Salamander Slut

Bill. Why couldn't she tear her eyes away from him?

...

Fuck!

...

So, he was gay. That sucked. Takes him off the list of potential mates. No other male in the centre could hold a candle to Bill, so Trace searched high and low for another outlet for her budding hunger.

When she settled on a plan of action, she fought with herself on whether to proceed.

It was her last resort, but if she was honest, he might be willing to look past their history together...

* * *

"This next part is embarrassing. But I need this...I need to know if you'll do this with me..."

Chris leaned forward, attentive. This was the reason he came here. Something so important they had to speak in person to discover.

"I want to spawn."

Hmm, he wondered, does she mean...?

"I want to breed. With...you," she said, reading his puzzled mind.

Oh. Ohhhh...she does...

At the moment of revelation, he uttered a monosyllabic: "huh."

"I want...you. To do it with me."

"This is..." Chris stammered, "a little out of left-field doncha' think?"

"I know it sounds fucking crazy! But I mean it. Please give me an honest answer."

"Aren't there like, males here...other, um, salamander-people for this kinda thing?"

"There are males. Yeah...but they're sooooo lame! Think of the type of guy who agrees to become a slimy male salamander. Ew...creepy! Who'd want that? Am I right?"

"As opposed to the type of guy who agrees to become a female salamander?" Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Shut up," she huffed, "y'know what I mean!"

"Oh, I think I do."

She saw him crack a devious smile . "Let me get this straight. You pissed off the last people on Earth who might give you the time of day. The last folks who'd put up with your shit. Dear old mom and dad. Look where that got ya. Alone. All alone and...heh, this is too rich..."

He laughed. His cruel streak was showing.

"You're turning into a whore. Not just any kind of whore. Whorin' yourself out for science, a lab rat! A non-human."

Non-human. The words stung.

"I had to do this," she protested, "I had nothing! This place saved me."

"In return for transforming into...that..." he gestured to her new body, "and letting a bunch of doctors experiment on you?"

Trace nodded, having lost the will to speak up for herself. She was visibly upset as his remarks. Luckily Chris picked up on that and tempered his tirade. He chastised her for a minute more before calmly — and carefully — asking why, in all honesty, she wanted him.

"I looked you up on social media and all; I gotta say, you really got in shape."

"That's why? You want me for my body?"

She looked panicked. "No, that's not...okay, that's one reason why. I saw the beach trip photos you posted...but I have other reasons."

She huffed. This was tougher than she'd expected. "You're smart, Chris. Smarter than I ever was. Why do you think I always copied your work?

"Makes sense. You were an astonishingly unrepentant cheater."

"Nerd." she remarked, teasing him.

"Ha-ha, I use big words, very funny."

She shifted in her seat. "I want my offspring to have your smarts. And...you're kinda the only person I'm comfortable asking. You ain't a bad guy."

"Oh how the tables have turned."

Trace fidgeted. "So, will...will you do it?"

Chris needed a moment to think. Mulling it over, he stroked his chin. Well, it's not how I envisioned 'fucking' my bully...but it's something.

* * *

"This is me."

They stopped outside one of the doors in the residential portion of the centre. Trace was still wet after her swim, damp footprints trailed behind them like fairytale breadcrumbs. That was no issue — the centre was built to house amphibians after all. Common areas were furnished with water-resistant flooring, perfect for their semi-aquatic hosts to go about their business. Chris made a mental note to wipe his shoes clean when leaving.

She tentatively placed the key in the lock. "Before we go any further, I have to ask: are you absolutely positively sure you want to do this?" The nervous hybrid watched for any tell-tale signs in her prospective partner's face.

Chris exhaled. Today was strange. He failed to reply.

"Are you sure you want to...have...sex?" she whispered.

"I said yes didn't I?"

"I know. You have to be weirded out, like, a little?"

He placed his hand over hers. "Just open the door would ya?"

They entered her room. It was fancier than Chris was expecting. He assumed a dormitory bedroom, instead he was greeted with a small but cosy apartment. They treated their subjects well in the ARC.

"Hungry? There're smoothies in the fridge."

Chris opened the metal door, scanning the refrigerated interior. None of the food inside interested him.

"Some are normal fruit, but steer clear of the algae ones, I don't think you'd like 'em."

"Nah, I'm good," he said, shutting the fridge door. "This is a nice place. For what it is," he commented, looking around her mini-apartment.

"Neat, isn't it? I have one of the smaller ones. They give bigger pads to breeding couples and long-term subjects. I've thought 'bout upgrading, but it costs money. Since I've got everything I need here — kitchen, living area, bedroom — why should I?"

"What's through there?" he pointed to the far side of the room.

"Oh that's my pool."

"You have an indoor pool?"

"A little one, yeah. I use it for baths and chillaxin'. We gotta keep our skin hydrated to stay healthy." She narrowed her gaze. "Why? Wanna have a little splash in my pool? Together?" Her voice reached him laced with seductive tones.

She stood close to him, eyes wandering over his body. Chris couldn't help but fall under the same spell. She touched his arm. His skin flushed with the contact, sending tingling sensations up his shoulder and neck.

"Let me show you the bedroom."

Trace led him by the hand. Upon entering, Chris noticed a second, much smaller pool.

"Another one?"

Trace skipped over to it from the doorway. "This...is my spawning pool. When I lay my eggs they'll incubate there," she said, motioning to the bowl-like depression.

"How long does that all take?" Chris wondered.

"Umm, from what I'm told by the other females it takes a couple of weeks for my eggs to develop, then I release them into the pool, and keep an eye on them. Until they hatch of course."

"Seems a little quick."

"Well, that's amphibians for ya!" she chirped. "Now..." she turned to face him, dialling the sexy up to eleven, "come closer..."

Chris — her willing servant — followed orders. Trace pulled him into an embrace, leaving a faint damp imprint of her figure on his t-shirt.

"To business?" he quipped, already missing the feel of her body against his.

"To business. You shoot your man goo all up inside me and I'll have a batch of lil' salamander babies to raise."

"Putting it that way kinda kills the mood, doncha' think?"

"Oh shush, you agreed to this, don't you back out now!"

She disrobed, her wet bathing suit hitting the floor with a splat. Chris at last saw her nude, her divine yet alien figure the product of science gone too far. A perfect breeding female for her species.

Her non-human form was his to enjoy. Her tongue flicked as she posed for him, kicking away her one-piece and caressing her needy body. Her hands cupped her breasts — free at last from the tyranny of clothing. Beneath the thin layer of moisture her dark green nipples were hardening. Firming up in anticipation of her lover's tender touch.

Chris watched her tense up. Never had he seen someone so turned on by the prospect of sex. In his limited history with the ladies he hadn't once garnered such a reaction. Trace let out a timid moan as she worked herself into quite a state. His opinion of her was being slowly clouded by the primal urge to mate, overwriting their history, leaving him wanting. She was attractive, yes, and looking for love. Who cares who she used to be? Chris felt his member strain against his pants, desperate to be set free.

Her curvaceous hips guarded the greatest treasure of all. Pale fleshy lips hidden between her thighs, swelling with blood from self-stimulation, drew Chris' stare away from her breasts. She ran a finger lightly across them, with delicate precision, just enough to tease herself. She licked her lips.

While she toyed with her sensual form, Chris undressed. He wasn't bad to look at. Nice pronounced abs, nothing over-the-top. Soft yet strong. Unconstrained, his cock rose to attention, fully erect. Average length. Decent girth. Surrounded by a short, sparse patch of pubic hair, pleasing to the eye. His breathing grew shallow, the lust building. The scent of mutual arousal blanketed the room.

Neither could wait a second longer.

Face-to-face, they kissed. Trace found her large jaws somewhat unwieldy, pressing them up against Chris' lips in a vain effort to emulate the actions of two humans smooching. Chris didn't seem to mind the awkward manoeuvres necessary to truly kiss one another, and put his own effort into sealing their mouths together.

A sharp thwack echoed throughout the room as her tail snapped against the floor, excited by the touch of skin upon skin. Chris edged forward, nudging her, running his hands over her. Trace's skin felt smooth, and cool; her low body temperature a side-effect of her amphibian form. Not cold enough to make things uncomfortable — for Chris, she was the ice in his drink.

He pushed her up against the wall, passions aflame. She cooed as he pressed tightly against her. A dull purring. Chris grabbed hold of her juicy rear, squeezing her buoyant cheeks together. With her back propped up against the wall he let her lower half shift forward as he leaned in. This freed her tail to swish back-and-forth at her leisure, twitching with each tender ministration applied by the amorous human. Trace forced her tongue into Chris' mouth. Her long flexible muscle swirled inside his mouth, exploring her lover, stealing his breath.

Chris moaned. Trace moaned back.

They broke their kiss, leaving the pair to look deeply into each other's eyes. An unspeakable bond formed, fleeting though it may be. They talked through their eyes, burning with desire. Fuck me, Trace screamed — silent the to world at large, fuck me!

His stare said it all: not yet.

He lifted her up slightly, her ass still firmly in his grasp. Her swelling flower came to rest on his lower abdomen, her thighs curling 'round his waist. This was the only part of her that felt warm. Amidst the wetness of her body in general, Chris could sense the trickle of lubricant, leaking from her pussy and dampening his waistline as it ran down his sensitive skin, matting his body hair. It dripped onto his hard member, leaving him prematurely slick.

No penetration yet. Just teasing. And boy, did Chris love to tease.

With Trace's legs wrapped around him, her thighs clamped across his waist, Chris brought his head to her chest. There he admired her wonderful breasts. Large and pliable. He kissed one of the mounds, tasting her body. There was a hint (however faint) of salt on her flesh. He worked his way along her chest, massaging with his tongue, until he reached her right nipple. The small bud felt like a stone — hard under his licking. Shortness of breath overcame Trace, her breathing a shallow, staccato beat. Her nerves were firing on all cylinders. Feeling his primal assault, she quivered and quaked. It was sublime.

Chris suckled, burying his face in her beautiful bosom as much as possible. He switched sides. Heaping devotion upon her other breast, savouring every moment, every second he licked and sucked. Trace giggled: "someone likes my titties."

Removing them from his mouth with a fat pop, Chris smiled at her. "I do."

"Aahh," she stretched, her limbs shivering, "this feels amazing!" Trace never knew how many nooks and crannies could be stimulated by a considerate lover. This body of hers...just wonderful...

Chris dived back between her breasts, thanking all manner of deities for what the ARC had done to her. Careful to not hurt his partner, he bit one of her nipples. This produced a delightful squeal from Trace. She ruffled his hair as he nibbled her sweet nubs. Her tail flicked between his legs, slapping his behind. A surprised Chris pulled his face away from her chest. She laughed when she saw his expression. Her powerful tail coiled around one of his legs, the prehensile tip stroking the back of his knee. He went weak in that leg for a second, trying to keep her supported.

Repositioning herself, Trace clenched her ass around his cock. The hot spear begged for attention, she flexed her butt muscles, constricting around it. Chris gasped as the salamander squeezed his shaft. His chest rose and fell with laboured breaths.

Moving away from the wall, he carried her in the direction of her bed. Just in time too, for he collapsed on top of her, his legs no longer able to stand the tickling she administered with her tail. The mattress was strange, much the same as a waterbed — but filled with a thick, viscous gel. Whatever it was, according to Trace it was perfectly normal. She sank into it a bit before it solidified into a stable mass, hugging the edge of her body.

Chris crawled over her, sliding over her blue-green skin. Two blobs of yellow colouring at her shoulder-blades caught his eye, and for a moment he paused, then looked up at her face. She was panting. She needed this. She needed it bad.

He positioned himself at her entrance, his tip barely nudging against the silken folds guarding her womanhood. Sweating, he made measured movements to rub gently his spear-tip on her waiting nether-lips. Methodically he played with her pussy, adding his fingers to the mix — lightly rubbing her pubic mound. One hand held his shaft in place, the other tended to her needy sex. Trace whimpered. His touch was exciting. Was this how it felt for women? She could barely contain herself. Chris stopped, and focused on her expression, noting how blank it'd become with yearning. He smiled. She returned the adulation, snapping out of her libidinous haze. Her mind was clouded with thoughts of him entering her. How it would feel. How happy it would make her.

Resuming his treatment of her exposed pussy, Chris singled out her clit for extra attention. As he rubbed his heated shaft along her labia, the human used his free hand to brush against the delicate nerve cluster. Trace bit her lip. Rods of pleasure shot though her body, her muscles twitching. Her three-toed feet flexed, joints popping with a satisfying crack. She lay paralysed by his miniature massage. The salamander's legs tightened around his trunk, preparing for the next step.

Having tormented his former bully enough, Chris pushed himself inside. Opening up her folds he felt the tightness of her virgin body fight back his invading cock. That did little to stop him. To Chris it seemed like she was sucking him in, drawing his member inside despite the resistance. Her oily walls helped him glide deeper, his mushroom-headed probe clearing the way.

Trace very nearly cried then and there. It's not supposed to be this way. She is...she was a horrible person. She wasn't supposed to feel so good. Nobody like her deserved this! She inhaled strongly, followed by a loud sniff as she composed herself. It was tricky with Chris having already entered her, but she managed to stave off the worst of her oncoming emotions. He was able to put aside their differences, she could too.

He reached the maximum extent his length would allow. Hilting himself, his anthro lover wriggled under him, finding a better position to take his soon-to-begin thrusting. Trace rested her hands on his chest, gripping a pec each. He's so warm!

Once more tears threatened to form. She grimaced as Chris closed his eyes. Thank you, she mouthed, for everything!

Chris pulled out, stopping short of exiting her completely. The sensation of his cock dragging along her inner walls drove Trace wild. No way in hell could being a guy compete with this kind of feeling. Chris grunted as he thrust, burying himself to the hilt. The quickness of his push caught her off-guard, but in a good way. "Mmmm...aahh!" she purred. He repeated his pull-and-thrust movements. Another full cycle. Chris experimented with different speeds, thrusting again and again with variations in pace, hoping to find a comfortable rhythm.

Finding one they both enjoyed, he settled in, hips bucking — pumping her full of his red-hot meat. Trace moaned as he moved. Her body complemented his actions by pushing against his thrusts, elevating the pleasure. Her thighs wetly smacked against his pelvis, her human lover buckling — falling into her arms — whenever the feel of her velvet lining was too much. This was everything she ever wanted: someone to mate with her. At last she could quench the burning.

His vigour did not falter the longer they fucked. Chris didn't get in shape for nothing! Well...he didn't get in shape for this, exactly...but hey, he made do. He watched her face contort with delight; open-mouthed, her tongue lolled aimlessly, flapping with the rhythm of his pounding.

Trace bounced on his cock a minute more, before leaping up into his arms. She now sat upright, Chris propelling his hips upwards to fuck her. Her breasts bobbed, nipples scratching his chest. She kissed him, holding his head in her hands, engulfing his small human tongue with her jaws. He pussy slick with her juices, Trace gyrated, her muscular legs holding them together.

Chris picked up the pace, trying to hasten his release.

Yeah, take that Trey! Piece of shit...who's in charge now!?

"GAAAGH!" Oh God, I'm close...

He plunged inside her one last time, and froze. He howled, muffled by Trace's mouth, as he came. His whole body shook. The pressure building in his balls was at last relieved. Ropes of human seed squirted into Trace, thick with life-giving sperm. The salamander knew she could get pregnant from a human, they were genetically compatible enough to achieve fertilisation. She wondered how many eggs would grow from their union.

Chris tore his lips away from hers. He felt her constrict around him, both in limb and pussy, holding him tight. He could breathe, gasping as he shot his load. She soon followed with an orgasm of her own, biting down on his shoulder. Chris hissed as she broke the skin, her figure pulsing with blissful abandon.

"Ohmygod! That was—" Trace left her sentence half-finished as she collapsed back onto the bed, Chris' manhood stuck firmly in her canal. "Ohmygod!"

"Yeah. That was something else," he uttered, weak from their encounter, "I like the new you."

She chuckled, glad they were on good terms. Chris slid out, moving back on the bed and positioning himself beside her. An arm wrapped around her waist, her tail flicking, their legs entwined. Her feet fought with his for space.

Trace sighed. She could feel Chris' heartbeat on her back as he held her. Obsessed with his form moulding around hers, she ignored another issue. Then she felt it — something was off. She felt queasy. And the burning in her womb hadn't really faded.

"Chris."

"Yeah."

"It hurts."

Chris kissed her neck. "What does?"

"It's too hot!" She began to weep.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Chris sat up beside her, seeing her crying affected him. "What's wrong!?"

"Aagh," Trace groaned as she rose, resting her upper body against the wall. "Your...um...stuff...it's..."

"It's too...hot?" he ventured.

She sniffed. The discomfort was palpable. "I'm cold-blooded, Chris. We don't have the same body temperature anymore. Your cum, it's starting to hurt — a lot!"