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Spermatosaurus Corruption

For Mohrahk

By Draconicon

Speech was beyond him. Moh didn't know what had happened - well, no, he did know what had happened. He just didn't know how it had happened.

Spermatosaurus...

He was able to think of the word, even though thinking was particularly hard at the moment. The dread that the word had attached to it in his memory was all that he needed to bring it to mind, a dread that had been left there ever since his visit to the agency. Vasilisa had told him to get this registered, controlled, but it was clear that the medication was doing nothing to keep it under control. Just a few hours with her, and he had gone almost all the way back to the beast that he had been in the forest.

Almost. He could still think. Back then, he couldn't. No chance to think, no chance to try and make it better. No wanting it to be better.

Yet...

Yet, the Kotyavir looked at him with the same heat in her eyes that he could see in the rest of her body. She was burning up with need, her body aching with it, her pussy wet as he had ever seen it.

Why?

He didn't understand it. All he knew was that he needed to get away, needed to run before...before...

The sergal groaned, his changing body pushing him to stay, his balls aching, so full despite cumming over and over and over again. He wanted to get back down on his hands and knees, wanted to shove Vasilisa back into the doggy style position to keep rutting her. He wanted to slam her down and be the dominant beast that she seemed to crave so much, to keep fucking her, jamming his cock into her again and again and again and -

"Moh..."

Her voice was soft, sultry, but there was a slight crack in it. She wanted him to stay, but she was barely keeping control of herself. The heat wasn't just her body heat, he realized. She was in heat.

He tried to run, but his arms and legs wouldn't obey. Something invisible held them, something...

Something that Vasilisa was controlling.

"Mmmph?"

He couldn't even speak to question her, just nodded his eyeless head towards her outstretched hand. The question was clear enough for her.

"I'll fix it...I can control it...I can control you, if I have to...But you...you will give me..."

She was panting hard, and he could see the effort she was going through to try and hold him down. Whatever this magic was, whatever she was doing to him, she was holding onto it by the skin of her teeth. Any distraction more...

Distraction...pleasure...

Not sure if he was driven by desperation or by the corruptive, weird things happening to his body, the blinded sergal slowly pushed his tongue free. Even that was different, the tip split ever so slightly, and little barbs pushing out through it. He extended it towards her, and the Kotyavir stared at him, at his tongue, her eyes widening in annoyance and arousal at the same time.

At least, that's what he guessed was happening. It was hard for him to see and judge correctly with vision that only saw heat.

He lowered his tongue, dragging it along her thighs. She twitched, her muscles tensing, and she clenched her fist all the tighter. He could feel her power rooting him to the spot, keeping him from moving from her, keeping him from running away. It was like chains on his arms and legs...

But it did nothing to stop his tongue.

Flick, flick, flick it went, further and further up between her thighs. He heard her breath catch, felt her leg muscles twitch the higher that he went. It was getting closer and closer to her pussy, closer and closer to her core of pleasure. He could taste her, the thick, hot fluid running from her sex making him want to leap on her and breed her again, and again. Only the taste of his own seed kept him from giving in, reminding him of what he'd done.

As his tongue found her clit, he wondered. Was it a bit bigger? Was his seed capable of doing other things to other people? Impregnating them, obviously, but...more?

He shivered, not wanting to think about that. He was already a monster. He didn't want to be more of a monster.

But to get away...

Moh jabbed his tongue up, and it hit her right on the clit. She gasped, her hand flopping open, and it was exactly the opportunity that he was waiting for. Moh jumped for the window, slamming into it hard enough to break the glass. Whether it was speed that carried him to safety or a thicker hide than he'd had before, he didn't know, but he was through the window and on the ground outside in seconds. He darted around the alley, shooting down the street and staying out of sight as best he could.

"Moh...Mohrahk! Get back here, Moh!"

The shouts of the Kotyavir faded as he ran down the alleys, his head hanging low. He barely had anything left to his name, now. The pants that had been shredded during the transformation barely hung from his ankles, and his shirt was long gone. He didn't know what had happened to him, but...but it had taken almost everything.

Almost. Almost everything.

Pills...maybe...maybe slow...

His hands were so clumsy as he rooted through his pockets, and the constant distraction of his body's needs were getting to him, making it hard for him to think. His body wanted to breed, to go back to Vasilisa and show her just what this body could do. He wanted to go and show her what it would take to get him satisfied, to show her just what his stamina was like now.

Sergals had the power to keep going all day long. They were able to hump, and rut, and fuck, and go for as long as their partner needed them to. This, though...

The bestial sergal-Spermatosaurus hybrid struggled to ignore the throbbing in his balls, the churning that was constant and never-ending. He swore that he was starting to feel each individual sperm cell wriggling about, no longer impossible to see, but perhaps the size of a tadpole. He didn't dare look down; what if they were warm enough to see through his balls, to look like little swimmers in his balls to his new vision?

He was already bigger than he should be. His balls had swollen so large that he struggled to keep moving quickly, his legs spreading on their own with every step he took to avoid crushing the sac between his thighs. He wanted to keep moving, but wanted to keep rutting. Brain and body struggled against each other, and he tried to force himself to focus on the one thing that mattered.

The pill bottle.

It was right there, in his back pocket, a remnant of his clothes that had somehow clung to his hips. He had managed to get the bottle free, but now the lid was defeating him, holding onto the head of the bottle in a way that just stubbornly kept him from getting his cure. His long, narrow head leaned over it, his body growing more feral, more four-legged as he stomped his front paws around it.

No, no, no! I need it!

He brought one forepaw down, and it finally cracked the top of the bottle. Pills spilled out in pairs and triples, and he leaned down over it, trying to collect them in his fingers. It was just as useless as trying to open the bottle, though. Everything on him was too feral to actually handle them the way that a person would.

Tears were forming in his ears, and droplets were still dripping from between his legs. Vasilisa's scent clung to him, her pussy juices running along his shaft, but his own musk was slowly displacing it. The strong scent was enough to even make him a little bit high, taking it in and leaving him shivering, horny, needy. How the hell was he supposed to get better when his own pheromones were fucking him over?

He humped the air, unable to help himself as the reasons for the pills grew foggier and foggier. They weren't going to help him fuck things, after all. They were going to make it harder for him to...to...

Breed...rut...impregnate...breed...breed...BREED!

The need to leave pups behind in the different females he found was getting stronger and stronger, and he knew that there would be little way for him to resist for long. He needed...he needed...

His tongue hung down further from his mouth, and he realized that he did have a way to take the pills. It wasn't going to taste good, but he could do it.

Desperately, he ran his tongue along the ground. Asphalt, dirt, and worse coated his tongue, but he was able to find the little lumps of pills in the mess, and he swallowed them as soon as he realized what they were. Four, eight, all of them. All of them at once.

As he swallowed hard, he felt them running down his throat, melting too slowly to be comfortable. Yet, Moh still hoped for the best. He stood there, tapping his paws like a dog that was eager to be let outside, desperately pressing down on the urges to rut, to run, to rape.

And slowly, the urges began to subside. The sergal-Spermatosaurus continued to throb between his legs, but the immediate, overwhelming urge to run and find prey to impregnate was no longer as high as it was. Some dexterity began to come back to his fingers and toes, and after about a minute, he was able to get up to his hind legs again. His eyes started to flicker, the heat vision starting to fade, and the world started to come back into focus.

It wasn't a happy world, and it wasn't a good feeling to sense his eyeballs sucking back out of his skull and getting back in the appropriate position, but it was better than nothing.

Yet, most of the changes hadn't been reversed. He could feel the thick muscles in his arms and legs, feel how they were still bigger than they had been only a day or two ago. His sense of smell was still much stronger, and he could still smell his own pheromones more than he should have been able to.

Feeling his head, he felt like a sergal that had been sired from a monster, and he supposed he had. Everything felt...smoother, leaner, more like it was made to hunt. His teeth were starting to come out a bit more, to the point where he felt a bit like a saber-toothed cat rather than anything else. His tongue was still split at the end, and he had a feeling that it would be perfect for infecting others.

Worse, he still felt the urge to fuck, to rut. The pills had done nothing to take more than the edge off, and his cock was still throbbing hard against his belly, begging to be unleashed on some poor, unsuspecting female.

Breed, rut, fuck.

Being on two legs again, he felt like he had some little bit of control that he hadn't had before. Maybe there was something about not being a beast that allowed him to think clearly, maybe it was something else, but he knew that he had to get back home. He had to isolate, to shut himself down for a while.

And he needed ice. Lots of ice. This dick was going down, one way or another, even if he had to freeze it off.

Don't want to hurt...don't want to be bad...don't want to make things worse...

And he knew that he would. Vasilisa was strong, and he'd been able to get away from her, had been able to corrupt her a bit. She wasn't completely gone, of course, but she was definitely more affected than she would have been. He hadn't missed that heat, and he hadn't missed how desperate she was to keep him to herself.

Gotta...get away...

The first step was the hardest one, each successive one easier. He started to walk, then run, then back to walking. His balls were too big for him to hurry down the alleys. He risked popping them with every step from how big they were...

And the brushing of his thighs against the low-hangers felt sooooo fucking good...

Mohrahk groaned under his breath, slapping his cheeks. No. He needed to focus on just getting home. If he let himself think about how good his balls felt, how full they were, how much he needed to get off...

SMACK!

He slapped himself again, putting the thoughts back out of his head for a little bit longer. Forward. Forward. Forward. If he could keep moving forward, he'd be okay. No matter how much his sperm was swimming and begging to be let out, he had to keep moving forward. There was ice at home, there were ways to distract himself, and if he really, really had to, he could go on a jerk-off binge.

That way, nobody would get pregnant.

That way, nobody would get hurt.

Breed, rut, breed, rut, breed!

The inner voice of the monster was always there, though, always pushing on him, and he knew that he could only resist it for so much longer before it completely overwhelmed him.

He moved a little faster, hoping that he could avoid squishing his balls too much. That just hurt. A lot.

The End