Doom-mates - Feeding Time

Feeding time for the Posessed.

It was approximating 6:00 am Mars-time at the main UAC Facility for Nu-Mars colony 1.

Within the bowels of the facility, an alert blared in Post-Human Employee Quarters #5. The ‘Quarters’
 was a massive square chamber, lined with automatic doorways.

Through the larger sliding doors on the northern strolled a UAC employee wearing a padded hazard suit, looking over a checklist on his data-pad. “Rise and shine! It’s morning time.” He said with belated enthusiasm.

He pressed a button on the wall, which began to open the many doors in the room. Slowly, out of the dark chambers about twice as large as the average closet, walked a whole lot of possessed. They were buck naked, save the ID-tags they wore around their necks. They groaned, drool dripping down their chins as the shambled towards the center of the room. Whenever one bumped into another, they’d pause, slur out a “Sorr…y…” and keep walking.

Eventually, they were all gathered in the center of the room. On the wall, a massive screen flickered to life, showing a panoramic view of a perfect morning on a rockwell-esque farm.

The shambling demonically infused former humans shifted on their feet. “Good… morrrning…” Said one to it’s neighbor. Who nodded and replied with the same greeting.

The UAC worker in the suit nodded to himself as he finished his headcount. “Alright ladies, get dressed, then it’s feeding time.”

A murmur of drowsy excitement surged through the small horde, many drooling and licking their lips. Feeding time was good. “Food…!” “… good… food…. eat…” “Good morning…?”

The worker pressed another button, this one causing panels to slide out of the walls, revealing clothing racks bearing loads of jumpsuits. Without further prompting, the possessed began taking them down and putting them on. The jumpsuits were color coded to match their ID tags, denoting their various roles in service of the UAC. Blue were custodial staff, Red were heavy-labor/maintenance and yellow where assistants to science staff.

For one observing these creatures for the first time, they might be surprised how well these ‘brain-dead shamblers’ cooperated in getting dressed. They would wait patiently holding open the suits for their less graceful fellows to fit their feet in, and then help zip them up. It was haltingly slow and their motions were awkward and stiff, but they got it done.

Some would even help adjust the front of their friends’ suits to make sure their breasts were properly fitted.

Once they were all done, the UAC worker pressed another button, banishing the clothes racks and causing a large counter-top to slide out of the wall with big screen. Trough-like depressions formed, and a series of hidden dispensers began spewing forth raw red meat. The meat piled up, big steaks and smaller chunks all mixing together in a half appetizing half disquieting slurry.

The Zombies were 100% enticed though, and quickly shambled over to enjoy their breakfast. Like a scene out of a classic cheesy zombie movie, they devoured the meat in front of them with feral abandon. Someone seeing this go on in front of them might begin to have second thoughts on how safe it was to have them working in the building.

Moaning, slovenly chewing and dribbling meat juices all down their fronts, they weren’t going to get any points for table manners. Occasionally they’d a chunk of meat would fall onto their jump suit, and their neighbor would pick it off and devour it. Some with preoccupied hands would just bend down and lick it off. This often lead to slight eating delays, as they playfully, by possessed standards, began to grope eachother in reciprocation.

Some others that had more developed friendships, as possessed had an uncanny ability to tell each-other apart, and would actually take the time to hand feed eachother, happily bonding over delicious meat. “Thank… you… frend…” “I like… help…”

Soon enough, the meat was devoured, and sprayers cleaned off the trough before it slid back into the wall. The UAC worker pressed one more button, deploying a hose from the wall.

“Alright, you had your fun guys. Now line up so I can clean you off before you drip meat juice everywhere.”

The possessed, slightly disappointed meat time was over, complied, lining up so nice man could clean them and they could be good workers. The water made them gasp and giggle stupidly. “OooH..! Wet…!”

They squirmed as the moderately high-pressure water rinsed off their (thankfully waterproof) jumpsuits and left them cleaned of meat debri. As it went on however, their playful antics from earlier and the cool refreshing water dripping from their bodies began to get them worked up. Some began openly groping themselves or rubbing up against one another.

“Hnnnn… hhnnnn! Neeeeeeed!” Moaned one, beginning to kiss the neck of her partner slowly.

Rolling his eyes from behind his suit’s visor, the UAC worker corrected the brazen zombies. “Hey, save it for later you guys! You’re shift starts in twenty minutes!”

The zombies paused, hiding their hands behind their back basfully, but still licked their lips at the sight of the human commanding them.

Posessed #15-b moved up closer. “Sorry for… naughty… Danyull…” #15-b had a gold star for social interaction on her badge, remembering names and genearlly acting as the “head” possessed for this section. “We naughty… you good…. feeeeed… wake us… niiice boooooyyyy….” She started drooling and rubbing her legs together, her lustful desires creeping in to overtake her higher thoughts, as few as they were.

Daniel backed up nervously. ‘Oh lord not again.’ He thought.

“H-hey! C-c’mon, I’m just doing my job. So let’s all just chill out and…”

#15-b grabbed his wrists. Her grip strong. Very strong. “Mmm… we still hungryyyyy…. wan’t meeaaaat~…”

THe other possessed took notice, the excitement spreading, and began to converge on poor Daniel. “Meeeeaaaaaaaaat~” The chorused.

Daniel panicked and slipped on the wet floor, falling on his back. Anyone familiar with zombie movies knew how much of a ‘death’ sentence that was.

#15-b giggled and began to pull at the hood of his suit, the sturdy material straining against her unrelenting strength. The seams split and the connecting threads held out for a few more seconds, before finally succumbing and splitting with a loud *rrrrip!*

Unmasked, Daniel squeaked nervously. Underneath all the padded hazmat bodyarmor, he was actually a pale, gangly, mousy lad. Only the punk kids and no-lifers got stuck underground herding the shamblers, and Daniel was definitely well within that venn diagram. Still, he liked his job enough, and after the initial creepo factor, found the possessed to be fairly pleasant company.

But unfortunately, at least once a week, they’d get worked up and randy enough to try and pull a swarming on him, and he’d really have no option but to take it. It’s not like he hadn’t been warned when he took the job, and he might have even had a minor ego trip about all these nubile flesh-walkers wanting his rod, but… it was a lot more intimidating in person, and a lot more crazy and exhausting than his fantasies had lead him to believe.

Still, his employee manual instructed him not to try and fight it when this happened.

He gulped nervously ad #15-b began to tear away the rest of his suit, reching behind his chin and leaving a perfect tear all the way down to his crotch. His rod was already erect, the Benedict, and #15-b drooled at the sight, the hot saliva dripping down onto him.

He made a plaintive sound in the back of his throat, and she paused, reaching over and gently touching his cheek, as though trying to comfort him and say it was gonna be okay. Then she pulled back and began to hungrily move closer to his meat.

As the others pulled closer, and his body was surrounded with yearning, hungry flesh, he heard one last thing from #15-b before the collective moaning drowned out the world.

“We loooove feeding time…..”