Vendrik grumbled to himself as he got out of the transport. After hours of being trapped inside the small ship, emerging into the light of day felt like being born again. The cramped interior of the shuttle had grown rather stale, stinking of sweat and the musky arousal of multiple different species. They had been stuck in a holding pattern for hours thanks to a communications mixup and some of his team had thought it was a good idea to pass the time with an impromptu orgy, which they had all regretted when the air filtration unit on their battered old transport stopped working, leaving them stewing in the musk of their exertions for the past two hours.

But they were finally here, for what it mattered. Vendrik groaned and stretched, the warm sun falling on his plates. He was a turian, male, youthful. His plates were a soft grey color, his colony markings neon blue, which complimented his eyes and stood out brightly in the sunlight. He was lean of build, more agile than strong but with a wiry core that could surprise people, which was good considering his profession. Like the rest of his team, he stood naked despite the ground vehicle traffic driving past a few meters away. Given the heat he would be very surprised if they were the only ones going naked today.

That or that this was such a backwater that civilized standards of dress were below the priority line. It wasn't exactly a glamorous gig, but it was something, and when you were a c-list combat team, you took the jobs that were offered, especially if the event was willing to comp your travel expenses.

The colony they were currently standing on was a middle of nowhere rock which was notably on the arid side of habitable. A few generations into major colonization it might really be someplace in a few hundred years, but right now was just another dustball without much to its name. A few major cities stretched across one of the continents, more were being planned, but life was a little too hard to eke out here to attract most colony hopefuls who were racing to find new homes on the frontier.

"Not much to look at." A human voice behind him said flatly. The voice's owner walked up beside Vendrik, looking up at the stadium in front of them, squinting against the glare. The human had light brown hair and matching eyes, his bare skin was well tanned from the sun of a dozen worlds. Like the rest of them, Eric spent most of his life nearly nude. Shipboard dress code was bare skin for convenience's sake, the fighting gear they wore for practice and live matches was little more than straps and a few pieces of equipment, and they often went bare to events as well. Fewer items to keep track of, and the brash showmanship of strutting around naked was expected of their line of work.

"They're willing to pay, does anything else really matter?" A quick voice responded. Meloran was a salarian, skin a blend of red and creamy white. His eyes rapidly flicked over the building in front of them, and Vendrik had the feeling that Meloran didn't disagree with the human's assessment.

"Don't let the locals hear you talking like that." A deeper, flanged voice said. Favius was the biggest of them, a turian juggernaut if ever there'd been one. Stocky and powerful, he stood half a head higher than Vendrik himself. His dark blue plates and golden marks gave him a noble air and he carried himself like the scion of a respected dynasty. Vendrik always wondered what caused him to end up the nominal captain of an unknown little arena team.

The true monster of the team was the last to clamber out of the transport. Grax was a krogan, big by comparison but fairly young and hot headed for it. Possessing the natural confidence bordering on arrogance of any younger krogan, he was of the mind that a well shaped crest and a heavy quad would get him through any door in the galaxy. For that though, his sheer enthusiasm and skill in brutal point blank fighting often made him a crowd favorite. "So long as I get paid and get to dump my quad I don't give a damn how ugly it is." He grunted, brown plates bare under the harsh sky.

Meloran rolled his eyes in exasperation and trotted off towards the stadium, having been standing still too long for his liking. Favius shook his head and strode forwards, giving the salarian a light slap on the rump which made the twitchy male drop back behind Favius, though still obviously wishing things were moving faster.

"The event won't start any sooner if we rush in." Vendrik pointed out, giving an amused sidelong glance to his teammate.

"At least we'll be in out of the sun." The russet male shot back, which was hard to argue with.

While they had no official leader, Favius was the face of the group. An imposing presence, handsome, skilled at negotiating, he was the one who often secured gigs and negotiated payments. He naturally fit the role of the team leader so people looked to him to negotiate anyway. It worked as far as Vendrik was concerned, he got to keep his mouth shut and stand around while someone else did all the talking.

The stadium was attached to the local university, and as they walked in he glanced around at the class photos and sports trophies displayed in various glass cases. In the distance he could hear the noise of a large crowd and amplified voices, music, vehicles. Some kind of festival, he didn't really understand it. Being a mostly human colony its holidays and traditions were modeled after those of earth, which he had never bothered to learn that well.

But one of the events scheduled to entertain the people was an arena combat performance, so they were there to put on a show and entertain the crowd. A flat rate for showing up and doing their job, as well as prize money if they could win. Maybe enough to fix the damn air filter in their in-system runabout so he wouldn't spend the entire flight back smelling like Grax was rubbing his quad on his face.

He glanced over as Favius began talking to a human in a suit, discussing the schedule of the events, any special requirements and so forth they might need to know. Vendrik glanced over at the conversation but mostly kept his attention on his omnitool, preparing himself for the coming match, making sure everything was in order. Favius never had any problems with these kinds of negotiations. He carried himself with a special kind of poise, managing to look more dignified and regal buck naked than the human did in his somewhat sweat-soaked suit and tie.

Vendrik paged through his omnitool's screens, preparing the right programs and fabrication routines for the coming fight. As a combat engineer he was focused on his tech powers, with his only firearm being a Kassa Locust machine pistol. It was an accurate and easy to control firearm but lacked somewhat in raw damage, good for firing on the move or laying down more precise fire at range without overburdening him.

Arena Combat rules were well established, even out here in the sticks. Gear was allocated on a point buy system, each player had so many points to build their loadout. Weapons, attachments, upgrades, programs, tech powers, it all cost so many points. Favor armor at the expense of tech powers, strap on a pair of thruster jets and forego extra kinetic barriers. Take a big gun and sacrifice utility. It was a stable and balanced enough system which prevented richer teams from just loading their players out with all the best gear.

The weapons, powers and armor was all specific to Arena Combat as well. Modeled after a real military weapon, Vendrik's Locust was a psuedo-gun in actual operation. Firing a large, light pellet made of hard foam, the bullet would fracture into powder on impact with anything firmer than a blade of grass. His combat gear, a series of straps and a kinetic field generator, would register the hit and knock him about with a simulated impact. Take too much damage too fast and it would put him into a downed state, forced down under the weight of his own kinetic barrier field, and at the mercy of an opponent if not revived by a teammate.

Still, it was a rough sport, running around, jumping, dodging, beating each other up, not to mention what happened to those downed players if their team couldn't save them. Everyone in the team was hardened by it. They might not have been very famous but they'd been at it for a couple years now. They had all fought many matches, shot and been shot, raped and been raped, won and lost. They were scraping by, hoping they could find their big break.

"Alright boys, we have an hour before the show starts, locker room is this way." Favian said, waving them to follow him as he started off through the closed down school. Grax doubled back to grab their gear, the krogan carrying the crate without difficulty and setting it down in the locker room. Showers were started, the team washing off the sweat of their hot ride in the cramped shuttle, scrubbing up and working on their looks for a moment before they started to get themselves kitted out.

Vendrik unzipped his duffel bag and began pulling out his gear. His combat harness was a lightweight model, a few shield generator cylinders and the rectangular power boosters which improved his tech powers, those being his primary combat tool. He strapped it on over his chest, clasping the harness latches and adjusting the fit until it was comfortable. He then buckled on straps around each upper arm and thigh. His right thigh was a mount point for his SMG, the left thermal clip storage. His arm straps were used to carry a combat drone core and a lightweight turret, as well as a few more erotic tools for use on downed opponents. His teammates had similar gear, none of it concealed anything, that was the point.

"Hey Vendrik." Eric called from where he was strapping on his own combat harness, rather more heavy than the sleek turian's. Eric was the team's marksman, a Mattock rifle giving him flexibility but more punch at range, and with solid medium armor to duke it out in prolonged firefights. "Mind helping me loosen up?" He called, putting one foot up on a locker room bench and patting his rump.

"Yeah no problem." Vendrik nodded, checking his own gear one more time before he walked over.

As he knelt down behind the human's rear, Eric nodded. "Thanks man." The human said, lifting his rifle and checking the mid-range scope on top.

Vendrik leaned in, nuzzling the human's soft rump before he began to lick, long tongue lapping over Eric's puckered entrance. He pushed his tongue into the familiar hole, wiggling it around, getting it slicked up and relaxed. Vendrik unclipped one of his toys from an arm strap, a simple oblong shape which became a glowing hardlight dildo with the press of a button. He grunted as he pushed the toy into his hole, seating it in place and setting it to automatic. The toy elongated and shortened, simulating a fucking as it slid in and out.

This kind of preparation was part of their pre-match routine. There was a very good chance any of them could be getting raped in the next few hours so it paid to prepare to make that experience a bit easier, especially if they wanted to walk it off and get back into the match. All of them except Grax, who boasted that he didn't need any such preparations because he never went down. Not strictly true, but maybe the confidence boost was worth occasionally having to limp for the rest of a match.

"Any idea who we're going up against?" The human asked, looking around the locker room.

"All batarian team, the Qin-Xa Ravagers." Meloran quickly piped up, walking over next to Vendrik and Eric. The salarian promptly lifted one leg high and leaned it against the lockers, leaning into an almost perfect standing split. "Favor tag-team tactics from what the vids show so it might be hard to get one alone." The salarian didn't even flinch as he pushed a finger into his hole, beginning to rapidly loosen himself. He was the team's runner, the most agile and mobile, making quick attacks with his shotgun, going for flanks or running away to lead the opposing team into ambushes.

"Been a while since I dumped into a batarian." Grax chuckled fondly, rubbing his quad at the thought. The big krogan was leaning one hand on his claw hammer, the brutal close combat weapon he favored over the shotgun he also carried. Less effective at range, slower than Meloran, he was almost unstoppable in close, able to lay some opponents out in one hit of the mighty close combat weapon.

"Don't underestimate them." Favius warned, looking over his Phaeton rifle. The general rifleman of the squad, he was the pivot point, the anchor. He laid down steady suppressive fire and chipped away at enemy defenses, while maintaining his awareness of the entire battlefield. "I've looked into their record, they're mean and tough, not the smoothest tactically but they know their business and put on a good show for the crowd." The older turian reached into his kitbag, drawing out a large turian dildo, which he set down on the bench under him. The rifleman grunted as he lowered himself onto it, rocking his hips as he checked over his weapon again.

Vendrik pulled off of Eric's ass when a chime sounded over the locker room speakers. Wiping a mandible with the back of his hand he stood up, nodding to the human as he pulled the smart toy out of his rump and stowed it again.

"Showtime boys." Favius said, standing up and slinging up his rifle, leaving the toy lodged in his hole as he went towards the door. "If they like pack tactics we focus on disrupting those, Meloran, lead them to ambushes, Vendrik, try to disrupt them with tech. Grax, hold back a bit, if we can down one I want you to pounce on his buddy before they can reinforce."

Vendrik nodded, paging through his omnitool again before he stretched his arms, cracking his neck, pumping his arms, getting himself fired up for what was to come. They walked down the hall towards the stadium field, hearing the cheers of the crowd get louder as the announcer warmed them up.

They paused inside the door, waiting for the alert to go out, Favius turning back to them. "Alright boys, get 'em up." He ordered, reaching around to work the dildo in his rump a bit more, letting his pubic plates open wider, his erect shaft sliding out.

It was standard pre-match ritual. You couldn't stay hard the whole game of course, not without some very unpleasant stims, but the crowd expected jutting erections when you were strutting on stage. Vendrik rubbed his plates, slipping a careful claw in to tease his inner flesh, making his electric blue shaft slide out proudly. Around him the rest of the team was doing the same, getting themselves hard without getting so worked up they clouded their minds with lust.

An electronic horn sounded over the speakers and Favius nodded to the team. "Alright boys, let's do this." He gave a sharp nod and turned, lodging the dildo firmly up his rump before he threw the doors wide open to the roar of the crowd. The five of them strutted out, waving and pumping fists. In the middle of the field where games might normally be played, what looked like a small complex had been built of prefab buildings and cargo containers. A far cry from the detailed partially holographic environments of a true arena, it was enough for their game of five on five.

"Presenting for your entertainment, the Rim-World Rangers!" A voice boomed over the crowd. Vendrik pumped his hands in the air as the people cheered and shouted. A few camera drones whizzed over, circling the players, getting close ups of their faces or panning over their bodies. There was a loud cheer as Grax grabbed one of the drones and held it between his legs, holding up his quad boastfully for the camera to see, the image shining out across enormous screens set up around the stadium.

"On a long tour of rim world colonies, the Rangers are here to put their asses on the line for your entertainment, and fifteen thousand credits prize money!" The announcer proclaimed, to much cheering. "And they're going to have their work cut out for them with this competition, I present to you now the Qin-Xa Ravagers!"

More cheers, mixed with some booing as the other team was introduced. Batarian/human rivalry seemed to be well and truly alive in this part of space at least. Vendrik lowered his arms and looked over at their opponents as the announcer hyped them up as well. They seemed to be a competent crew. Five tough batarians favoring leather straps for their armor, weapons slung as they grandstanded for the crowd. One of them pointed over towards the Ranger's platform and grabbed his cock threateningly.

"They seem cocky." Eric noted, readying his rifle.

"Not all of them." Favius said quietly.

Vendrik could see what he meant. One of the five batarians wasn't taking as much of a part in the grand show, waving sometimes to the crowd but not jumping about and fist pumping like the others on his team. His eyes trained steadily on the Rangers, sizing them up one by one. He was of average build, a few visible tattoos on his body though impossible to make out this far away. He had a shock of short, punkish hair on his head which itself was a bit unusual, not a normal batarian style.

His teammates were pairing up now, two and two, as the match countdown began. Vendrik readied his SMG as he watched the Ravagers getting ready to jump into the arena, the one batarian remaining alone, drawing a combat shotgun. Their gazes met briefly across the length of the field, and the batarian gave him a shallow nod. Before Vendrik could respond, the starting horn blared and both teams jumped down into the arena, losing sight of each other among the prefab structures and walls.

There were several matches scheduled for that day, with breaks between for the audience to get refreshments and the players to recuperate. The first game mode was simple, down opponents to score points. If a player lost all their health they would go into a downed state, if not revived by a teammate they would have to wait for a short period before being forced back to their starting zone to reset and come back in. If an opponent got to them first, they would be raped before being let free to reset. Downing an opponent scored two points, a rape added three. Risk and reward, score more points, but leave yourself potentially open to attack while your guard was down.

As usual, Favius called the play. "Eric, get atop that structure and provide overwatch, feed us intel, we need to find those roaming pairs. Meloran, run out wide and wait for us to give you a flanking option. Grax, right up the middle, draw their attention, you're the anvil. Vendrik and I are the hammer, we'll press them to you. If they're splitting up then we give them defeat in detail. Go!"

They broke, the unfamiliar layout of the play area hindering their movements, but the strategy was a familiar one. They could see each other's positions on their retinal displays and combat visors, the buildings around them being mapped as they moved through them.

Favius turned a corner ahead of Vendrik, the others all splitting off on their own vectors. "Contact." The older turian grunted, firing off a quick burst of shots before ducking into cover.

"They're fast." Vendrik commented, glancing around the corner to see a pair of batarians pressing on their position.

"They didn't see you, think I'm alone. Flank left." Favius commanded briskly, before he charged right across the street, taking a few hits on his barrier as he laid out a long, loud burst on his rifle. Ducking quietly into the building, Vendrik went left, seeing the two batarians run after the only visible threat.

Vendrik lay in wait, holding up his SMG in one hand and his glowing omnitool in the other. Two pairs of footsteps thundered by, the batarians chasing what they thought was easy prey. Vendrik exploded from cover, firing with his machine pistol at close range while he let out a photon flash from his omnitool. The sudden pulse of light disoriented the batarians, both skidding to a halt as they reacted to the new threat.

Smooth as silk, Favius stopped running and pivoted, coming around to pour a long volley of fire into one of the batarians. Vendrik shot into him as well, his tool coming up again to blast a fireball at the other fighter. The shots were telling on the batarian they were both targeting, stressing his shields until his combat armor began flashing with red lights. With a sudden grunt the male was forced to the ground, his shield generators creating a high gravity field to keep him pinned down.

The remaining batarian seemed to consider his options, looking briefly at his downed comrade before deciding discretion was the better part of valor and retreating, dropping a fragmentation grenade to cover his retreat. After taking shelter from the blast, the two turians emerged to stand over the fallen batarian. The opposing fighter glared up at them, impotent, at their mercy.

"I'll score here." Favius decided, kneeling down behind the fallen player. "Go link up with Eric and start pressing a new target, I'll be fine."

Vendrik nodded and stepped back, checking the team status. Grax had taken fire and was engaged but nothing serious, Meloran was still out of the fight on his long flank. Favius pried the batarian's legs apart and slid between them, a nearby camera drone zooming in to capture the moment. "First score to us." The elder turian grunted as he forced his cock into the struggling batarian's hole. Vendrik left him to it, jogging off towards Eric's gently glowing ident tag.

The marksman as high up as he could get on a stubby tower built atop a prefab housing unit, scanning the lower areas with his rifle scope. He waved one handed down to Vendrik as the turian closed in on him. "Where did Grax get off to?" Vendrik called.

"Went northeast, I saw some movement there and sent the big man to flush them out, can't get any good angles yet though."

Vendrik nodded. "I'll flank, try and catch them in a pincer." He readied his weapon and took off at a trot, seeing Grax's location glowing on his display. The icon soon began pinging excitedly as the krogan entered combat.

"Got two here!" The warrior shouted, laughing uproariously as he waded into close combat.

Vendrik cursed under his breath, the krogan was a fearsome warrior but seemed to forget that he wasn't invincible. He sprinted towards his position, coming around the corner and taking stock of what was happening. Grax was taking fire from a building on the far side of a small square as he closed the distance, shotgun slung in favor of his hammer. His heavy shielding was taking the brunt of the attacks but fading quickly, whether he would make it or go down on the approach was a dicey prospect.

Tilting the odds, Vendrik fired off a micro RPG from his omnitool, the small warhead streaking past the krogan's charging form to detonate inside the building. The explosive rattled his attackers, diverting their fire and distracting them long enough for the krogan to close with them. If Grax realized that Vendrik had probably just saved him from going down he gave no sign. He bellowed with laughter as he charged into the building. Rapid gunshots and a loud 'whump' of his hammer striking flesh soon followed.

Vendrik held his machine pistol ready for the moment, pinging Grax over the squad frequency. "Need any help in there?" He asked the krogan.

When Grax responded he was panting lightly, and the occasional grunts and smacks of flesh on flesh made it very clear what was happening. You never really forget the sound made by a quad slapping someone's thighs. "Nah I got this, other prick ran off."

Vendrik lowered his guard and nodded to himself, standing up from cover. He gave a little snort at his teammate's behavior. Typical Grax, no consideration for tactics or the wider game, he just wanted to dump his quad into a struggling ass.

Before he could think what to do next, a sledgehammer impact to his left shoulder sent him reeling, almost spinning him around completely. His headset bleated a warning tone as he lost 60% of his shields instantly.

"Vendrik what happened?" Eric hissed over the radio, the distant marksman scanning for the shooter. "I don't see any sniper!"

An impact that hard should only have come from a heavy rifle, but he'd heard the bark of that gunshot, and it had been close as well. Recovering his composure quickly he ducked into cover and activated his omnitool. A moment later a holographic decoy of himself went running out of cover and into the open, fizzling as another close range round passed through it. "Got him." Vendrik grunted, pinging the location the gunshot had come from on his HUD.

He ran to flank, knowing Eric would be repositioning to cover the shooters escape routes. He saw his quarry briefly through a roughly cut window in one of the prefab building shells. The batarian punk, racking the slide on an Executioner pistol to cycle the single shot weapon's heavy action. Their eyes briefly met as Vendrik ducked through cover again, throwing out a sentry turret into the street and taking a few potshots with his SMG.

"Grax I could use some help right about now!" He hissed over the radio.

"I'm a little ngh busy!" The krogan grunted over the pained groans of the batarian wrapped around his cock.

Vendrik shook his head and peeked out of cover, only to duck back quickly as a shot struck the metal directly next to his head. A few millimeters over and that shot would have dropped him! He fired off a flash grenade and then vaulted out of cover, burning through his thermal clip as he laid down a withering full auto burst, closing on his target. He played aggressive, rushing into the house with the shooter and firing off an explosive shot.

The impact rocked the batarian, spoiling his next shot, the male retaliating with some kind of gauntlet mounted scattershot weapon, draining the rest of Vendrik's shields. His combat rig pulsed warnings in his ears, another hit or two and he would go down and be at the batarian's tender mercies. He dropped his combat drone and ducked through a set of storage crates, reloading as he ran before firing off an electroshock charge and jumping again, the batarian unable to evade all of it.

To Vendrik's frustration the male simply took the hits and jumped out of the window, dropping a handful of micro grenades behind him as he ran to prevent Vendrik from following with his shields so low. Cursing in frustration he went back out of the house, having achieved nothing but burning up a little bit of gametime.

Grax walked out of the building next to him wearing a dopey post-coital grin, his half erect cock dripping copious amounts of cum onto the dusty ground. "What'd I miss?" He asked obliviously.

The game rolled on steadily after that, fluid skirmish lines forming, rapid firefights making the crowd cheer and catcall as players went down and were scored on. After initially gaining the lead the Rangers had held onto it, but the Ravagers were gaining on them. Vendrik had scored twice after his failed shootout with the batarian punk, but the Ravagers had been playing hard and were gaining ground. Vendrik had gone down once and been scored on, his hole still glistening with the seed of his attacker, but he walked it off and got back into the fray. They were just a couple points ahead as the final minutes of the match began ticking down.

There had been a couple close calls but the punk continued to elude them. Nimble and wily, he seemed to be the brains of the operation, the two hunting pairs moving to flank targets and put pressure on lone opponents. He also seemed willing to sacrifice his teammates to protect his own ass, falling back while leaving others to hold the line and take hits for him.

With three minutes left on the clock, Meloran rang up Vendrik. "Taking a lot of fire here, got three of them on me." The salarian's voice was as clipped and even as always, but Vendrik could hear the tension in his voice.

He checked the score and cursed. It was damn close, if they downed Meloran and racked up too many points on him in the last few moments then it could turn the tide and win them the first match. With no one else close enough to intervene he took off running towards Meloran's HUD icon, which rapidly went from blue, to yellow to red as the runner took fire. He heard Meloran curse over the radio as he went down, Vendrik slowing to approach cautiously.

He could see Meloran ahead of him, the salarian was down in the middle of an open square between a few buildings. The batarian punk was there, his dyed hair unmistakable even from behind. He'd pinned the salarian to the ground and was raping him steadily, pinning the male's arms behind his back and thrusting in steady rocking motions, Meloran's legs twitching with each thrust.

Vendrik looked to each side, scanning for targets. He activated his holo decoy again, sending it running out towards the batarian's back. Nothing came, no trap sprung. The silent decoy behind him, the punk didn't turn around, still intent on the squirming salarian underneath him.

Deciding the other two must have moved on, Vendrik raised his SMG and began sprinting out into the square, lining up a shot in the square of the batarian's back.

He was halfway across the square when the shots began slamming into him from each side, too late to realize his mistake. The other two batarians leapt out of cover pouring shotgun blasts and SMG fire into his shields, his medium armor unable to take all the hits. Desperately Vendrik skidded to a halt and shot a photon flash at one of them, blinding him before turning to the other. Maybe he could keep them off balance long enough to escape!

The punk didn't flinch once, didn't even look up, just kept thrusting into Meloran. He tensed, snapping his hips forwards and came, pumping the salarian full before he pulled out a moment later, cum pouring out of Meloran's gaped hole. In the odd kind of clarity one has in these moments, Vendrik saw the batarian's face as if in slow motion. His expression was one of absolute calm and focus. No satisfaction at his trick having worked, not even pleasure at the rape he'd earned. Nothing at ally really.

The punk activated his gauntlet again, firing a swirling mass of fibers at Vendrik, the energized net wrapping around him and locking him in place as he continued taking fire. Before the flash-forged net disintegrated he lost his remaining health and went down, unable to do anything but lay there.

Whooping in triumph, the two batarians who had flanked him raced over, their cocks bouncing eagerly. Vendrik looked at his HUD's map, the rest of the team was too far away, being held back by the other batarian scrappers in what he now realized had been a very well planned and executed play.

Rough hands grabbed his hips and lifted them up, rolling him onto his back and forcing his legs wide. He grunted in pain as the first cock forced its way into his ass, sliding through his lubed hole and beginning to piston in and out of his body. The second was forced in a moment later, the first batarian making way for his comrade to begin a double penetration. The two cocks slid roughly in and out of him, stretching his hole about as wide as Grax ever did, Vendrik panting as he lay there. He dimly heard a set of footsteps approaching, a figure blotting out the sun as cum dripped onto the plates of his face.

"Never try to pull the same trick twice." The punk said, crouching down, his recently used cock still hard.

Vendrik tried to answer, but his words vanished in a wet glhk as the punk rammed his cock down Vendrik's throat.

It was brutal, exhausting, the batarians slamming into him over and over, the two taking his ass seeming to compete who could take him more roughly, pierce him more deeply. The punk's hips snapped back and forth as he face fucked Vendrik, the male's musk filling Vendrik's world as a pair of sweaty balls were repeatedly rubbed across his face. He dimly remembered how many points a triple-team gang rape would earn a team for pulling it off, and some isolated part of his mind noticed the score counter switch from blue to red as the Ravagers took the lead.

A loud horn sounded right about when he felt cum gushing into him, hot and thick and musky, the three males waiting for a moment before they pulled loose and rose up, splattering their last shots of seed over his face and torso.

Vendrik lay there for a few moments longer, alone now in the dusty square as he listened to the distant announcer call the first match for the Ravagers, their stunning last moment play having secured them the victory. He turned on his side and coughed up a wad of cum before he got back to his feet, heading back to the showers as batarian cum coursed down his thighs and legs, staining his grey plates pearly white.

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Pub: 29 Dec 2020 21:35 UTC
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