“Five of them,” she states.
“Yes. They smell your womb preparing.” I move closer, noting how she sways toward me involuntarily. “Your body sends out pheromones calling for eggs. Any eggs. They think their weak seed will be enough.”
“Will it?”
“No. You've been modified for specific anatomy. For capacity they can't fill.” My primary cock pulses in its pouch, spurting pre-cum I can't control. It runs down my scales visibly. “Your womb can carry forty eggs. Fifty in prime breeding. Their inferior genetics might give you fifteen before your body rejects them.”
She processes this, hand working between her legs desperately. “And yours?”
“Forty minimum in first clutch. Another twenty in second breeding if you're truly compatible.” I let her smell the truth of it—my body advertising what it can give her. “Full clutches. Viable offspring. What your modification prepared you for.”
“If I wanted that.”
“Your womb already wants it. Contracts for it. Reshapes itself to carry serpentine clutches.” I'm close enough she can see the pre-cum running down my scales. Can smell the eggs insideme waiting. “Tonight they'll try to take you. Three, maybe four at once. Fighting over who breeds first. Weak partial clutches that your body will reject, but only after suffering through the attempts.”
“And my alternative?”
“Choose the male whose body matches your modifications. Whose eggs will actually satisfy what the tonic built you for.” I set down medicine that will clear her mind enough to think. “Survive tonight. Tomorrow we resolve this properly.”
“Properly?”
“You deserve breeding that means something. Not desperate rutting by juveniles who only smell pussy. You deserve someone who sees the mind it's attached to.”
Something shifts in her eyes. Not surrender. Recognition that I see her as more than a womb to fill. Even though filling it is all my body wants.
“Keep them away tonight,” she says finally. “Tomorrow you show me what you're offering.”
“Tomorrow you'll see everything. Make your choice with full information.”
“Everything?”
“My cocks. Both of them. What they'll do inside you. How long it takes. What carrying my eggs means.” I back away before my control breaks entirely. “Survive tonight first.”
She nods, still fingering herself, eyes tracking the pre-cum trail I'm leaving. Her body knows what it means. Knows what's waiting.
KASS
Iwake to pressure around my ribs that has nothing to do with arousal.
Can't breathe. Can't move. Something massive squeezes tighter with each exhale, denying the next inhale. My hands claw at scales—not mottled brown, thick as my arm. Bog constrictor. The apex predator that isn't sentient.
My vision spots black at the edges. The modified biology that keeps me constantly wet and desperate doesn't help against being crushed. My weapons are six feet away—might as well be miles. The creature's body wraps me three times, each coil perfectly placed to compress organs.
I'm going to die horny and unfucked. Tommy. His face in that courtroom. The memory of the execution order—the reason I’m here. The price of his life was my body. A debt I’m still paying.
The pressure increases. Ribs creak. One cracks—hot spike of pain through the constant sexual ache. My mouth opens in a scream that has no air behind it.
Then everything explodes in white-gold violence.
Vhaz hits the constrictor from above, all thirty-three feet of serpentine fury. His hood extends fully—something I haven't seen before. Wider than my shoulders, marked with patternsthat scream danger in every language. His fangs—Christ, his fangs—longer than my fingers, dripping clear venom that sizzles where it hits earth.
He strikes three times faster than my eyes can track. Precision hits at nerve clusters I didn't know existed. The constrictor spasms, loosens just enough for me to suck in one desperate breath.
Then Vhaz coils around both of us.
The power in his body makes the constrictor look like a garden snake. Muscle ripples under scales as he applies calculated pressure, using the constrictor's own technique against it. I'm caught between them—prey sandwich—but somehow his coils protect me while destroying the threat.
The constrictor goes limp. Dead in seconds from venom and trauma.
