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Clyde has become so used to this wild planet he’s landed on that the arrival of another ship landing almost creates a ripple, a disturbance to the ebb and flow of the viscous life that inhabits this world. The ship is far off and he’s in no hurry to go confirm its presence. He’s near certain that the nature of the planet will consume the invaders and he’ll have his ticket off of this volatile rock.
Clyde checks his supplies, the eel like creature that he keeps as a pet slithers over his shoulder and down his left arm, wrapping around it to serve as the hand that was severed, removing him of his cloak and from the Yaujta clan. He’s not sure if he’s lucky to be alive, but he is and he will prove that he is more powerful than the one who tried to cull him.
He’s been sequestered away on this planet for over a year, learning how to use the other inhabitants as handy tools of survival. He’s convinced that not just any Yaujta could survive such a place and it fills him with pride that he’s managed for so long. Of course he’s had to adapt, to learn how to utilize more rudimentary tools that the planet unwittingly provides.
Days pass by when there’s an explosion in the distance. He turns, watches the sky for the telltale plume of smoke before collecting his gear and heading out into the jungle to hunt.
He’s had his fair share of trophies since his arrival, the vines that hang amongst the tall trees, the little critters that scurry in the rocky crags and grassy plains. He scents the air, catching the acrid scent of long dissipated smoke, keeping an ear out for boots, guns, and other foreign noises to this planet.
He keeps an eye on the wildlife as he passes, the eel, his left hand, also keeping watch and incapacitating anything that moves too suddenly. Clyde however, has learned how to travel through the daunting landscape, how to avoid pitfalls and traps. How to not be a moving target or someone’s next meal.
He’s almost to the treeline when he hears it, a sharp cry. It sounds feminine and his mandibles shift and click. The sound isn’t in the direction of the crash and he’s torn on whether or not he should pursue it, certain that the creature is marked for death. There’s another scream, this one closer and he feels compelled to follow the sound, if only to put the thing out of its misery. He’s learned that some of the inhabitants like to play with their food, particularly if the vines are in a mood.
Clyde pushes deeper into the forest, senses alert and steps careful, not wishing to awaken the vines, still where they hang above him. But there’s a strange glint to the air, like so much pollen and dust has made it golden. He can practically taste it on the air and it makes his throat burn.
There’s a fluttering pulse around him as he delves deeper. He sees one of the mammalian creatures copulating with something outside of its species and he watches it for a moment, head tilting in curiosity. Another scream, louder, closer and another glance up shows him that the vines are coiling and writhing together in some frenzied dance.
He whickers, uncertain and uneasy, realizing that the glinting pollen coats his skin yet he seemingly remains unaffected. It fortifies him, urging him to continue towards the sound, now quieted but still present. The next time he hears it it’s more like a moan, a grunt, and perhaps the creature is also taking its pleasure like many of the other beings around him.
There’s movement, first a shadow then a splash of color in the corner of his eye. He looks around, spots a flash of color up above, a coppery red and he glances up to see a cascade of hair as a human woman is jostled along the vines. Her clothing is torn, bearing pale skin and Clyde’s mandibles flex. The woman is writhing, humping along a vine that’s wedged between her legs, her cheeks red and her forehead pinched. There are other vines that hold her arms and legs, splayed for their pleasure and perhaps hers.
He considers heading forward to the ship but is a little too mesmerized by the undulating movements above.
“Help, please,” the woman gasps in her language, Clyde is only able to understand due to the translating earpiece that he managed to escape with. He watches a little longer and considers that she may know about the ship that has landed, not that he needs her help.
He looks around, finds a distraction in a beast that is writhing on the ground in ecstasy but has no mate. Clyde grabs it by the tail, throws it up into the vines. It’s easily caught and as the vines fumble with their new toy, he blows a poisoned dart into the vine. The vine goes limp and the girl tumbles towards the ground and Clyde rushes forward to catch her with a grunt.
Her eyes go wide when she sees his face and he spreads his mandibles just to see if she’s so afraid she’ll try to run. She practically growls, pounding at his chest with her fists, screaming and kicking as she tries to free herself from his grip. But the friction that it creates between her thighs seems to make her jerk and seize, pulling a whimper from her lips.
He can smell the slick that drips from her ripe cunt. He chuffs, amused by her plight.
“Needy thing,” he comments but it’s clear she can’t understand him. He hauls her over his shoulder, though not without her pounding and scratching at his back, before stalking away from the swirl of gold dust above them. He’s coated in the stuff and so is she, but despite the hum of lust that has taken over their surroundings she still tries to fight him off.
“So fierce for being so small,” he muses. Her skin is hot where it touches the scales that cover his body. She’s burning up and needs relief. He takes her to a place just beyond the trees, to a little enclave that he’s hollowed out for his own use. He tosses her down on a woven bed mat. The human squirms tries to scoot away but is clearly suffering from the effects of the pollen. He’s seen pollen like this before, experienced its effect but didn’t know it was something this planet could produce.
Clyde could just leave her to suffer. Could even put her out of her misery. But he likes the idea of playing with her for a bit. Toying with her. Taking his own pleasure as he alleviates hers. He tells himself that it’ll make it easier to get information from her later. His fingers press into her thighs and he drags her closer to him. She squirms arches her back and he props himself above her, kneeling between her spread thighs. Her skin is slick with sweat, no doubt making the pollen’s task more effective as it clings to her.
She bares her teeth even as she bucks her hips against nothing. Clyde whickers in amusement, his mandibles clicking together. He wants to bite, to sink his teeth in but settles for rubbing over her slick cunt. His cocks thicken in excitement, emerging from their sheath. His anatomy is not like human males and he watches the woman's eyes widen as he removes his lower garment.
Despite the clear alarm she bites her lips before trying to close her thighs together.
“No. That won’t help you,” he utters, inching closer so he can let his cocks rest between her thighs. He pins her legs wide open, the eel wrapping around one, before stroking his cocks through the slick mess. He purrs, the feeling is good but she doesn’t struggle as much as he’s used to with Yauntja women who try to vie for a place on top. She’s slick between her thighs and her skin is warm and soft.
Inviting.
She paws at his hands, nails scraping against his scales. It’s a sharp sting that draws the tiniest bit of blood and makes him hiss in a breath. It’s a nice contrast to the feeling of her against his cock.
“It’ll help,” he tells her, despite her lack of understanding. He holds his cock, the lower long one that is slim but curved, in a fist with his upper one that is short and thick, looking more like the closed bud of a spring tree. He presses them to the human’s pink and slick entrance with a quick thrust of his hips, pushes them inside her hot cunt.
***
If one would have asked Phee if she’d ever thought she’d find herself on an alien planet, with the uncontrollable urge to have sex with an alien being, she would have told them they had taken too much drink. Instead she’s on her back in some little den, the largest Yautja she’s ever seen between her thighs. She should be terrified and maybe part of her is but the feeling of relief she gets as his dual cocks stretch her open overwhelm any other urge of self preservation.
Her fingers bite into the arm that’s braced on the ground next to her as her hips shift, already trying to make him move, the stretch alleviating one sort of ache while igniting a different need. He grunts and whickers as if he is some sort of jungle cat and not something more reptilian, rolling his hips to meet hers. She whimpers, her eyes slamming shut as she sinks into the feeling. Her nerves are electric, pleasure coursing along every vein, skin tingling with anticipation of another approaching orgasm.
He only rolls his hips a few times before she’s coming, her whole body seizing as she clenches around the cocks that are stroking her walls, both igniting pleasure and easing the urgency that came with whatever was affecting her in the forest. She barely got a glimpse of them but it’s almost as if they’re pulsing, the thick one rubbing perfectly along her front wall, the other reaching deeper, the tip curved perfectly.
To her dismay he pulls out, her body still desperate to come again, desperate for something she’s yet to receive. She feels something prod against her ass, the stretch of muscles that are unaccustomed to the intrusion, then the bliss of being filled when those muscles relax. His other cock returns to her cunt and he begins to thrust again. She’s never been so filled, the long cock that fills her ass adds to the pleasure, makes her babble with the desperation to come.
The Yauntja sets a harsh and punishing pace, the slap of flesh joining the sounds of the forest with Phee’s pants and whines, and the Yautja’s grunts. She looks up at the creature through bleary eyes, his fearsome mandables are relaxed as if he isn’t fucking her hard and rough. As if his own life doesn’t depend on the feeling that boils her blood.
He pulls her closer by her thighs, grinds against her, his pelvis rubbing against her clit. It’s overwhelming, his massive body looms over her, the soft quills that extend from his head like dreadlocks swaying with each movement. That’s when she notices the eel-like creature that’s wrapped around her thigh, keeping her pinned to him. It watches, writhing its own rhythm, as if humping her like some over excited dog.
But her attention doesn’t stay there for long. Not as the cock in her cunt thickens, expands almost uncomfortably and he holds still. She can feel him come, his spend hot as it floods her as he lets out a howl above her. The cum soothes the feverish need to fuck, her body shivering with the breifest of satisfactions. Except she can feel something, a squirming inside of her, she tries to pull away but the cock, and then his body, holds her closer. He rolls his hips. It’s enough to send her over the edge into another orgasm, her walls pulling at the cocks inside of her as if they can get even deeper.
***
Clyde groans, as his cock expands, the tentacles inside released from their confines. They spread precum over the barrier to her womb. Despite her being unsuitable for Yautja offspring there’s an urge to breed her anyways. His dual cocks act as a clasp, the top one expanding like a plug, releasing tentacles that spread a relaxing agent against the womb’s barrier while the bottom one braces against the adjoining wall of flesh. The human whimpers and writhes, Clyde whickering his pleasure as her walls massage his lengths.
Her squirming only extends his pleasure, this time releasing his seed into her womb. The tentacles are meant to aid in fertilization, stimulating a female Yautja into continuing to copulate as the seed takes, binding them together despite the usual urge to fight. Clyde pins the woman’s hands above her head as her panic builds. He keeps her close, flexing his mandibles in a show of dominance. She kicks her feet but it only seems to stimulate her further as she arches her back and cries out.
The tentacles stroke and tease the barrier to her womb, coaxing it to open, perhaps one of the more gentle aspects of their species. Her fingers dig into Clyde’s hand and he grunts, pleased with her continued ferocity.
“Such a fighter. Are you a killer of killers, little one?” He teases in his guttural language. Another wave of pleasure rolls down his spine down to his cock, sending more cum gushing into the woman’s womb.
She cries out and he chortles, that little wall dilating and opening just enough for one of the tentacles to slip through.
“I didn’t know if it’d work on a human. You must be part Yautja.” Clyde tilts his head back and closes his eyes, cries out as he fills her with ropes of cum.
The woman groans, once again arching off of the ground.
***
The Yautja speaks to her but she can’t understand him and perhaps she might try to make sense of the rough syllables but her world spins with the haze of her heightened lust as something shifts inside of her. She doesn’t understand the ache, the way her body shivers as something, somehow pushes even deeper. She can feel his cum gush, fill her completely, so completely she can feel it leak out from the place they’re joined.
She can feel the pressure build as if she’s being filled with something more and when she looks down she can see the way her belly bulges slightly. Again she nearly panics but is held fast by the Yautja above her.
He lets go of her wrists when he sees she’s not trying to get away, placing his massive hand on her belly. She sees the claws that tip his fingers and half imagines him shredding her to pieces. The gentleness of his touch makes her pause, makes her look him in the eye. His language is all grunts and clicks as he speaks to her again. Then his thumb brushes against her clit and another wave of pleasure takes over. It’s prolonged this time, making her tremble and shake, grasping onto the body that looms over her.
When she finally relaxes, Yautja purrs like some big feline. His back bowing down until his head is pressed to her chest. She stills and relaxes and she feels the tentacles move, and the expanded cock inside of her shrink. The fever that had taken over her when she entered the forest is gone and it’s the most clearheaded she’s been since morning.
He speaks to her in that guttural way as he pulls away and she sees the twin cocks, one almost split open like a shell, revealing slim gray tentacles like what a floor dwelling sea creature might have. She goes to move as her companion puts his belted garment back on.
He grunts and shakes his head, then hoists her back over his shoulder to carry her through the forest, his cum dribbling down her thighs.
***
It’s not hard killing the clan of men that are with her and she seems uninterested in intervening on their behalf, that perhaps is the most interesting. That is until the fever takes over her again as he’s preparing the ship for take off. She tries to scramble away and he pulls her back with a warning growl. She stills, her cheek pressed into the floor of the ship.
He bends slightly, letting his mandibles frame her still glistening sex. He sucks and licks, his tongue teasing the swollen bud that seems to be the source of her pleasure. She mewls and thrusts against his face. It pleases him, it’s even more like the Yauntja to take what they want. But he knows it won’t ease her suffering.
He straightens up and moves the flap of his garment out of the way before shoving both cocks into her willing cunt. He whickers his pleasure, grips a fistful of her hair and pulls her back. He thrusts against her ass as his sharp teeth graze the delicate flesh of her neck.
“I think you’ll be my new trophy, little one. Get you so used to my cock you won’t need that pollen anymore.”
“Please,” she gasps. He wonders if there’s some sort of ambient translator on deck that’s allowing her to understand him.
“Fuck you on the corpses of my enemies,” he grunts, still drunk on the blood he’d spilled mere moments ago. He reaches his arm around her, the eel slithering to move between her legs, it’s mouth clamping onto the bundle of nerves that make her cry out and clamp around him.
“That’s it. You’ll be Yautja through and through. Unashamed in your pleasure. Fierce in your bloodlust.”
He fucks her harder but pulls out before he can come, earinging a whine of complaint from his new companion. He gets up, pulling her with him to sit in the pilot’s seat. He’s unwilling to let this primitive ship fly without being manned.
He makes the girl turn, straddle his lap before spearing both of her holes on his cock. He urges her to move, slaps her ass so she’ll do the work and he’s more pleased when she does, her hands braced on his shoulder, her eyes meeting his the whole time.
“That’s it. You’ll never go back to only one cock,” he tells her.
She glances at the eel that sits on the arm rest and he chuckles. “Created a beast I see,” he says, as the eel slithers between her legs once more. He can feel himself ready to come, ready for his cock to split open and give her what her body needs. He thinks she’ll be suitable after all.