“Cynthia, you’re sounding better than the last time we spoke.” Cynthia Carter ground her teeth in frustration and anger as she listened to the unnaturally haughty and charismatic voice of Devin Powell. The only reason she did not hang up was the fact that as of a minute ago, he was her employer. “What do you want, Powell?” She growled, her vocal cords grinding together as she spoke causing her voice to sound rough and gravelly through the receiver. “I have a data extraction for you. A research facility went dark about a week ago, we’re cutting our losses on the personnel, but the data, that is another thing entirely.” Carter grimaced as she listened to his pitch. Whenever a company decided that all personnel were lost was normally when something went so hilariously tits up that no amount of CorpSec goons could sort it out.

“What’s the payout?” She said, knowing full well that was what Powell wanted to hear. “250 million, plus a 50 million expense account to be cleared by me and Security Director Cho.” Already she could see the dollar signs clouding her vision but there was something else to this. 250 million was a drop in the bucket for Paralaxia, they owned or operated hundreds of subsidiaries across the galaxy, both public and off the books. But to blow 20 million on a simple data job, this was something that Paralaxia did not want to come to light. “I take it most of that is hush money?” Carter asked, noting the pause before Powell spoke. “Yes, and because there is a fair degree of hazard to this job as well. There was a containment breach at this facility and specimens got out. We’re looking at between 90 to 100% casualty rate among staff and biocontamination of about 60% of the facility before internal sensors failed.”

Carter mulled this over, weighing her options as various screens flicked across her office. She had already taken the job just by picking up, but to clean up this mess would require some serious firepower. Already, she had expanded her roster to include about a platoon of ex-Legionnaires who were new players in the realm of wet work, and had some leads on breaching shuttles, all of which would be financed by Paralaxia. “Where’s the facility?” She said, watching a new window pop up, this one baring the crisp, clinical logo of Paralaxia Biomedical. She opened it and muttered under her breath. “You had to build it in the ass end of space on the other side of the fucking galaxy.” She was more than annoyed with this turn of events. All the information she received was wired directly to her planning and coordination department, which returned initial figures within seconds of receiving them. “Naturally, we had to stay out of prying eyes, and where do the big players never go?” Powell retorted. Carter could see the smug grin of self-proclaimed brilliance, and without the actual person to punch it off, she could do nothing but sigh in exasperation.

“You do realize that will take at least six months to organize this retrieval and arrive at Ishtar, plus another week to actually arrive over that godforsaken rock. For all I know, whatever got loose in your facility could be starving and waiting for its next meal to come served up on a sliver platter.” Carter said, consulting the star maps, charts, and hyperspace lanes. All of them conveniently omitted the Ishtar system, no doubt at the behest of Paralaxia’s rather extensive bank accounts. “I would be lying if I didn’t say that things are on their way to levels of clusterfuck that we haven’t seen in years. But its still containable.” Powell said, though the tone of his voice did little to alleviate Carter’s growing sense of unease. “And if things go south, you have cart blanche to utilize whatever force you deem necessary to either finish the job or erase all traces of its existence.”

“And what if I just choose to nuke the entire site from orbit, data be damned?” Carter asked, noting the look of mild annoyance on Powell’s face as she absentmindedly sent ammunition requisitions to logistics and the recruit dossiers to personnel. “Then you only get enough to cover the trip there and back. This job is predicated on your getting the data, if you don’t and I don’t see a damn good reason why, you’ll be lucky you get a courtesy fee as your Christmas bonus.” Carter mulled this over before she her hand massaged the lump of scare tissue to that made up her cheek and chin. “Deal, but I want one last thing,” She said. “I want a full regen treatment. I don’t want to go the rest of my life looking like the Bride of Frankenstein, hobbling around on crutches because of that shit you let loose.” “Deal.”

Carter blinked for a moment, taken aback at how readily Powell had agreed. Regen was expensive and in her prior dealings with Powell, she knew him to be notoriously tight fisted. Every instinct of hers was scream to end the call and cancel, but the opportunity that lay before her, it was too good to pass up. “How soon do I start.” She asked, finally broaching the silence. “As soon as I disconnect.” Powell said, the screen going dark as the realization of what she agreed to set in. Her hands quivered in a mix of fear, anger, and ecstasy. Slowly, she dialed each section of her company, telling them to be ready to deploy.

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Coughing. Darkness. Then a blinding light, freezing cold, and a deep, throbbing pain hit her without mercy. Farah stumbled out of the cryopod, landing hard on the corrugated steel walkway and as her body tried to remember how to function. At 32 years old, Farah possessed a patchwork of scars across her body, though it did little to draw attention away from her impressive, Spartan-like physic. It was product of life in Aphrodite’s Legion, though coming out of hibernation would take a toll even on the most physically fit of humanity. Her naturally bronzed skin shivered from her body temperature slowly climbed to a normal core temperature and condensation, both from the air and her cryopod ran off her body in rivulets. Blood trickled from her lip before something sharp pricked her neck and what felt like electricity ran through her body. Her fight or flight response immediately kicked in, and as with all Hypatians, she chose flight. Without thinking, she lunged at the pain, tackling it to the ground as her hands dug into its neck. A boot hit her stomach, lifting her off the thing and sending her sprawling along the walkway next to it. She curled into a fetal position as she vomited a thick sludge of blood, half frozen bile, and a biological antifreeze

“Jesus, Doc, she almost killed you.” A voice said as the coughing thing eventually took the shape of a spindly little man in a corpsman’s uniform. He clutched his throat as he pulled himself to his feet, using the railing of the walkway for support. His free hand pointed at the medical bag, now strewn about at her feet. The other one, a broad-shouldered Samoan who was built like a bull and holding a long-barreled hand cannon to Farah’s head, picked up an ampule and jabbed it in her arm. Farah felt herself come down hard from the adrenaline high as military grade sedatives forced her to mellow out, dulling the pain as her body went numb for a moment. “Fuck!” She coughed, limply pulling the ampule from her arm, and despite her better judgement, hurling it at the man.

It bounced harmlessly off the walkway and skidded to rest at the bullish man’s boot. She let out a terse, unamused chuckle as the doctor put a cap on the needle and dropped it into a hazmat bag. “Fucking hell, I didn’t expect this newest batch to respond so poorly to defrosting.” The doctor said, his voice hoarse and pained as he gathered up his supplies, including a flask of something that he immediately took a swig from. “Doc, you really smuggled that thing aboard?” The Amazonian woman asked, through now Farah could see the insignia of not only Blackburn MilCorp, but also the rank of master sergeant pinned to the lapels of his imposing goon uniform. “Fuck.” Farah croaked, the pain in her core transitioning to a dull pulse as she took long ragged breaths. This elicited a humorless chuckle from the sergeant as she holstered her weapon. “Well, she can speak.” She said. “Corporal, you attempted to kill a superior, what do you have to say for yourself?” Farah knew that while she was in the shit, it was not as deep as Sergeant Major Ioane was making it out to be. “My apologize, Sergeant Major,” she said. “But protocol states that any and all thawing procedures need to be carried out in the chamber where risk of harm to all parties is reduced to a minimal acceptable threshold.” Sergeant Major Ioane still smiled as she slapped the corpsman upside the head. “Good answer. Now head to your bunk and get changed, we’re here.”

Farah already knew that “here” was a relative term, it could take weeks once a ship exited transspacial travel before it reached its destination. She had been on dozens of combat missions before signing up with Blackburn, each one had taken the better part of a month before combat deployment commenced. Farah milled with the other freshly thawed grunts, each one milling their way through the cramped corridor as they searched for their bunks. The ship’s day/night cycle was set for Terran standard, and despite being asleep for almost a year in a glorified ice box, her body was extremely fatigued from the dehybernation process. It was never a pleasant experience, and had it gone wrong, like it almost did, chances are she would dead, either from a severe cerebral hemorrhage, or from a .50 caliber slug turning her brains to slurry.

Behind her, there were sounds of screaming before two gunshots, driving the point home that each time she went into the pods, there was a risk she wouldn’t come out. Her discharge from the Legion was expressly because of that, she had killed a fellow legionnaire while suffering from temporary psychosis. Charges were dropped as it was ruled that protocol had not been followed resulting in temporary insanity, but all it took was one incident and she was kicked to the curb. Civilian life had been hard to adjust too, even with her pension. It was not the cost of everything as it was easily covered with discounts and pensions, but it was the chaos and uncertainty that dogged her. Farah had gone from one job to another, trying to find something that filled that hole in her life. Even trying to form relationships outside her squad and command group was tough. No one wanted to stick with a damaged war veteran, and the veteran’s hospital had all but given up on her. But when the offer from Blackburn arrived on her doorstep, she jumped at the chance of something even remotely resembling what she left, now she was wondering if she regretted it.

Farah did not notice when she arrived at her berth, though the spartan interior to be more inviting than the home she went back to after discharge. Even the bootcamp that Blackburn put her through, rushed as it was, had not been all that much out of the ordinary either, in fact, Farah had slept better during induction into Blackburn than she had in months. But even as she lay in bed, there was a feeling gnawing at the back of her mind. She had a chance at a normal life, and yet here she was, throwing it away to go fight another war for corporate dollars. She wondered if the other ex-legionnaires who signed up with this felt the same. Deciding to tackle that dilemma on a day she had money to even think about stuff like that, she closed her eyes. Farah woke as the claxon sounded, a holoscreen open with a message telling her to report to the med bay for a follow up shot of stimulants. This became the routine for the next several days as the ship made its way towards Ishtar IX, wake up, report somewhere, do something, and prep. The fourth day gave Farah a pleasant surprise. A full set of Stryga Mk. XV combat armor and new rail rifles were issued by the quartermaster.

Each squad drilled in holosims preprogrammed with the layout of the station, along with whatever sick creations the instructors thought Paralaxia could dream up. One after another, for three days the teams drilled and trained before they finally reached Ishtar IX. At 0300 hours, Terran time, the alarm sounded and each team shuffled to the loading bay, loading their equipment onto the Gladius breaching shuttles, then boarding themselves. Farah was not certain if briefings from the CEO were standard procedure, but she listened intently to every word. She regrated that shortly afterwards. It was clear that whatever they were dropping into was nasty and alien to normal taxonomized life in the galaxy, though the message tried to make it sound like a standard issue bug hunt.

Farah did not like it, but as the hatch closed and the engines spooled up, she had no choice but to swallow her apprehension. When the shuttles launched, there was a sudden sense of weightlessness before the inertia drive kicked in. The cabin was dimly illuminated in red, though she could see the looks of consternation and unease on everyone in her squad. The person next to her, a Latin female named Noriega, said the Hail Mary under her breath while thumbing his rosery. The woman across from her, a thin, wiry woman of African descent the squad called Mama Calista, muttered prayers to Haitian Voodoo deities, though the names were just as foreign as the Creole she spoke.

Farah had not been particularly religious before she joined, and still was reluctant about buying into the whole concept of gods and deities, but she had lived through enough to know it never hurt. “Whoever, or whatever, you are, don’t let me die on this mission...” She mumbled before the metallic whine from the drill mounted on the front of the Gladius rolled into motion, drowning out all other noise. This was followed by an impact that jolted everyone forward before a second, lighter impact halted the shuttle. There was a shudder as the magnetic clamps sealed the craft to the breach point and throughout the hull, reverberations of similar impacts rippled through the hull. Each trooper unlatched from their seat and formed into their breaching formation as the drill fell off and the ramp lowered. Over nine dozen flashlights pierced as the initial strike force checked corners and blind spots. Everyone was on edge as HUDs switched between thermal and infrared, looking for anything that might want to make a meal of them, but nothing came.

A scream followed by the discharge of a rail rifle and loud, terrified cursing brought Farah’s squad rushing to the aide of another. All their flashlights shone on what looked like an overgrown cockroach that had been reduced to the consistency of chunky salsa. A merc was pushing himself against a pair of cargo containers, panting and swearing violently as she kept his weapon trained on the corpse. Before anyone had a chance to ask her what happened, someone found the light switch and flipped it on. Bright, fluorescent white lights illuminated the cargo bay, bringing with it more screams, curses, and weapons discharge. Other squad reported similar creatures and no major physical injuries, though someone thought to mention that one of their squaddies wounded his pride when one creature scurried out from under some exposed pipes.

Soon, the main force arrived, bringing with it more troopers and equipment and teams were sent out to clear routes to mission objectives. One by one, squads disappeared into the darkness as some reported contact with more easily killed creatures and others reported no resistance. By the time the hanger complex was secured, the overall mood was the operation was going to be a cake walk. Farah’s squad mobilized and left the hanger for a tram station that would take them to the admin and research wings of the complex, encountering the messy aftermath of whatever bug was too slow to move out of the way. “This is going to be an easy op. I can tell.” One of her squad mates, a woman who looked like he could be Ioane’s cousin said, his voice confident as he strode past Farah without much worry. “If something was going to hit us, it already would have, and we’d still be fighting in the Hanger right now.”

No one did anything to stop him as he continued talking, explaining that whatever got loose here was probably dead, starving, or smart enough to stay hidden. No one openly disagreed or offered any counterpoint, not even Farah, though she figured everyone else appreciated the optimism. The squad reached the tram without incident, though the squad that was currently guarding the entrance was on high alert. Farah approached the perimeter with her sergeant, a fellow legionnaire named Moores, they were met with reports of squads that had previously went ahead going missing. All eyes turned to the Samoan as she turned a pale, muttering under her breath about it still being easy so far. Moores ordered the squad to be on alert, though seeing as most of them were Hypatians, alert was a state of normalcy for them. As the tram moved down the line, strange mosses and lichens coated the wall and traces of webbing that previous trips had dislodged.

The tram arrived at what looked more like a forest than what would normally be a reception area. The same strange moss and lichen that had started to creep towards the hanger covered the floor and what was left of the furniture. Strange black nodules sprouted from the lichen in clusters, and when prodded, the surface of the nodules was found to be pliable, though what was inside remained unknown. Farah shined her flashlight up towards the skylight, though it had been caked over with grime and in areas, the lichen had started to creep in. More cobwebs littered the gantries, light fixtures, and empty spaces between railings. “Guess they were experimenting with big spiders.” Farah said, shuddering as the thought of fighting overgrown eight-legged freaks in tight corridors flashed through her mind. “Seems like it…” Replied the Samoan, panning her flashlight from doorway to doorway. Farah scanned the cobwebbed balcony walkways, catching a glimmer of movement as she fixated on that area. “Corporal, we’re leaving, form up and take point. Noriega, you take the rear.” Sergeant Moores said, calling her squad into position. “We need to make it to the data vault on the double or we don’t get our bonuses.” Farah nodded and jogged to the front of the formation, leaving the Samoan and Noriega to take up the rear.

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Noriega turned her back for a moment as she took up rear guard, letting the Samoan go first as she took a moment to survey the room one last time. Turning around, she saw the Samoan standing motionless, her arms gripping something around her neck, though whatever it was, she could not get it off. “Serg-!” She started to yell before webbing shot down from one of the balconies, striking her in the chest as it knocked her flat. Just then, she saw the culprits. Two, large arthopoidal creatures had appeared on the third floor balcony, each one with a string of webbing leading from themselves to each of the two troopers. One began using its clawed pedipalps to pull the webbing up to itself, lifting the Samoan into the air like it was a puppet. Noriega screamed as her own webbing gave a sharp jerk, dragging her along the ground and towards the creature. She grabbed hold of one of the plants, hoping the stalk would hold long enough for the rest of her squad to reach her, however her grip was starting to slip and even if the web ripped off her chest plate, her legs had become tangled in it when she grabbed the plant.

“NORIEGA!” She heard the voice of Moores yell, watching her squad reenter the reception area. “What the fuck?!” Mama Calista said, taking aim at something across the room. “Multiple hostiles!” Another yelled as the mercs opened up with their rail rifles. Sergeant Moores ran over to Noriega, sliding the last few feet just as her grip slipped. Noriega felt herself go airborne as time seemed to slow. Moores hand was just out of reach, and now there was nothing to save her. She dropped her rifle to grab the plant, and even as Moores picked up hers to draw a bead on the creature that had taken her, it had already retreated to behind the railing, obscuring it from the squad. “HELP ME!” Noriega screamed as she ascended, though the look in the Sergeant’s eye told her that there was no help coming. Even as she crested the lip railing, Noriega still cried for help, until she saw the thing up close.

It was large, almost twice her size with body resembled a Terran spider; eight long, spindly legs radiated out from its thorax attached to a large abdomen at the end of the creatures body. However, that was where the similarities ended. The first two legs were multisegmented with large pincers on the end of each one, and below its torso and thorax was a tail, though whether or not it was truly a tail was unknown. However, that was not the most damning thing. Its head was nothing more than a large, sphincterous mouth with six digits surrounding it radially. From this pulsing mass of exposed muscle, three tendrils slithered out, each one was a soft pink color and about as thick as her forearm, dripping with slime. Noriega heard muffled moans and the sound of gulping to her right, though she did not want to take her eyes off the creature, her curiosity got the better of her and she glanced.

A terrified scream left her lips as she saw the Samoan, her face drawn into the maw with something large bulging against the color of her armor. Even worse, something was being pumped into her friend as she sat in a nearly catatonic state. “NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!” She screamed, turning back to the creature before her and struggling against the webbing that bound her legs together. She one tendril shot forward, stinging her neck right below her jaw as it pulsed. The pain was momentary before it was replaced by a growing numbness that seemed to radiate down throughout her body concentrating on the left before slowly spreading to the right. In desperation, she grabbed the tendril with her right arm, trying to get a firm grasp on the smooth, slime coated appendage before that arm was stung by the other tendril. Her body . “Please no…” She mumbled, realizing that his very well was her fate. Her body felt like numb static as she tried to struggle, motor control failed her as a growing feeling in her core and loins seemed to indicate some form of arousal. “No!” She thought, trying to banish the feeling as fear spread through her mind. “I can’t be getting off to this!”

The third tendril snaked towards her mouth, hot slime spilling from it as she closed her mouth, clenching her jaw as best she could in defiance. It brushed against her mouth as it smeared the slime across her lips. The smell hit her before the taste, musky and strong she felt the urge to gag rise from her gut. She tried to fight it back down but to late did she realize her jaw relaxed from the clench and the tendril pushed in. The slime tasted almost as foul as it smelled, the taste of seminal fluid and salt permeated her mouth as it began to slither down her throat. Her gag reflex only seemed to excite the creature more as it fed Noriega more and more of its length, the slime acting as lubricant for its journey. She felt her throat begin to bulge against the collar of her armor as creature seemed to mimic a thrusting motion, turning this experience into some sort of twisted mockery of a blowjob and a French kiss. The creature used two of its legs to pin her arms spread her arms and pin them against the wall, then came the pincers, snipping away at the combat armor and polymer mesh that kept it attached to her body.

Her breasts, while not heavy like that of her squad mates or even the Samoan, still fell into her bra as her chest plate was removed from her body, followed by the rest of her jacket falling to pieces. Soon, that too was torn away by the surprisingly deft pincers. Two more legs, the third and seventh respectively, clipped away the webbing that bound her legs and pulled her legs apart, allowing the creature to remove her groin plate. Noriega shuddered as she felt the two tendrils brush against the folds of her labia. As much as she wanted to deny it, Noriega found herself growing wetter and wetter as the finger like appendages surrounding its mouth found purchase behind her head and pulled her against the slime covered hole that was its mouth. She gagged again as the smell of its musky slime grew stronger in her noise, though the lack of oxygen seemed to amplify the feeling almost tenfold.

Her body felt like it was burning up all the while as to her dismay, Noriega found starting to suck on the tendril in her mouths, her cries of protests had unknowingly been replaced by moans of pleasure with the occasional groan of discomfort as it wiggled inside, stretching her esophogus more than she was used too. The two tendrils slithered and jostled against her labia as one managed to briefly penetrate her fertile valley. Hot slime coated the walls of her vaginal canal, doing its work as the tendril slowly and deliberately thrusted deeper and deeper into her body. The motion alone sent shudders of pleasure and bliss up her spine even before the aphrodisiac laced slime could get to work. The other tendril retreated from her groin and slithered up and around her breasts. The tip spilled slime across her skin as it toyed and fondled with Noriega’s c cup breasts, smearing slime across the skin as her body shuddered with pleasure.

Both the tendril in her mouth and in her pussy thrusted in disjointed rhythm, sending alternating waves of pleasure up her spine like tidal waves crashing against the shore of reason. Noriega knew she should not feel good from this, but the pleasure was becoming almost overwhelming by the time the first orgasm came. Then the second rolled in and crashed against the crumbling bulwark of her mind, flooding it with even more ecstasy and pleasure. Her body numbed as it was, quivered and spasmed with each successive orgasm until the creature filled her with its hot juices. This was not the same slime that coated her tingling skin, but a thick, heavy slurry that was pumped into her womb and stomach. She felt both gradually fill as each pulse sent more of the heavy fluid into her body until she was left with a small bulge in her belly. All the while the one fondling her chest reared back and sprayed the thick, white fluid across her core. The tendrils in her mouth and slip pulled out for a moment as the creature releases her face from its grip. Noriega gasped and coughed as strands of slime and slurry dripped from her lips. Her hair hung in slime-soaked strands around her face as her body twitched and shuddered leaking the warm slurry into the puddle of her juices lying stagnant between her legs. Noriega slowly looked to her left as she coughed and gagged, feeling her throat cry out in pain and pleasure. She gasped when she saw what happened to the Samoan, not from conscious fear or terror, but from lust and ecstacy.

Her squad mate’s once Amazonian frame had bulged to where she looked almost 9 months pregnant as she let out muffled moans of lust and pleasure. The creature that had captured her was in the middle of cocooning its prey, slowly turning her gravid body beneath its as white silk slowly enveloped her. Slowly and carefully, the creature wrapped the silk around her heavy breasts and bloated belly, pressing them in just enough to elicit a muffled moan of pleasure from Noriega’s former squad mate. Once she was fully cocooned, the creature moved her towards one of the strange plants that grew around the reception area. Slowly, tendrils coiled around the cocooned frame and drew it headfirst into what looked like a bell. She saw her squad mate engulfed by plant, tentacles pushing it deeper until it disappeared beneath the carpet of moss it grew from.

Something prodded against Noriega’s cheek and, expecting it to be one of the tendrils the creature called its tongue, found herself starring down the segmented and smooth tail. Seminal fluid oozed from the tip as it prodded her mouth, but instead of resistance, Noriega opened wide and allowed the jointed limb to push into her mouth and down her throat. Her throat strained as she felt her throat bulge even more than when she deep throated the tendril, thought this pushed deeper until she felt it in her sternum. Then, she felt it pulse. At first it was just more seminal fluid that pulsed down, coating the rest of her esophagus, then she saw the bulges begin travelling down its length. She stared wide eyed at the pool ball sized orbs travelling one after another down its length and towards her mouth. Her protest was half-hearted and muffled as she worried that it wouldn’t fit through her mouth, but as the first pushed against her lips, she felt her jaw strain as it was stretched wider before it popped into her mouth.

One after another, the orbs rolled through her mouth and down into her esophagus, depositing themselves in the slurry that filled her stomach. They were not hard, but soft and malleable as they popped into her stomach, each one sending a strange rumbling throughout her core as her stomach gurgled. Slowly, she felt herself begin to bulge even further as the outline of some became visible through her skin, but still the creature fed her more and more until with one last pulse it pulled out only to have one of the tendrils take its place. Noriega came more than once during that ordeal, though this time, she wanted it. As the tendril pushed back into her throat, Noriega leaned forward as best she could, sucking and swallowing the appendage as it began to once again fill her stomach with the hot, thick slurry.

The creature turned its attention to her slit next, pushing the thick ovipositor past her pussy lips and deep into her cervix with one stroke. Noriega felt it brush against the entrance of her womb as something pushed past her cervix and entered her uterus as the orbs once again traveled down the length of the ovipositor. Noriega felt each one pause for a moment as pressure built against the entrance of her lips, and then again at the entrance of her cervix until pop after pop, each one was deposited in the fluid that filled her womb. Her belly continued to grow steadily as egg after egg sent waves of pleasure radiating her body, soon, each egg brought forth an orgasm as her body trembled almost continuously from unfettered pleasure.

Even when the last egg was deposited, Noriega continued to tremble and spasm with orgasmic pleasure, the feeling of the eggs rolling inside her being enough to send her over the edge. Once she was filled with more of the slurry, both tendrils pulled out from her body, allowing the screams of pleasure to echo through the reception hall. Unbeknownst to her, her screams were head by another squad before the creature sprayed webbing into her face, muting her as it pulled her underneath its body. Webbing flowed freely as it was spun into a cocoon. Her muffle groans barely pierced the thick silk as she felt it wrap her breasts and belly, trapping her arms to her sides as it then set to work on her legs. By the time it was done, one could barely tell the trembling, white mass was once a Blackburn mercenary, as it carried it to the same plant its partner deposited its prey into. It watched dispassionately as the tendrils brought the prey into its maw, slowly swallowing it as it pleasured the female, further wearing down resistance if any remained. Once its legs had disappeared into the plant’s maw, the creature left the new playthings to other creatures the master created as it had spent itself on the female.

Noriega felt the peristaltic pulses of the plant pushing her to somewhere unknown. Her cocoon and the tattered remnants of her uniform slowly dissolved in the plant’s juices, but she did not notice it and even if she had, there was nothing that she could do to stop it. In a brief moment of lucidity, Noriega found herself coughing and sore, lying in a puddle of some strange liquid that tasted like pickle brine. She sputtered and coughed as she hauled herself to her hands and knees, the muffled moans and cries of ecstatic birth hitting her ears. Looking up, she found women, likely victims from other squads cocooned from head to hip and suspended in a breeding position in the air. Webs permeated the area, radiating out from a large burrow where emerged like the one that captured here, but larger and more imposing.

This sight triggered a brief moment of primal fear in Noriega, as her instincts forced her to scramble away from the Intai Juhen monstrosity. Unfortunately, webbing once again hit her and pulled her across the mossy ground towards the creature’s underbelly. Tendrils, longer and thick than what were obviously its children, snaked out from its maw, stinging and prodding Noriega’s body as it cocooned her head and torso. One of the creature’s claws grabbed Noriega by the midsection, avoiding her belly, and lifted her towards the webbing. A tendril from something larger, resting on the ceiling, slithered down as the progeny of the matriarch attached Noriega to the web, spreading her legs to make it easier to birth and breed. The tentacle bloomed as it latched onto her nose and mouth, sending smaller tendrils into her nostrils and one large one onto her mouth. The progeny then wrapped her head in silk, attaching the tendril to her as it began feeding her tainted air and a nutrient sludge. Even though she did not realize it, across from her rested the Samoan, caught in the throws of an powerful orgasm as she birthed a new generation of the arachnoidal Inju constructs.