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Predatory by sinereal

Books » Worm Rated: M, English, Romance & Horror, Vista, Panacea, OC, Words: 246k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Jun 12, 2022 Updated: Jun 25, 2022

198Chapter 2: 02

Predatory

02

"I'll have the Challenger."

"Are you insane? That thing is a heart attack waiting to happen."

Behind the counter, the older man who owned Fugly Bob's, chuckled. "You sure about that, miss? That's sixty dollars worth of burger if you can't finish."

Missy hummed, wishing she had a way to communicate with her… what? Passenger? That would work for now. She wished she had a way to talk to her passenger that didn't involve actually talking.

"If you're dead set on it, I can consume it before it hits your stomach. I'll leave you enough to get full on and eat the rest myself."

The girl Missy was pretending to be nodded. "I think I can handle it."

The man shook his head. "Your funeral, kid," he chuckled, before walking over to a bell hung up to the side of the counter. Ringing the bell several times drew the attention of the rest of the patrols of Fugly Bob's. "A Challenger has appeared!" he roared, before gesturing at Missy. Walking back over to her, he said, "Give us a few minutes and we'll be right out with it. Sit anywhere, I'll come find you. What'll you have to drink?"

"A fountain drink," she answered, and was handed a cup. "Oh, and no mayo or special sauce on that burger. Just mustard and ketchup."

Missy smiled and went to fill up her drink—something dark, sugary, and with entirely too much caffeine. While she was there, she picked up a handful of napkins and a fork, just in case. She turned away from the fountain and looked around the floor at the expectant, laughing, or scoffing faces of the other patrons. Fuck hiding in a booth. Refuge in Audacity, bitches.

Taking a seat at a table in plain view of everyone present, she pulled out her phone and waited for her meal. Seeing an opportunity, she opened the phone's note taking app and typed out a message.

[you can change my face, but can you make my boobs bigger?]

"Well, yeah. Not right now, obviously. Don't want witnesses. And that bra is going to be painful if I do it—"

[so i'll take it off]

Miles was silent for a moment as he considered, before eventually responding, "That should work. It'll be my mass anyway and even if it wasn't, I can support them, so it'll look like you're wearing a bra anyway. Problem is, I need more mass for that. Really, I need a lot more. Not sure how much I can handle without either hurting you or making you weigh a ton. I suppose if I moved to someone else—"

[no.]

"No? To moving to someone else? I mean, you said it yourself, you were only offering to let me stay at your place for a few days."

[give me time to think. Need to sort my thoughts. Talk more about that later.]

"Okay then. Hey look, there's our burger. …God, I haven't had a good 'dirty burger' in a year."

The crew of Fugly Bob's paraded out a burger the size of Missy's head and for a moment, she actually regretted her decision to try this insanity. Then the smell hit her and her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten tonight, she was technically eating for two, and best of all? If Miles was getting the lion's share, she didn't have to worry about calorie count. The biggest problem she found as the monstrosity was set down in front of her was trying to decide where to start. It was so tall that she couldn't get her hands around it and there was no way it would fit in her mouth.

Sounds like I'm describing a cock, she snickered to herself.

The bun was some sort of specially made thing four times the size of a normal bun, made of sourdough and covered in sesame seeds. Beneath that was a salad's worth of vegetables, about half a cow's worth of beef and cheese, and what looked like a half gallon of red and yellow condiments.

"Are you going to eye-fuck it, or were you planning to put that thick, beefy meat in your mouth some time tonight?"

Missy bit her lip in an effort to keep from laughing. Deciding on her plan of attack, she took the top off and began dissecting the burger. The salad's worth of lettuce, tomato, and onion got taken off and eaten first. After she swallowed, she felt a strange sensation somewhere between her throat and stomach, and it felt like most of the food disappeared.

"Weird. So I can taste what you taste, but not if I'm using my tendrils to consume something."

Missy filed that away under 'interesting but not important' and used her fork to eat most of the patties and cheese. Once she was down to the last patty and bun, she picked it up and ate it normally.

The entire time, the staff and patrons had slowly grown more and more silent as they watched a girl who couldn't weigh more than a buck ten (It's all muscle!) eat something that shouldn't possibly physically fit in her stomach. Along with a large order of fries and a soda.

When she finished, Missy let out a quiet belch, muffled behind a fist. "Oof, that hurt," she groaned, using her napkins to make sure she was clean.

"Misjudged your comfort zone for 'full.' Hang on."

There was an odd wriggling in her stomach and the pressure abruptly let off, leaving her feeling sated but not bloated. Much better, she sighed with relief.

The owner sent her a suspicious look, but eventually decided that revealing a potential parahuman in their civilian identity was a bad idea. He was a good sport about it as he started clapping, drawing applause from the staff and other patrons. Missy stood up, climbed on top of her chair, and took a bow. "Thank you! Thank you!"

The teenager grinned, eating up the attention.

Shortly afterwards, she left Fugly Bob's and headed out into the city. The lingering feeling of grease that her attempts at cleaning off hadn't gotten disappeared in a ripple of the layer of stuff over her skin. "So, power testing?"

"Power testing. Boat graveyard?"

Missy raspberried. "Pfft no. Everyone has eyes on that place. There's a park up on Captain's Hill. Heavily wooded, poorly lit, and cops are supposed to keep it empty at night—but no one really pays attention to it. Alternatively, there's the old train yard, but I think the Empire hang out there."

"Rail yard is more useful. If something comes up with the Empire, we can just run."

Missy raised an eyebrow. "Run? Fuck no. I want to crack some skulls."

"Once we get a handle on what I can do and what we can do together. Assuming… you know. The more I think about it, the worse an idea I think sticking together is going to be. PRT probably does routine bloodwork on you and something's bound to show up, either there or in a medical exam. Or if Panacea touches you. And I'm sure we'll stand out to Gallant and his emo-sense. Probably weight and infrared sensors that would pick up something off about you, too."

Frowning, Missy considered the problem Miles had listed as she walked. Making sure she wasn't being watch, she focused her eyes on a rooftop several hundred yards away. A twist of space and, between one step and the next, they left street level. The twist closed behind her and she lined up her next target as she set off in a jog. She was fit and used to jogging miles at a time, but she felt no strain at all—and after five minutes she wasn't even breathing hard.

Deciding to push herself, she leaned into a sprint. Twists in space allowed her to run between rooftops, gaining altitude as she made her way up to taller and taller buildings. Still not breathing hard, she slowed to a stop atop one of the taller buildings. "Are you tired at all?"

"Nope," Miles answered, sounding rather surprised himself.

"So, minor Brute and/or Mover power. Enhanced stamina, maybe. I wonder how high we could jump."

"Let's find out."

Grinning, Missy made a standing leap, not really putting any effort into it. She yelped when she flew up a good ten feet before starting back down. She wasn't expecting it and flailed a bit, nearly causing her to fall on her face, but her body suddenly moved outside of her control—fast and flexible, she contorted into a ball and landed splayed out in a three-point handing.

"Very cool," she murmured. Shifting around, she crouched and jumped as hard as she could. A cracking sound came from the roof beneath her and her body arrowed straight up what had to be a good fifty feet, before falling back down. Once more, she wasn't quite in control as she pulled into a backflip. Thin tentacles of black material caught her as she landed, distributing her weight over the surface of the roof and acting to absorb much of the impact.

"Definitely Brute power." Missy felt downright elated as she focused on a spot near the train yard, visible from her higher vantage. Walking through, she made a few more short hops before stepping out on the edge of the deserted, fenced in property. "Warehouse?" she asked, looking at an abandoned warehouse.

"Probably full of hobos," Miles supplied.

"Worth a shot," Missy countered. She quietly hurried over, slipping from shadow to shadow as she moved, keeping her head on a swivel as she watched for potential threats. Peeking into a broken window on the ground level of the first warehouse she came to, she held her breath and listened. There was a quiet conversation going on somewhere deeper inside, so she moved on to the next area. Eventually, she found an old, unoccupied maintenance area.

Looking around, Missy spotted a thick, rusty, solid metal bar laying on the floor along with some discarded chains and tools, such as a wrench that looked longer than she was tall. "That's got to weigh, what, a good two hundred pounds?"

"Probably," Miles agreed as Missy moved over to the bar.

Reaching down, she got her hands around one end of the bar and hefted it up easily. "Huh."

She lifted the bar up off the ground and gave it a few test hefts, not really feeling the weight. Grinning, she tightened her grip on it and whipped it into a spinning blur of rusty metal around her body. Self-defense classes during her tenure as a Ward had included unarmed and a bit of armed combat—including a few courses with improvised and common martial weapons. Unfortunately, her parents had vehemently denied signing her up for any of the shooting courses.

The bar whooshed through the air as she flicked it this way and that before finally coming to a stop. Looking between the end of the bar and the concrete floor, Missy gave a mental shrug and lifted the bar… then slammed the end of it down into and through the concrete, burying the bar a good foot down. "Still don't feel tired, or like I've hit any sort of limit."

"Me either."

She tried a few more experiments with the wrench and chains, to similar results, before giving that up. Leaving the maintenance shop, she looked around until she found a few abandoned train cars. On the side in faded paint were the cars' listed weight: 30 tons. "What do you think?"

Missy felt her body move out of her control in a shrug, before resuming moving under her direction. "Maybe. Try pushing one first. That should be easier than lifting."

Moving around to where the cars connected, Missy studied the connector for a moment before working it loose and disconnecting the cars. Moving to the side of the one at the back of the trio of empty box cars, she put both hands on the car and braced against the ground before flexing as hard as she could. Slowly but surely, the car began to move away from the others. Letting it go, she waited for it to stop then moved to the side of it. Finding a good angle, she tried to knock the rail car onto its side. Aside from shifting slightly on the rails, nothing happened.

"Strong, but not that strong."

"We need some middle ground between a few hundred pounds and tons. Maybe find a car and see if we can lift it."

Missy nodded her agreement. "I'd like to test your durability, but I don't like the idea of getting shot."

"Let's not. Not yet, anyway. Maybe later. I think that with more mass, I would get stronger too."

Humming, the blonde considered the request for more food versus the paltry amount of cash in her wallet. "You said you don't taste what you eat?"

"Right."

"So raw meat would be fine?"

"Should be."

That would still be expensive though. On the other hand… "What about live prey?"

Her shoulders shrugged again. "Never tried it."

Missy smiled, hopping easily on top of the empty box car. Looking around, she found an empty spot closer to the Bay and warped space. A few more warps like and she was standing on the beach. They had a long stretch of it to themselves at this time of night, so with a naughty little grin, Missy began stripping. Her shirt came off over her head, followed by her bra as she toed off her shoes. Socks, pants, and panties followed. She was about to leave everything in a pile on a bench, along with her wallet and phone, when black goop swallowed the whole pile and it disappeared from her hands.

Missy blinked, before a frown pulled at her pretty lips. "Did you just eat my stuff?"

"Kind of? I can still feel it, it's not… not here. I think I can either make or have access to a pocket dimension."

"Neat," Missy nodded.

She turned and walked out into the water of the Bay. Even at the beginning of summer, the water this far north was normally chilly—especially at night. Missy felt the water, felt that it was cold, but it was a sort of detached feeling—it didn't bother her at all. No shivering, no gooseflesh, her nipples didn't even react when she reached chest height and dove in to begin stroking out into the Bay. "More Brute power," she pointed out, rolling over onto her back and looking at the stars, the air cool on her skin through the layer of 'goo' surrounding her body like a skintight suit.

Well, he kind of is acting like living clothes in a way. He even said he thought he could do clothes. It wouldn't be unfair to describe it as a 'suit' at this point, even as thin as it is.

She pulled her mind back to the task at hand. "So, what about fish? Those count as 'mass,' right? They're alive, they're essentially just meat and bone…"

Miles hummed in her ears and she felt something shift and extrude from her back, and a new sensation entered her brain as multiple tendrils extended out into the water. "I think… Yeah, I can sense them. Hang on."

It was only a matter of a few moments before she felt one of the tendrils somehow grow sharp and barbed on the end, like a harpoon, before it lanced out and speared a large fish. Instead of reeling the fish in a she expected, countless smaller tendrils spread out from the larger tendril, burrowing into their prey and eating it alive as they moved. It was over only a moment later and the tendrils were returning to their semi-relaxed state, waving in the water.

"That's… weird. I think I got something from that."

"Eh? What do you mean, 'got something?'" Missy asked, idly stroking both arms back a few times as she kept herself afloat and enjoyed the view. She had done this on occasion, rarely, over the last few years as Vista. But usually only in the middle of summer, and mostly after a long patrol. It was one of her favorite ways of relaxing that didn't involve using her vibrator.

The man-turned-puddle sounded frustrated. "It's hard to explain. I feel kind of like some new option opened up, like I could grow new things but the pattern's not quite complete."

Missy raised an eyebrow at that. "Try eating more?"

"That's what I'm thinking."

Over the next few minutes, tendrils speared out and snagged a few more fish, before finally, Miles laughed. "Okay, I think I've got it."

"Oh?" Missy asked. Instead of a verbal answer, she felt something shift against her sides and a sort of tingle like when Miles first invaded her body around the area of her ribs and lungs. Then her body moved outside of her control and she dove underwater.

She couldn't see for shit underwater, but even with her eyes open she didn't have the familiar 'water in eyes' sensation that accompanied trying to open one's eyes underwater thanks to the layer of living suit over her eyes. Missy held their breath as they swam for the bottom, eventually abandoning a standard human swimming method as the living suit around her formed tentacles about her waist connected by a skirt of more material and some sort of pseudo-fins along her arms and started propelling her that way.

After a little over two minutes by her count, Missy realized they weren't coming up for air and she was running out. She began to panic, trying desperately to take back control of her body and failing.

"It's okay. Relax. Exhale and don't inhale. It's probably going to feel weird, but you'll be fine."

Allowed that little bit of control over her body, Missy did as she was told and exhaled. She fought the instinct to inhale and was rewarded with her lungs filling with sweet air as something pumped air directly into them. Miles was right, it felt strange. And on the exhale, bubbles expelled from under her arms, along her ribs.

Gills. He grew fucking gills, she realized.

"Okay, yeah, the feedback here is a little weird for us both. I'm going to hand over breaching control to you. Keep your mouth closed and try to inhale without, well, using everything from the throat up."

She felt it when he stopped breathing for her. Focusing on her internal muscles, she began breathing manually. It was strange not breathing in through her nose or mouth, but the expected vacuum of trying to expand her lungs with her mouth and nose closed never occurred, and instead she felt water rush over part of her new gills and out another part as her lungs filled with air.

"Oo eerd," she muttered through her mouth, the words coming out distorted underwater.

"Careful with that. I can remove water from your lungs, but I'd rather not trip drowning instincts and a panic attack."

Missy nodded, and blinked at finding her body working mostly under her own power. Her arms and legs were still outside her control and she couldn't control the tentacles propelling them, but she felt pretty much normal otherwise. This would be more fun during the day, she mused as they zipped through the water, snapping up fish, crabs, lobster, and more. Everything living that crossed his path got eaten, including one small, unlucky shark and a couple of octopuses.

Eventually, they surfaced just off the beach and the tentacles retracted, leaving Missy fully in control of her body again. Her sides tingled and the gills disappeared. She stepped out of the surf and onto the beach and, between one step and the next, the thin layer of suit over her body matching her flesh swelled in places, shifting, before it became indistinguishable from the clothes she'd been wearing earlier—shoes included. The transformation was fast, too—much faster than the first times Miles had tried shifting.

"You're getting better at that," she smiled.

"I've got mass to work with now and it's getting easier with time. I picked up a few things from those octopi too, so that helped with the shapeshifting. That pretty much proves that if I eat enough of anything, I can gain traits from it. For instance, behold!"

Missy's form rippled, more suit exploding outwards and leaving her standing taller, in a bulky form covered in some kind of armor that felt to her fingers like… "Crustacean shells?"

"Yup. Hang on, let me streamline…"

Missy shrank back down to her normal form, losing all the height and bulging muscle mass. The armor shifted and changed, huge pieces becoming segments no larger than a fingernail for the most part, aside from the larger, angular pieces covering her breasts and outlining the feminine six pack she had earned, and the 'helmet' around her head—which took on a mixture of hard angles in the front and swooping curve along the sides and back. The face was completely blank, with no eye or mouth holes, and yet she could see and breathe just fine.

"So, we have a combat form. Definitely higher numbered Brute/Changer."

"'We.'"

"Yes, 'we.' Come on, get rid of all that shit and let's go," Missy said, and started walking. The suit shifted back into her clothes as she walked across the sand. Space twisted and put her on a rooftop a quarter mile away. "Now listen. I think we should team up. You need someone to wear you, or bond to, right? It seems to me like your power is something like 'living clothes—'"

"More like symbiote, but close enough. I can't function well on my own, no. It doesn't have to be you. You have responsibilities—school, your parents, you're a Ward. More than that, you're just a kid—"

"Don't you fucking dare," Missy growled. "I am sick and fucking tired of that shit!" Miles fell silent at her not-quite yell. "I'm young, yes. That doesn't mean I'm stupid, naive, or less capable."

"Ignorant, because you don't know better. And yes, less capable because of your literal, physical difference in biological stature compared to your peers."

Missy glared at empty space as she walked, retracing her path over rooftops through the city. "Okay, yeah. But experience cures ignorance and even if I'm less physically capable, I'm a god damned Shaker 9. I'm the most powerful Shaker on the eastern seaboard, arguably the most powerful in the United States. I've been a Ward since I was eleven. I have training and experience—things you aren't going to find with someone else. And you make up for any physical differences. Plus, you're obviously older than me, so you've got more life experience too. I'm not so stupid that I'd disregard that."

Sighing, she stopped walking and moved to the railing of a building looking out over the city. "You were right, you know? The PRT? Protectorate? Even the Wards. They couldn't find their assholes with both hands and a map. I feel like I'm the only one with some common fucking sense but I'm being held back by bureaucrats and Public Relations agents. Get this shit: my team has me, Kid Win, Gallant, Aegis, Triumph, and Clock on it. With just two of us, and a couple of foam grenades, Clock and I could take out most of the gangs in a single night. I've brought it up to Armsmaster, but his answer is 'it's too dangerous.' And if these assholes are going to go around kidnapping, raping, enslaving, or killing people why the fuck are we supposed to treat them with kid gloves and not go after their civilian identities? 'Escalation?' That's a bullshit excuse and they fucking know it!"

Miles waited as Missy's breathing heaved in and out, letting her settle down a bit from the explosive outburst. After a few moments, he said, "Suppose I did decide to team up with you. How do you propose we avoid the PRT thinking I've Mastered you or something equally asinine? The first thing they're going to do is demand I leave your body. The second thing they'll do, assuming I do go willingly, is stick me in a jar and you in a hole for M/S quarantine, to make sure I haven't brainwashed you or something. Then they'll probably try to partner me up with anyone but Vista, because that would be awful for PR. From what I'm seeing, my power behaves a lot like something out of a comic book from my Earth—a Venom symbiote, with some caveats for eating and adapting to things. My power only pretends to be pretty and PR friendly. Sure, it does a good job of it, but at the end of the day? It can get damn ugly. I'm talking 'make the Slaughterhouse look tame' ugly."

"So we don't do that. Duh. Either of those." When Miles was silent, Missy took that as her cue to elaborate. "How about this? We'll try it out for a few days. I don't have long left in school anyway, before summer break. I can go to school without you, keep up the normal routine, then we can go out a few more times at night like this and see how well we work together."

"That's not a permanent solution, Missy."

Missy nodded. "I know. Just… give me some time to think?"

There was a sigh before her head nodded. "Fine. Now, let's get you to bed. It's getting late."

The girl rolled her eyes, but obligingly made her way back to her home. Missy didn't bother with the keys, given how late it was. Instead, she widened the small crack under the front door and made her way inside without opening the door, then did the same with her bedroom door. The suit writhed around her, her form shifting in her full-length mirror from her disguise to her natural body. Miles produced her clothes, wallet, and phone, tentacles depositing each where they went as Missy gathered her things and made her way to the shower. A short scrub later, she flopped naked onto her bed. Well, naked save for the tiny layer of suit over her body. It really did feel amazing.

As the excitement from the night wound down, Missy hummed to herself quietly before she finally gave in to the itch between her legs and the all over tingle. "Hey."

"What?"

"Make my boobs bigger."

There was a pause. "Really? Now?"

"Yes, now."

A sigh in her ear preceded her small breasts swelling up and doubling in size, but losing none of their firmness. Missy's fingers trailed under them, then over, before finding the peaks. She hissed slightly as she tweaked her nipples. Well, not her nipples, but somehow, they felt like her nipples in the same way the rest of the suit felt like a second layer of her own skin. It relayed the feeling to her brain the same way. Meaning it was close enough to the same to feel damn good.

"Bigger. And softer," Missy asked and the suit around her complied, her breasts swelling in size again and growing somewhat less firm, allowing her fingers to sink in when she squeezed. And when she squeezed, dear God. Not like her real tits at all. Not so much as a twinge of discomfort, let alone pain. It was pure pleasure. Missy took full advantage by absolutely mauling her titflesh.

"Really?"

Missy opened one eye and glared into space. "Yes, really. You've got three choices: shut up, go away for a while, or help."

"Listen here, brat. I'm old enough to be your daddy—"

"Well then, are you going to teach me a lesson, daddy?" Missy asked. Yeah, she knew she was being a pill, but the entire situation was sexy on a level she hadn't realized even existed until she had a flood of goo trying to spit-roast her by accident. She had been at a low simmer ever since then, her panties constantly damp—even she was even wearing panties and not technically strolling around naked. And now, the guy that made it all possible was getting cold feet?

It was bad enough that Dean ignored her for Vicky, when the older blonde obviously couldn't make up her mind what the hell she wanted. To be rejected by the guy who had filled up her every nook and cranny, who had her heart racing and pussy wet most of the night, who knew her better than anyone else at this point by dint of sharing her body? She didn't want to consider it.

Her mind was dragged out of its slow downward spiral as the suit sprouted tentacles that matched her flesh tone. "Last and only warning. Speak up now, or I'm going to gag you so you can't scream then fuck you cross-eyed. If you're going to play adult games, I'll call your bluff."

"Not bluffing."

And those were the last words Missy spoke as, true to his word, a tentacle with a flared head very much like a cock rammed itself in her mouth. It swirled around, probing the roof of her mouth, her gums, teeth, and tongue. Missy took opportunity to try something she had been curious about ever since learning what blowjobs were. She sucked on the appendage in her mouth, flicking her tongue up and down what passed for the under side, then in circles around the head. Thick, slimy, but somehow sweet fluid started to leak from the tip as she tongued it, encouraging her to bob her head as much as she could given her position and the fact that she was being pinned and splayed by more tentacles.

More tentacles had wrapped around her arms and legs, forcing her spread eagle on top of the bed. A thick tentacle the width of her forearm around her waist and lower belly, pressing firmly into her abdomen, above her womb. A pair of tendrils wrapped around the huge (on her frame) breasts Miles had created for her, before squeezing them tight—to the point where she actually did feel a hint of pain, but that only made it feel better. Then the ends of those tendrils flowered open, even smaller tendrils thrashing and drooling within the flower-like maws, before they latched onto her nipples and started to suck, squeeze, pinch, roll them all at once—accompanied by the feeling of what felt like half a dozen tiny tongues flicking over them at the same time and driving her wild.

In addition to the tentacles holding her legs open, a second set wound up from her calves, past her knees, over her toned thighs, and stopped just shy of her pussy. Like the ones on her nipples, these flowered open and produced many slick tendril-tongues, which began lapping at her puffy pussy lips. After a moment of that, the one around her right leg bisected into two tentacles at the end, working at her lips, while the one from her left leg moved down… Missy moaned into the gag tentacle now thrusting deeper into her mouth, her hips writhing and trying to jerk away but finding no escape as the tentacle around her waist pulled her back into the flower at the end that had found her puckered anus, latched on, and begun to both suck and lick at her—a few tendrils even slipping past the tight muscle and inside.

A flopping length of thick, warm, gooey tentacle slapping against her mound drew her eyes, which had become hard to focus and started to roll in her head, down to the tentacle that would obviously be doing the deed. Missy whimpered, but the way she tried to wag her hips up and down was more inviting than trying to get away. The thick slab of tentacle, looking like nothing more than a particularly large cock at its end, moved down and started running up and down her slit.

"If you're thinking to yourself that that can't possibly fit, don't worry. I know exactly how much your body can take… and I can turn off pain receptors and heal minor damage. It's just a hair above what will fit comfortably without being painful. Now, are you ready to have your cherry popped, Missy? Absolutely last chance to back out—" Missy bit down on the tentacle in her mouth, hard enough to get attention but probably not hurt. "Ow! Little brat. Guess that means you want it then."

Missy nodded once and that was the last decision she had the brainpower to make for a while, as the tendrils working her lips spread her wide open and Miles's tentacle cock pressed into her, stretching her lips taut around its girth in a way that she felt probably should have hurt, exactly as he said it would. He didn't withdraw it and try to penetrate her in multiple strokes—no, that's what all the slime, all the lubricant was for. Instead, in a single, slow thrust he penetrated her to her core. She felt the tip kiss her cervix, then press in and fill her just a little more.

Then, because tentacles are absolute bullshit, the one nailing her to the bed split off into five parts—a thick central tentacle covered in knots and bumps and four smaller tentacles that each segmented further into tendrils at seemingly random intervals. While the knobbly central tentacle pulled back and started thrusting in and out of her cunt, rubbing each bump against the top of her channel on the out stroke and the bottom on the in stroke, the four smaller tentacles and their individual tendrils writhed and flexed, teasing out every nook and cranny inside her.

Missy came so hard she pissed her bed. Squirted! It was definitely a squirt and not piss.

Over the next few minutes, Miles eased her back down from orgasm, until she was reduced to the occasional shudder and clenching spasm of her cunt around his members. Then, one of the asshole's flower-headed tentacles latched onto her clit and began treating it as he was her nipples. She yelped as half a dozen tendrils flicked, rolled over, and squeezed at her clit all while the while flower sucked the little nub off and on.

Her nipples felt strangely distended and her breasts heavy.

"Want to see something cool?"

Missy moaned around the tentacle raping her mouth, nodding her head as much as she could given how she was restrained. A tentacle lifted her head and upper body, forcing her to sit up even as the ones around her arms brought them down and bound them tightly to her sides. The tentacle flowers on her nipples popped off, revealing two inch long, thick, dark red nipples—looking almost bruised from the attention they had been given. Then, the tentacles around her breasts began to squeeze in a rhythm—left, then right, from back to front, ending with squeezing her nipples.

The blonde watched in fascination as, after a few pumps—matching time with the five cock-tentacles alternating thrusts into her quim—white fluid beaded at the tip of one of her nipples. "Hn?!" Missy squealed around the gag, and suddenly, those droplets became a steady squirt, squirt, squirt—streams of white spewing away from her breasts as she was milked. And then she was coming again, her pussy positively gushing around the tentacles pounding her senseless.

Instead of easing her down, the tentacles sped up their work, fucking her through the first orgasm and straight into another, even as they began to twitch and spasm, spewing hot, sticky fluid that coated the inside of her womb to overflowing and started spurting back out onto the bed as the tentacles in her pussy kept on fucking.

Somewhere in the back of her head, Missy knew she couldn't handle this—not really. She had tried to come back to back before using her fingers and later, her vibrator, but it was just too much to the point that it started to hurt.

Now? There was no sense of over-stimulation to tell her to stop. Miles had shut that off and was taking ruthless advantage to deliver on his threat promise—to fuck her until her eyes crossed.

Missy was sure that if it weren't for the tentacle fucking her throat almost down to her stomach (with no sigh of her gag reflex kicking in!) and starting to fill her belly with the same thick spunk that clung to her womb even through being fucked, she would be wearing what the porn she liked called an 'ahegao face.'

And it just. Kept. Going.

Until Missy's poor brain packed it in and called it a night, the girl going completely limp mid-orgasm, somewhere into the double digits. A moment later, her eyes fluttered open and the tentacles retracted. Missy stretched, yawning as her body returned to its normal proportions. 'Milk' that had painted the wall across from her in white droplets suddenly rushed towards the floor, collecting into a stream of white that crawled up the bed and merged with her foot.

Likewise, the entire mess in the bed (save for where the dirty blonde had lost control of her bladder), flowed out of and off the comforter, rejoining the larger mass of symbiote. Then, because she didn't feel like sleeping in a wet spot, 'Missy' extended a few tendrils and cleaned up the mess as well, thankful that 'she' couldn't taste anything.

"Well, that was fun," the man driving the body belonging to Missy Biron hummed appreciatively. Sensation echo is weird. Fucking and being fucked by yourself at the same time is… fun, he decided. Like masturbating, using someone else's hand. Cute girl, in this case. Little too young for my tastes, but… well, this world is probably fucked and if I'm going down with it, I'm not going to worry too much over little things like 'age of consent' when she wants it.

Checking to make sure Missy's alarm clock was set, Miles laid the girl's body down and closed her eyes, before poking her brain in the way he now knew to send it into a deep slumber. And while Missy slept, he extended a tentacle from her body and powered her laptop back on. Typing in the password he'd seen her use, he began to research. He had questions that needed answering if he was going to try to avoid dying. Or turning into a Titan. Or any one of the numerous other fates worse than death in this universe.

Honestly, I think severing a shard connection entirely would be best for someone like Missy. I could just… eat her corona and gemma and be done with it. The problem is, that won't work for me. My body is… exploded into goo. If I stop having powers, I die. So, how do I deal with that?

There was an option. A slim option, given to him by what he had learned in the day since his change.

Going to need some serious luck to pull it off, though.

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