Tits: Breedwell Induction Pod 2
Racer2 Oct 22nd, 2019 (edited) 121 Never
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- The plump loo’rahn stumbles into your cubicle, almost as if she had to be shoved in. Her face is flushed and she’s giggling nervously; it doesn’t take the scent of wine that wafts over to you to know that it took more than the encouragement of her friends to find the courage to step in here.
- “H-hi,” she says, gazing at you shyly. “I’m sorry - I don’t think I’ll be very good at this... ooh, you’re pretty, though.” The big gel woman breathes in the heavy pheromones you’re emitting, and her expression becomes softer. She unbuttons her top, allowing her pendulous, honey-colored breasts to slowly flop out. “I... um, I’m going to go pretty slow. Is, is that alright?”
- You do your best to be encouraging; you moan sweetly when, after several attempts, she manages to line the bulbous tip of her terran-like ovipositor with the entrance of your cunt, and then tell her to rest on top of you, take her time. Her big jelly-boobs pillow onto your mounds as she sinks deep into the folds of your pussy and then loses herself in the throes of it, packing you full of bulging hot ovipositor again and again with quivering movements.
- “You’re so lovely!” she coos, ducking her head down to limpet her lips around yours, breathing wine and sugar into your mouth. Her lips and tongue move over yours as her soft, wide thighs rub against your thighs with increasingly urgent pumps. “Oh, oh... I’m so glad somebody as nice as you will be carrying my kids...” She passionately twines her long, butterfly-like tongue around your tongue as she cums, hot breath advancing down your throat as first one egg, then another spreads your pussy wide, intense sensation sliding up your tunnel, easing open your cervix and depositing itself in your womb.
- The chubby orange rahn rests on top of you for a while, glued to you with sweat and oozing juices, before retracting out of you and wobblingly collects her stuff. Her shy awkwardness returns as the afterglow ebbs - but she still manages to give you a sincere, happy smile before she leaves.
- “Goodbye, sweetie,” she sighs. “Take good care of yourself. And my eggs.”
- “You know, I find the whole ‘strapped down and helpless’ element unsavory,” opines the business-suited doh’rahn that strides in, considering you through her gleaming holo-glasses. “Implies unwillingness. Makes explicit the unfair power structures underpinning this supposedly valiant enterprise. Undoubtedly a turn-on for some, but not really for me.” She unbuttons her shirt a little bit, breasts shifting underneath the thin fabric, and a bloom of musky, spice washes over you. Your mouth waters reactively, and your already-aroused pussy goes into overdrive, drooling fem-cum and flexing up needily. “It’s like they’re saying I couldn’t get anything I wanted from you, whenever I wanted, wherever.”
- Ever so slowly she takes off her clothes, revealing more and more of her top-heavy, purple body and intensifying the heavy smell of her pheromones in the cramped cubicle, carefully folding each of her expensive garments on the table. It’s clearly done to render you a quivering mess long before she slithers off her prim white panties and extends her tentacle-feeler lined ovipositor, and it’s mercilessly effective. You’re wriggling around, flexing against your obdurate bonds, practically panting,, long before she gets to that stage.
- Playing with one of her nipples, she strokes her pseudo-dick slowly over your snatch, letting her short, fat little tentacles to wriggle against your clitty and labia, all the while her hot smell inundates your nostrils and throat until finally the moaning pleas for her to fuck and impregnate you are torn from your mouth. Only then, with a thin smirk, does she line herself up with your hole and thrusts home, making you orgasm in a small explosion of fem-cum on the spot, incredible pleasure making you writhe and spasm in your bonds wildly.
- Evidently quite used to her partners being in this state, the doh’rahn fucks you almost phlegmatically, holo-glasses still in place, big boobs bapping a pleasant rhythm upon her chest as she slides her cock back down your passage and then firmly slots it back in, sensation knibbling through you as her tentacles waggle inside of you excitedly. You seem to get rocked by a fresh orgasm every ten seconds, such is the tactile overdose she’s subjecting you to, gleeful spasms rocking up your body from your cunt again and again. You’re barely even sensate when she does finally bite her lip and speed up a bit, huffing and breasts bouncing as she swells your womb with her round, smooth bounty.
- “Uff! Good,” she sighs, as if she’s just seen some pleasing quarterly projections. She withdraws from your gaped twat, fastidiously cleaning it with a tissue before picking up her clothes. “Hope to run into you elsewhere, Isuka, so we can do this without all the forced, unpleasant nonsense. My company will always need more office relaxers about the place.”
- The fuu’rahn with the nose-stud and asymmetrical haircut has been to see a gel sculptor recently, a part-masseur part-modder who specializes in reshaping the malleable flesh of rahn. You know this because it’s the first thing she tells you when she enters your cubicle, and displays her curly, pigtail nipples and three-toed, talon-like feet to you proudly. She winces slightly as she extends her studded, pointed ovipositor, blowing out her cheeks as she forces out the rounded bulb at the base out of her groin.
- “What do you think?” she asks almost timidly, touching the knot. “I was kinda going for an ausar look with a couple of cool extras, and I’m told people really like this thing on them. Guess I’ll find out for myself, huh?”
- She grasps you by the flared hips and enters your leg-soaking pussy gently, careful eyes on your face as she dips her hardness in and finds your limit, but as her delightful studs rub up and down your tunnel and you make your enjoyment of it clear with arches of your back and clenches against your steel clasps, she grins and goes at you in a more carefree manner, her corkscrew nipples pressing into your boobs as she molds her green-and-blue flesh to yours.
- She loses herself to it so much, in fact, that she doesn’t even notice she’s shoved her knot beyond your parted lips as she tenses up and ejaculates her eggs into you. You certainly do, though; you squeal at the intense sensation, clamping down on her dick reactively.
- “Oh!” she says, blissful expression turning to one of startlement. “Did I do something - ? Oh. I, uh.” She awkwardly tries to withdraw. “I’m, um... kind of stuck in you. Sorry about that.”
- She spends the time waiting for her knot to deflate by playing with your nipples, circling them over and over and licking them teasingly.
- “That was actually kinda fun!” she laughs when she’s finally able to unhouse her ovi-cock from the hot morass of eggs and blue lubricant she’s left inside you. “I can’t wait to knot with someone else and just kinda hang for a little while. Maybe you again, sometime?” She blows you a kiss as she gathers her clothes and bobs her pert, naked ass out into the shower receptacle.
- The track-suited zel’rahn who strides in is slim and svelte by rahn standards, and has the confidence and ease about her of someone who’s done this any number of times before.
- “Oh hey,” she croons, big grin plastered on her strawberry face, gazing at your helplessly exposed pussy as she shrugs off her top. “Look at you!” Casually she leans over you and trails her fingers backwards and forwards over your labia, flicking teasingly at your hard clit before plunging her digits in deep.
- “Aww, how sweet and vanilla!” The rahn laughs as she curls her fingers along your tunnel and you squirm with pleasure gushing girl-cum. She sucks her digits clean before going on. “Lost count of how many of these I’ve stuffed full of eggs. And, I mean, I could keep on doing it forever...” She impatiently discards her bottoms, stroking her extended, blunt barb-lined ovipositor as she firmly slots two of her fingers back into your snatch. “...but you should consider something, I dunno, a bit more unusual if you’re going to keep on displaying yourself, girl. The broodmares with the neat downstairs, they’re the ones who really pull the rich rahn in.”
- The red gel girl lines herself up with the hole she’s been teasing and then opens it with a firm shove of her hot ovi-cock. You didn’t know if a single cell organism could be described as athletic as such, but this one fucks you with seemingly relentless energy, one powerful thrust of her lean hips after another. The barbs of her cock rub up and down your sensitive, pheromone-enflamed tunnel and you cum explosively, fem-cum spurting plentifully around her girth writhing helplessly in your bonds and squealing as she continues to pump you heedlessly.
- “‘S it girl, sing for me,” the rahn domme groans lustfully, grasping your breasts. “I can keep this up all day. I ain’t gonna stop until you beg me for my eggs!”
- She clearly means it, lost in a sun-like blaze of energy. You are mercilessly rubbed to another coruscating, full body orgasm, and when you dimly realize she isn’t slowing down even slightly you find yourself crying out deliriously, begging her to breed you.
- “Louder! That’s it. That’s it!” She plants her mouth over yours and invades your mouth with her long, nimble tongue, twining it around your own as she plants herself into your gash as deep as she can and unloads, your pussy walls swelling with the smooth weight of eggs and the warm gush of lubricant. You groan woozily as she slowly withdraws, barbs grazing down your tenderized cunt, and then twitch as she stands over you and squirts the last of her sweet, musky lube across your face and boobs.
- “Nice,” she grins, admiring her handiwork before gathering her clothes. “Just imagine: in a decade’s time, there’ll be a lot of lil’ mes running around. Maybe we’ll catch up one day, and me and one of our daughters can double team you?” She’s laughing at her own depravity as she saunters out.
- The tall, lithe go’rahn is dressed in an ornate, full-bodied robe and a long headscarf, as if she were a member of some sort of religious order. You doubt anybody religious would have the reason she does for wearing that headscarf, though. You watch as, eyes placidly fixed on you, she silently removes it and allows her mass of white, phallic head-tentacles to move freely, and unravels her robe to reveal a similar wriggling bush of flexible ovi-cocks eagerly thickening and writhing to the scent you’re giving off. You’ve never been more aware of the steel clasps holding you in place as, with a similarly calm and silent smile, this avatar of tentacular lust slowly paces towards you.
- Within a minute you’ve got a girthy phallic feeler rammed into every hole you’ve got available, a head tentacle stretching open your lips as another pumps its gooey, leaking tip past your tight butthole. She easily gets two into your spacious and well-gaped twat, stretching the walls with shifting, restless, prehensile cock. The rest bat their leaking heads against your skin, as if admonishing you for not being able to accommodate them as well.
- You thrash helplessly in your fixed position to it all, groaning and squealing in sudden, electric orgasm, spurting girl-cum, nothing but a receptacle for horny, insatiable rahn tentacles. The bizarre alien groans in husky orgasm herself occasionally, one of her appendages tensing up and spurting warm, white goo into your mouth, your pussy, or your compact, muscular bottom - and each time she simply withdraws it and replaces it with another. It all becomes a blur of thick dick and rahn lube, inundating your brain with the smell and texture of it until you’re washed away on a sea of hard, writhing, white sex...
- You regain your senses a little while later. There is no way to judge how long you’ve been out of it, except the go’rahn is gone and the cleaning cycle hasn’t started yet, so you’re still covered with rahn juices from head to gaping, leaking cunt. Did she even impregnate you, or was this simply an opportunity to inflict her wonderfully horrendous, horrendously wonderful body on someone who couldn’t run away? You guess you’ll find out in a couple weeks’ time.
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