The Millipede Bugs the Astronaut Pt. 02

The Millipede Bugs The Astronaut

Conclusion

(Inspired by and Based Upon "Contact" by Little White Mouse)

by The Preve

Thanks to Todger 65 for the edit.

The many legs suddenly appearing upon Kate's body barely registered; she was too high on bug drug to really care. Znggg and Znong cared very much, though. One moment, they were having a fine 'ol time humping away, slathering narco-venom, pumping the Xeno-Fuzzie full of seed juice. The next, a free for all as they battled fellow collegiates to penetrate whatever holes could be found on the creature.

"Get me some of that, man!"

"Hey! Wait your turn dude!"

"Get off of there, perverts!"

"Dude! The eggs go in here! Remember what Scholar Znxxx said?!"

"She's sucking it, dude! She's really into it!"

Indeed, extraordinary deliciousness constituted some benefits of bug spunk. "It tastes like someone mixed rum with honey," Kate giggled. "I feel so drunk right now. The combines would pay a fortune for this stuff."

The bug pumped floods of sweet nectar into her mouth, drugging Kate into erotic euphoria. She gulped it down, eyes rolled in ecstasy. She brought her hands to its carapace, bracing its body while her tongue licked along its candy stick.

"Oh wow! Man!" Znggg, the fortunate bug cried. "Dude! This is the best fucking experiment ever!"

"Mmmff!" Znrrk, a millipede who presently had his mandible fastened to Kate's right nipple, agreed.

"Mmmonf!" seconded Zning, currently attached to Kate's left.

The other millipedes piled on top of Kate's swelling belly, slathered her body in narco-venom, or examined her various limbs, among other features. Znong pumped away, sliding his ovipositor in and out of Kate's throbbing pink vulva. He slapped away a colleague, "Wait your turn dude!"

"Oh come on man!" protested Znonk, a collegiate student of aesthetic compositions. "Everyone else has got the Xeno's holes plugged and I'm so fucking mate-seasoned I'm popping my carapace!"

"Well you fucking wait. I haven't planted my eggs yet . . . Oh! Yeah! Here they come! Oh fuck man! Ughn! Xeno sex is the best!"

The pilot didn't notice the implantation, too busy working another millipede cock. In her haze, she noted, besides a basic honey flavor, variations in millipede taste.

Here one, a water systems controller named Znoinx, tasted somewhat like bourbon. Here another, a wood manipulator named Znaanx, tasted distinctly vodka-ish. "Wow!" she gulped, "I wish I could record this!"

Znong's egging and Znoinx' spunking produced pronounced swells in Kate's breasts and belly. The increased abundance of flesh provided a greater area for millipedes to clamber upon. The timing was very good, as white nectar began to erupt from Kate's volcanic tits.

Znong pumped in his last egg, then joined his colleagues on the Xeno's cream fountains. Znonk, close to the creature's pussy, received a blast of cum before he plugged it with his ovipositor.

The Scholars observed the free-for-all in stunned fascination. The Xeno was buried under an ever growing pile of collegiates; a growth not attributable to numbers alone.

Occasionally the pile would shift to expose her round fleshy belly, or her pink cum-squirting pussy, or a breast or another squirting milk high into the air. Each time the body part grew larger and rounder.

As many millipedes piled on the Xeno to suck her nectar or pump her pussy, many more piled around her body, in various states of blowout souseness. The more she plumped, the greater the amount of nectar from her breasts; an effect the less inebriated collegiates caught onto early. The result, for Kate's mouth and pussy, was a constant feeding of alien millipedal cock.

"Well, it seems Znxxx was correct in the mutagenic reaction," said First Scholar.

"Most interesting. We'll be writing papers for cycles over this," added Second Scholar.

"Such an egregious display of moral degeneracy not seen in a hundred moons," snarled Third Scholar.

First Scholar rolled his eyes. "Gods! This Grey Beetle is annoying," he thought, using the popular term for the Hive's bureaucrats. "Fourth Scholar? What is your opin . . . Fourth Scholar? Fourth Scholar! Where the bloody moons is he?!"

"Uh, I think that's him at the Fuzzie's left teat," answered Second Scholar.

"I knew it! I knew it!" gleefully exclaimed the Third Scholar. "A moral reprobate! Sexual deviancy! Corrupter of young collegiates! And here's the proof! I demand he be dismissed from his position immediately and his department folded into mine! I . . ."

The First and Second Scholars turned to the Third and said as one, "Third Scholar, shut up!"

Znxxx, meanwhile, was standing a way off, ignored by the Scholars, gazing forlornly at the growing heap of drunken, sex-sated millipedes and Big Fuzzie flesh. He wondered if he should try another delve into the Fuzzie's interior but decided the current melee was too difficult to penetrate.

The Fuzzie, at this stage, was best described as an orgasmic, giant, gravid belly with huge, globular, milk fountains.

Znxxx couldn't see the Fuzzie's head but noticed collegiates and, "Great moons! Is that Fourth Scholar?!" humping away at both ends, which meant the Fuzzie was getting filled with something or other. "And certainly she's giving something back," he thought, watching the drunken pile around her. "Great moons, what have I done?"

****

"What in all the moons of the sky and the insects of the Great Hive is going on here?!" a giant voice boomed behind him.

Znxxx, extremely startled, turned and, when he saw who it was, nearly soiled his carapace.

A giant centipede stood behind him; not just any centipede, THE CENTIPEDE: Sirissossipian (actually his name was much longer, including ancestral creche, species, subspecies, and titles of state and nobility), Herald to the Queen. "Well, lowly one?"

Znxxx suitably grovelled. "It is a, um, scientific, um, demonstration your Excellency."

"'Scientific demonstration' grub worm? It looks like an orgy. What is that . . . thing those 'sniff' collegiates are piled upon?"

"It's a, um, Big Hairless Fuzzie, um, female your Prominence."

The Centipede reared on fifty of its legs. "A Big Hairless Fuzzie?! One of them?! Collegiates are conducting sexual congress with . . . that?! Lowly dung beetle from the waste disposal tunnels! Where are the Scholars?! Conduct me to them now!"

Znxxx, who tried very hard to grovel even lower than he was capable, led the Centipede, muttering, "Well, it's not an orgy. Well, maybe it is . . . kind of. But it's for science too . . . I guess, and profit. Yeah, that's it."

The Scholars, intently watching the proceedings, did not notice Znxxx with the Centipede. The scholar and pollen counter tried an, "Ahem," but barely managed a chirp. His next "Ahem," came out as a squeak.

"Oh good grief eater of swamp slug vomit!" snorted the Centipede. "Stand at attention you low caste grubs from an intestinal parasite! The Herald is here!"

The three Scholars turned at the voice, saw the Centipede, squeaked in unison, and promptly tried to outdo Znxxx in the quality of their grovelling.

"Oh your Excellency! Forgive us for our inattentiveness to your magnificent presence," grovelled First Scholar.

"Our fascination with this new scientific discovery has affected our scholarly duties," grubbed Second Scholar.

"As keeper of moral behavior for the Collegium, I wish to disassociate myself from these degenerates," obsequiated the Third Scholar, "I fear this sordid affair has polluted my moral spirit and hereby submit myself to discipline."

Sirissossipian listened to the grovelling and obsequious praise for several minutes. "Always fun to be grovelled at," he thought, albeit Third Scholar disgusted him for some reason. "Aren't there supposed to be four of you?"

"Er, um, er . . ." er-umed First Scholar.

"Well? Out with it! Where's Fourth Scholar? Hmm?"

"Um, Fourth Scholar is presently, uh, partaking in the current experiment, your Magnificence," said Second Scholar.

"Oh he is, is he? Hmmph! Those rumors are true, I guess. Well, whatever shines his carapace. Well, semi-liquid slime maggots from the pustules of a syphilitic Fuzzie cock, the Queen shall be arriving presently. Rumors have reached her of some disturbance on the Big Sand. It's much more complicated, of course. Be prepared to explain yourselves worm excrement."

"Oh Great Magnificence!" the millipedes chorused.

Sirissossipian turned towards the orgy pile. The Big Fuzzie was no longer visible but the humping, writhing mass of millipedes bespoke the obvious. "Rumph! Let this farce blow itself out. There will be an accounting later."

"Oh yes, your Prominence," chorused the Scholars.

The orgy went on until the setting of the second sun and the rise of the third moon. Sirissossipian observed with the Scholars. "I understand little of the bother, 'sniff.' There's nothing but a pile of drunken lowly millipedes."

"The nectar produced by the Fuzzie is extremely potent, your Brilliance," Znxxx said.

"Did I ask you to speak excrement from the bottom of my lowest foot?"

"No most superior Excellency."

"Rumph! This fecal tempest looks to have abated. Conduct me to this pile of disgrace, so I may see this (humph!) Xeno-Fuzzie for myself, and clean these lowly collegiates off while you're at it."

"At once most high Superiority!" chorused the Scholars.

They grovelled, bowed, and prostrated their way to the heap of millipedes, "Make way! Make way! Bow before the Herald worthless collegiates!"

The Scholars brushed the students off under the sneering gaze of the Herald. Most of the collegiates were blitzed to near oblivion. A few displayed some sense enough to mutter a few "Whoa's," and "Wows," and "Dudes!"

"Too inebriated to display proper respect for the office," the Herald noted with disgust. His disgust elevated to utter contempt upon the sight of Fourth Scholar. The thoroughly plotzed millipede was splayed like a limp worm betwixt the giant, melon-round nectar-fountaining flesh globes of the hairless Fuzzie. "Somebody remove that miscreant."

The grovelling millipedes, the Third Scholar muttering, "Degenerate maggot pimps," did as bid.

The collegiates cleared, Sirissossipian could look at this off-worlder who'd caused so much trouble.

Her appearance resembled a giant blobfish flushed from the deep ocean. Her giant, gravid belly wobbled like the carnivorous slime molds of the fireflower swamps.

"Great moons of the galaxy!" marveled the Herald. "She rivals the Queen in egg season! The grubs in the belly alone will burst our infant care creche! Sub-sentient diarrhea worm from my anus, answer me! How came this?!"

Znxxx, withering under the Herald's glare, squeaked out his story. "It seemed a good idea at the time. I, uh, was still late. I didn't know our body fluids would have such mutagenic effects on the off-world Fuzzie. It was a . . . fortuitous discovery, your Greatness."

"Fortuitous? Fortuitous?! Drunken collegiates?! Corrupted Scholars?! Bestial sex with out-worldly primates?! And you, insignificant slime slug from a diseased ovipositor, dare, 'dare!' to refer to this catastrophic embarrassment as fortuitous?! I should have you sent into penal service in the lowest sewer level of the waste disposal hive. Look at this thing! What's that grimace on its face? She looks like a vapid butterfly, and you know how hedonistic they are."

"The, uh, grimace is an expression of pleasure, I believe, your Uttermost. The hairy Fuzzies display the same after eating too much burbleberries," Znxxx squeaked.

"And this, this white nectar squirting from her mammaries. This is the intoxicant?"

"It is, your Magnificence," chorused the millipedes.

"Rumph! Such a peculiar liquid, and look. The Fuzzie seems to have taken interest in her mammaries."

"Oh! I think her mammaries constitute an erogenous zone, your Grandiosity. When I, uh, imbibed from that area, the Fuzzie's reaction was . . . interesting."

"Oh, stomach expulsion? Does it explain the self-imbibing I am currently witnessing?"

"I suspect it does, your Apexiousness."

"Humph! I am tempted towards a sample myself, however such behavior is far beneath my dignity as Herald to Her Majesty. Clean up this mess. I will inform Her Highness."

"At once your great Illustriousness!" came another chorus.

****

The arrival of Queen Hephastisiva, Great Mother of the Worldhive, Mistress of the Great Nest, First Among The Insect Species Collective, winner of the Purple Pollen Award for sweet disposition twenty cycles running, came with the usual fanfare.

The Hornet Guard of the Warhive, resplendent in their shiny black and gold carapaces, stingers gleaming in the suns light.

The Stingless Bee Chorus, wings humming their praise of the great Queen. The Crickets followed, playing the planetary anthem. Next, the multicolored Spectrum Flies, strewing red nectar flowers (they'd be dead by morning).

Finally, the Queen, borne on a litter of grunge beetles, groaning under her prodigious weight. Kate would marvel at the Queen's similarity to her own hyper-gravid, big-breasted body, if she weren't so bug-blissed.

The Queen's color was a pale ivory. Her egg-bloated body resembled so much a fat, giant worm. The perpetual look of disdain on her jowly face befitted her snobbish nature.

"Make way fecal maggots from the diseased anuses of leprous Fuzzies!" the Herald bellowed. "The Queen is here!"

The Scholars, at least the First, Second, and Third, plus Znxxx, and the few sober collegiates, promptly created a contest to out-grovel the other. The winner was a lowly first entry, unmated collegiate who grovelled so well it took several hours for his colleagues to dig him out of the sand.

"Oh your most great and magnificent Majesty," prostrated the First Scholar.

"Oh most brilliant Radiance," kowtowed the Second Scholar.

"Oh most great arbiter of justice, who will surely punish these perverts for their transgressions," toadied the Third Scholar.

"Oh most vomitus inducing display of obsequiousness," upchucked Znxxx, who grovelled anyway.

The Queen's disdain, on Third Scholar's anus licking, upgraded a notch to contempt. "Fawning slime sucker, sniff!"

She scowled at the gravid Fuzzie self-pleasuring on her beach, "What primitives," and addressed the grovelers. "News has been brought to our attention by certain of your colleagues, of scholars and collegiates disporting themselves with a giant alien Fuzzie. Such sordid news would not be considered credible by our person were it not for the considerable number of accusers. We have taken valuable time away from our busy schedule to personally investigate this torrid affair. Such confirmation of this disgraceful behavior is displeasing to our eyes. We are not amused."

The Scholars made the mistake of trying to speak at once, angering the Herald and the Queen.

"Cease your twittering, low-caste pustules of a mucus worm!" the Herald growled. "You! Maggot piss! Explain to the Queen!"

Eyes turned to Znxxx, the Scholars happy to watch the body waste fall upon him. Znxxx squeaked, dismayed. "First chance to present something to the Queen and it's this. I should have taken the long route."

He stumbled and fumbled his way through an explanation, from the shortcut and discovery, to his return, the grubs, and the discovery of the unique properties of the Fuzzie's milk.

The Queen listened with growing outrage, fascination, and grudging respect for Znxxx's innovative egg implantation. "Outrageous! Bestiality! Intoxicating alien chemicals! And yet . . . Big Hairless Fuzzies as incubators, hmmm." She maintained her air of quiet disdain and superiority. "One must keep up appearances." She let Znxxx finish, and then resume his grovelling.

"See your Majesty! The one responsible for corrupting our morals and our youth!" Third Scholar expectorated gleefully.

The Queen sniffed, mostly at Third Scholar, who missed the sneer entirely. She addressed Znxxx, "You will continue grovelling until we have returned. We shall consider your punishment presently. Litter, conduct us to this alien. We wish for a closer examination."

The grunge beetles groaned. They hated sand.

Bug-blissed Kate, sucking on her right tit, took little notice of the Queen. The scientist in her felt vague fascination, but bug juice and breast milk overruled her mental faculties.

Bugs surrounded the gravid astronaut. As if on cue, a vast flow of liquid gushed from her pussy. "Oh boy, here we go again!"

"Most fortuitous," whispered First Scholar to Second, "An opportunity to view the birthing process."

"A most disgusting display of perversity," grumbled Third Scholar. The others ignored him.

The moaning Fuzzie's pink flower widened, and a pale white head appeared. The grub plopped out in a splash of fluid and cum. Soon grubs were popping out with assembly line regularity.

"The Fuzzie seems to be taking great pleasure in the birthing, your Majesty," the Herald remarked.

"Mmm, hmmm," the Queen nodded, closely observing. Ideas were starting to form.

She spoke to the scholars. "You there, tend to those grubs. I don't want them near that Fuzzie's milk."

The grovelling First and Second Scholars replied, "Yes, most shining light of our Hive," and went to work.

"I have seen enough here," said the Queen to the Herald. "When the Fuzzie finishes, conduct her to our private chamber. We wish to interview her in camera."

"Yes your Majesty. I must, however, advise we have no knowledge of her language, or even how to communicate with her. She is a different species after all, and alien at that."

"Well then, find a scholar or collegiate who studies other species."

"That would be Fourth Scholar, Highness."

"And where would he be at the moment?"

"Uh," he pointed an appendage at a pile of semi-conscious millipedes.

"Sigh! Sober him up and inform him of his new duties. We shall create a new Hive. It shall be called the Collegiate Hive For The Study Of Xeno-Species' Language, Culture, and Customs."

"A most excellent idea, your Majesty," remarked the Herald, who ignored the horrified look from Third Scholar.

The Queen and her entourage paused by Znxxx. "Remove yourself from the sand and accompany us to our Hive. You will present a detailed report as to your activities with the alien Fuzzie. Omit nothing, including the amount of narco-venom and sperm you introduced into the creature."

"At your command, great and beautiful Mother of us all," squeaked Znxxx. He trembled, uncertain as to whether his career was about to receive a major boost, or if a future as a pus handler for infected sewage worms described his future resume.

Queen Hephastisiva lolled on her litter, sucking on a honey flower, thinking. "An alternate incubator for eggs, hmmm. Some possibilities here."

****

Kate Sanders, late of the United Nations Interstellar Service, current Terran plenipotentiary to Her Majesty's government of the Union of the Great Hive of the Cimexica, and official surrogate Hive Mother for Her Majesty, Queen Hephastisiva (so far as the Terran English translation could make of it), stretched her toned, tanned, curvy, and very nude body in the warm morning sunshine ("Suns shine," she thought. "There's more than one. Keep forgetting that.").

The extraordinarily pleasurable and productive years spent on the planet created spectacular benefits for Kate and the natives. Lots of bug sex, lots of bug drug, lots of bug grubs, and lots of bugs soused.