by Addison Cain
Lifting red lashes, Evangeline looked at the monstrosity fucking her in his bath. “Of the worst sort.”
“Lies.”
“Check your manual. Section 47.2 Human Pets.”
Three eyes blanked for a moment and seconds later refocused, the maw beneath it working its jaw. “I will give you nothing but the best, mother of warriors, pretty siren pet, Evangeline, so long as you season strong young.”
It could not be as easy as this. Life had made that clear enough. “I will want to go home. I miss my parents and friends.”
“You will be too impressed to consider that rancid place or the life you will never return to. Rest is with me. Soft things you demanded and were given. A bath to wash my fluids from your fuck sleeve and heal your hurts, you enjoy even now. What male on Earth would provide better?”
An appallingly excellent question. Deeper she sank into the goop, her mind unraveling enough in the madness of all of it to be honest. “That is so vulgar. It’s called a vagina.”
“I have an affinity for your vagina. It shall be available to me always. Ten spawn a phase.” He thrust, as if reading the chapter on human sex and adapting to draw out his concept of love. “Twenty!”
“Husbands on Earth are not allowed to access the vagina without asking. That is how the best babies are formed.”
Sloshing through the mire, tentacles trailing over every sensitive part of her, “Give me elite warriors, delicate, pretty mist siren. Ride me as you did on the bridge. Understand my affinity, knowing what you can provide my species will bring you honor. But do not try to manipulate your master. When I wish to seed, you will be seeded. Society needs all levels of service. I will sacrifice and so shall you.”
Pulling her thighs farther apart, crushing her leaking tits, Glabrx’s flange flopped and wriggled. Pulsated and leaked.
As if a human man, he fucked her as she lay back against the rim. Evangeline’s eyes drifting closed, her body lax and unnaturally accepting.
He fucked her while this magic bath knit her back together.
He fucked her as he tried out Earth words soaked up from an out of date manual. “Darling, sweetheart, mon amour.” All languages, all tenses, all falling from a sharp toothed, drooling mouth with tongues that lapped at her tits and a throat that hissed out ugliness.
And he came, however his kind did. With a war cry, with a grouping of sounds she could not decipher.
Thrashing, his spawn worked its way down the tube of his flange. Spat from the tip that then worked hard to burrow it behind her cervix.
She screamed.
It was not a scream of terror.
The child made that moment, made upon the pitch of a scream so sharp it sent her lover reeling back was white as fresh snow, with a bright blue line straight down what would one day be a spine.
After collection, Glabrx looked over the squirming thing in its containment bag. “I don’t know what this means.”
Lacking the bulk of its red brother. It had not bit and tossed about. It was steady, as if listening. As if coherent despite its lack of ears or eyes. Sweaty and spent and utterly unraveled, Evangeline panted into the air the strange thought that crossed her misfiring mind. “That one is a holy man.”
“Yes.” A great, solemn nod. “A dream reader. Give me more of these, my love, and the Necrimata will kill in your name. Evangeline.
Five more times he fucked her before she slept on the softest of furs, held to his heat in a ship that was ice cold. Green, red, gray, blue, white.
A different kind of red came from her canal the next phase, released by the machine as Glabrx drained her breasts.
A human period. A thing he took great pleasure in drinking down in the most disgusting of ways. Smearing his maw in her fluids, performing a fucked up version of cunilingus with two tongues and constant physical attention.
She was his favorite snack.
That was to be his game.
Milk was never for the spawn, only him. Only if she begged he take it, or as he gulped in the act of seeding her fuck sleeve.
Only if she raised her breast to his maw.
Then he slipped in his frenzy, twin tongues lolling, a great mouth sucking her dry when he was at fever pitch.
He was going to fuck her and drink her to death.
Epilogue
792 human years later
“You lied to me when you claimed two hundred years.” On her shoulders hung a robe spun from the hair of beasts killed by green spawn, offered to their mother when they burst from their larval form and sought out their tribe. On the walls of her many rooms hung the heads of great beasts, disgusting things terrifying to behold. Those were gifts by the red offspring.
Every shade served their purpose, all equally important, all necessary to the expansion of the Necrimata.
Evangeline had shined surfaces, projections, mirrors, gems the size of people in which she saw that no single line of age had come in all this time.
Her family was long dead, Earth strange and dying according the reports she requested and was always granted.
Spawn seasoned by her body thrived.
Planets were indeed named for her. Warships named for her Great Warrior.
The human pet, once a novelty, was now coveted and guarded so her Glabrx could continue to fuck her. Wasting away over almost a thousand years as he gave his very life to put more in her. Above all, he kept her happy. Learned the concept of human joy. Claiming it created the finest offspring. But she knew, secretly, he too had joy in their strange union.
Had the flesh dealer known how he’d armed so aggressive a species, never would he have sold her. The Necrimata might not have yet blot out the stars, but several system had fallen to the new wave of life. Many quadrants were now theirs.
And though Evangeline never saw proof of another human female when she roamed her rooms or the city in which she was lauded, she knew, as any thinking being would know, that somehow this species—honor bound as they were—collected every one they might find.
“You lied to me, Glabrx.” How long had it been since she’d cried? And eternity, a hundred human generations? She cupped his maw, turned his face to hers as they lay in her furs. “Two hundred years… Instead, for almost a millennia, you have given me more happiness than I might have ever imagined.”
“Your attention kept me potent.” Gray now, withering in these last few phases, his skin flaked, and his vigor drained. “Your love is more powerful than your wisp deceptions.”
Old, he was. His full lifespan achieved despite his constant deposits of life against her womb. Yet, she was still young, with many, many offspring that guarded her like a treasure. And a fleet of potential Necrimata vying for the chance to take her into their care once the Great Glabrx faded away.
More tears fell. “I cannot live without you, my love.”
In that palace, with their children, as violent and strange as they still were. As attentive and giving and utterly bizarre.
“I was commanded to hand over your life key.” Wheezing, growing all the more gray, Glabrx sunk more into his dying frame. “So you might continue your mission with Konjil.”
Kissing his ridged forehead, Evangeline snarled, “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I find myself incapable of sharing, even when our young come to see you. I hate them when they dare approach, wisp beauty.” Death began to cloud purple eyes in sunken sockets. “Another shall not have you, for I know such a thing would make you unhappy. Even in the afterlife, we remain as one.”
The last of his breath left a chest aged and molting, his final words to a being he’d whispered to in the dark as gentle as her simultaneous end. “I think I truly understand love…”
As his life faded, hers did in tandem. Her life key deactivated.
Evangeline draped over his form, a sweet smile on her lips.
And thus they were buried, and thus they were remembered. Statues of their final moments erected on all planets the Necrimata controlled.
I hope you enjoyed this special bit of fun! Thank you everyone who read THIRST and wriggled with all the tentacle action. Want more tentacle action? 1-Click STRANGEWAYS NOW!
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BORN TO BE BOUND
She watched him bolt the door with a rod so thick it dwarfed her ankle, trapping her, cornering the Omega for mating. Unsure if Shepherd had heard, she used her feet to scoot away from the male until her back hit the wall, and tried again. "Food… we can't go out... hunted, forced. They're killing us." Her blown pupils looked up at the intimidating male and pleaded for him to understand. "You are the Alpha in Thólos, you hold control... we have no one else to ask."
"So you foolishly walked into a room full of feral males to ask for food?" He was mocking her, his eyes mean, even as he grinned.
The horror of the day, the sexual frustration of her heat, made Claire belligerently raise her head and meet his eyes. "If we don't get food, I'm dead anyway."
Seeing the female grimace through another cramping wave, Shepherd growled, an instinctual reaction to a breeding Omega. The noise shot right between her legs, full of the promise of everything she needed. His second, louder grumbled noise sang inside her, and a wave of warm slick drenched the floor below her swollen sex, saturating the air to entice him.
She could not take it. "Please don't make that noise."
"You are fighting your cycle," he grunted low and abrasive, beginning to pace, watching her all the while.
Shaking her head back and forth, Claire began to murmur, "I've lived a life of celibacy."
Celibacy? That was unheard of... a rumored story. Omegas could not fight the urge to mate. That was why the Alphas fought for them and forced a pair-bond to keep them for themselves. The smell alone drove any Alpha into a rut.
He growled again and the muscles of her sex clenched so hard she whined and curled up on the floor.
It was hard enough to make it through estrous locked in a room alone until the cycle broke, but his damn noise and the smell invading past the rotting stickiness of her clothing was breaking her insides apart.
The degrading way he spoke made her open her eyes to see the beast standing still, his massive erection apparent despite layers of clothing. "How long does your heat typically last, Omega?"
Shivering, suddenly loving the sound of that lyrical rasp, she clenched her fists at her sides instead of beckoning him nearer. "Four days, sometimes a week."
"And you have been through them all in seclusion instead of submitting to an Alpha to break them?"
"Yes."
He was making her angry, furious even, with his stupid questions. Every part of her was screaming out that he should be stroking her and easing the need. That it was his job! With her hand still pressed over her nose and mouth, her muffled, broken explanation came as a jumbled, angry rant, Claire hissing, "I choose."
He just laughed, a cruel, coarse sound.
Omegas had become exceptionally rare since the plagues and the following Reformation Wars a century prior. That made them a valuable commodity which Alphas in power took as if it was their due. And in a city brimming with aggressive Alphas like Thólos, she'd been trapped in a life of feigning existence as a Beta just to live unmolested, spent a small fortune on heat-suppressants, and locked herself away with the other few celibates she knew when estrous came. Hidden in plain sight before Shepherd's army sprung out of the Undercroft and the government was slaughtered, their corpses left strung up from the Citadel like trophies.
Claire had been forced into hiding the very next day, when the unrest inspired the lower echelons of population to challenge for dominance. Where there had been order, suddenly all Thólos knew was anarchy. Those awful men just took any Omega they could find; killing mates and children in order to keep the women—to breed them or fuck until they died.
"What is your name?"
She opened her eyes, elated he was listening. "Claire."
"How many of you are there, little o
ne?"
Trying to focus on a spot on the wall instead of the large male and where his beautiful engorged dick was challenging the zipper of his trousers, she turned her head to where her body craved to nest, staring with hunger at the collection of colorful blankets, pillows—a bed where everything must be saturated by his scent.
An extended growl warned, "You are losing your impressive focus, little one. How many?"
Her voice broke. "Less than a hundred... We lose more every day."
"You have not eaten. You're hungry." It was not a question, but spoken with such a low vibration that his hunger for her was apparent.
"Yesss." It was almost a whine. She was so near to pleading, and it wasn't going to be for food.
The prolonged answering growl of the beast compelled a gush of slick to wet her so badly, she was left sitting in a slippery puddle. Doubling over, frustrated and needy, she sobbed, "Please don't make that noise," and immediately the growl changed pitch. Shepherd began to purr for her.
There was something so infinitely soothing in that low rumble that she sighed audibly and did not bolt at his slow, measured approach. She watched him with such attention, her huge, dilated pupils a clear mark that she was so very close to falling completely into estrous.
Even when Shepherd crouched down low, he towered over her, all bulging muscle and musky sweat. She tried to say the words, "Only instincts..." but jumbled them so badly their meaning was lost.
Starting with the scarf, he unwound the items that tainted her beautiful pheromones, purring and stroking every time she whimpered or shifted nervously. When he pulled her forward to take away the reeking cloak, her eyes drew level with his confined erection. Claire's uncovered nose sniffed automatically at the place where his trousers bulged. In that moment all she wanted, all that she had ever wanted, was to be fucked, knotted, and bred by that male.
