Milk Thief x Player

[Trials in Tainted Space writers]

The milk thief has turned you on too much to keep fighting. You give in....

You curse the weight of your own bloated phalli as they drag you to the ground, not from weakness due to injury but from the growing sense of submissive arousal addling your nerves and making your genitalia too weighty to carry. The wet slap of cock against pavement rings out like a clarion call as the milk thief advances on your position. On some level you know you should probably make an attempt to crawl away or escape somehow. On the other hand, you’re so disturbingly hard that jacking off while she does whatever she wants seems increasingly like the best option.

“Stars and sunrays! You’re such a fucking mess. Look at you, practically pinned down by the weight of your own genitalia. Mmm,” the zaika husks, openly stroking your trembling pole with her two-toed foot. “I could fuck that tailslit just like one of ours I bet, but that doesn’t connect to your womb does it?” She whimpers at the depraved thought. “Bet you’d like that, skank. Bet you’d like getting fucked in the street like some dumb xeno whore while I knock your stupid, dangly crotch-tits up.” Her tail appears over her shoulder, tightly-packed and ready to go. “Ohh, this is your fault. I just wanted to m-m-milk you, but you had to be so... so... hot!”

A crowd begins to gather, yet the churlish thief only laughs as she circles you. “They can see it too. They can see what a whore you are. That’s why I’m going to fuck you right here, in the street. I’m going to inflate that fat, useless tail of yours while my countrymen cheer me on, and it’s all your fault. If you Rusher’s weren’t walking cum-dumps and milk-tanks, you wouldn’t go around modding yourselves up to obscenity, proudly displaying your sexual equipment to an entire street of onlookers.” She whimpers with barely concealed desire, putting on a dour face for the crowd. “I’ll pump you so full of cum that you’ll be dripping zaika-seed for a week.”

Other aliens may jeer and call out in ripe disdain, but they can’t conceal how their tails wave and wiggle behind them, curling around arms and thighs for a hint of friction. Dewy damp patches appear on their multicolored tail-wrappings, evidence of their true thoughts: jealousy and desire.

They all want to fuck you. Every last zaika. Societal norms hold back their roving appendages for the time being, but the near manic thirst in their eyes when they behold your unleashed malenesses reveals exactly what they’d do to you in private: fuck you back-to-back-to-back until your hyper-sized dick and every other hole in your body is impregnated with thick, zaikan loads.

The presence of the milk thief’s tail against your tip rouses you from your shameful reverie in the most erotic way possible. You can feel it drooling slickness against your urethra, blending it into your own syrupy pre. Jeers and hoots of excitement ring out as the excited zaika urges her rear-mounted organ forward. The first inch of her bulb-shaped apex easily slips inside. The rest, especially the bulbous point just behind, requires vigorous wiggling and the discharge of something warm and wet into your rarely-violated penis-passage, but with a shared gasp of pleasure, you find yourself accepting it with sudden ease and a moan of submissive delight.

“It really is like a tail!” the euphoric rogue calls.

Cheers from the crowd roar back as she plunges her lengthy organ deeper into your urethra. You can feel it snaking through your cum-chute, distending it against the road, yet no matter how forcefully it burrows in, the pleasure only grows. She fucks you in a way your anatomy was never meant to be fucked. Coiling against itself, the turgid tail pulls out and pumps back in, slopping excessive grouts of pre over the closest onlooker’s feet while it works your cumslit open. After a particularly eager thrust, the next backstroke pops the zaika-knot the entire way out, spraying a fan of pre-cum across that same stranger’s front.

Instead of recoiling, the onlooker smiles, her hands busily caressing the stalk of her tail while she watches.

Meanwhile your tool gapes open, weeping mixed lube in obvious excitement. A subconscious clenching of your muscles actually raises it up, eagerly and shamefully angling at the milk-thief to beg for more. You should stop it. You really should. You should push it back down instead biting your pencil-thin lip with a heavy blush and a whimper. You definitely shouldn’t shift to follow her tail’s every motion. Doing that would make you exactly what they all think you are: an eager slut too horny to feel shame.

And here you are, twisting around on the ground to beg for a deeper stroke, acting the part.

“Awww yeaaah,” the cream-thirsty zaika groans as she gets her hands on your tip, marveling at the slick yet firm texture of it. “This really is a whore’s tail.” Her omnigenital plunges into the slick passage while she speaks, tantalizing you with friction in a place your brain was never designed to process. “Bet when I finish up, you’re gonna be dragging it from alley to alley, looking for another dose of Dhaal’s second favorite kind of milk, aren’t you?” She giggles, turning slightly to give her back-mounted genital a better angle with which to plow you.

Indescribable bliss wells up the moment she resumes fucking your unnaturally large, pre-slicked shaft. She goes deeper now. That lengthy tendril reaches far enough inside of you that your cock-head actually plants a slobbery kiss on the small of her back. With each new inch that she claims, new nerves awaken and light up brighter than the neon lights illuminating your humiliation. So much pre pours out on the backstrokes that it almost looks like she’s milking you for it. You’re going to cum soon, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

“So lewd! We only let them come here because they’re top tier tail-drainers, right?” With the audience watching, the cyborg’s words seem to grow crueler by the second. Yet her expression, when she’s looking down at you, seems almost apologetic, like she realizes that things have gotten out of hand but she has no choice but to see it through to the end. She strokes the top side of your phallus while she plows it with faster and faster strokes, barely keeping it together long enough to say, “He’s tighter than a virgin! It’s not right how good this feels!”

True to her words, you can feel her tail swelling within you, thickening and plumping while it pounds deep. Lurid squelches fill the air as the gasping alien’s eyes roll back. Her chest, jaw-dropping and wobbly, bounces as a cup size vanishes like magic, the liquid within routing downward and suddenly, inside you, pumping a hot load directly into roiling depths.

Concealing the signs of pleasure on your face is impossible, especially when taking the milk thief’s load so deep inside your hyper-sized, pre-soaked member forces you straight to a climax of your own. You may cum and clench, but she’s so much more virile than you could hope to be! Those weighty tits of hers are unfair advantage! Like two water towers, they keep her high-pressure spooge flowing in smothering quantities. Internally, you balloon with it, somehow still able to get off while your reproductive juices are suplexed into submission by foreign cream. You whimper when your eyes roll back, but the fullness feels so painfully pleasant that it’s hard to care.

Joyous cries echo off the concrete-like walls. They’re mostly your own, but some of them sound like they’re coming from the audience as well. You writhe in place as more and more zaika sperm infuses your cantaloupe-sized balls, bloating them to ripe tenderness while your muscles spasm in uncoordinated, ecstatic paroxysms. Nothing makes sense but the pleasure, and you content yourself with that.

Acting exactly as they expect you to, you writhe until the milk thief finishes using your tremendously wide, pink prick and pulls out, unleashing a small stream of white-hued backflow. Her chest is noticeably lightened by the act, something she seems proud of when she raises her arms and cheers, “Don’t let the offworlders fool you. Dhaal is every bit as grand as their so-called-core!”

Raucous cheering breaks out while the cyborg leans down to pat your head, stroking you as one might a treasured pet. “I hope to see you again,” she whispers over a high-pitched hum in her heels.

Then, the pavement under you almost shatters as she launches into the sky, leaving you alone with your shame and a steady leak from your slowly-recovering crotch.

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Pub: 21 Aug 2021 01:30 UTC
Edit: 21 Aug 2021 22:42 UTC
Views: 838