Tap. Tap. Tap tap. Creak. The sound of his pen rapping on the security desk and his chair—old and almost falling apart, since all the fucking budget went into research—protesting under his shifting bulk was the only sound that filled the security checkpoint. Robinson’s eyes scanned the empty hallway—thick metal walls and thicker security door—and let out a sigh. Tap tap creak tap. He glanced at the monitors on the desk. Most of them just showed a ‘No Signal’ message—had to protect the secrecy of the researchers and their little pet projects, right?—but the two that were currently recording—one showing the short, door-lined hallway of the wing, and one showing the passage toward the main hub of the black-site—confirmed what his eyes had already seen; deserted. Robinson sighed. Tap creak taptaptap.

A grunt from the man sitting next to him. “Will you fucking stop that?” Hennesy—yes, like the booze; no, no relation—looked up from his tablet—showing a page of the same book he’d read at least five times now—and gave Robinson a lazy scowl.

“Sorry.” Another sigh, and Robinson tossed the pen in his grip off to some random corner of the desk. This was his life; Hennesy’s life, and the life of all Weyland-Yutani’s black-site security. Look tough, sit pretty, and make sure the researchers doing all the real work in their labs and conference rooms didn’t blow shit up or unleash some kind of horrific plague. As long as they sat in their security booths and kept their mouths shut, they could while away the day-and-night-cycles however they wanted. Only one problem; signal was shit out in the ass-end of the galaxy, so entertainment was a lot harder to come by than it would seem when one heard the job description.

At least the pay was decent, and good old W-Y even offered pretty damn nice dental.

“Any word from in back?” Robinson hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the research wing, where Doctors Finney, Jenson, Huan, and Forrester were studying one of those monsters from Weyland-Yutani Black-Site X-32-Alpha; the moon orbiting the small, desolate dwarf planet on which Site Beta had been built. Xenomorphs, he thought they’d been named; horrific, buggy beasts that were all claws and teeth and feral fury. Robinson shuddered to think of what exactly the four were researching—and the rumors swirling around their particular wing didn’t exactly give him any confidence—but humans were ever curious, especially when they were paid not to be.

A shrug. Another grunt. A flick of Hennesy’s fingertip over his tablet’s screen. “Not a peep.” Sure, they heard the occasional noise or caught a glimpse of one of the scientists—mussed and covered with suspicious-looking fluids—moving between the rooms, but otherwise the researchers kept to themselves. Robinson waited for anything else Hennesy had to say, but it seemed that the other man wasn’t in the mood for conversation. And so Robinson just let out a grunt of his own, leaned back in his seat—eliciting another creak from below—and shut his tired, aching eyes against the harsh glare of the fluorescents in the ceiling. He could really go for some fucking coffee.

Tap tap tap. That wasn’t him.

Both security guards glanced over to the everything-proof plexiglass window looking out into the hall. One of the researchers was standing there, a smile on his flushed face as he hefted a tray with a pair of steaming, full-to-the-brim coffee cups upon it. Forrester, it looked like; the kid that had been grabbed up by good old W-Y right out of post-grad, and quickly taken under Doctor Jenson’s wing. Robinson looked to Hennesy, and Hennesy looked back to Robinson for a long moment before, once again, giving his fellow guard a shrug. “May as well see what he wants, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Robinson smacked the button to open up the security door, and then rose from his seat with a grunt—fuck, his leg had fallen asleep—to move over and crack the ‘office’ door open. “Yeah?”

“Hi!” Chirpy and pleasant, just what Robinson didn’t need. At least the kid seemed to have some shame; after an uncomfortably-silent moment, Forrester cleared his throat. “Sorry, I was just passing by and thought I’d bring by some coffee. Mind if I come in, or…?”

Did the damn science boys cook up some kind of mind reading shit or something? Robinson looked to Hennesy once more, and only received another shrug and a raise of an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.” The researchers never spared any thought for security; beyond the occasional sideways glance when they were working on something that would probably get them all killed—which was a lot more often than Robinson liked—so neither he nor his fellow guard really knew how to process Forrester’s offer. He stood aside, holding the door for the doc—wrinkling his nose at the pungent scent hanging around the man; probably some fumes from whatever the hell they were working on in the wing—and gestured towards the desk. “Set ‘em on down, I guess.”

Forrester nodded, but instead of setting the cups down, he put the entire tray on the desk and then handed Robinson and Hennessy each a steaming serving of sweet liquid energy. “So… how are things going in here?”

“Fine.” Hennesy grunted and lifted his cup to his mustached mouth while Forrester shifted from foot to foot. Robinson’s eyes narrowed; the damn scientists were up to something, and probably had something in mind to test on him and his fellow guard; it happened a lot more than you’d think, security being roped into the scientists experimentation as guinea pigs. He glanced away from the researcher— but not before noticing the slight sheen of sweat on Forrester’s flushed face—and raised up his own coffee. He blinked. It smelled off somehow; sweet, but not saccharine.

“So, you’re a coffee-boy now, huh?”

Forrester cleared his throat, and Robinson looked the researcher up and down; he quickly looked away once again when he noticed how tight the other man’s slacks seemed to be in the crotchular region. “Well, you see…”

“You want us to look the other way on something? Or what?” Robinson took a sip of the steaming brew. Sweet underneath the usual bitterness. The coffee provided at the black-sites was shitty on the best of days, but this cup actually tasted kind of good. Another sip, and Robinson felt the heat of it travel down his throat to settle in his gut.

“Oh, no, nothing like that.” Forrester’s gaze was growing more intense as Robinson continued to sip on the steaming liquid, and the guard quickly realized that it was putting heat in his own cheeks. He blinked at a twinge just behind his eyes, and coughed as his throat seemed to tighten. But still he continued to drink the sweet ambrosia in the cup; it was good coffee, probably the best he’d tasted, and he quickly found that he couldn’t get enough of it. “My colleagues and I were hoping to get your cooperation for a little experiment.”

Fucking called it. “So what…wh-what…” Robinson sniffed at the air; something smelled amazing. Rich and spicy and sweet, with an odd rubber-fruit undertone and a pungent edge that got that heat in his cheeks—in his gut and, to his faint surprise, his groin—flaring. He looked over to Hennesy, and realized that his fellow guard seemed to be in the same boat as he was; panting, flushed, and starting to sweat in the suddenly-stuffy office. That twinge in his head grew more intense, from a slight pinprick to a spike being driven into his brain. “What the… the fuck did you d-do…?”

“Sorry about this.” The fucking science boy didn’t sound sorry at all he stepped forward and groped Robinson. Forrester’s hand rubbed over the throbbing bulge in the guard’s pants—fuck, why was he so hard?—to tease the suddenly-oversensitive length within. Robinson could feel the heat gathering in his crotch, hotter and hotter and drawing out a strangled groan as the researcher touched him; began to work the fly of his pants open, popping the button and tugging at the zipper. He wanted to pull away—shove Forrester off of him—but his limbs and head felt so heavy. “It was necessary to get the concoction in your system.”

The coffee. He’d spiked it with something. The guard let out another low moan as the insistent pulse in his crotch—his erection—eagerly responded to the other man’s touch. Fuck, this was so wrong. But as he stared downward, watching Forrester fish his twitching manhood out of his underwear to let it bob and dribble and fill the stale air with the guard’s own—embarrassingly, yet somehow arousingly—potent smell, Robinson remained frozen in place. His hips pushed up against Forester’s fingers. His breath quickened; and that same damn scent—Forrester’s scent—filled his lungs and clouded his mind and forced a soft, aroused groan from between his slack jaws.

“That’s right. You can feel it, can’t you? You can smell it.” A smile—flirtatious?—as the researcher stroked his cock. “The connection to the hive. The need to breed…” Forrester paused, looked to Hennesy, and his smile widened into a predatory scythe across his face. “To be bred.”

Robinson followed the researcher’s gaze, and his breath hitched—his length jumped and splattered Forrester’s working hand with his precum—at the sight. Hennesy was groaning and heaving and pulling his sweat-soaked clothes off; the other guard had already freed his own erection, and the sight of it thrilled Robinson in a way he’d never felt before. Hennesy met his gaze; and that twinge in Robinson’s mind grew sharper, clearer, like static fading away. Heat. Arousal. Desire. Hennesy was in his head—Forrester was in his head, and he could feel other waves of thought that weren’t his own coming through; a connection, the researcher had said?—and Robinson could feel how horny his fellow guard was. The throb of Hennesy’s cock in the other man’s pumping grip. The damp heat—embarrassing, yet somehow achingly arousing—pulsing between Hennesy’s firm, hairy, sweat-damp asscheecks. And the aroma—faint, yet slowly growing stronger and ever-more pungent—rising from the man.

Musk. Heat. Fertility? Robinson took another deep lungful of it, feeling how it stoked the fires of lust burning in his own dribbling erection as the masculine aroma mingled with Forrester’s. Yeah, definitely fertility. Both Hennesy and Forrester smelled hotter than the best pussy he’d ever sampled, and he found himself pressing forward against the younger researcher—pumping his hips and wrapping his arms around Forrester’s shoulders to cling to the other man—while sniffing again and again and again. A groan—a growl—rumbled in his throat as he found his arousal answered by the others through that twinge in his mind, ever-intensifying in an endless positive feedback loop. “Fuck… oh fuck…”

“Yes. Fuck.” Forrester let out a—hissing?—moan of his own. “But not here. Come on, there are a few… colleagues… that we’d like you to meet before we begin experimenting in earnest.”


The sound of chitin smacking against firm, supple flesh, along with the hissing and crooning and groaning of a pair locked in the throes of passion. The rich aroma of sex—the masculine musk of his body mingling with the sweet, pheromone-rich scent of his partner’s; his mate’s—filling his lungs with every panting breath. The prick of sharp claws and fangs and bony protrusion’s from the other male’s—large and alien and inhumanly-monstrous, but still undeniably male—body sending surges of fire through his nerves that sparked against the roiling, gathering heat in his loins.

Sam Finney, head researcher of Weyland-Yutani Black-Site X-32-Beta and co-head of the new, fledgling hive, gazed up at Alpha as he wrapped his legs around the xenomorph’s working hips. His hands stroked the ridged, flanged, crown-shaped crest arcing back over the length of the alien’s elongated head, and smiled as the touch drew another purr from the rutting, humping creature. Alpha. His mate. The beautiful, sexy King of their hive, and the subject that had pushed his research to new, towering heights of success. He pulled the xenomorph’s face down against his neck—an instinctual thrill ran down his spine as Alpha’s fangs gently scraped his pulsing, swallowing throat—and relaxed to let the creature’s massive, wriggling, thrusting cock hilt within him. “Come on. Fuck me, Alpha.” He stared down at the xenomorph’s eyeless face, and pressed his lips to the ridge just below its—his—crest. “Breed me.”

The words were accompanied by a surge of thought and emotion through the twinge in Sam’s head—his connection to the developing hive-mind that had first sparked during the beginnings of his experiments with the xenomorph—to echo between the two mates. Sam’s belly growing large and round, filled with their offspring. The researcher on his back underneath Alpha, cock erect and spurting as the thick, leathery eggs passed through him and dropped from his hole. Their children—praetorian or drone didn’t matter to him—hatching, growing, taking their place in the hive; just like Beta had, and Gamma and Delta were in the process of doing.

Alpha hissed again, and his rocking pace quickened as he fucked Sam hard and fast and deep.

The human clutched onto the xenomorph, gasping and groaning when the spring coil in his groin wound tight enough to finally snap and send eruptions of his semen spurting out between them. A huffing sound—a laugh—from Alpha accompanied a careful nibble on Sam’s shoulder, and then the creature screeched as Sam’s inner walls clamped down around his own throbbing breeding tool.

Faster. Harder. Deeper. Again and again, until the xenomorph finally threw back his head and roared out his orgasm. Sam could feel it deep in his bowels; shot after shot of potent, virile alien seed shooting into him as Alpha’s cock writhed and pushed right against his prostate. The sensation—the fullness—almost made the human wish that he could become a breeder for Alpha; that he could gulp down the serum he’d developed to allow their coupling again and again until—like Forrester’s and Huan’s—his anus became a moist, damp, fertile breeding hole.

But no. There was still much more work to be done; for his employers and for the hive. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t indulge in the fantasy while enjoying his afterglow with his mate.

A deep, crooning purr. Alpha’s lithe arms—thickly-corded with muscle and coated with firm, shiny chitin—wrapped around the human as his massive, alien body settled atop Sam; like a cat settling in its human’s lap. The creature murmured and hissed in contentment while laying his head on Sam’s chest; if he were the kind for such sentiment, the human would find it adorable. As it was, his lips pulled up into a wide smile as his fingers played over the xenomorph’s long, ridged crest. There weren’t any words from Sam; just mingling thoughts and emotions of warmth of comfort being shared between the two through their mental connection.

Sam could get used to this.

He let out a quiet grunt, and then moved to sit up; Alpha immediately crawled off of the human with a soft hiss. As Sam sat up, his hand stroked its way down the xenomorph’s spine, playing around the ridges and protrusions along Alpha’s back. When his fingers brushed Alpha’s own rump, the alien’s bladed tail immediately hiked up to bare the pulsing, dribbling, musk-and-fluid-smeared breeding orifice underneath; and when the human’s fingers brushed over that hot pucker, pushing and delving inside, the xenomorph let out a blissful screech. A chuckle accompanied a question pushed through into Alpha’s mind; he loved that, didn’t he. Alpha did, and the images and sensations being pushed into Sam’s brain in return—the alien presenting itself eagerly, Sam sinking his own cock to the hilt inside Alpha, the two of them rutting and breeding until Alpha’s belly was filled with his mate’s own virile see—only confirmed it.

A hiss. A glance of Alpha’s eyeless face over his shoulder, and a flirtatious flick of the xenomorph’s tail. A shift of his hips, pushing up to let Sam’s fingers sink deeper into his humid entrance; squeezing and clamping around the working digits as they sank in to the knuckle. Alpha was ready to go again, and as the throbbing in his mind sent pulses of heat to his hardening cock, Sam found himself ready and willing as well; ready to fill Alpha again and again to populate their hive.

Another pulse, different from the xenomorph’s. A push away from thoughts of breeding. Forrester.

Again, Sam let out a low grunt, pushing back against the twinges from his fellow researcher. It seemed that the preparations had been made, and they were ready to begin their experimentation in earnest. Head Researcher Finney was elated by the news, and thoughts of the plan that had germinated over the previous few cycles raced through his cooling brain; if this was a success, then his task for Weyland-Yutani would be pretty much complete. Sam Finney—Alpha’s mate—however, was reluctant to rise from the King’s nest—a pitch-black mass of xenomorph saliva and semen and slime that had been shaped and molded and sculpted into a surprisingly-comfortable bed-like surface—and make his way to the lab. Alpha let out an annoyed screech at being denied his pleasure, but as he moved to follow his human Sam gave the xenomorph’s head crest another slow, tender stroke. Later.

Another hiss of reluctant understanding. Then Alpha pushed forward to drag its face over Sam’s semen-smeared crotch and belly, the xenomorph coating his face and jaws in his mate’s seed. A huff and a flick of his tail accompanied Alpha making his way out before Sam. Later.

The head researcher sighed, brushed at himself to try appearing halfway decent—brushing his fingers through his hair and wiping the worst of the sweat and smut off his face, but leaving himself completely nude—and followed the xenomorph—and Forrester’s link—to the lab. There, he found the younger scientist already introducing the guards from the security checkpoint outside to a curious Alpha. Sam let his eyes wander over the security guards’ own naked forms appreciatively as he stood back to observe.

Robinson—dark-skinned and chiseled—looked like he was barely holding himself at attention instead of fleeing from the xenomorph sniffing and huffing and getting close to his bared form. The man let out a hiss of his own as Alpha’s humid breath washed over his crotch; his balls, thick and low-hanging and filled with plenty of cum to go around, and the human’s large, girthy, twitching shaft. “It’s not gonna bite me, is it?”

“No, of course not. He’s very interested in you, actually.” Indeed, Sam—and Forrester—could feel it through the hive-mind. The rich scent of Robinson’s and Hennesy’s cocks being breathed in by Alpha, fueling the erection pulsing and dribbling between the xenomorph’s own thighs. And the hive-mates could feel the humans’ minds twinging and connecting to their own; thoughts and feeling—fear of the monstrous creature sniffing their dicks, but Alpha and his Praetorian sons could take care of that reluctance easily—being shared between all of them. Robinson and Hennesy both grunted, flushed and panting and sweating from this new, strange arousal washing through them as they watched Alpha turn to present himself to them. The xenomorph’s legs spread, his hips and tail lifted, and Alpha bared the humid, clenching hole underneath; and his own long, thick breeding tool, where Hennesy’s attention and interest quickly shifted. Alpha, Forrester, and Sam—and even Robinson, the guard’s nose wrinkling and his shaft pulsing and spurting as he glanced over at his fellow—could all smell the scent rising from the man; the rich, pungent, needy fertility pulsing and throbbing in the human’s own hot, slick hole. Forrester chuckled. “He’s interested in breeding with you.”

“So that’s what all of you have been doing?” Robinson jerked his gaze away from Hennesy—from his fellow guard’s own large, burly, hairy body; a soft layer of fat had developed with the man’s advancing age, but they could all see the firm musculature still flexing underneath the padding—to look to Forrester and then Sam. “You’ve been fucking these things to make more?”

“We’ve been breeding the xenomorph specimens per orders from the Directors.” Sam was the one to answer, stepping forward to stroke down Alpha’s spine. “Our methodology notwithstanding, we have seen many promising results. I’m sure you’ve noticed a few of them.” With a smirk, the head researcher pushed a few visions of their ‘methodology’ through the mental link. Visions of Alpha being bred again and again by thick, virile human cocks that plunged into his hole and sank carefully into his second jaws and ground against the xenomorph’s own spasming, orgasming erection; and then the xenomorph hissing as it laid his eggs, and the eggs hatching into offspring that quickly grew into fine, strong specimens for further breeding.

“Yeah, I see.” Robinson’s flush was growing hotter, even as his mind tried to turn away from the images; tried, and failed.

“And so where do we come in?” Hennesy maintained—tried to maintain—a stony expression, even as—with an indulgent nod and a pulse of encouragement from Sam through the mind-link—the man reached back to push a finger into his humid cleft and drag it over his slick pucker. However, they could all feel the rumble of pleasure in the guard’s throat that the contact produced.

“Well, first and foremost, we needed to do a blind test to ensure that the seminal concoction truly works. As you can tell,”—another throb of shared pleasure through the twinges in their minds—“it was quite the success.”

“Seminal con-… semen? We were drinking that thing’s… uh, this guy’s… cum?” Robinson looked like he was reeling, though a twitch of his cock—and a pulse of arousal through his swimming thoughts—made it clear that the idea wasn’t as disgusting as he seemed willing to act like it was.

“Yes.” Blunt. Terse. To the point. A scientist’s answer, even if their ‘experimentation’ was far from scientific. “…Tastes good, yes?”

“…Yeah.” Shame. Embarrassment. The emotions were quickly brushed aside, pushed away by the hive-mates as their thoughts reassured the guard. They’d all enjoyed it—very much, in fact—and the results of the experiment—bringing Robinson and Hennesy into the fold, connecting them to the hive, and filling them with the breeding urge that burned in every other one of them—were self-evident in the dribbling of their erections.

“And now, we require your further assistance.” Sam cleared his throat. “You see, our breeding program is in need of… variable genetic material. And so, we need you to help with breeding the new specimens in order to increase our population.”

“You want us to get our dicks wet for science?”

“Yes.” Again, blunt and terse and to the point.

“Not just your dicks.” That was Forrester, sidling up next to Hennesy and pressing his own nude body against the older man’s. One hand stroked through the dense forest of salt-and-pepper hair coating Hennesy’s chest and stomach, while the other moved to place the guard’s own hand on the researcher’s ass. A surge of thought—desire, hot and needy and making all the hive-mates’ erections throb—pushed Hennesy’s finger deep into Forrester’s cleft—sunk it into the scientists own clenching breeding hole to the knuckle—while Forrester took over fingering the other man’s pucker. “We’ve made a lot of progress with our experimentation on human breeding subjects.” Thick, wriggling, pulsing cocks plunging deep into their passages. The stretch and itch and hot fullness in their bellies. The heaviness that would grow within them; offspring. “…Can you feel it? The breeding-heat?”

“…Yeah.” Hennesy was moaning and panting, his stony mask slipping off to reveal the flushed, needy arousal beneath. His eyes darted from Robinson—watching the pulsing and twitching of his fellow guard’s fat erection—to Sam—seeing the smirk on the researcher’s face as he pumped his own cock—and then to Alpha—following the movement of the creature’s clawed hand as the Xenomorph King emulated his mate in stroking his dribbling breeding tool—with open hunger. “Alright, I’m up for it.”

“Excellent.” Sam nodded as that self-satisfied grin spread over his face once more. He then looked to Robinson. “And you?”

Robinson looked to Hennesy. He looked to Forrester and Sam. He looked to Alpha. He breathed in deep—filled his lungs with the thick, spicy, mingling musks of the other males—and curiously ‘poked’ at the twinging in his mind; when another surge of the hive-mates’ arousal swept through him, he staggered and groaned and reached down to grasp his pre-spurting manhood while and nodding. “Yeah, sure. Haven’t blown a load in anything but my hand for a long while now, so…”

“Oh, I assure you, that won’t be a problem ever again.” Sam sent yet another pulse of heat—lust and desire and need—through their shared mental link, just to seal the deal. “Now then, let’s take this to the breeding chamber, shall we?”


The ‘breeding chamber’, as it turned out, was a large storage area off the main lab that had been repurposed into quarters for Huan, Jenson, and Forrester, and then further repurposed into a ‘bedroom’ for all of the hive-mates. When the group entered, they could already hear hissing and groaning. Wet smacking and schlicking and the sounds of flesh smacking against firm chitin. The sounds of sex.

Huan and Jenson—the two researchers who hadn’t yet met their new hive-mates—were caught in between a trio of rocking, humping aroused xenomorphs; Beta, Gamma, and Delta, the praetorians of the Hive. The former two males were crooning and purring passionately to each other as they worked into Huan from both ends. Huan, his almond-shaped eyes closed in bliss, lay on his back and suckled eagerly on Beta’s fat, soft, almost-humanoid erection while Gamma’s plunged into his breeding hole again and again; he let out deep, blissful moans of his own as the two tenderly and gently caressed his firm, round, full—gravid—gut. Jenson, meanwhile, was fucking Delta just as enthusiastically; his hand was wrapped tight around the xenomorph’s erection, pumping it in time with his thrusting and making Delta screech in pleasure. And of course, Huan and the youngest xenomorph were cuddled together as they were fucked, nuzzling and caressing each other while being bred full of rich, potent seed; seed that would grow within them to produce yet more members of their hive.

There wasn’t any acknowledgment—verbal, at least—from the rutting hive-mates as the two newcomers entered behind Forrester, Sam, and Alpha. They continued to put on their show; no, grew even more enthusiastic in their fucking as they felt the wide, staring, curious eyes of the guards on them. Hennesy was openly stroking himself to the sight, thoughts of taking his place in the pile—feeling those deep-black, fleshy, musk-stinking lengths on and in him as well—already filtering through the hive-mind, while Robinson gulped and let his tongue dart over his dry lips. “Goddamn…”

“You like what you see?” Again, a pair of arms—Sam’s this time—wrapped around the dark-skinned man’s broad, strong torso. Again, another man’s hand wrapped around his erection—gripping firmly, yet tenderly—and began sliding along his twitching length. Again, a surge of arousal through his mind made Robinson hiss and groan and settle into the researcher’s embrace as he watched the alien creatures he and the rest of the black-site had feared so much breeding and being bred in a big gay orgy.

“Yeah…”

“You want to join in?”

“Yeah.” The word was spoken with a little more conviction this time; Robinson even rocked back against Sam’s hips when he felt the head researcher’s own cock settle into the taut cleft of his ass.

“Good, because it looks like you’ll get your chance.” He nodded toward Gamma and Beta, though the gesture wasn’t exactly necessary; they could all feel the two xenomorphs’ simultaneous orgasms as they threw their heads back in roars of completion. They filled Huan from both ends, their cocks pulsing and throbbing as the human gulped Beta’s cum down—like a man finding water in the desert—and pushed his hips up against Gamma’s humping crotch. Then the two brothers pulled out, letting their softening cocks rub on Huan’s face and groin and smear their breeding partner’s body with their sexual fluids. A pulse from Sam got their attention, and both Beta and Gamma growled and rumbled as they moved to answer their father’s call.

“Are they gonna-?” Robinson’s question was answered with a soothing throb through that twinge in his brain. He watched, still breathing heavily while his fight-or-flight instincts went into overdrive, as the two xenomorphs moved down to his crotch. Sniffing. Purring. Pushing forward to rub their crests and eyeless faces against the sweat-and-precum-slick shaft. They alternated moving up to the tip, trilling in delight as the human’s thick, copious sexual fluid spurted onto their chitin, and then down toward the base to take in this new hive-mate’s rich scent. And all the while, through that mental link, the guard could feel the arousal that throbbed in their own impressive erections and beneath their hiked-up tails.

“Yes, they’re ‘gonna’.” Sam’s chest rumbled with laughter as he joined in with his son’s appreciation for the human guard. Thick, strong musculature flexing under his hands as he rubbed over Robinson’s biceps and chest. Hips that were made to drive that cock of his deep into a willing breeding hole rocking at his touch. That masculine aroma, already tinged with familiarity as Robinson settled into his place in the hive, filling his lungs. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” He smiled to the two xenomorphs, watching proudly as they worked over Robinson’s groin together; both seemed to be the spitting image of each other, Gamma having bulked up and grown—both his crest and his cock enlarging to rival that of his older brother—into a fine, strong, sexy praetorian in his own right. The researcher’s hand moved to settle atop Gamma’s head, and the younger male crooned as he felt his father’s mind caressing his own.

“Ye- Nngh!” Robinson jumped in surprise when Beta’s jaw opened wide, and the xenomorph’s secondary jaws moved to engulf his erection. “F-fuck… tight…” The extended throat of the alien creature slid further and further down the virile shaft, and then began to bob up and down its length; better than any blowjob the guard had ever had. Robinson looked over to the other one—Gamma—and felt that twinge in his mind again; curiosity and desire and envy for his older brother. “Does it want to-?” A sharp sting from Sam; an admonishment. He could ask Gamma himself. Robinson gulped, met the xenomorph’s eyeless gaze, and felt his lips twitch into a nervous smile. “You… wanna suck my dick too, little guy?” The words seemed ridiculous—the massive, alien creature was far from a ‘little guy’—but for some reason it felt right.

Especially when Gamma hissed—delighted—and pushed forward while Beta latched off to give Robinson’s cock over to his younger brother.

“Have fun.” A smirk. Another pulse through their mental link. A pat on the man’s—his hive-mate’s—ass as Sam moved away to let the trio enjoy each other. His gaze drifted over to the breeding bed—another massive, oddly-comfortable sculpted structure of dried xeno-goop—where Forrester had apparently dragged Hennesy to. There was no sign of the younger researcher, nor of Jenson; though a throbbing in the mind-link from the two indicated where they’d gone off together. It was just Huan, Hennesy, Delta, and Alpha now; the humans lay side-by-side, stroking and caressing and exploring each other while sharing an intimate kiss around Delta’s cock. Meanwhile, Alpha held Hennesy’s legs up and apart and slammed his breeding tool home into the human’s damp, tight—virginally tight—pucker. The xenomorphs, like Gamma and Beta early, were trading affectionate nuzzles and nips with each other as they pleasured and were pleasured by their human hive-mates. Warmth and pleasure flowed through the mental link from the group, drawing Sam like a candle to a flame.

Alpha hissed, switching from nibbling Delta’s throat to pressing his face into the crook of his mate’s own neck, when Sam settled in between Huan’s splayed legs next to the Hive King. No words passed between them as the researcher’s lips pressed to Alpha’s crest; but even as he slid his cock into Huan’s open breeding hole, slamming inside and rutting his fellow researcher—as he worked to add his own seed to the ocean already within Huan—the thoughts and minds of the two mates mingled and entwined. Heat. Lust. Arousal. The future of their hive, their sons and fellow hive-mates rutting and being rutted and expanding their ranks.

Sam looked to Huan; gazed down into the man’s eyes as he watched Delta’s impressive cock hilt in his fellow scientist’s throat. He rubbed over the other man’s expanded gut—full of their eggs, ready to be laid and hatched—and rocked his own breeding tool into Huan’s clenching entrance. He smirked, pushing yet more visions of rutting and mating and hard, raunchy fucking into the man’s swimming mind, and watched in satisfaction as Huan’s eyes clenched shut in bliss; another splatter of cum joined the smeared mess on his chest and belly. Huan had taken to the role of broodmare—one who’d present himself for Alpha, the xenomorph’s sons, and even the other human hive-mates with eager delight—remarkably well. Was it random chance, or something within the man—within Forrester, and now within Hennesy—that made them predisposed to it? Sam didn’t know, but the prospect of experimenting long and hard to uncover the answer sent throbs of heat into his roiling groin.

His eyes roamed over Hennesy’s rocking, moaning, panting form, seeing how eagerly the security guard pressed his face into Delta’s swinging ballsack to kiss and suckle on the leathery, sweaty flesh. He stroked through the impressive carpet of hair down the man’s chest and stomach, and began to pump the guard’s own erection in time with Alpha’s slamming thrusts. Like Huan—and like Robinson, who was groaning in bliss as he pushed into Gamma’s tight, clutching, needy breeding hole after blowing a load of seed down the xenomorph’s gullet—Hennesy seemed to be taking to his new role in the hive very well; much more enthusiastically than either man had, seeming more like Jenson and Forrester in his acceptance of the lust and—admittedly very homosexual, since they were designating all the xenomorph specimens as male—arousal being fed into the developing hive mind. An awakening of repressed feelings? Already-present attractions that were only being stimulated and brought to new heights? Every probe through their connection was only met with hot, needy pulses of confirmation from the man. Interesting; that would require further study when they increased their sample size.

Finally, Sam looked to Delta; the youngest of the xenomorph specimens—his sons—who had grown into a fine, strong, healthy praetorian just like his brothers. The broad, pronged crest crowning the male’s elongated skull, the firm musculature bulging and flexing all over his massive, chitin-armored body, and the thick, long, virile member plunging into Huan’s suckling mouth all spoke of his direct bloodline relation to the Hive King. And above everything else—the sights and sounds of sex all around them, or the feeling of hot, wet, eager tongues and lips on his malehood—it was that which stoked the fires of arousal in the young xenomorph. He would breed with Jenson, or Forrester, or Huan, or any of the new hive-mates as an obligation, but Delta was deeply, achingly, homosexually and incestuously attracted to his fathers and brothers; an attraction that ran far deeper than the casual sexual interest Alpha, Beta, and Gamma displayed towards each other. The youngest xenomorph—so far at least—hissed and crooned and leaned in close to nip at Alpha’s shoulders and neck while his clawed hands explored the older alien’s huffing, rocking, musk-and-sweat-and-cum-slick bodies. He purred, feeling Sam’s eyes raking appreciatively over his form, and eagerly showed off for his human father as they shared pulses of lust with—for—each other through their entwined minds. And when Beta moved in behind his younger brother, wrapping his arms around the other xenomorph’s broadened chest and pushing his hips against the other alien’s rump—a glance confirmed that Robinson was busy breeding Gamma, the human’s thick cock plunging deep into the creature’s slick breeding orifice again and again; it seemed Beta, left to his own devices, had come to join the fun with his other hive-mates—Delta trilled and chittered and eagerly hiked his tail up to let his older brother rut him. This too, was very interesting to Sam; he remembered calling Alpha a ‘kinky little thing’ when the thoughts of breeding with their offspring had first filtered through their link, but it seemed that Delta at least had outright developed a fetish. Was such a thing possible in the alien creatures, whose minds only seemed to grow sapient as they were combined within the hive? The thought of finding out—exploring more with Alpha, and Beta and Gamma and Delta as well—tightened the spring coil in Sam’s gut until it snapped, sending an eruption of his seed deep into Huan.

Sam could get used to this.

Their rutting continued long into the night-cycle. Hennesy was passed around between all the males in the hive, sucking their cocks and drinking down their cum and letting himself be filled over and over again. Robinson, meanwhile, only grew more eager to plunge his breeding tool into a tight, damp, willing breeding hole; to have sex with his fellow hive-mates, even Huan and Hennesy and Sam. Jenson and Forrester never did make a reappearance; they were too busy with their own experiments, the older researcher filling the younger’s hole with shot after shot of seed to test the boundaries Forrester’s fertility.

Huan, meanwhile, had to withdraw from the activities after a while; his gravidity had reached its peak, and the eggs that had grown within him were shifting and readying themselves to be laid. The others watched, continuing with pleasuring themselves and each other, as the heavy-bellied researcher squatted—his back to the eager audience and his ass spread wide to bare his twitching, winking hole—strained—gasped and panted and whined while stroking himself as the heaviness within him dropped—and let the large, leathery xenomorph eggs stretch him wide open as they were pushed out into the world—Huan giving birth to yet more members of their hive. A glance from Hennesy drew a warm chuckle from Sam and a lustful throb of an answer; yes, in time that would be him laying the offspring that would grow from the potent, virile seed within him.

A moan of bliss. A pulse of pleasure. A nod, and a wide grin that broke across Hennesy’s face; and Robinson’s, as thoughts of fucking his fellow guard along with his new hive-mates filled the other man’s mind as well. The two security guards were fully part of the hive now; eager breeding studs and holes to expand the ranks. This experiment was a rousing—arousing—success, and it was finally time to put Sam’s plan for the hive’s perpetuation into motion.


Slowly. Secretly. Subtly. Forrester and Jenson—the ones assigned the task of spiking the black-site’s coffee with the seminal concoction Sam had perfected with Robinson and Hennesy’s assistance—had to do their work carefully so as not to be noticed. Just a little bit at first, added to the coffee machines in the lounge in the lulls between day-and-night-cycle, and then more and more until the flavor and scent of it was unmistakable underneath the brew. Not that any of the other researchers seemed to notice, beyond comments of how tasty the usually-shitty coffee had become. Delicious. Addictive.

And when the warmth of the coffee became a hot, pulsing, insistent throb in their crotches, Forrester and Jenson were there to capitalize on it. To tease their fellow scientists with a few flirty glances, brushes and touches that advanced into full-on groping, and wafts of their rich breeding musk to arouse the other men further. And when each new hive-mate was ready—when the twinge in their mind opened into a full connection to the hive—they were taken into Sam’s wing to meet Alpha, and the Hive King’s praetorian sons, and the growing army of drones who had—over the generations—become more compatible with their human breeding partners; the drones weren’t as built or strong or massive as their praetorian fathers, but every single one had a virile humanoid cock and a pair of low hanging balls in a leathery sack between their thighs, a tight breeding hole under their tails, and a musk that was just as potent and pungent and fertile as Beta’s or Gamma’s or Delta’s.

Robinson and Hennesy did their part as well, of course. As they moved to other posts throughout the complex, they were just as diligent in seducing the researchers they were tasked to watch over. And as other security guards were assigned to the checkpoint outside the hive, they too were given the seminal concoction and taken into the breeding chambers to add their seed to the mix.

Slowly. Secretly. Subtly. The hive expanded, and thrived.

Sam listened to the sounds of pleasure—hissing and screeching and moaning and blissful cries of orgasm—that sounded throughout the wing as he lay with Alpha in their nest. His bare, slime-and-breeding-fluid-coated body pressed against the Hive King’s own large, armor-plated form, and he felt the tender nibbling and raking of Alpha’s claws against his neck and shoulders and over his chest. Their cocks, erect and throbbing as they ground together, twitched in time to the pulses of lust through their hive-mind.

A moan, low and quiet and rapturous. Sam met Alpha’s eyeless gaze, and smiled as he pressed his lips to the xenomorph’s crest. And when the human’s fingers slipped beneath the Hive King’s lifted tail to trail around and over the humid, puckered, clenching hole beneath, the alien moved to present himself with a needy, crooning purr. The lust flowing through their link to their hive-mates made Sam’s cock jump and spurt with insistent arousal, yes, but it was scent and flavor—rich musk and rubbery, spicy fruit and sharp, acrid fertility—of Alpha’s hole as he sniffed and licked and plunged his manhood to the hilt into it that truly got the man hot and horny.

They would breed. Alpha would grow gravid with yet more of their offspring. Their hive would grow just as strong and powerful as the Xenomorph King had become, thanks to Sam’s experimentation. And they would lay together as mates for the rest of their lives.

Warm. Safe. Tender and—perhaps just a little bit—loving. Sam sighed and yelled and roared as he came inside his mate. The two of them collapsed together into a tangle of limbs and chitin and post-orgasmic euphoria, their minds and their hands entwining. And all around the pair, their hive echoed with the sounds of rutting. Sex, and the screeching, trilling, hissing life it created. Breeding.

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Pub: 30 Dec 2020 13:28 UTC
Views: 355