Vale’s First Brood
Part 1 – A Taste

When Fyacin had decided to take a detour on his way home due to some sort of political rally filling the main thoroughfare blocking his usual route, he hadn’t been thinking about much else other than getting a chance to take a hot bath and get out of the tight and stuffy button-down shirt he was forced to wear at the Raleigh Mining Corporation’s local office. The job was just like the many he’d had in his travels, basic secretarial work that numbed the mind and made him want to find the nearest singularity and throw himself in, but it was easy and allowed him to pull up roots whenever he wanted and seek a new place on another colony.  As long as there was a Raleigh Mining office, there was a quantum-entangled connection to their main data center, and he could perform his duties from wherever he was.

Like so many, he had found himself wandering from one colony to the next, not quite sure what he was seeking, but absolutely certain he’d know what it was when he found it. The need to explore, to find something new and exciting, was an impulse that had stayed within pretty much every species born out of the proteus plagues. Wanderlust, it seemed, was at the core of human genetics, and it wasn’t lost when humanity had become dozens of different species. That wanderlust was how Fyacin had ended up on a border colony called Dryad, in the main settlement of the same name, working for Raleigh Mining.

Even though the alley Fyacin found himself detouring through seemed a bit grimy and underused, he wasn’t worried about being assaulted or robbed. The local government was incredibly tough on any sort of street crime, though they certainly turned a blind eye to things like smuggling, drug dens and brothels. All they really concerned themselves with was making sure that you could get from one place to another without being worried you’d end up dead. A petty thug with a blaster who tried to mug someone in a quiet corner quickly found himself indentured and put to work in one of the massive farms that Dryad was known for.

The slender lion unbuttoned his shirt as he walked down the narrow alleyway, the bright purple sky a thin sliver of light three stories up. He pulled his deep red mane up into his much-preferred ponytail and mused on which eyeshadow he’d use tonight when he went out. He absolutely loved the nightlife on Dryad, which was why he’d stayed so long. He could dress however he wanted, make it hard to tell just what was beneath the billowing silken pants he wore, and nobody would give two shits whether he had a dick or not. He remembered the first few weeks he’d come to the colony, worried that someone would get angry at finding out that he wasn’t what they’d expected, but it had never happened. Male, female or anything in between, the prevailing attitude was ‘don’t be an asshole and you’re good’.

“Wonder if that lovely hybrid with the purple eyes will be around tonight,” Fyacin mused to himself as he walked. The alleyway really did seem quite unused, and he hoped it didn’t lead to a dead end or some sort of blocked passage. He grinned at the encounter with the hybrid the night before. That one had surprised him. They’d gotten hot and heavy and when he’d reached into the odd fox-cat’s jeans, he’d been surprised to find a vagina. Expectations shifted, and they’d had a lovely night.

All of a sudden, Fyacin went still, his senses on full alert. There was a near constant drone of a busy colony in the background, with dozens of different sounds that made up daily life, but something different had drawn his attention. His ears swiveled and turned, and he opened his mouth to draw in a deeper scent of what might be nearby. His eyes widened in surprise and he grinned when he heard the sounds of soft moaning and excited grunting. The scent of male arousal mixed with something quite alien that accompanied those sounds told the lion what was likely happening just a little ways down the alley, probably just past the next bend. Moving silently now, his curiosity piqued, he thought he might indulge his voyeuristic side and have a look at what was going on. He himself wasn’t beyond a bit of sex outdoors, and though the Dryad government disapproved of more flagrant public displays, finding a quiet, out of the way place was perfectly acceptable.

If he hadn’t elected to sneak up on the two, Fyacin’s entire life from that point forward would, most definitely, have been quite different. But instead, he managed to be quiet enough that when he crept around the next bend in the alley, he came across the two unsuspecting lovers with neither of them none the wiser. A broad grin curled the lion’s lips. He wasn’t going to watch for long. If they didn’t look dangerous, he might even make some noise and see what happened. He crept around the corner into a slightly wider section of the alley.  Either side of the dimly-lit space had a metal staircase leading upwards.  Fire escapes, of course, which explained why this open area was even here in the first place. Surprisingly, it was quite clean and free of trash, if still a bit grimy otherwise. He guessed that the cleaner bots came down here at least somewhat regularly, and had possibly been by recently. A gurgling sound caught his attention, and he looked toward the wall by one of the staircases.

The first sight he had was of someone standing nearly six feet tall with his back partially toward the corner Fyacin had just stepped around. They were solidly built, with a long rudder-like tail that waved lazily. Despite the dark gray fur that covered him rather than the usual browns, the lion had no doubt in his mind that he was looking at an otter. From the position of the second individual there, kneeling in front of him, the lion guessed that the otter was male. He was letting out pleased little grunts, and his voice was a husky sort of pleased rumble. “There we go, girl. Take them all, that’s right. Fuck, you’re loving this, aren’t you?  Hard as a fucking rock. Love it when they enjoy this.”

When Fyacin took a few more steps out so he could see what the girl in front of the otter looked like, the lion’s eyes went wide in utter shock.  He couldn’t quite understand what he was seeing. On her knees in front of the otter was a sandy-and-white furred feline -a lioness, actually, he realized- with darker red-brown hair that hung down past her shoulders. She was kneeling, her arms limp at her side, hands twitching. She was indeed quite hard, with a stiff humanoid shaft that was capped by a golden ring behind the glans with a tiny tag hanging from a PA piercing. Six small nipples were on her belly below two full and round breasts, each and every one of them stiff and red. What had Fyacin so confused and trying to parse what he was seeing was what the otter was doing to her.

Thick, glistening black tentacles, four of them, were wrapped around the feline’s head and held her face right up to the otter’s heavy sack, their tips intertwined. They held her still, twitching and squirming, ensuring that the feline couldn’t pull away. As the otter let out another pleased grunt, the feline moaned and gurgled, and Fyacin saw her neck swell.  As he watched, the subtle bulge of the feline’s stomach grew just a little more.  The otter was shoving something right down the girl’s throat. “Gonna give you a nice big clutch, kitten.”

Eggs? Is this guy forcing eggs down that cat’s throat? Fyacin asked himself.  If it had been anyone but the lion, the immediate reaction would be horror and disgust.  Someone else might have screamed or run away.  Fyacin’s first reaction wasn’t even a conscious one.  At the sight of something so strange, so alien, so obscene, he felt his own cock stiffening, the head pressing against the inside of his formal black slacks to form a tent.

The lioness’ eyes didn’t seem frightened or panicked. Indeed, they were a little glassy, as if she’d been drugged. She gurgled as another egg was forced down her throat, accompanied by another happy grunt from the otter. Fyacin, frozen still by the sight, felt his cock grow even harder as the otter reached down and petted the feline’s ears affectionately. He knew he should do something, but instead of calling out or running, he just watched, rapt with fascination as yet another egg was forced down the girl’s gullet.

The lion barely stifled his moans, not even daring to try and touch himself. Instead, he kept watching as more eggs were shoved down the feline’s throat.  Each time one made the girl’s throat bulge, she’d gurgle, and given how long the process was taking without her passing out, she must be able to breathe somehow. How would it feel to be the one kneeling there, helpless as some monster he’d thought was some every day otter wrapped those glistening, slick tentacles around his head and began to fill him.

“That’s right, Realis dear, just a few more. I bet you feel like you’re going to burst,” the otter growled, followed by another grunt and the slight bulge of the lioness’ throat.  Indeed, her stomach was lumpy and bulging to the point that Fyacin couldn’t understand why she wasn’t bursting. She had begun to moan a little, the sound more than a little pained, “One more, it’s all I got, just… one more...”  

The otter’s muscles seemed to flex and he rested his hands on the lioness’ head. With a growl of triumph he managed to push one last orb down into her stomach.  “There we go,” he murmured.  Strangely, he reached up to his own neck and tapped a spot at his collarbone three times in rapid succession.  Seconds later, Fyacin saw the lioness’ eyes roll up in her head and she slumped, her body fully limp. With a lewd slurping sound, the tentacles unwrapped themselves.  She fell away from him, and Fyacin saw a long, black organ slide out of her mouth, accompanied by two thin tendrils that had been buried in her nostrils. Seeming not to want the lioness injured, the otter guided her to the ground on her side.

Fyacin knew he had to go, he had to step away as quietly as he could, but just as he tensed and started to move, the otter spoke, and the words made a knot of fear form in the lion’s belly. “I wouldn’t. I just laid. I’d run you down in seconds, and we’re in a deep enough alley that I doubt you’d be heard.”  Fyacin froze, heart beating a rapid tattoo against his ribcage. It wasn’t often that he felt that sort of instinctive, icy terror, and its very unfamiliarity had him completely unable to make a move.

The otter turned to face him, and the predatory gleam in his amber-hued eyes was incongruous on what seemed to be an almost fatherly visage, complete with a pair of glasses perched on his broad muzzle. If he’d been thinking about it, Fyacin would have guessed that the gray-furred otter was in his early forties, but at the moment, all he could do was focus on those eyes. Eyes that moved from meeting the lion’s own to the obvious tent in his slacks and then back up. There was no way that the otter had missed the spot of dampness that had soaked through the fabric. That predatory look faded all of a sudden, and the otter barked a little laugh. “You don’t want to run though, do you? Please don’t. I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

Surprised by this sudden change in the otter’s demeanor and entire presence, Fyacin just sputtered, trying to formulate a response.  He’d finally gathered his thoughts enough when he saw that huge, slick black organ and the tentacles surrounding it begin to retract and twine together. Within the space of a few seconds, all that jutted from the otter’s sheath was a nearly normal lutrine penis, if quite large and made of nearly ebon-black flesh.  “Uh… how?” Fyacin asked, not sure himself what he was asking. With the fear of being noticed and the egg-laying complete, his erection had begun to diminish. He gestured at the lioness.  “Sh-she going to be o-okay?”

The otter looked down at the lioness and chuckled, “Oh yes. She will. I may be a monster of sorts, but I’m not an asshole. Okay, maybe a bit of an asshole, since I don’t usually tell them what they’re getting into. Come on, you might as well come closer. I don’t have any more eggs in me.”  There was a bead of oily black fluid gathered at the tip of his long, tapered shaft, but he paid it no heed. “Really.”

Fyacin eyed the otter for a while longer before he let out a sigh. He had no reason to trust the otter, especially given what he’d just watched. For all he knew, he’d be slumped next to the lioness -Realis was it?- in the near future. He felt his ears splay out in embarrassment as the erection returned in full force and the otter began to laugh. “Oh, you’re adorable, boy. I would love to feel your throat around my… fuck, I don’t know what to call it.  My dick?  You know, I never really thought about it.”

“Ovipostor,” Fyacin mumbled, and took a step toward the otter.

“Ehh, what?” the otter asked.

“It’s an ovipostor, I think,” Fyacin explained, moving a little closer. The otter’s penis really did look quite normal but for four thin lines down its sides, and he wouldn’t have seen them if he hadn’t been looking for them.

Another laugh, “Ovipostor then. Believe me, boy, you are my type. If I’d run into you before, you’d have gotten the same thing she just did. Come here. Let me get a good look at you. Despite the glasses, my eyesight is probably better than yours, even with how dark this little corner of the alley is.”

Fyacin finally closed the distance between himself and the otter, putting himself firmly within easy reach.  He shivered as the otter reached a hand up and touched his cheek gently, brushing away a stray lock of his hair.  The lion was both relieved and disappointed when that ebon shaft didn’t suddenly come to life and grab him. “How?” he repeated.  He gestured toward the unconscious lioness, then the otter’s dick, and then just said, “all of it, I guess.  How’s she going to be okay?  How’d this happen.  Hell, how’d you notice me.  I know I didn’t make a noise.”

The otter leaned against the wall of the alleyway and let out a soft huff. “Not even going to ask my name? No, I guess not, you’re a bit… excited. My name is Vale, and I… well, I guess I should tell you a few things. I have to figure out what to do with you after all. So, what’s your name?” He gestured to the bottom step of the staircase nearest him, and Fyacin took the offered seat.

Fyacin couldn’t believe how calm he was. He should be freaking out, he should be running or doing something. For all he knew, the lioness on the ground could be doomed, but Vale’s whole demeanor was putting him off-guard, and he suspected that, despite having no reason to be, the otter was being honest with him. “It’s Fyacin.”

Vale idly stroked his shaft, and a little bit more of that oily fluid seeped from the tip. “You know… there is something I’d like from you, if you’re game. While you help me, I’ll tell you my story.” He hefted the ebon shaft and grinned lewdly at Fyacin. “See, Realis there, she’ll be fine because the eggs are unfertilized.  They’ll break down after a few hours.  You have no idea how much I want to fertilize them. These things that have infested my insides, changed me, changed this.”  He stroked himself to punctuate his words. “They drive me to. It’s maddening. I can jerk off, and oh, it works to get rid of the pressure, but well, you know how it is, kitten. Nothing feels better than a warm, tight hole wrapped around my cock.  Or… a tongue.”

Fyacin’s gaze, focused on the thick shaft only a few feet in front of him, snapped up to meet the otter’s gaze. When the otter wordlessly crooked a finger at him, the lion found himself moving to his knees in front of the Vale.  His hands shook a little as he reached up to stroke the tapered shaft.  He imagined the thing splitting open, slick tentacles wrapping around behind his head and tugging him closer.  The ovipostor within pressing down his throat, breathing tubes snaking their way through his sinuses and down the back of his throat to his lungs. He let out a soft, low groan as his hand touched the otter’s cock. That oily slickness that coated the length was slippery and left a little dark smear on his pawpads. Soon, his other hand reached down to undo the top button of his slacks, releasing his own rigid spire.

“Fucking hell, Fyacin, you really aren’t afraid are you?  You like the idea that much?  Some of them get real excited when it’s happening, but part of that is the stuff that keeps them relaxed. But you, you’d let me anyway.”  He reached down and laid his hand on Fyacin’s head, then tugged him forward. “Get working with that mouth, hmm?  I haven’t had the pleasure of blowing this particular load in someone since… oh hell, two years?”

The firm command and the hand on his head, guiding him forward, had Fyacin opening his mouth and taking the tip of the otter’s cock in his mouth.  He was surprised that the fluid beaded there didn’t taste foul, despite the colour. Oily and slick, it tasted heavily of male musk, but was curiously sweet at the same time. Before long, he had wrapped his lips around the head and took as much of it in his muzzle as he could, with one hand hefting the heavy orbs within the furred sack beneath it and the other wrapped around the base.

Vale let out the deepest groan that Fyacin had ever heard, and then for a few moments remained silent, reveling in the glide of lips over sensitive flesh. “You are definitely a good little cocksucker, kitten,” he huffed, and soon he was using both hands to guide and direct the lion, fingers curling and gripping the reddish mane. “Wrap my tentacles ‘round your face. Shove my eggs down. I want to breed. They want to breed. Turn your pretty body into their breeding sack. But -ah, fuuuuck what the hell was that, kitten?-”

Fyacin, lost in the act of fellating this otter, this monster, just made a muted chuckling sound and did the thing with his tongue again before using it to explore the thin lines that went from the tip to the base of Vale’s cock. Every word that the otter spoke made his own cock throb, and so he soon found himself stroking his own hardness, the slick black substance a wonderful sort of hand-lube.

“Nngh, I can’t, you know. Do that. Just pump you full and leave you. Turn you into one… it’s one of the rules I have to, ah, follow,” Vale said, starting to rock his hips a little. “Fuck, this feels good. Still not enough…”  He tugged on Fyacin’s mane to pull him off, laughing when the lion made a little sound of protest. The sight of that leonine face, muzzle smeared with the oily black lube that he produced in this state, was a delight. The desire, the need in Fyacin’s expression was so plain that Vale paused. “You’d let me do it. You’d fucking let me fertilize my eggs.”

Fyacin’s ears went flat in embarrassment again, but he couldn’t deny Vale’s words. Before he could stop himself, he felt the words spilling out from him. “I move. Colony to colony. Looking for something. Needing something. I take lovers, I move when I get restless. And… I’m always hoping I’ll find something. Something like you. All those holos out there… Alien Breeding Crusade… Monster Fuckers… I mean, I paw off to them. My favourite are these video-only ones that are kind of grainy, like they’re on a hidden camera, they take place in a lab. The doctors are never shown, but there was this one with spiders and a purple-furred bat. They.. ate their way out of her. And I even wanted that. I wished it was real.”

Vale blinked, and then began to laugh, “Oh… oh that’s rich.  Oh my lord, Faren you fucking pervert. I bet the Benefactors let you make those things.”  He shook his head and let out a low moan, “That video was real, kitten. I’ve been there.”  He looked down to Fyacin, who had an expression of utter bafflement and amazement on his face. That look, and the still-rigid cock that stood proudly from its sheath, made another laugh come from the otter.  “Why don’t you bend over the steps, kitten. I wanna fuck you silly.”

Even if he had been surprised by the revelation, Fyacin didn’t waste a second. He turned around and let his slacks fall to the ground, baring his rump completely.  “Fuck, yes,” he intoned.  He knelt on the second step of the staircase and rested his elbows a few steps higher, gripping the edge in his still-slick hands.  He looked back at Vale and batted his eyes, “Tell me what you want.”

The otter grinned, and Fyacin shivered at the gleam that had returned to Vale’s expression. Predatory, hungry, needful.  He hefted the large, ebony shaft, and let out a low, animalistic growl. “Gonna imagine I just laid in you, kitten.”  When all Fyacin did in response was lift his tail high and wiggle his rump, Vale all but roared before surging forward, pressing the tip of his cock under the lion’s tail. He worked the tip in just a little, letting out a chuff of delight at the warm tightness.  Without any warning, he grabbed Fyacin’s hips and shoved forward.

The howl that spilled from Fyacin’s lips was surprised and pained, but underneath it was a note of desire and satisfaction as he felt the huge organ spread him open. He’d been with equines before, and though it wasn’t quite that thick, it still hurt. They had slowly worked themselves into him.  Vale was doing just what he’d said.  He was going to fuck Fyacin silly.  The ache of the penetration grew, but Vale didn’t stop pushing until the lip of his sheath kissed the stretched flesh of the lion’s tailring. “Twelve fucking inches, kitten. And you took it like a good little slut,”  Vale growled.  “You’re lucky I make my own lube.”

Fyacin just nodded, not quite able to form words. He’d seen the look of pure primal desire and predation in Vale’s eyes, and that look was seared into his consciousness.  The otter pulled back and slammed forward again, and Fyacin barely stifled another howl.  The angle of the rutting was pressing right down against his prostate through the thin flesh of his bowel wall, and along with the ache of that stretch and the roughness he felt a pulse of pleasure.

Vale hunched over the lion and growled in his ear as he began to fuck, hips slamming forward over and over. “Fertilize them. Give you my first brood in years. They’ll hatch. They’ll bury roots in your stomach.  Grow.  Every fucking day I’ll feed you cum, feed them cum. They’ll change you, alter you.  I’ll seal you up in a nest. Your stomach swollen, bloated.”  Every pump of the otter’s hips was accompanied by that heavy set of nuts slapping against Fyacin’s own. It was obvious that the otter wasn’t holding back, he wanted to get off, to blow his load as soon as he could.

The growled words, promises of the obscene changes he’d go through, and the rough and brutal fucking that made Fyacin’s tailhole ache, they all only served to excite him more. This was a monster fucking him. Telling him what it wanted to do. What it would do, given the chance. His cock throbbed, a line of clear fluid dribbling from the tip, brought forth by the aggressive stimulation of his prostate. He cried out wordlessly with each buck of the otter’s hips.  “Your cock changed. Always hard. Sick inside, feverish. Organs aside, changed. Body turned into my breeding sack. By the time the first of them starts stretching your dick, birthing, all you’ll be able to do is suck down my… ah.. .my cum… to feed my brood… it’s all you’ll want. The hurt, the stretching, clutch after clutch. All you’re good for now… ah… ah fuuuuuck.”  Vale gave two more rough, punishing bucks of his hips and began to shake. “Miiiine!” he hollered, his balls actually pulsing as he began to spray streamers of black, ropy alien semen into the pliant body beneath him.  Over and over, a torrent far greater than any one could expect.

Fyacin had turned his head, staring at the unconscious lioness, seeing the lumpy, swollen belly, wishing they were in him now, that everything Vale had growled was really going to happen. He hurt, more than he ever had, but oh, it felt so good.  The torrent of seed filling his bowel was hot, warming his insides, and he had no doubt that if he’d had eggs in his stomach, this would seal his fate despite the distance it would have to go.  The otter growled again, breath rapid and heavy, “fuck.  That was… that was amazing…”  Punctuating the statement, he gave a quick buck of his hips and tugged out of Fyacin.  Almost immediately, a gush of viscous black seed spilled from the lion before he could think to flex and try and stop.  “Fuck, that is a sight I haven’t seen before… I knew it was black, but seeing it drooling out of you, kitten?”

Fyacin couldn’t form words.  He just couldn’t do it. He didn’t even care that he hadn’t hit his own peak.  Not once had he ever shared his darkest fantasies with someone else, and here he had just had what really could happen, but Vale wasn’t allowed to give him. He could feel that heat inside him, and the mass of the alien seed that he had to concentrate very hard to keep within.  He rolled over and splayed his legs out, panting. His rear was ablaze with an ache he knew would take a while to fade, but he was grinning like an idiot.

Vale’s ebon shaft was seemingly shrinking, becoming even more like a normal lutrine dick, though still ebon.  When he noticed the expression on the lion’s face, he let out a deep belly laugh, “Fuck me, kitten, I don’t think I’ve ever seen that sort of expression on someone’s face before.”

“No?” Fyacin almost purred, and indeed, he was soon purring quite contentedly. 

Vale shook his head and took a seat next to him, flopping down hard enough to make the whole staircase shake. “I wasn’t exactly a heartthrob before I became this. Hell, I was a forty year virgin. I like who I am now though. Monster and all.”  He rested an arm over the lion’s shoulder and sighed. “I’m going to have to do some explaining with my handler. As to why someone out there remembers me clearly enough to name me.”

“Another one of the rules? How are you going to fix that?” Fyacin suddenly stretched out and let out a happy mewl, still purring.  He then made a face and winced, “How much cum was that, Vale? I can’t even move quickly without some gushing out.”

The otter chuckled and hugged Fyacin close. “A lot. Never thought to measure it.  But yeah, one of the rules. No creating breeding sacks everywhere I go. Make sure my conquests don’t remember. Don’t tell anyone. My handler, Faren, he gave me an implant that injects an amnesiac drug into my breathing tubes. Knocks ‘em out.”

“How long before you can… lay again?  Before it would be safe to… you know.  Fill me?” Fyacin asked, and it brought a grin to the otter’s face. 

Shaking his head and clucking his tongue, Vale answered, “Perverted little monster fucker, aren’t you?  Why didn’t you ever go find the Kresh?  They’d love you. You’d certainly get it with them. I’ve helped deliver condemned prisoners to them. You know, the ones that choose that over execution for their crimes.”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s one thing to fantasize. To hope and wish. But to actively go out and find it? It’s too much. But in the heat of the moment… if you could have, I would have let you,” Fyacin murmured.

“To answer the question.  Tomorrow.  You’ll be safe by morning.  You really want me to do that?”  When Fyacin nodded enthusiastically, Vale gave one last little barking laugh. “Come home with me. I’ll tell you my story. I guess I should have you close anyway. I need to ask Faren what to do about this. Shouldn’t really be a problem.” He stood up and went over to retrieve a pile of fabric against one of the walls. Fyacin watched, bemused, as the otter slipped on a black muscle shirt and a heavy utili-kilt.  When Vale held out a hand, the lion stood, making another face as he let loose another rush of the alien seed.  He was a mess.

“How the hell am I going to get home without someone noticing?” Fyacin muttered to himself and took the proffered hand.  He shrugged though, and let the otter lead him down the alley, back the way he came.