LoakaChunk
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Space Trucker
🕑 Added 2021-01-31 20:37:52 +0000 UTCSomething a little different. I needed a bit of a break from my usual fare to do something a bit more creative. Don't worry--it's still definitely got sex and definitely stars a truly colossal dude. Enjoy!
Gus was about halfway through his Valorian soap opera when he heard a loud thunk on his freighter’s hull. This alone wouldn’t have been enough to stop him from staring at the holoscreen and stuffing his face with fried soylent patties (BBQ flavored, naturally), but then the alarms started sounding. That was usually a bad sign.
Reaching around his colossal girth to deactivate the helm’s safety restraints, Gus started his slow tumble in zero gravity. Being a long-haul freighter meant that Gus often had to go long stretches without gravity, and that meant few opportunities to get even a small amount of exercise but ample opportunities to snack.
The shipping company Gus worked for--Uranus Shipping And Supplies--offered a generous retirement package that often included genetic regeneration and manipulation that would allow Gus to live a second life that was far less encumbered. At his current size, Gus knew he couldn’t even stand under normal gravity, let alone walk down his ship’s corridor. Not that he was going particularly fast--even with a potential hull breach, Gus had learned the first law of physics meant that a man of his mass could still endure quite the injury if he collided with a bulkhead too quickly.
It wasn’t uncommon for long-haul freighters to grow to gargantuan size during their careers. Uranus Shipping--like many other freight companies--only paid enough in medical benefits to ensure that their ship captains survived their careers long enough for genetic editing to return them to a normal weight. In the meantime, Gus’s heart, lungs, and bones were modified to support almost 700 lbs of human in zero gravity.
And since there wasn’t a whole lot for Gus to do on the long journey from Europa Station 12 to Alpha Centauri anyway, it was a fair trade for someone of Gus’s modest upbringing. Endure a life of slovenly solitude to gain a better one later on.
Honestly, most of the work was done by the computers and droids anyhow. Gus just had to investigate and fix things when they went wrong--such as now, with alarms blaring of a potential hull breach.
A meaty mitt wrapped around a grab bar as Gus slowly floated past, his immense weight and significant aerodynamic cross-section providing enough friction to slow himself down where such a maneuver was possible. His chest and love handles would take ever more moments to stop moving, but for the moment, Gus was where he needed to be: cargo bay one.
Activating the bulkhead hatch with a few key presses, the large metal cylinder pulled itself inwards with a slight hissing sound as the two compartments equalized air pressure. Activating the lights by slapping his flabby palm on the side of the wall, Gus could see a sizable breach in the ship’s outer hull. Automatic emergency force fields had already been activated to prevent explosive decompression, but Gus could tell at least two crates of Pentinian Blood Oranges had been sucked into space.
“Aw, fuck,” Gus muttered as he pushed himself through the hatch carefully, fully aware that he was only slightly smaller than the hole he was propelling himself through. He floated slowly over to the leading edge of the forcefield and relied on his substantial front cushion to soften the impact with the inner hull.
Of course, using one’s belly as a brake isn’t exactly a precise way to halt a nearly spherical mass in zero-g. For the umpteenth time, Gus rebounded off the wall and began to slowly rotate vertically such that in a few moments he was pointing ass in the air and head to the floor. On the plus side, this gave him a closer view of the hull breach so he could get a better idea of what had hit him.
Over 99% of the time, it was just a tiny rock floating in space that just happened to slip through his freighter’s forward arrays. The automatic emergency field often prevented such a rock from maintaining enough velocity to fully penetrate the ship, and Gus would usually come to see a smoking pebble on the ground. This time, Gus didn’t see anything like that. Instead, he saw a strange green goo.
Reaching out as far as his ham-like arms would allow, Gus scraped an index finger across the goo and brought it to his face for inspection. This action slowed Gus’s tumbling considerably, so it was almost a minute before Gus was right-side up again. He spent that time looking at the goo, testing its consistency between his thumb and forefinger, and determined in his completely uneducated opinion that it was indeed some sort of green goo.
Only after Gus returned to near-vertical did he realize that sitting in the center of the cargo bay between himself and the exit was a large mass of tentacles with way, way, WAY too many eyes.
<<Greetings, human,>> said the creature, eyes blinking at random intervals and tentacles waving in zero gravity. Gus heard the words in his head without first going through his ears, and this, combined with the creature’s frightening appearance, proved to be too much for him.
Gus screamed.
The creature blinked several times, but continued. <<Please, there is no need for alarm. I have boarded your vessel because my species requires alien DNA to procreate, and I have determined you are an ideal specimen of your kind.>>
Gus continued screaming.
The creature’s tentacles began to squirm in a way that might have conveyed calm, but to Gus it only seemed threatening. <<My species does not have ears with which to hear, but I can tell from your open food orifice that my presence has surprised you unduly. For this, I apologize.>>
Gus’s screaming had gotten to the point where tears were streaming down his face, phlegm had started streaming down his nose, and he was desperately trying to propel himself away from the creature by wildly contorting his obese body, which did little other than cause his excess flesh to wobble uncontrollably.
<<My name cannot be pronounced using your language, but you may call me Bob.>>
Each time the creature spoke, Gus’s contortions gained a new measure of desperation. On his fourth rotation, Bob finally concluded he just wasn’t going to make first contact the easy way.
<<Ah, fuck it.>> Bob’s dozens of eyes rolled and his tentacles slumped. <<Let’s just get this over with.>>
With that, Bob reached out, righted Gus, and brought him so that his round face was within inches of the creature’s largest eye. Then a wet tentacle slapped into the side of Gus’s face and started wriggling its way inside his right ear.
At first, it hurt, but then Gus felt an unnatural calm suffuse his entire being. His screaming rictus fell into a dull grin, his mouth open from which he exhaled a happy sigh. It was a lot like the few times he’d done hyper-hashish, but without the itchy palms and excessively dry mouth.
<<Okay, looks like I’ve successfully tapped into your central cortex to make this a more efficient and enjoyable experience. Your motor functions will be suppressed, mostly, so just sit back and enjoy.>>
Gus was already enjoying… whatever was going on. He felt great. Really great. Better than he’d ever felt before. And, he realized after a few moments, he felt surprisingly horny.
Deep below his apron and between thighs larger enough to have given a Buntarian rhino a run for their money, Gus could feel himself hardening. It’d been years since Gus had been able to reach his own dick, but technology allowed him to gratify himself whenever he wished--provided he could lift his own stomach out of the way long enough to do so. Even in zero gravity, 700 lbs was a lot of mass, and he couldn’t let go lest his bulk knocks whatever self-gratification device he’d attached to his groin loose.
Lately, Gus had taken to simply grinding himself against his own fat whenever the mood struck. His head only barely escaped his fat pad fully erect, and the rest of his groin had grown around his dick so it was essentially a built-in cocksleeve. A few moments to let pre-cum lubricate his groin was enough so that he could just rut himself whenever he wanted.
Like now. Gus began to thrust his hips just enough so he could feel his cock slide past the hairy skin that it was mostly buried in, getting hornier and hornier by the second. Soon he could feel himself start to leak, lubricating his body’s fuck tunnel and making his thrusts all the more pleasurable.
<<Already halfway there, I see,>> Bob noted, eyes blinking as they scanned Gus’s drooling face. <<Then let us begin in earnest.>>
A pair of tentacles began slithering up and around Bob’s firth until they were encircling his mantits, then the tips seemed to morph into suction-cup-like appendages that attached themselves to Gus’s nipples. Even though the synthetic fabric of his jumpsuit, Gus could feel the tentacles perform a suckling action that felt immensely pleasurable.
More pre started to flow from Gus’s buried cock, to the point where Bob the alien began to notice a damp spot forming in his quarry’s groin. More tentacles slipped around Gus’s body in search of access to what Bob could only assume were the human’s genitals somewhere between his lower appendages.
To Gus, it just felt like there were dozens of people all feeling him up. The chemicals flooding directly into his brain started taking on a hallucinogenic quality, and Gus imagined he was surrounded by lithe, darting concubines in a zero-gravity harem. They were all touching, groping, and caressing every part of him, from head to toe, belly to breasts and butt. It was the most arousing foreplay Gus could ever ask for.
Bob, however, had never heard of the concept of “clothes” before and was having a devil of a time trying to figure out the blob-like human’s anatomy. He’d learned from his kin the broad strokes of where to find various human organs, but this one was proving to be unlike any of the psychic descriptions his kind had offered him.
By now, Gus’s thrusting had picked up in pace. The damp spot in his groin had become increasingly dark, and after a few more thrusts, Gus began to grunt and tremble as he filled whatever space remained in the front of his jumpsuit with his own cum.
<<Fuck, I needed that!>> Bob flailed a few of his back-facing tentacles in panic and brought several more to Gus’s groin, where the tips morphed into a sort of proboscis and began to lap up whatever cum seeped through the fabric. To Gus, it felt like his harem had begun kissing feverishly around his groin in order to keep him hard and horny, and it worked extremely well.
It only occurred to Bob after he’d sucked all the juices he could that the fabric was in fact not an important part of Gus’s body, and could be removed without any real damage to his subject. Morphing his tentacles into scalpels, the alien quickly sliced Bob out of his suit, the massive man’s billowing form exploding outward from each slit.
In seconds, Gus was naked, still drooling from both his mouth and his cock. Bob’s tentacles resumed their exploration but zeroed in on the source of the largest quantity of fluid emanating from between the human’s lower appendages.
Gus felt his harem lift up his belly, push back the fat surrounding his genitals, and then start kissing in rapid succession. It was like dozens of mouths had surrounded every inch of his groin--there was simply no other sensation like it. He would have screamed out in pleasure if the tentacle wriggling in his ear would have allowed it. Instead, he simply drooled a bit harder.
<<Here we go,>> Bob muttered to himself, sure that he’d found the human’s penis now. The alien maneuvered himself lower and enveloped Gus’s entire lower body in order to bring his DNA reception sac as close to the human’s genitals as possible. Then, with a mental sigh, the alien closed all of its optical organs and released one last dose of pheromones.
To Gus, it felt like each of his mental concubines was taking turns either sucking his cock or shoving their asses beneath his gut and fucking themselves on his dick. In reality, Bob had engaged several internal organs that stimulated Gus’s prostate to continuously emit as much semen as his body could produce without damage. And due to Gus’s massive energy reserves, Gus could theoretically produce quite a lot.
Gus was incapable of counting, but even if he weren’t, there was no way he would have been able to keep track of the dozens of orgasms that racked his body. Later, internal ship cameras would just show a rippling, jiggling Gus floating in the cargo bay with a green blob attached to his groin--a blob that was slowly but surely filling up with white.
The process took almost 40 minutes, and by the end of it, Bob had sucked out enough DNA-laden fluid to ensure its breeding cycle for many generations. Gus had lost over 45 lbs, although he wouldn’t discover that until much later. Somehow, the alien was able to rapidly increase Gus’s fertility, converting excess fat into energy and sperm as necessary.
It also had the unintended effect of enlarging Gus’s testicles by almost double. This proved to be more of a curse than anything as it would take Gus weeks to figure out how to settle his bulk without accidentally squishing his own balls.
But that wasn’t Bob’s problem. The alien creature had gotten what it had come for. Detaching from Gus, the creature ambulated towards the force field and pushed itself through the breach in the hull. Gus would float there in space, a trail of residual cum floating from his groin, for the next eight hours. It was the best sleep he’d ever had.
