urinate was almost unbearable, but was it painful? He moaned, grimaced, and bit the inside of his cheek. No matter how he strained, the larvae refused to exit the way they'd come, leaving Dixon distressed.

“They are inside," Tekel muttered below him.

Dixon looked down at the tribesman, who placed a shaking hand on his distended bladder.

“I have never before seen this." He dragged his palm down to the base of Dixon's cock—still hard and twitching, though no longer climaxing. “It must feel amazing inside."

Had he anything to say, Dixon wouldn't have had the chance to before Tekel slid his middle finger into his urethra. It sent a shock through him, but not of pain he'd normally anticipate. It was instead a jolt of pleasure that made his insides cramp and then spasm against the larvae packed into his bladder.

The spasming didn't stop. It came in waves that Dixon was sure were meant to push the larvae out, but instead had Dixon tensing his bladder to keep the forced pleasure rippling through him.

“T-Tekel," he stammered. The tribesman thrust his finger into and out of Dixon's cock, the outside of which had become numb with the secretions, but the inside of which had been exposed recently enough that it still tingled. “Oh my g-god..."

“Dixon..."

There was a tilt of desperation to Tekel's voice that made Dixon look down at him.

Tekel bucked his pelvis up and Dixon knew what he wanted—or knew what he would have wanted, had their places been traded.

Dixon scooped up palmfuls of their mingling larvae and poured them over Tekel's lower belly and cock. Once the shivering tribesman's stomach, cock, and balls were coated in writhing worms, Dixon wrapped his hand around Tekel's cock. The sheer amount of larval secretions made it slip into and out of Dixon's fist every time Tekel bucked his hips.

He couldn't have guessed how long they stayed like that—Tekel fingering his cock and fucking his hand, and Dixon, orgasming around the larvae in his bladder and urethra. There wasn't one huge orgasm to end them all, but rather a trickling down of pleasure until it faded into an ache that Dixon's brain could recover from.

“Guh," Dixon gasped when Tekel's finger slid out of his cock.

Tekel panted a laugh beneath him. “I am glad you came home with me."

Dixon didn't know how he'd managed to stay balanced on his hands and knees. Careful to avoid crushing any of the larvae squirming on the ground, he lay beside Tekel, panting, exhausted, and still being assaulted by the creatures in his bladder.

“How do I get them out?" he asked. He dragged his fingertips over his bladder bulge, and Tekel reached over and did, too.

“I am unsure," he said.

Dixon's heart stuttered. “You're...unsure."

“They must leave." Tekel sounded unconcerned. “Come. Let us take them into the woods. I am sure the ones inside will come out when they find a better home."

It took them what felt like ages to pick themselves up, locate a bag, and fiddle the larvae into it with their numb hands and fingers. They managed near dawn, and together, Dixon and Tekel left the village for the nearby woods.

They traveled near to a stream and selected a decaying tree for their newborns. They poured the larvae from the bag against its trunk, and they bored into it to start their independent lives.

Dixon winced. The larvae in his bladder continued to squirm on the edge of pain, but none attempted to slink out.

“Here," Tekel said. He dragged Dixon toward the tree by his wrist and ran his finger through some of the secretions left on the bark by the larvae. The tribesman cupped Dixon's cock and balls in his other hand, but before Dixon could ask what he was doing—or say that he couldn't possibly come again—Tekel slid his lubricated finger into his cock.

“What are y—"

Tekel pressed his finger in to the knuckle, until the tip of it was touching one of the larva in the base of Dixon's cock.

Tekel's idea worked. The larvae squirmed ferociously, then, all at once, downward. Tekel pulled his finger out and a burst of larval fluid exited Dixon's cock.

Dixon braced himself against the tree, panting and gasping. The larvae crowded his bladder's exit, struggling by it one by one—slinking out of Dixon's cock and dropping onto the rotting tree—until their writhing and their slime had worked the muscle into putty and they were able to burst out and into his urethra.

Whether it was pain or pleasure that had Dixon sobbing, he wasn't sure. The only thing that existed were the clumps of worms gushing out of his cock, stretching his urethra wider than it was ever meant to stretch until every one of them had slid out and left Dixon's empty bladder spasming as it struggled to eject the larval secretions that anesthetized his insides.

“Dixon."

Dixon turned his eyes toward Tekel, who put his hand on Dixon's forehead and moved his sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes. Shivering, he managed to stand upright.

“Do you want to bathe before we return?"

Dixon, brow drawn, looked at Tekel. How could Tekel recover from an experience like this so quickly? Dixon's mind was still trying to come back down to earth.

“I..."

“You will want to." Tekel took Dixon by the forearm—Dixon braced his weight against him—and together, the pair made their way toward the bathing area upriver.