Thirst

ot as tall as the lurking flesh dealer hovering over the containment pod, Glabrx carried three times the muscle mass. A thousand times the combat experience.

More kills to his name than such an insect might even imagine.

More well-laid offspring the Necrimata could easily inject within Cenoid arthropod weak exoskeleton to ease his unexpected seeding frenzy in place of buying illicit goods.

Crossing thick arms over his expansive and vibrant chest, the warrior scowled. “Can it be drunk from the source? The human, no matter your restraints, that creature is trying to wriggle out of our contraption. Such poor behavior suggests potential resistance. A Hpin Biped would stand complacent as I implanted it with a Necrimata spawn. You,”—Three eyes blinked, their vibrant purple irises contracted in the clearest warning outside of the lingering secretion a bug could not taste—“could be easily implanted with a Necrimata spawn so I might be on my way.”

“Does not the hunter in you call for a challenge when you seed?” Unconcerned with a small show of disobedience by the human, the flesh dealer clasped his four long-fingered hands. “Where is the pleasure in complacent prey? As for the human’s squirming now, there is some soreness involved as physiology adapts. Its nipples are being overstimulated. The light suction and squeezing manipulation accelerate milk production. Such discomfort is transient and unimportant. Optimal outcome must be achieved and behavior of this sort best culled through direct handling by its owner at the time of milking. Training—”

There was a series of beeps interrupting the merchant. Mandibles clicking in delight, the merchant gestured to the screen. “Ahhh, a new scan screen shows sweet fluid accumulating in the mammary glands. For the right price, this slave could be conditioned to produce constantly to please you. And in answer to your question, it can be trained to take enjoyment from the process, whether manual or mechanical. Observe.”

The flesh dealer began tapping the controls. The appliance on the human’s breasts kicked into life, pulsating in ripples around the entirety of generous, caught tissue.

Staring through the barrier, Glabrx watched the machine knead the girl’s swollen mammaries, staring fascinated when the slave’s lips parted on an exhale.

It fogged the glass, ruining the visual of such sweet smelling prey.

More clicks, more turning of knobs. “It is only a matter of manipulating the correct nerves. At your whim, its pain can be urged into pleasure.” The tangy scent teasing Glabrx’s nasal receptors sweetened, the merchant eager to describe the wonderful aroma when the warrior sniffed again. “Examine the slit between its thighs. Its genitals, the human cunt, are the reason this mammal will suit you in ways other livestock in my Emporium cannot.”

A little pulse of the human’s muscles set the pink lips between its legs twitching. The interesting sight, that second lower mouth, grew… moist.

A bead of intoxicating dew.

Breath sandpaper rough, Glabrx grunted. Each of the six tentacles growing in pairs along his spine unfurled. The appendages waved, stretched, and pulsed, no longer possessing the cerulean shade of a calm Necrimata. From base to tip, expanding writhing limbs took on the purple then red hue of an excited predator ready to hunt… or fuck. “Explain what I am observing.”

The flesh dealer slithered closer, confident he’d hooked the attention of the warrior. “Unlike the single sex of a Necrimata, humans are either male or female. Displayed between its legs is the reason I know that out of all my wares, this female animal will give you the greatest satisfaction.” A knobby, gray finger tapped a small, hooded protrusion at the top of the female’s dampening slit. The captive jumped within its containment, squeaking out a note of obvious confusion. Even so, that heady aroma amplified, those fleshy lips growing pink and engorged. “Here is their sex organ, a channel of warm flesh that can self-lubricate in anticipation of mating. Imagine it, Great Glabrx, this hot, slippery flesh surrounding your seeding flange.”

From his spine, each tentacle reached beyond his massive arms and torso to sample the sweet place that now shined, pink and puffed.

And then he showed fanged teeth.

There it was, a tiny hole hidden between the outer lips. “It is too small.”

Mandibles extended in the Cenoid’s version of a grin. “This organ is designed to stretch if properly prepared. It could take the entirety of your flange with practice… kneading your wriggling flesh as its muscles spasm around you, taking your girth without damage to the host.”

As if to prove his word, the flesh dealer pressed the tip of his finger past the pulsating opening. The long digit was maneuvered all the way to his first knuckle, and then for good measure, the bulbous joint, one six times larger than the finger, popped past the stretched lower mouth.

All of that bulk sat in the squirming human. And it was squirming, fighting its restraints, throwing its head back and forth.

The show was intoxicating. The smell a heady drug.

“Remember, since capture, it has felt nothing but the suction of its mammary glands and mechanical maintenance of its feeding and waste extraction. Many months of sensory deprivation has reprogrammed the nerves, adjusted the mind, and created an ideal physicality for ownership. The human is eager for stimulus. Look, its reaction is one of pleasure. You can tell by the flush of its skin, also the chirp from its throat.” That finger pumped in and out, growing shiny. “Hear that song it sings? Beautiful, no?”

It was a temptation that Glabrx longed to experience—one that would cost a fortune with little return on investment if indulged in. “Once hatched, my spawn would devour this human’s guts in a matter of days. There would only be one worthy mating.”

“Aaaaaahhhhhaaa. That is the true beauty of why this specimen was set aside specifically for your needs.” Pulling his slimy, shined finger from the human’s mating recess, the flesh peddler demonstrated that the little hole went right back into shape, tight and small, and very, very slippery.

Mandibles clicked, the gray digit held up for his client’s investigation, he said, “The pH of her secretions is acidic enough to prevent full attachment so long as the spawn is removed and preserved within a reasonable time. You could seed her repeatedly: train the human female to perform to your liking. It will want you to seed her. She’ll beg for it.”

The tip of two bright crimson tentacles slipped and circled the merchant’s upheld finger. With each pass, a tingling sensation excited the feelers. There was something about that human’s juices that was absolutely delicious.

Trilling, the merchant asked. “Do you feel that? The acidity of its secretions increases your sensation. Imagine such bliss slathered over your mating flange. Human physiology can provide you with so much more than a simple vessel. Entertainment, pleasure, a pet to provide sweet milk at your whim…”

As far as Glabrx knew, no other Necrimata Warrior possessed so rare or reusable a vessel. If everything was true, great profit could be made selling his spawn back to the homeworld for training and service to the cause. If able to mate at a whim, his species would expand exponentially… others would desire a human. He could even rent out this pet for added compensation.

The use of human females could turn the tides of wars, populate worlds with workers. It might even have the proper genetics to enhance his spawn and produce powerful warriors.

And pleasure… writhing his flange in that tight, fleshy hole was a reward an honorable warrior of his rank deserved.