The Enterprise Parasite | By : codysaoyrn Category: Star Trek > Star Trek Views: 6957 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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Kirk refused to waste any more time worrying or grieving. If he wanted to save Spock, Bones, and the others from this bizarre parasite, he had to shake off the bizarre lethargy the parasite's fluids seemed to have given him and charge out there to defend his ship and crew. Kicking aside the crumpled metal, all that was left of the lift door, he leapt out of the small room—and promptly slipped in an all-too-familiar puddle. Once he regained his footing, he looked around with eyes wide; this was more than he had expected.
The parasite was indeed a monster, with a multitude of enormous tentacles extending from a fleshy, Horta-sized mass. Its appendages and body were covered in a film, or slime, that helped it move quickly, whether across land or into its victims. For every lump-covered tentacle molesting a crew member, there was another tearing apart complicated equipment.
Scott's fit of rage over the treatment of the ship was half-hearted, his attention diverted somewhat by the rough treatment of his holes. Protests muffled and limbs restrained, Scott had no choice but to submit to the pounding he was being given, moans escaping around the tentacle in his mouth as the one in his asshole stretched it more than he had ever thought possible.
Despite his responsibilities as captain during a crisis (and this was certainly a crisis), Kirk couldn't take his eyes off the parasite's abuse of Scott. Whether it was due to the alien pheromones pervading the entire bridge, or something else within himself that he still didn't want to admit to, Kirk couldn't say.
The way Scott's lips, pink with exertion, were wet with a mixture of his own spit and the parasite's semen was the first thing to hold Kirk's attention. But then the engineer bucked in reaction to a particularly fierce thrust, his torn uniform revealing a nipple here and an attractively hirsute torso there, and Kirk's eyes traveled downwards.
The parasite's efforts to get to Scott's nether regions had torn his pants, revealing a cock that, if slightly below average in length, made up for it in girth. Every motion made Scott's whole body quiver, indicating a clear readiness to cum, but Kirk had had his fill of semen. What he was really interested in was the seeming physical impossibility that was Scott's ability to take a two-inch-diameter tentacle up his ass.
Suddenly, the tentacle was yanked out with enough speed to make Scott scream, his asshole gaping wide as the shock pushed him over the edge.
Kirk ducked the alien-induced fountain of cum, shaking off the strange reverie he had been in, and resumed his efforts to locate the bridge personnel. If he could rescue Scott somehow, he would, but the parasite had immediately resumed fucking Scott before the man had had a chance to recover from the effects of its semen-venom. He would keep an ear out for sounds of extreme distress, however, and rush back if Scott seemed to be in real trouble.
Slumped over what remained of the helm was Sulu, fortunately no longer under attack. His breathing was shallow, but Kirk checked his pulse and found it steady. A cursory look for injuries found no wounds; cum dribbling steadily out of his exposed cock and distended asshole were the only obvious signs of anything amiss.
Uhura, splayed on her back near the captain's chair, was in a similar condition. Her uniform was hiked up and her undergarments gone, revealing that both her holes were loose with abuse, semen puddled around her lower body. Every now and then, a gush of clear juice would spurt from her vagina, proving that the parasite's effect of involuntary and exaggerated ejaculation held true for all sexes.
Shaking his head, Kirk ticked off his mental checklist. That left Chekov, McCoy, and Spock. Wherever Chekov was in the room, he would survive—after all, the boy was familiar with the parasite's tactics, not to mention that there was no definite proof yet of the parasite's assaults ending in death. That meant that McCoy was the next priority; Spock's Vulcan strength gave Kirk confidence in his endurance, even if there was still a part of him that felt an unbearable agony at not knowing Spock's exact condition.
The bridge room was not that big, which meant that the issue was whether McCoy (or Spock) was being hidden from sight by the parasite. Kirk, phaser firmly in hand, advanced slowly around its side, hoping it was occupied enough by Scott to not notice him. When he reached the vantage point of Uhura's station, he peered through the waving tentacles—and froze.
"Spock—what do...you think you're doing?!"
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