The Hive of Debauchery 1

Story by draconicon on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Commissioned by FlimFlamFun5, this is a four part series that will probably remain incomplete, due to it not matching with what he was initially considering. Problems with not giving me the clear idea of what one wants, but the story is still fun if you like the idea of parasite aliens taking over a college town.

If you're interested in contributing more frequently, consider visiting my Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/draconiconlibrary?ty=h for good rewards and better stories.

If you simply want to get a commission for yourself, keep an eye on my journals and my twitter DraconiconWrite for updates on when I'm open.

Enjoy.

Part 1: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1551434 (You are Here)

Part 2: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1551435

Part 3: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1551437

Part 4: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1551439


The Hive of Debauchery

Part 1

For FlimFlamFun5

By Draconicon

Patrick was as stereotypically a college student as one could imagine. He had gotten in on a sports scholarship - despite the tropes of foxes, he was a fast runner, and he worked well on the college soccer team - and he wore his sports jersey everywhere he went. The red-furred fox had a girl on each arm after most of his games, and he could almost always be found at the frat house when he wasn't either on the field or in the classroom. Hell, sometimes even he was supposed to be at the other places.

Known as a lady's man, another mold-breaking moment for a fox, he had just finished a date and had gone off-campus to get a celebratory beer. His car coughed as he slowed down outside the bar, the whole thing rattling slightly when he brought it into park.

Guess I'll have to get it into the garage after all, Patrick thought as he stepped out of the vehicle. The whole thing was probably due for a hell of a tune-up, really, but he'd been delaying it in order to continue his fun at college. If he lost his wheels, though...

Well, he'd see to it in the morning. The fox shrugged, clicking his bootheels against the pavement as he turned towards the bar.

The Rat's Ass was the cheapest bar in town, and it served the most watered-down beer that one could imagine. Just opening the door and taking in the air made it clear that it was not the sort of place that you came to for the atmosphere, not unless your idea of a good time involved cheap hookers and cheaper alcohol. Women in skirts so short that they looked more like dishcloths wandered from table to table, leaning down and showing their tits to their customers, while waiters that were crossdressing for their customers got their asses pinched as they went from table to table, bringing beer and harder stuff to those ordering it.

Patrick just shook his head, fanning the smell of smoke and sex out of his face as he walked up to the bar. The tender, a rat by the name of Sean, looked up at him.

"Here for the usual?" Sean asked.

"Of course. Got my 24-pack?"

"Not today, man."

"What?"

"Bunch of freshmen came in and cleared the stock."

"Seriously? I asked you to keep one for me."

"You snooze, you lose."

The fox shook his head. The frat house was expecting him to come home with something after his date, and whether that was a floozy for them to enjoy or a bunch of beer for them to drink, he had to get something. He glanced over his shoulder at some of the women behind him, but none of them would be up to the other guys' standards. They'd be turning up their noses at what was essentially free pussy.

Then again, couldn't blame them, really. Everyone here probably had at least one STD, or they'd be working at one of the strip clubs further off. He shook his head.

"Got anything else?"

"Got a few other brands."

"Got anything cheap?"

"...Maybe," Sean said, looking side to side. "Got a little something that fell off the truck, you know what I'm saying?"

"I hear what you're saying. Is it for sale?"

"Sure. You got cash?"

"Sure do. You got the beer?"

Sean had the beer, alright, and plenty of it. Considering the bargain-basement price for the stolen stuff, the fox paid everything that he had on him. With a couple hundred cans of beer, it would keep the frat house happy for a while, and they'd stop nudging him to flirt with every passing chick for them. The fox was happy enough to lend a bit of fun to the guys, but they needed to up their game.

He stocked it all in the back of his car. The vehicle groaned as he loaded it up, reminding him to get it to the repair shop the next day, and he found himself wondering if it would be able to hold together all the way back to the frat house.

He hoped so. He couldn't afford a tow, now. With a wave to the rat for his help, he was off.

Under the streetlights, the streets looked cheap and trashy like they never did in the day. No people to hide all the debris that covered the streets, nothing to hide the skeletal structures of buildings that were half-done and then abandoned. The moonlight occasionally glinted off of rusting needles in the pockets between sidewalk and building, and he could see more than a few people hiding in the alleys between the different structures.

The whole town was slowly falling apart. The only thing that was keeping it going was the college, and he doubted that would last forever. The eggheads he knew on campus were building up the credits to head somewhere else, and he wasn't the only jock that was looking to transfer once they got a good enough reputation.

Nobody wants to spend all their time here. Nothing happens. Nobody notices you out here. If you want to make a name for yourself, you gotta go somewhere else, he thought as he turned onto one of the side roads. Least every road leads back to the college. Heh. Means that even if I was drunk I could find my way -

He didn't have a chance to finish that thought before something sparkled in the night sky above him. Patrick cocked his head to the side, leaning forward to see if he could spot it again.

He spotted it, alright. He spotted it just as it came flying out of the sky, pinged off his hood, and sent him into a spin.

"Whoa!"

The fox spun the wheel in a desperate attempt to take control of his car again. As the vehicle rolled sideways, almost flipping over, Patrick threw himself around. It leaned, tilted...

Then finally came back down, facing the wrong direction, but safe. Panting for breath, Patrick instinctively turned in towards the curb, driving into a safe spot -

Clunk.

Just in time for something to come free under the vehicle. He groaned under his breath, knowing it was probably something that would be expensive to replace, but he didn't have time to think about that right now. What mattered was that he was out of the way of any oncoming traffic, and he wasn't going to get killed while he sorted himself out.

"Holy...fuck..."

Something had hit his car. That much, he remembered. Something had hit his car, which had set off the spin, and...

And it had bounced off, hit the sidewalk...

Fuck. Fixing this thing is going to cost thousands...might as well see if whatever hit me is worth anything...

Patrick grumbled as he stepped out of his car, looking down the alley. He could see the chunks of concrete that had been knocked free by the impact, and he could tell that it must have been something heavy. Maybe it was just some sort of falling star that had been an unlucky hit, but maybe there was something important there.

And if there was a reward, it might be something worth turning in. He'd have to pay for his car with something.

He walked down the alley, pulling out his cell phone and using its flashlight to follow the trail. It came to a stop just beside a dumpster, and he shook his head as he saw the hole that had been knocked around the trash bags.

"Great..."

Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained. The fox had come from a poor enough background to have some experience with the dirty stuff, and better to look and get a little messy than to avoid it completely. He rolled up his sleeves, squatted down, and got to work.

He didn't notice the little slime trail coming out from under the bags, nor did he notice the little things that were squirming around under the garbage dumpster. He didn't notice anything, not even the slowly stretching creature that was right under his tail.

Not until it was too late.

It wasn't until the seat of his pants melted, sending a draft under his tail, that he realized that anything was happening at all, and by the time he looked down between his legs, it was too late.

POP!

"AH!"

Patrick fell backwards, landing flat on his back. His phone skittered away from him, the light flashing down the alley and lighting it up.

All around him were little slugs, lots of them. Some were stretched out, expanding by almost two feet in length, while others were all scrunched up, barely an inch long. They were all soaked with a strange slime, something that looked like it would glow in the dark, but it was the fact that there were dozens of them around...and the fact that they were completely alien...that worried him.

They were colored wrong, red and black rather than the usual brown of earth slugs. They moved quicker, too, one of them moving faster than a slithering snake across the ground. One of them had already slid into the hole between his legs and -

"NNNGH!"

The fox bit his lips, gasping as he felt it pushing into him. He shook as he tried to reach down between his legs, feeling it whipping side to side, almost more like an eel than a slug as it wriggled against his asshole. It was forcing him open, dragging itself inside, forcing more and more of its body into him with each passing second. He bit his lips again, trying to find the air to scream -

"Ah!"

Not a scream, but a gasp, a sudden hissing of air that left him as the slug grabbed hold of something inside of him that was sensitive beyond measure. His eyes bugged out of their sockets as it kept slithering in, biting and nibbling on that little thing again and again.

The fox rolled on his side, feeling the slug between his thighs as it kept pulling itself inwards. The slow, slimy passage of it past his anus, forcing its way inside of him, was slowly changing. No longer slimy, weird, or even painful, but...

But strangely...

Pleasurable?

His eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open as he struggled to catch his breath. He tried to shake his head in denial, tried to scream.

The next 'bite' in his ass was enough to leave him shaking, his fingers curling into fists as he felt something sliding into his prostate. It was like a little needle, but unlike a real one, it didn't hurt. It felt...good, almost like something was being pushed into him that was true, liquid pleasure. His cock started to rise in his pants, his balls churning from the pressure in his prostate.

"Oh god...oh god..."

He bit his lips, struggling to get up, but his body felt weak, wrong, limp. Nothing that he did seemed to work, his entire body just ignoring his commands. It was like it was trying to drop him down, like he was unable to do anything.

The only thing that he could move were his eyes. They flicked back and forth, watching as the various slugs disappeared, moving into their hiding places, running out into the street, doing anything they could to spread out. He couldn't figure out what to do, couldn't understand what was happening -

Another bite, another needling feeling, and his cock throbbed harder, thrusting forward in his jeans, forming a hell of a tent in front of him. He gasped for breath, struggling to keep himself from being distracted by -

Another bite, and he moaned, flopping onto his back like a fish out of water. His mouth opened and closed, and he realized that he wasn't the one that was controlling his breathing. He kept opening and closing his mouth, his eyes wide, his body shaking as he tried and failed to make it do something, anything.

He arched his back, his fingers flexing, then curling. Not him, not him doing it, but something else. Each little movement was followed by some sort of pleasurable feedback, something jolting him in the prostate, making his cock swell all the harder.

"Ah...ah...ah..."

He panted, his mouth opening with a breath, then closing, then opening to let it out again, then closing again. Every time, he felt...something. Like an echo, something that rebounded back from other things. One breath, then another, then another.

It took almost a minute for him to realize that one of the rebounds was coming from one of the other slugs. They...they were communicating with each other, and he was the antennae that was catching all of the different transmissions. It was all coming in and out of his mouth, calling to them and then getting their responses back.

Oh god, what...what's happening...to...to me...

The Hive is All.

The voice came from somewhere else, and it came with a power and determination that forced his thoughts to silence. The fox went still on the pavement, staring straight up at the night sky as the slug finally pushed all of its body up his ass.

The Hive is All. You are Hive.

It was a powerful voice, echoing from his rump up his spine and into his brain. He could feel the vibrations of it, low and deep, echoing and shivering his body all the way from head to toe. He didn't know how to take it. All he could do was follow orders.

They came without words, commands to get up. It was like there was a needle going through his prostate all the way up to the base of his spine, and every time that the slug moved that needle, his body moved in response, like a joystick that allowed it to control him. He extended one leg, then the other, stretching them out. The movement gave him pleasure, and his cock jerked, jolted, throbbed in his pants.

By the time that he had his hands under him, his cock was so hard and so slippery with pre-cum that he could have fucked a virgin dry. By the time that he was standing, he was on the verge of cumming in his pants.

The slug kept pushing on his prostate, almost like it was swallowing it, surrounding it. The pressure against it was becoming more universal and constant, and Patrick could hardly breathe through the pleasure. Certainly, he couldn't think through it.

The urges came, and he followed them, walking to the bags near the dumpster. He stuck his hand through the messy plastic, feeling around until his hand closed around something small, rocky, and warm. He pulled it out, holding it in front of him.

It wasn't quite like he was seeing through someone else's eyes, or that someone else was seeing through his. His mouth did, however, open, and there was another set of strange breaths that came free.

"Ah...ah...ah..."

He felt something coming back on the rebounds, like a view from a different angle, like he was seeing the rock in his hand from somewhere on the ground. Another slug, probably, he realized distantly.

Home. Nest. Eggs.

The fox was made to put the rock in his jacket. He did as he was told, and then followed the next order to lower himself into a squat. He didn't know why, but he followed the order, staring blindly forward, his thoughts lost in a sea of pleasure.

He felt the slug moving again, stretching, pushing, until -

Glorp.

The feeling of the slug pushing its tail back out of his asshole was something that was entirely different. It wasn't quite like going to the toilet, considering it was moving on its own, but there was that strange sense of relief and violation at the same time. It felt like having a second tail, considering it was attached to his prostate, and he shivered as he rolled his hips slightly, feeling it feeding him different sensations.

The other slugs were coming back, crawling over to him. He looked down to see them at either sides of his shoes, at first, and then under him. They reached up -

"AH!"

He gasped out loud, his cock spurting cum into his pants. He felt it shooting, felt it pulsing from the second that the two slugs connected to each other. The information exchange was like raw pleasure being jolted through his prostate, up his spine, and right into his -

"AH!"

It was almost a scream, and would have been if he had the air to make it so. Patrick's cock went into a second orgasm, jerking up and down, painting the inside of his pants with his seed as the slugs exchanged information. Touch was pleasure. Information was pleasure. Connection was bliss.

They stroked each other, intertwining before coming apart. He shook as he squatted on the balls of his feet, the slug sticking out of him and swaying like a second tail, or a prolapse, or something like that. He didn't know, didn't think, just feasted on the pleasure that they gave him, his tongue hanging out.

Touch, touch, touch. They were sharing information. Roads. World. Energy. Location.

Location. Home. House. Frat.

Hosts.

That was the thing that got them more than anything else. The slugs seemed to...to vote, for lack of a better term, on what they were supposed to do next, and they all decided that they were to go back to the frat house. Back to the place with hosts. Patrick tried to say something, to protest -

"NNNNGH!"

Pleasure overwhelming, connection overpowering, bliss unending. He drooled as his pants darkened further, his jeans soaked to the brim with cum. His cock throbbed dumbly as he nodded, slave to the slug's will, slave to the Hive.

Hive-host will move.

He nodded, getting back to his feet, standing up as the slug slipped back into his ass with a slurp. The feeling of his asshole closing, soaked with slime, was pleasurable too. He stopped only to get his cell phone, and then moved out to the street.

His car was ignored. There was no need to walk. All he needed to do was keep his tail down. He could come back for his car later, to get...

To get...

Whatever had been important, he would come back for it. The Hive needed to find its host's home, and then find a way to find more hosts.

The frat house was right where it always was, right at the edge of the college campus and right inside of the boundaries where the laws changed a bit. It was the perfect place for loud parties, since the town couldn't really prosecute noise violations so easily, and the college dorms were far enough away for nobody else to really care.

Patrick didn't pay much attention to anyone on the lawn, nor to the people that were on the porch, laughing drunkenly after their latest party. The red fox walked through the front door, his tail low, his eyes half-blank.

He barely knew where he was until someone walked up and grabbed him by the shoulder, shaking him. He blinked, turning around, the parasite pulling back slightly from his prostate and giving him a slightly clearer head.

A big bull looked down at him, cocking his head to the side. He must have said something, but the fox had been too out of it to notice.

"Sorry," he managed to say, his ability to speak coming back to him. "What did you say?"

"I said, where's the beer, man? Where's the chicks?"

Chicks. He had been going for some of those, and the beer, and...and other things. He had been doing things. It was hard to think, but he remembered that.

Say something.

He came back to the car crash in his memory. Yes, that would do as an excuse. That'd be something that would get them off his back for a little while, telling them what had been going on, and...and...

No, no more thinking. Speaking.

"Something hit me, and my car went dead. I wasn't going to carry all that beer home by myself."

"Why didn't you call one of us?"

"No cell service."

"Damn. Think it's still gonna be there in the morning?"

"All shaken up, probably, but yeah."

"Okay. You just tell me where it is, and we'll go get it before class. Should be cold enough to keep it good, yeah?"

"Yeah...Brad."

Brad. That was the name of the bull. It had taken awhile for it to swim up from the depths of his pleasure-addled mind, but it was there. He nodded, making his way towards the steps.

"Hey, why don't you join in?" Brad called after him.

"Too tired. Gotta crash."

"Heh, well, up to you. Change your pants, too; looks like you pissed yourself when you crashed."

Probably did. He'd cum enough since then. Needed to collapse for another reason, though. Needed to look at things. Think. Figure out what to do next.

The slug on his prostate guided him up, following his thoughts towards where he needed to go. It was hard to think, hard to hold himself together, but he managed it. He moved to his bedroom, shut the door, and then flopped onto his back.

The slug made him pull out the rock nest, and he did, holding it in front of him. It wasn't very big, but it was definitely heavy, now that he held it in his hands. He wanted to see what it would do, but he realized that was something that was coming from the slug. It wanted to see the rock nest used to infect everyone here. It wanted the eggs to hatch, to find hosts, to spread and make things safe for them.

Patrick vaguely remembered what he had been thinking about before this whole thing had happened, and if he had been sober, he might have laughed. This was the place where nothing happened. This is the place where nobody really looked around, where nobody got known in the outside world.

If an alien invasion was going to start anywhere, they had found the perfect place to do it. This was where nobody would come to stop them, and nobody else would know that it had happened until it was too late.

The next was rocky, pecked and pockmarked with the debris of space, he imagined, but there was one hole. It was the place that the slugs had slithered out, he realized, and...

And more than that, it was just wide enough for something else to slide in.

"Nnngh..."

His cock throbbed in his pants as the slug started to collapse and collect around his prostate once more, squeezing it almost painfully hard. It forced his cock hard, his balls churning, getting thicker, heavier. He groaned under his breath as he felt his cock throb and press against the front of his pants as the parasite forced him to be erect again.

His hand moved on the slug's accord, opening his pants and allowing his cock free. The tip was already slippery, and it was pressed right against the rock nest. It slipped into the hole...mostly perfectly. It was tight, but thankfully smeared with the slime of the slugs and his own over-productive pre-cum. He knew that it was going to ache over time, if they were going to make him do what he thought they were going to do.

And they were.

Patrick gasped as he forced his cock into that hole, his body moving on its own, fucking the next. The first thrust bumped the head of his cock against a bunch of the eggs, the shells shifting around against the tip of his cock. This was impossible, so wrong, so very wrong, but he couldn't stop himself.

Thrust, pull, thrust, pull, each one making him make contact with the eggs, the next pulling on his cock and making it hard to drag back too far. He pumped forward, then pulled back, his arms and hips moving in synchronized gestures. Up, down, forward back. His balls were swelling, getting heavier, and he wondered what else the slug was doing to him.

Fertilize.

He gasped, arching his back, and his cock suddenly felt like it was exploding with cum, bursting with it as he flooded the inside of the nest. One shot of cum, two, three, four, the ropes of it coming free and grinding into the shells.

Hive is all.

"Hive is all."

Make hive. Fertilize.

He moaned as he came again, gasping for breath as his body ached down below. That didn't stop anything, though, even as he was made to cum, and cum, and cum, shooting his seed over and over again into the space rock. He could feel it sliming everything up, covering the eggs and getting absorbed.

Why? Why?

There was no answer from the slug, just more commands to fertilize, to cum, to flood the rock and give the eggs something that they apparently needed. Why? No idea, just...

Fertilize.

Patrick came again, one more shot of cum that drained his balls to the last drop. The fox would have flopped back, but the slug on his prostate either wasn't aware of the limitations of his body, or didn't care. What it did know was that he could still get hard, and that seemed to indicate that it needed to keep rutting.

**Fertilize.

Fertilize.

Fertilize.**

The fox's body was willing, but the mind was not. He passed out, the world going black as his arms kept pumping the rock up and down his spasming dick.

The night passed, and he woke shortly before dawn. Patrick's body ached from head to toe, and he could still feel the slime of the eggs and his seed against his cock. Some of it had come free, rolling down his cock and pooling down at the base, oozing down towards his balls and soaking them, too.

It wasn't...it wasn't a dream...

The red fox opened his eyes, looking down at the rock. It was no bigger than it had been the day before, obviously, but it felt different. He opened his mouth, that soft 'Ah...ah...ah' of breathing echoing out from his lips. He didn't even realize that he was doing it until the rebounds came.

The unborn slugs were not giving off anything on their own, but the echoes of his breathing came back. Two hundred eggs inside of it, each one growing, getting bigger. They'd be hatching in hours. They'd be looking for hosts just after.

The slug in his ass pushed out again, the tail extending free and wriggling through his sheets. The touch of it to other things made him moan, and he rolled slightly to the side, giving it more room to work.

Hive is all.

"Hive is all."

The Hive will grow.

"The Hive will grow."

You are Hive.

"I am Hive."

Hive is all.

They went through the routine again and again, and slowly, Patrick felt the pressure of the Hive coming down on him. Not just the one slug, but all of them, a hive mind that was under the pressure to grow and expand. Hints of memories came through, bits of information that the slug allowed to pass into his mind.

He saw a world that had broken, hosts destroyed, only a few rock clusters of nests sent out to hatch somewhere else.

He saw the nests breaking down, the laid eggs going into dormancy, to be awoken by the DNA of another species, to start filtering through it to fit their hosts better.

He saw the crash that had taken out his car, and he realized that there'd been some slugs that were just starting to hatch, their dormant periods ending.

They were here to stay, he realized. Here until someone was able to take them out, or until this world suffered a similar fate to the other one. Patrick realized all of that, knew that it meant the slavery of the entire planet if they got a foothold here in town...

And he didn't care.

Hive is all.

"Hive is all," he repeated like a drone.

The Hive will grow.

"The Hive will grow."

You are Hive.

"I am Hive."

And he was, and there was no getting around it. He had been taken in. He had been slaved to the Hive, a host, the first of many on Earth. Soon, the other eggs would hatch, and they'd start spreading through the different members of the frat house. They'd start learning the pleasure of being in the Hive, and then they would start working as drones for it. Drones that needed to spread, drones that needed to fulfill the growth of the Hive so that it couldn't be taken down again.

The parasite on him was taking in information, touching things with the slimy tail that it pushed out of his ass, and every little texture, every touch that it made, fed it data and him pleasure. He submitted to it, allowed it, got up to walk the tail around the room and wag his butt back at things for it to learn.

The computer.

The outlet.

The newspaper.

Everything that it wanted to know, he let it learn, and his tongue hung out as he allowed himself to be programmed, to learn about the Hive. There was so much to take in, but he would be a good drone.

Hive is all.

"Hive is all."

The End