Seeder 2 (Patreon)

The conflict between her urges and what remained of her will was unbearable. Karen felt like she was going out of her mind as the two sides waged war on each other, one trying to get her to take her mouth off the foul intruder she was swallowing, the other demanding she gulp down even more of it.

One asked her why she, an eminently beautiful and desirable woman and a hero, should have to put up with mediocre sex like the kind she was still bitterly unsatisfied from? Wasn’t this better than that? Didn’t it feel good?

The other kept saying that this wasn’t her, she was being manipulated, neither she nor Supergirl nor Terra would ever in their right mind indulge in this—

Which was maybe why they’d never before felt something so scintillating, any of them.

Something was affecting her mind, she knew, and it was obviously making her more amenable to what was happening—yet still it was so enjoyable that Karen didn’t know how it could possibly not be real? What was real, anyway?

Wasn’t it possible that she’d only been freed to finally respond to her innermost yearnings? Couldn’t it be that both sides of the conflict were her—or maybe, just maybe, that the voice of lust was really her. The other ‘her’ was just a patchwork of rules and obligations and judgement, society’s outside impositions that she didn’t really care about, she was only pressured into accepting them in lieu of her true feelings, her true self?

Her mind screamed that it was impossible, that this was just another mind-control bit, that the her that did her taxes and did laundry and watched The Office was the real her, not some bimbo getting cocked in every hole she had like Supergirl and Terra had been reduced to. That could never be her!

Yet her body went on in indulging her secret urges, her lips moving along the snake between them, her tongue gathering the droplets that leaked out from the tendril and scorched her taste buds with its sickly sweet flavor.

Karen was dimly aware that Linda and Atlee were ogling her, enjoying the sight of her as much as they enjoyed their own defilement. But the only thing she was truly cognizant of—the only thing that mattered—was the fact that the snake was slowly growing, filling her mouth with its warm, pulsing love.

It was a cock, she knew, a sexual organ, a device for giving women pleasure. And to her addled mind, it was the quintessential cock, the ideal of all cocks everywhere… and she felt like she was sucking off the entire male gender with it in her mouth.

Remembering Atlee, Karen shifted her gaze to the other woman. She saw that she was really going at it now, stroking a tentacle to the same rhythm that Karen was sucking hers—somehow, Karen could tell it was close to coming. Atlee’s eyes were glazed as she watched Karen’s blowjob.

Power Girl wanted to make her young sidekick come by watching her. She knew she could do it. And it was making her so goddamn hot.

Seeing what she was doing, Atlee increased her efforts. Her pistoning hand became a blur on the tentacle it was pleasuring. It dripped with precum—slime—whatever it was. Her fingers traveled easily up and down the length of her chosen massage until it finally erupted, spraying her breasts and face, soaking her with its vividly white ejaculation.

Atlee cried out as if the liquid were scalding her, but when she took her hand away from the tentacle, it was to spread the fluid into her bare skin. All the while, she watched Karen receiving the same treatment she was. She moaned loudly, as if expressing the pleasure Karen couldn’t with the snake in her mouth. Then, taking her hand away from her white-smeared chest, she sucked away at her fingers in time with Karen’s pumping hand.

The snake throbbed steadily in Karen’s mouth, like a drum being pounded and pounded and pounded. Each impactful beat sent shudders of pleasure through her body. She knew it wasn’t a cock—not really—but also could tell it was getting closer and closer to orgasm. She could hardly wait to feel a warm, gushing ejaculation jet right into her throat.

The thought spurred her on, drove her to suck to the point that she barely took time to breath. She dug her fingernails so far into the tentacle’s girth that some warm, oily substance beneath the surface dripped onto her fingernails. Somehow that only aroused her more. Karen had to drink what came out of the snake or she’d die of thirst—that was how much she needed the orgasm she was making well up in that appendage.

Then, just when her need was at its zenith, Karen felt the snake jerk in her mouth—the first gulps of hot ejaculate fill her mouth. She swallowed once, twice, and a third time, greedily accepting as much as she could of the honey-sweet slime into her body. She felt it slide down her throat and enter her demanding belly, filling her stomach to the point of tautness.

Her muscles tightened. Her rosy nipples stood up throbbingly. Her neck muscles bulged and her eyes squeezed shut. Sweat broke out on her forehead. Her jaw clamped shut. Finally, a great moan was wrenched out of her lungs as every muscles in her released in spasm after powerful spasm. Just tasting this… wondrous substance had brought her to orgasm.

That’s it, a voice whispered in her ear, deep and masculine. Suck it all out. Swallow it all down. Fill your belly up as big as it can go. You’ve always been a slut, Karen—this is catnip for sluts.

Her belly bulged out stiffly, as if pregnant, but still the river started to subside before Karen had gotten all she wanted. She grabbed at the tentacle and squeezed it as hard as she could. It gave quite unlike the stiffness of a real cock—more like a water balloon, making it impossible for her to tell if she was milking out more of the seed than she was already getting.

No, it’s the apex predator. The top of the food chain. The thing that hunts whores like you.

Karen’s breathing came in short, hot gasps. Her proud breasts rose and fell with each harsh pant. Her glazed, fuck-drugged brain could only think of more.

You’re not even a delicacy to it. You’re just warm meat. But that’s all you want to be, isn’t it? Just another cock-sheath like Linda and Atlee. Do you even care that it’s fucking them too or are you happy that they get to come as hard as you just did?

Even now, her pleasured satiation was forgotten and she thought about how good more would feel; her contentment crowded out by starving, unsated desire. Her belly and cunt aching in seething unfulfillment. She fell to her hands and knees, crawling deeper into the mass of tentacles in quivering sexual frustration.

“I need… I need more… wait… are you… who’s talking to me right now? You sound familiar. Are you this… are you what’s fucking me?”

Not yet. He spoke with a sly cunning to his speech that let his words slip deep inside her like a knife between her ribs. No, I’m a person. This is just an animal—one that’s evolved to know the best way to prey on whores like you is to give you what you want: a good fucking. That way, you won’t even care when… well, you already don’t care. So why ruin your last couple of days? A solid week of being fucked and sucked every minute of every day seems like a pretty nice way to go out. Especially for a cum dumpster like you.

“I’m not a—not a cum dumpster,” Karen drawled, still finding it hard to think, her eyes blurry, her senses still tingling with the liquid orgasm that covered her naked flesh, seeming to keep her ecstasy at a constant ebb… but the voice was drawing her out of it, refusing to let her slip underneath the din of constant enjoyment.

Yes! her mind cried—her inner voice, this time, not this man who was talking to her. But her own instincts told her to seize onto the stimulation he offered, block out the actions of the creature. Keep talking, keep thinking, and maybe she wouldn’t be fucked to death.

Oh, but you are, Karen. You like nothing more than seeing a big cock and knowing you exist to service it. Let’s face it: that’s what that little tingle of excitement is when you see a hard dick, isn’t it? You know that it’s time to let the weight of the world off your shoulders and just be a nice little cock-holster.

Karen quivered uncontrollably as her sex-crazed mind deciphered the voice’s lewd words among the pawing, fondling churn of the tentacles all around her naked flesh. All those snaking tendrils—they were all going to fuck her. There was nothing she could do about it. Her body was a seething mass of raw desire.

And that’s alright. It’s okay! You’re a really good cock-holster. I enjoy the hell out of fucking you in each and every hole. In fact, you’re such a greedy little cum-slut that you’re able to resist this thing. That’s right—it can’t fuck you enough to satisfy you, but I can. That’s why you’re going to shut this thing down. So I can fuck you instead. And really make you come.

She cried out for release, shamefully writhing with each orgasmic touch, her fingers reaching down to desperately stimulate her unsatisfied cunt. And she knew that she would let these things do whatever they wanted to her, no matter how perverse, so long as they kept her from feeling this unsated fire that was eating away inside her.

She just needed to come one more time, than she’d listen to him, whoever he was… she needed to come so bad…

“Who… who are you?” Karen forced out, trying to reconcile her raging lust with the screaming protests of her mind. Maybe if she kept up her end of the conversation while this thing satisfied her, then… then… something.

Me? I’m no one important. You haven’t even met me yet—not really. But when you do, I’m going to own you in a way these fumbling little feelers never could.