Demonic Motorcycle

"Feed with my cum, just like your drones will feed with yours" Blake murmured as Scott felt his vitality and strength multiplying.

Scott panted and moaned, his back arched as he felt the pleasure at the edge of his mind. Then, in a brilliant moment, the orgasm exploded through him. Every muscle went stiff, Scott gasped and his cock spasmed. A thin jet of white launched out high into the air, the last of his human cum being pushed out of the way... One spurt, two spurts, three, four, then five. When Scott got to six, he knew he had more than tripled the largest load of his entire life. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he went limp, his entire body feeling rubbery and soft... but still he felt the orgasm continuing.

"Your cock will never stop being hard," Blake said stroking the length.

Soon the seed grew darker and darker, becoming a jet black syrup that came out in thicker and thicker quantity. Soon Scott's shaft gushed out an immature latex goo that splattered onto the floor. Blake slowly pulled his lengths out, he felt how Scott's suit clenched hard to avoid anything to leak.

Scott then raised to his feet, his cock staying hard and continuing to drip with no end in sight. Scott felt drawn to the motorcycle. He swung his thick leg over the seat of his bike and settled down. The bike sagged a bit with his weight before the shocks kicked in. As Scott brought his groin flush with the front of the bike, the leather parted and a slimy, dark orifice opened up. Scott drew his cock down into the bike itself. Scott moaned, his eyes half rolling back in his head as the bike came to life, the lights shining brightly as a deep, rumbling growl erupted from the engine. The growl was deep and low, almost operating on a subconscious level, creeping into the minds of any male within earshot. It was a sound inspiring a yearning for freedom, for anarchy, for chaos and lust...

(To be continued?)