Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8796319.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Eridan_Ampora/Spinneret_Mindfang, Orphaner_Dualscar/Spinneret_Mindfang_
      (mention), Eridan_Ampora/Vriska_Serket_(mention)
  Character:
      Eridan_Ampora, Spinneret_Mindfang, Orphaner_Dualscar, Vriska_Serket
  Additional Tags:
      Femdom, Stuffing, Bulges_and_Nooks, Xeno, Dubious_Consent, Sexual
      Slavery, Light_Bondage, Age_Difference, Ancestors_(Homestuck),
      Overstimulation, Come_Inflation, Mind_Control, Multiple_Orgasms
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-12-09 Words: 6428
****** Try For Eight ******
by botgal
Summary
     Through a series of unmentioned misadventures, Eridan finds himself
     stuck in the a chapter of Alternia's ancient history.
     After being captured by a group of pirates, he finds himself face to
     face with none other than Marquise Spinneret Mindfang.
     And he's completely at her mercy.
     Now with a sequel!
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Of all the things Eridan could have had in his head at the moment, it was that
he blamed Sollux for this whole mess he was in. If he hadn't agreed to help him
out as a favor to Karkat, and some goading by his cerulean kismesis, he never
would have gotten mixed up in some bizarre paradox space bullshit that sent him
back to Alternia's past by way of some glowing computer component. Though the
yellow-blood was hardly responsible for the group of seafaring brigands
invading the port town he'd managed to make a niche for himself in until he was
either rescued or able to find his own way back, the blame still lay there for
him.
At the very least, being unbelievably angry at Sollux was better than being
scared out of his mind as he sat chained up in a slave's hold amongst a group
of other trolls who had been captured in the pirates' raid. The majority of
them were rust through olive bloods, with perhaps one or two indigos he could
see peppered in the mix. But he was the only one above the highest of the rest
of them, and the sole seadweller.
He didn't even know why these pirates thought it would be a good idea to take a
troll who could very well be aristocracy in his own right. He knew they must
have known his blood color, if not for his cape color , then at least for what
they had spilled. And he knew they must have spilled some. The disgusting
crusty feeling he'd had at the back of his neck when he had awoken, and the
dull throbbing he'd felt at the back of his head, let him know one of them must
have hit him hard enough with something to make him bleed. Even if he'd been
knocked unconscious by the blow without being able to tell for certain. He
wasn't even able to decide to dare probe the area to check the damage on it for
himself, with his hands chained down to the floor. He'd had to wait for some
lower crew member to come down and nervously check over all the new slaves.
He'd bared his teeth and flared his fins dangerously, but let them at least
near enough to use a rag and some water to wash away the blood before vanishing
abovedecks again.
As he sat lost in thoughts of what might become of him volleying off of his
anger at his present situation, he found his own train of thought interrupted
when he heard the door open at the opposite side of the room. All the gentle
whispers and soft crying of the rest of them hushed as whoever it was walked
into the hold. Boots tapping smartly against the wood with each slow, measured
step.
Eridan resolutely decided not to crane his neck to see whoever it was that had
arrived. He was a sea dweller, god damn it, a violet blood who had been taken
and treated like some god damned low blood and he would not stand for it.
Whoever the hell this was that had dared to treat Eridan Ampora thusly, he
wouldn't even dignify their presence with so much as a fucking acknowledgment
that they had entered the same room as a violet blood like himself.
That is, until he found that very person stopping their steady pacing right in
front of him. The rust and bronze slaves on either side of him whimpered and
scrunched in on themselves as if to try and spare themselves whatever had drawn
the pirate to stand right in front of him.
The first thing he caught sight of was a pair of knee-high boots, a color he
registered only as bright mutant red because of the eventual reveal of his
friend Karkat's blood. Not that he could have ever said such a thing in this
place, for obvious reasons. Despite his earlier resolve not to acknowledge
whoever this was, he couldn't help himself as he raised his head, following the
tall, voluptuous form coated by a cerulean longcoat and shaped by a darker
colored corset, up over the slope of the underside of her bosom, until they
eventually landed upon a set of smirking lips with two neat, needle-sharp fangs
poking out from between them, and eyes sharp as daggers gazing down upon him.
Mindfang . The name from Vriska's journals blared with unnecessary intensity in
his mind. Like he fucking needed that mental announcement, thank you.
“Well, well, well. Look at what little fish my men have hauled up on my ship.”
She smirked, and a hand came up and caught his raised chin before he could
react, pinching either side of his face before he could so much as bare his
teeth and preventing him from doing so. “A little noble-blood all cloaked in
his color and jewels.” Her voice was smooth and rich, holding what he
recognized to be a trace of underlying venom. Like a hiss-beast curled up under
a bush of perfume scented flowers. The sharpness of her painted claws traced
over his soft cheek, making him close his eye in an instinctual desire to avoid
it. “And just what would a little noble like you have been doing in a place
like where we found you, wiggler?”
“This 'wwiggler's' name is Eridan. And I was mindin my owwn fuckin business
until you an your ship a bilge-rats came ashore,” he hissed back, glaring up at
her defiantly. He expected anger, but all he got was an infuriating smirk.
Almost familiar in how the corner of her lip curved up mockingly.
“Cocky little fish, aren't we? Such a sharp tongue we have on us.”
“An my teeth are even sharper,” he warned lowly. His fins were flared out far
as they could manage in a threat display, a hiss leaking out from his lips even
as he spoke. All she did was smirk at him. There was something glinting in her
eye, something that he didn't like in the slightest.
Something which was quickly proven to be quite reasonable, as the very moment
after that thought crossed his pan, her hand lashed out and grabbed hold of one
of his elegantly curving horns. He let out a sharp cry of indignation and
anger, a demand for her to release him right this instant ready to leap off of
his tongue.
Then her fingers pressed  just right  into the curve of his horns, and he went
limp . It was like she had flipped the switch to his whole body and all of his
muscles just decided to clock out right there. Well, time to close up shop,
boys, no reason for us to work anymore. Leaving him nearly hanging by the horn
she held as she laughed above him. God damn fucking piece of shit submission
reflex. Out of all the great rage he felt towards Mindfang at that moment, the
one thing he found himself able to focus on within the sea of platonic hatred
in his pan was the fact that she was treading on territory only a moirail
should be able to access; something she did so easily and just to shut him up.
Not to mention it worked so damn  well . He was completely still and vulnerable
in her grasp. Were he to look up he would see a twinkle in her eye that would
be rather unnerving to him.
“Look at the little wiggler we have here. All still and quiet like a good
little thing should be.” She snickered at him, and if he weren't so god damn
helpless right now he would sorely love to lunge up and tear out her throat
with his shark-like teeth. God damn everything he would!
While he raged at her within his mind, he barely noticed her stooping herself
down, until he felt his wrists being freed from the shackles, heard them clank
down to the floor. She stood up with him, holding on to his horn still, but
also wrapping her other arm around his body and holding him against her side as
she left the slaves' hold with him in her arms. Leaving him dumbfounded as she
carried him along. What in the hell was she doing now? He couldn't so much as
wiggle with her holding him like this, and all he could do was hang as she
carried him along the wood lined halls, past what he assumed to be crew members
with curious expression, and at last to a large wooden door.
The inside was obviously the captains' quarters now that he was here. He could
spot a desk full of maps in one corner, some shelves with books and scrolls, a
recuperacoon in one corner, and a conc- no, a bed, it was a god damn bed no
matter what fucking overconvoluted turn of phrase the land dwellers used. It
was to this last piece of furniture that she dragged him over to, dropping him
onto it as she finally released his horn. He tingled as the feeling slowly
leaked back into his muscles, followed not long after by his anger.
“Let's get a few things straight here, wiggler,” Mindfang interrupted his
growing anger with her smooth voice. “This is my ship, and that means I'm in
charge. In charge of my men, the ship itself, and all the slaves that I own.
All of it obeys my every word, whether they want to or not.”
“An wwho the hell evver said I wwas yours?” he growled as his mouth started
coming back around.
“I did.” She smirked, and he honest to god wanted to murder her right there.
Her grabbing him again by the horn put a stop to that train of thought, though,
and she leaned over him. “And I can tell already that you're going to be a
wiggler that has trouble taking orders, won't you? Don't you worry, though,
we'll get that straightened out of you nice and quick, won't we?” Her free hand
rested at the front of his shirt, just over his symbol emblazoned in his color
against the black. He could see a blue circle with her symbol in the center
appear on her forehead, and immediately he braced himself mentally.
He could feel the push against his pan from her. Give in let me in give in let
me in give in. Just the same as Vriska. It was difficult for highbloods to be
taken by psychic assaults, as he'd proven time and time again to his kismesis
when she had attempted in the past. She'd never gotten him yet. But Mindfang
was no six sweep old who had to push to take control of a bronze blood. The
force she put against his pan was mighty, yet snake like, wiggling over and
around, feeling out weak spots and the littlest holes she could slip into. But
she still couldn't get in, not on him. That didn't seem to disenhearten her,
though. Oh no, she actually looked somewhat excited at the prospect. He could
fight back. He could give her a proper game.
“Not going to let me into your pan, then? Can't do this the easy way, little
wiggler? So be it.” Her free hand slid down the front of his shirt, confusing
him slightly as she felt her way down the fabric, until her palm brushed down
over the front of his pants and alarm bells rang left and right in his head. A
strangled sort of noise bubbled up in his throat as she began to stroke him
though the garment, chuckling as she felt something shift under her
ministrations. “So eager, boy. What's wrong? Never been touched by anything but
your own little stubs?”
This was a falsity, he would tell her if he had the ability to talk at the
moment. He and Vriska had done their fair share of groping in their
kismesitude. Never anything under clothes, though, and always in-between grabs
hard enough to bruise and kisses filled with teeth that cut one anothers' lips.
Those were nothing like what was happening here, with her fingers gently
kneading his front, sliding over placed mostly untouched by all but himself. He
gasped as he felt something else stir, still in his sheathe, but awakening,
interested. Her expression was infuriating, but he was mostly distracted by
what she was making him feel with her touches. Slow, gentle, enticing. His
breathing shuddered and hitched as she patiently urged him on, until he felt a
great pressure unsheathe and he realized with humiliation that his bulge was
now pressing against the front of his pants.
She laughed aloud now, and wasted no time in slipping her hand down into his
pants, grabbing firm hold of the appendage. He  chirred  deep in the back of
his throat, now that she was most definitely holding in her grasp something
untouched by any hand but his own. He face came closer to him, and he felt
himself being laid on his back on the bed, and soon felt a pair of lips, warmer
somewhat than his own skin, press against his neck. A moan vibrated his throat
now, feeling her kiss at his exposed neck and along his gills while she worked
at his bulge. Her fingers worked further down past it now, letting it curl
around her wrist desperately as she slipped a finger into his nook. A gasp
shook his whole body when he felt the intrusion, he wanted so badly to squirm,
to escape, to encourage, to do anything but just have that lukewarm digit sit
still in there. Another quickly joined it, and he whined when she crooked them
both inside of him. God, he'd touched himself before, but she was warmer than
him, even if not by much.
Her heat was like Vriska but not, and Vriska had  never  touched him like this
before. He didn't even realize she had let go of his horn and that he was now
writhing under her touch, moans slipping wantonly out of him as she kept up her
attentions at his neck and played with his nook and bulge.
This was all so strange. So new and unfelt before, and so undeniably  red . It
felt like Vriska, but there was none of the exciting pain of pitch. No clawing
or biting or anything. If anything, she was being  careful  with him. Only the
blunt edges of her fangs brushed his gill slits, and her claws never so much as
nicked him, inside or out.
Her hands began to move faster, her kisses grew more furious, and he grabbed
the fabric of her coat in his claws and squirmed into her. Encouraging her and
oh god  yes , right there don't stop don't stop, curl your fingers  just like
that  and  oh god!
 His eyes flew open as he came, soaking his pants and her hand in genetic
material as he let out a strangled cry. His nook and bulge both tensed around
her hand as he moaned for her, until his body finally relaxed and he fell back
against the bed, breathing heavy.
“Good boy~” he heard a teasing voice say above him. “What was it now? Eridan?”
He tried to glare up at her, but something slipped into his head and suddenly
he realized something was wrong. “Such a good boy you are.” Mindfang wiped her
hand on the sheets at the edge of the bed, looking like purr-beast who was just
about to eat a feather-beast. “But you've made such a mess of your clothes. Why
don't you get yourself out of those?”
 His first thought was to tell her she could stick it up her waste chute, and
that she was the one who had caused this.
 But his first move was to sit up and start working at the fastenings of his
cape.
 It was with a sick sense of revelation that he realized she had taken control
of him with her mind. Had she planned this? Weaken his pan with sexual
temptation, then swoop in and claim control when the moment was right? Whatever
it was, it seemed to be what she was doing now. His cape was the first to go,
then his shirt, shoes, socks, ruined pants, his rings slipped off slowly and
dropped to the floor one by one, until his underwear was dropped to the floor
all the same, and he was left bare before her. His glasses were left alone,
though.
“Good boy,” he heard her behind him. He could hear the rustling of clothes, and
when he was made to turn around, he could see that she was free of her coat and
hat, leaving her in nothing but her corset, skirts, and boots. “Now, why don't
you help me out of mine?”
 He had no choice in her request, since it very clearly wasn't, and he was soon
kneeling on the bed next to her, arms reached around and his chin resting
docilely atop her shoulder as his hands worked at the lacings of her corset. He
undid it slowly, at the pace set by her control, string by string being
loosened with tantalizing slowness. Her hands traced his violet grubscars and
the gills along the sides of his chest while he worked, sending shivers up his
spine, until at last the garment he was working at fell loose, and he was
allowed to back out of the embrace. He was made to take the mutant red boots
off before working on her skirt, forced onto the floor to slip them off one by
one, even making his head dip down to kiss the top of each newly bared foot
once each boot was slipped away. She must have grown impatient by the time she
made him take to her skirts, because she made him act much more roughly with
them. Her underwear, though, she grinned mischievously as she made him pull
those off of her with his teeth, lifting her hips to help him accomplish this.
“Such an obedient little thing you are, boy. You're doing wonderfully.” He
hated her for forcing this control onto him, and he hated himself for the
little whine that escaped in spite of himself as she stroked her hand along
under his chin. He could see Mindfang grab for a piece of rope she had produced
from her modus, and felt it being wrapped firmly around his wrists. Damn, it
was some strong stuff, he could feel already. Even a seadweller like him
wouldn't be able to break it with just his strength alone. “Now, let's move on,
shall we, wiggler?”
 She forced him forward with her mind, until he was kneeling on the bed with
his face flush up against her chest, forcing his mouth open as it pressed
against one of her full breasts. Violet dusted his cheeks as she forced his
mouth to suck on it, from both what he was doing and the fact that she was
playing with his bulge again as she made him do so. She smirked and moaned
while she forced him to pleasure her, soliciting sounds of arousal from himself
as well from her touches. She kept playing with him even as she pushed him back
so she could look him straight in his glazy eyes.
“I'll tell you this once, boy. If I feel any teeth in me, you're going to
regret the day you crawled out of the caverns.” He was confused by the threat,
until he felt himself pressed flush up against her breast, and his pan free
from that weighty press that she used to control him. For half a second, he
considered throwing it all to hell and doing it regardless, damn the
consequences. But then she stroked along his bulge again and he shuddered. Damn
it, why did that have to feel so good and oh god yes right there... “Go on, or
you won't be getting any more of that.”
 A needy, embarrassing whine escaped him, and he complied a bit too eagerly for
his seadweller pride to be pleased by. Eridan pressed his open mouth against
her breast with a moan that send gentle vibrations over her flesh, drawing a
pleased hum from her. He sucked and kissed and licked along her skin, growing
deeper and more needy the more she stroked his bulge. He could feel his legs
shaking again as he grew closer, needing more stimulation from her, which she
gladly delivered as he increased his attentions to her breasts. At last, he
keened sharply and felt himself come again, spilling violet over his thighs and
onto one of her legs. He panted while his forehead rested on her shoulder, his
glasses half askew and fogged up, which was why he didn't mind quite so much
when she finally took them off of him and placed them elsewhere.
 He felt confusion when she grabbed hold of his bound wrists while he was still
trying to recover, only for it to turn into agitation when he felt them lifted
up over his head, held to the headboard of the bed while she tied them firmly
in place to hold him there.
“Wwait, wwhat are you-” She pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him.
“Not now, boy.” The tone was one he knew from Vriska, sounded sweet, but he
knew danger lie beneath. God fucking damn it, why did she have to keep making
him think of Vriska?! As if he wasn't already confused enough without her
blatant red solicitations mixing and conflicting with his deeply ingrained
sensations of black in anything related to his own pirate enemy.
 She finished fixing his hands up above him, and moved further down the bed,
until she was right beneath him. His breath hitched sharply when he realized
she was pulling his legs up so they were around her. He only now realized that
her bulge had come unsheathed during the events that had been taking place, and
his blood-pusher thudded with something close to fear inside his chest. He was
fairly proud of himself, his regal violet bulge with its lovely ridges and many
little tines along that were meant to bring pleasure to whomever it was he
decided to enter concupiscient relations with. But Mindfang, oh fucking lord.
She was a fully grown troll, not only did her body overshadow his frame that
was tall for his age, her bulge was almost downright terrifying compared to
him. To a young troll who had yet to molt quite that far, her cerulean tendril
was positively massive, all girth and length with ridges running all along it.
“Wwwwait,” Eridan managed, his accent combining with a stutter turning into a
long, almost ridiculous sounding line of trembling sound. “Y-you can't be
fuckin serious. That thing is too fuckin big, it'll nevver-”
“Oh yes it can,” Mindfang purred right back, slicking her bulge up along his
nook and bulge in just the way to make him throw back his head and let off a
high pitched squeal. “And it will. You're plenty prepared already, anyway, and
I'm sick of waiting. Just don't tense up. And enjoy.” She moved over him,
slipping her hands under his thighs and letting her bulge play with his.
“N-no! I mean, ffu- you can't! God, please please don't you're gonna- OH FUCK!”
His pitiful string of begging cut off with a sharp expletive and a keening cry
when the quickly pressed a few inches of herself into him. Oh god, he could
feel her inside, all those ridges on that monstrous thing were just running all
along inside him and against his nook and oh fuck yes, right there!
Mindfang smirked as she watched his panic turn into pleasure, she was making
him positively melt as she pushed into him, and she was barely even halfway. He
moaned unabashedly, now shifting his hips up against her, encouraging her for
more and more, until she was pressed all the way inside of him, the tip of her
bulge pressed right up against his seed flap. The wiggler cursed and whined
under her, moving his hips, begging her with his body to move inside that
tight, cool nook of his.
That, she was only too happy to comply with.
He nearly  shrieked  with pleasure when she slid most of the way back out of
him, the ridges of her bulge pulling against his nook with every inch she took
out, then immediately slammed right back in. She let out a hiss of her own,
feeling that nook press around her, and her eyes turned predatory. She set up a
measured pace, controlling her hips so that each thrust pressed her back up
into him forcefully. He was completely gone now, all that former seadweller
pride he had shown her when she laid eyes on him reduced to crying for more.
Her eyes fixated on his face as he squirmed under her, an odd expression
crossing hers as she watched his violet flushing features.
“A-ahhh!” He whined sharply as he felt her bulge hit a spot that made body arch
up off of the bed, making his whole body stiffen with need before returning
right to writhing against her. “I, oh god, please! There! Right there! Please!
More! Fucking more!” He was begging for her unabashedly now, his body's needs
overtaking his mind's proudness. So much so that he wasn't even embarrassed to
hear himself cry out needily when she did it only once more, before stopping
altogether and pressing her hips firmly to his, letting her bulge play within
him.
“Say my name, wiggler!” She hissed loudly, her chest heaving from both the
exertion she had been putting into slamming her hips against him, and from her
own pleasured gasps as she felt the shivers wracking through her body while her
bulge still writhed inside of him. “Say it!”
“I-I, ah! M-mindfa-”
“Aranea!” She barked at him, hitching her hips to draw another whine from him.
“Call me Aranea!” Were he in any other mindset, he would have been baffled at
the thought of Spinneret Mindfang having another name, much less demanding he
call her that instead, but there was no room for that in his pan at the moment.
He just needed this, he was willing to do just about anything. So he threw back
his head with violet-tinted tears in his eyes as he tried to force his hips
against hers.
“Aranea! Please Aranea! God fucking damn it just please fuck me, Aranea!” That
seemed to be all she needed. With what could only be described as a snarl, she
started to ram into him with reckless abandon. So forceful and rough that even
without her using her claws or any means to hurt him that it straddled the
border between red and pitch. He let himself go with hearty cries, his wrists
pulling at the ropes holding his hands trapped as he hitched his legs around
her, crying out his loudest and moaning her name in between ragged gasps for
breath. His bonebulge finally managed to find what little of hers that wasn't
stuffed into him, wrapping around the base and pulling desperately around it as
he begged breathlessly for more of her. He felt her bulge inside of him,
hitting that sensitive spot again and again.
And then her whole body tensed as she slammed into him one last time, her bulge
hitting it hard enough to trigger his seedflap to open, and she came with a
mighty shudder, pressing deeply into him as she could as she let her genetic
material gush into him. His mouth flew open in a silent scream as his own
orgasm came as she spilled herself out, his own violet material staining their
abdomens as it lay trapped between their bodies.
With a mighty shudder he let himself fall back onto the bed, chest heaving as
his whole body was left trembling. Good god. That was... incredible. Forget
what she'd done to him with just her hand, he felt as if he'd been run over by
a freight train, if those were a thing that existed in Alternia.
He felt his breath hitch and his legs quiver when she extracted herself from
him, her bulge slipping out from the stimulated, sensitive walls of his nook.
She smirked over him, looking hardly as if she were out of breath at all.
“Look at you now, little wiggler. Feeling like a man now, hm, Eridan?” He
chirred quite against his will in hearing his name in that tone. God, it was
too much like that horribly aggravating tone that Vriska tried to use when she
wanted to rile him up. And it was too much for him right now, when his head was
still flip flopping between red and black over this whole affair. Mindfang
(Aranea, was that what she'd demanded he call her?) smirked down at him, a
quiet chuckle leaving her lips. “I thought so. You're such an eager little
thing, aren't you? All that and you still want more.” He hardly had a mind to
realize what she was talking about, until she took his breath away by stroking
her fingertip up the length of his still very much unsheathed bulge. It eagerly
curled around her fingers, filling him with sensations again as she let it curl
and slip between her fingers in search of stimulation. “I guess I have to hand
it to you seadwellers. You do have stamina, at least.”
“Fffuck... you,” he managed breathlessly, nearly forcing it out just so he
could have a comeback to her comment. All she did was flash her fangs at him,
and all of a sudden that ridged bulge was wrapped around his own, and he threw
his head back with his teeth digging into his lip hard enough to bleed.
“I think I would say it's the opposite, boy,” she teased. She moaned
contentedly as she let her bulge rub against and around Eridan's, his own
answering desperately in kind. She moved both their bulges around, drawing more
and more sounds from him and making him lose himself against in the fuzzy haze
of arousal.
“Oh god... oh god oh fuck,” he hissed, thrashing his bulge in the grasp of
hers.
Slowly, smirking, she guided his bulge as she rubbed around it, slowly curling
it around and under him, carefully directing it where she wanted it to go.
Before he got so much of an inkling as to what she was doing, she thrust her
bulge forward, forcing both her bulge and his into his nook.
He screamed openly this time, feeling his sensitive nook stuffed even more than
before, now with both her bulge and his own stuffed into him. He felt so full,
with their bulges and the still unreleased genetic material trapped up inside
of him still, it was almost painful.
“Fuckin... fuck!Take it out! Fuckin take it out! It's too much, I can't- fuck!”
He gasped when she moved their bulges, mouth hanging open as a line of drool
started to fall down the edge of his mouth. His eyes nearly rolled back into
his head as she slid their bulges in and out of him, his curses and begging
quickly reduced to little more than chirps and moans.
“Come on now, wiggler,” Mindfang smirked breathlessly. “You can do this. You're
a strong little violet blood. Don't tell me such a noble blood can't even take
this much.” She moaned herself as she felt her bulge being pressed even tighter
than before. Even with the increasingly restricting tightness, she was going
even harder and faster than she had when it was just hers inside of him. She
moaned and gasped as she took him harder and harder, while he was reduced to a
whining, crying mess of pleasure and pleading.
 She came inside of him again, nearly forcing his seedflap open and spilling
more of her material into him, not stopping her moving until he was forced to
take in his own as well as she made him come inside himself.
 It was difficult for Eridan to keep track of much after that. It was all so
much of a haze. He was fairly certain she untied his hands from the bedpost at
one point, because he found himself with his hands cinched behind his back
instead, being forced onto his front with his teeth biting holes in the
bedsheets while she pounded him from behind, having forced his bulge into her
nook, only to pull his out just before she came while she let herself release
into him again.
 Then he was half hanging backwards over the bed, her gripping his thighs and
forcing her bulge into him in a hard pistoning motion while his horns scraped
and braced in a painful-pleasure haze against the floorboards.
 Then he felt his horns being soothed by her tongue as she held him in her lap
while she sat, her bulge squirming leisurely in his overstuffed nook while she
forced his bulge into himself again She was obviously reveling in his pleasured
sounds while he was nearly quite literally crying from overstimulation of his
bulge and nook. She even kissed him, pulling his tongue from his own mouth to
suck on it until she forced him full of yet more material.
 Until, at last, after she had lain back down and forced him to continue
sitting on her with his bulge and hers still stuffed up into him, he just
couldn't take it anymore. Some last bit of adrenaline inside of him just forced
his body into overdrive. Just moaning and begging as he rode both of their
bulges, pushing off with shaking thighs only to forcefully drop himself back
down and spear himself on them yet again, listening to her breathless moans as
she watched him with an infuriatingly pleased look in her eye. She came again
inside of him, and that was all he needed for one last release before his whole
body went limp once more, and he fell sideways off of her.
 Eridan curled up around his own body, tears of pleasure staining his cheeks
and drool dripping down his chin. God, he felt so stuffed with genetic material
he felt like he was going to burst, she had never let him expel any of it even
once. His gut distended from his thin frame, even the slightest bit of shifting
made him whine with it.
“B... bucket... please,” he begged breathlessly, long past the point of caring
for if he was begging her or not.
“Not yet, boy,” Mindfang admonished. “Just look at the mess you've made of me.”
He managed to take a look at her, and saw she was indeed stained with material,
both his and hers. “You think I'll let you end things when you've left such a
mess of me? You don't get a bucket until you've cleaned all of this up.” She
grabbed him by the chin and forced him up, much to the displeasure he showed
with a sharp whine, and forced him to her abdomen. “Now, lick it all clean. And
you don't get a bucket until it's all gone. Clear?”
 He was so desperate by this point he didn't argue at all. He went to work as
best as he could with the discomfort his overstuffed genesack gave him. He
lapped up every trace of violet and blue that clung to her, barely even able to
cringe as he tasted his own material on his tongue. She forced him to stay down
when he got to cleaning her inner thighs, even forcing him to lick out her nook
while letting her bulge curl around and stain cerulean the shock of violet in
his hair, and then just made him take her bulge into his mouth and suck on it
until she came again, when his mouth was full of even more material which she
made him swallow.
 Still, she kept her word. When he had licked her clean of all their material,
she decaptchalouged a bucket from her modus, and even held him steady over it
while she forced her fingers up his nook to help trigger him to release it.
 His whole body shook with relief, and he nearly started crying as he at last
felt all the material flood from his body, overflowing the bucket with how much
she had forced him to take, until he lay limp against her while he panted with
exhaustion.
“Hmhm~ If I didn't know any better, wiggler, I would think you just came again,
emptying all of that out of you,” she chuckled. “It's a good thing you didn't,
though. Otherwise you would have reset my counter. Then we would have had to
make you come seven more times all over again.”
 Seven more?... Oh god, had she forced him to do that so many times just so she
could make him come eight times? Fucking Vriska and her ancestor and their
fucking fetish with that fucking number... Oh hell, he was too exhausted to
even be too angry about it all. He just wanted to curl up in a coon full of
slime and sleep for a week.
 Thankfully, it seemed she was letting him do just that. Once she unwound the
ropes from around his wrists, she actually picked him up off the bed and
carried him over to her recuperacoon, sliding him and his limp body into the
sopor. He hardly cared what she did after that, he was out like a light in a
minute, he was so exhausted.
 Mindfang, for her part, watched the boy as he fell asleep in the slime, arms
crossed over her chest while she observed him nestling back into the coon.
 Without those stupid glasses he'd been wearing earlier, he looked so much like
another young violet she'd known long ago. One whose very first time she'd also
taken, though he had also taken hers in turn, and they were both the same age.
That had been something red long time ago, they had both thought, but no
longer. Now it was a comfortable blackness, after they had drifted away form
that childish fancy. This one, though...
 A gentler sort of smile crossed her lips, and she stroked a hand between those
lightning curve horns of his.
 Perhaps this one held some red promise she could keep.
 
End Notes
     Shamelessly inserts hints to my Vriska/Eridan and Mindfang/Dualscar
     ships.
     *shrugs*
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