This is a fictional sci-fi/fantasy story intended to be read by those over the age of 18. All characters are over 20 years old and encounters are purely consensual.

*****

Stars circle and flicker deceptively in the midnight sky outside the bay door of the launch hub. At this altitude, little light pollution from the urban jungle below impedes the gentle starlight that reaches across countless light-years to speckle the panorama. The bay doors, which lead to Halodin's thin upper atmosphere, are locked. They will remain locked unless ordered remotely from the command center --currently offline-- or opened manually using the control pad in the launch hub's hangar bay, which requires a lieutenant's clearance or higher.

Silas Aefin--son of President Al Aefin, who is the third-generation reigning guardian of Halodin and its surrounding moons--stands in the offline hangar bay, surreptitiously jumping between calculated blind spots in the surveillance system. As the president's second son--the spare, if you will--Silas has been reared from birth in adherence to the future king's servitude dogma. This upbringing, in addition to subjugating his life to extensive warrior training, has provided Silas with a particular understanding of the planet's defense systems and technology, making this calculated escape little more than a formality.

Before entering the hangar, Silas unscrewed hallway panel 44, making certain to keep the anti-tampering circuit that runs along the rear of the panel closed with a makeshift copper arc. He unhooked the circuit casing of the relay and rerouted the inputs so they echoed endlessly, linking his own communication compact--complete with counterfeit lieutenant clearance--to the output, giving him complete remote control of the hangar from his sideplate. The panel was left unscrewed to alert the morning crew to the hacking and allow for quick identification and repair of the problem.

Deftly avoiding all detection, Silas loads his belongings into the type II Starsail at the front of the hangar and latches the door behind him. With an unceremonious salute in the general direction of the palace below, where his entire family and livelihood sleep soundly, Silas opens the bay door with his sideplate, powers the Starsail, and accelerates out of the bay. In moments, he's clear of the upper atmosphere and pressing through into the void, without so much as a glance at his home world, shrinking into black behind him by the light of his home star.

Silas enables autodrive, and the mass-distortion hypersail assist course is set in the computer. He closes his eyes as the assist takes effect, increasing their mass and channeling the first anomaly of seven in a slingshot to accelerate the craft. Drifting into a comfortable semi-consciousness while hurtling away from all he knew and practiced for.

***

After the seven-fold slingshot, Silas enters the Nara-b system. By the light of star Anuba, this system has 10 inhabited worlds and is a safe 100 (give or take) light-years away from his home system.

Thousands of ages ago, when the systems made contact with each other, the Nara-b system was quickly established as precious beyond any will or want. Technological development in the Nara-b system was already incredibly advanced, eons beyond where Halodin was when contact was made. Inhabitants of the system are known as the Banarians. These beings are accomplished healers, using their natural-born talents of biological matter manipulation and the lush naturopathic flora cultivated on their planets to heal with unparalleled ability.

Since Contact, Banarians in the Nara-b system have been protected fiercely by order of interplanetary decree in exchange for their healing abilities to those who seek it. To attack a Banarian or its home is met with prompt annihilation of the attacker, along with any family extending three generations in all directions, as promised by the decree. It is thus that all citizens of the universe show a certain decorum when visiting, lest their bloodline be eradicated.

To facilitate peacekeeping in this system, there are guardians of the peace who regulate the customs department before one is allowed to shuttle to any planet. Silas approaches one such station and communicates with the traffic controller in a level-headed manner. He leaves absolutely zero room to be kicked out of the system for disorderly conduct.

After docking and pressurization of the landing hub, Silas offboards and registers his Starsail with the customs agent. The agent is of the Guardian Guild, but Silas has no idea what system she might be from. She looks like many other lifeforms from years of interbreeding between systems: tall and slender, with vaguely cyan skin stretched taut over lithe muscles. She wears the same slate-black jumpsuit as all members of The Guild and speaks in a stern, no-nonsense tone. Silas' interocular translator implant automatically converts her language.

"Type of craft?" She asks.

"Starsail from Halodin."

"Birth system ID?"

"HOO9-22." If Silas were traveling on official business for the king, he would have reported HOO9-22-C. He probably would have been promptly whisked through customs and given private transport to any planet he desired, no sooner than showing his credentials. But those days are over. Deserters don't get special treatment.

"Species?" She barks, shaking him out of the thought.

"Haldman, humanoid."

"Purpose of your visit?"

"Personal implant removal."

"All humanoid-adjacent species report to planet B-A, which is on shuttle 22. Is this satisfactory?

"Yes, this is fine." Silas responds and graciously takes the ticket she extends. Passing through security, he gives a quick blood sample to verify his genetic identity and then blends into the crowded shuttle platform.

He waits silently on a bench for the shuttle to enter the boarding area. His heart has scarcely ticked up a beat since leaving the system, and it does not waver now. It stays unnaturally steady, even when he is about to take the step that would sever him from ever being welcome back on Halodin again.

Members who pledge to the servitude dogma, as Silas did, are required to house what's called a Regulator. The implant sits at the base of the brain and provides a sort of regulation for the host's body. Hormones are kept at stable levels within the blood so that there is no unbecoming behavior or tendency for "acting out," as they might call it. Nervous stimulation within the body is also regulated so that the host does not experience swings in emotion or certain physiological reactions when they are not warranted. Every regulation and perturbation of the body's natural tendencies is modified until all that is left is the perfect soldier with a practically leveled affect: loyal, calculating, cool-headed. Always.

Silas was regulated on his eighteenth birthday at the request of his father, the King. It is the duty of all men born subsequent to the first-born male to find a noble purpose that will support the rule of the heir. Silas, displaying intelligence and cunning from an early age, was trained as a warrior and protector at his father's behest. He will one day protect his brother when he ascends the throne. Well, he would have.

Silas has come to Nara-b in hopes that he can have his Regulator removed. He hasn't laughed in six years. He hasn't cried in six years. Ever since he's been regulated, he hasn't so much as enjoyed the company of friends. It is not in his brain to feel sad about this. He can't possibly feel that. But he understands something is missing.

Silas has never been to Nara-b. He'd learned about the healing protocols for emergencies during his guard training, but that is the extent of his knowledge. He doesn't know if the Banarians will agree to remove an implant with the royal signet. Therefore, he is perfectly prepared to try to cut it out himself and, in his last dying breath, beg the nearest Banarian to heal him. But Silas very much hopes it doesn't come to that.

The shuttle arrives. Silas stands and boards the ship, taking the nearest free seat and staring ahead wordlessly. Emotionlessly. He secures himself in the harness and stares blankly at whatever crosses his path. All the other occupants are humanoid-adjacent species of some variety, but unlike his royal pureblood human ancestry that gave him both hairy and non-hairy tanned skin, most of the other creatures on the craft look like the customs agent--vaguely pale cyan and completely smooth.

Descent into b-A is quick, a brief acceleration from the shuttle station followed by mass distortion assist of the craft to the landing hub on the surface. The whole ordeal takes less time than waiting in the customs line.

The atmosphere on b-A is similar to Halodin in pressure and gravity. Gravity is roughly 85% of Halodin's, which makes walking for Silas a pleasure. Atmospheric pressure is lower as well, which is disorienting to most at first but soon comes to feel natural enough. Silas does not know the composition of the air, but it does not matter. The filter and conversion implant in his lungs takes care of converting what can be converted and supplementing the rest.

After exiting the station into the crisp warmth of a b-A summer day, Silas starts to see the actual inhabitants of this world--the Banarians. While interstellar travel has melded many different species together over the years through cross-species relations, the Banarians largely keep to themselves, scarcely ever even leaving their system except when on healing assignments. The guild has also implicitly discouraged mating with Banarians, largely because they fear their coveted abilities would be diluted with foreign blood. In actuality, it turns out that the restrictions hardly matter. Banarians have never shown much interest in mating with other species as far as Silas understands it. There are no half-Banarians out there and they honestly rarely even keep the company of other species. Whether it is prejudice or preference is unknown, and the Banarians have not been very forthcoming with inquiries into this matter; they are a rather secretive species.

Banarians are considered stunning by the standards of any humanoid-adjacent species. Most stand about half a body taller than the height of an average Haldman, but there are some here and there who are almost double Silas's height. Their skin does not have any trace of blue and instead is a deep tan with undertones of something almost mahogany. Silas feels a pang of regulated appraisal at the muscular builds of these beings. With natural, strapping muscles that bulge slightly under their flawless skin when they move, they look like they could be a wary opponent if they weren't raging pacifists. Angular bones give the Banarian face a handsomeness and regality. Their pronounced brows frame sunset-orange eyes that seem to charge with intensity whenever they meet another's gaze. Essentially, speaking to such a being as the Banarians can be intimidating, to say the least.

Silas exits the shuttle platform and enters the city of Bah'n, b-A's second-largest city on the main continent, and goes in search of a clinic. Treatment clinics line the walking streets surrounding the shuttle platform, advertising healing of various ailments based on condition type or body region. A clinic that deals specifically in the transfiguration-causing venoms of various poisonous creatures across the systems is right next to one that simply treats the teeth of bone-forming creatures.

Silas appraises the clinics and the sheer number of them warily. He feels a regulated pulse emanate from his head and nip away at a wave of frustration that had begun to rise. He straightens out and gets to searching.

After walking the streets for a few more blocks, Silas finds the biomechanical augmentation clinic. It is a large building, with several floors and a separate connected wing around the back. Judging from the various pictures lining the windows, it seems they do much more installation than removal. Pictures of devices, from atmospheric filter and converter implants to animatronic prosthetics and extensions, line the windows, beckoning the patrons in.

Silas robotically enters the building and checks in with the Banarian at the front desk. Since all Banarians are capable of performing practically any procedure, they don't ask Silas what procedure he would like at the front desk and merely put him in the waiting queue, graciously accepting his payment of the flat rate.

Silas stands apart from the other waiting patients like a statue in a busy square until his name is called. The Banarian that comes to get him is one of the taller specimens, likely almost double Silas's height. He's as muscled as his other countrymen and wears a sleek white jumpsuit that accentuates the ridges of his muscles. He introduces himself as Ralak and leads Silas down the hall with a warm smile.

Silas is ushered into a room with just two plush chairs--one small and one about double the size, directly across from the other. When he takes a seat in the small chair and Ralak in the other, the Banarian leans forward and asks, "So, Silas. What brings you into the clinic today?"

His tone is warm and does something to ease the tension building in Silas at being so close to such a large being under a molten orange stare.

"I'm looking to get an implant removed."

"Okay, sounds good. What type of implant is it?"

"It's a Regulator." Silas answers. "I'm from Halodin, and they put them in us who are to serve in a multidisciplinary political and protective capacity." Silas reaches up and points to the base of his skull. "I'm not sure exactly where, but it's around he--"

Ralak interrupts him. "I'm familiar with the implant." He lifts an eyebrow. "Though I can't say I've ever removed one. Or even heard of one wanting to be removed."

Silas feels a growing fear get regulated away, and he sits up taller. "Ahh, yes. Well. I don't suppose many people do get them removed." He stammers before straightening up again. "The soldiers all know what they signed up for, after all. I just... I don't see myself following that path anymore." True enough. Silas knows that if he lied about device problems, the Banarian need only touch him and scan his body and the device to discern the lie. Luckily, he doesn't have to.

Ralak: "No explanation needed. Just curious."

Thank goodness, Silas thinks.

"So, let's take a scan." They both stand. Next to Ralak standing, Silas has only a view of the Banarian's thighs and the rest of the Banarian is visible only with a craned neck. Ralak then squats down to eye level and gestures for Silas to remove the top half of his flight suit. After exposing his chest, Silas feels a massive, heated hand come to rest on his chest. Ralak's eyes close on contact, and he hums to himself as he takes a scan.

"Okay. I found it." Ralak announces after a moment. "Shouldn't be hard to remove, but if I'm correct, the act of removing the implant might spark some overactivity from the device. It might sense that your body is under distress and try to get a rise out of you to fight that. So, I will have to restrain you."

Silas's heart finally deviates from its slow thrum at the sound of those words and starts to pick up at the potential for an impending battle. Ralak nods his head, likely sensing the change in his heart rate and hormone levels.

"Ahh, it looks like I am right." Ralak declares. "Do I have your permission to restrain you?"

Silas feels the start of panic rise in him. "I want the implant removed," Silas replies. "Though as I try to say the words, I'm not sure my body is going to let me." Damn. Silas thinks. As calculating as he has been in this endeavor, he never expected a time when an uncontrollable part of him might try to take over.

Silas's heart is beating faster now, and he is starting to jitter with adrenaline. "Is that enough?" Silas asks.

Ralak looks contemplative for a second, staring hotter into Silas's face. Without a nod or a deviation from his cool look, he mutters quietly, "It will have to be enough."

In the same instant, Ralak springs forward and envelops Silas's torso in a crushing hold. His right hand, which had been planted on Silas's chest, moves to the base of his skull. He simultaneously snakes his left arm around Silas's torso, holding him tightly against his front. Before anything can register in Silas's mind, Ralak is sitting back in the chair with impossible speed, wrapping his massive legs around Silas's, holding the Haldman in a punishing grip.

Silas finally registers what happens the moment that Ralak begins to tear and re-heal the tissue surrounding his implant. With a sickening wave of chemicals, hormones, and electrical impulses, Silas's body erupts in fury. Silas roars and thrashes violently in Ralak's arms and feels the Banarian crush him tighter in his grip. A grip so tight it is surely impossible for him to get free. Silas is fighting so vehemently he screams as he hears his arm break against the hold. Ralak must be numbing all pain for the implant work because Silas doesn't feel a thing except powerful rage driving him to struggle harder.

They struggle together for a few more moments while Ralak works until Silas's grunting and huffing are broken by a gasp, and the sound of ripping flesh rings out into the air. Silas abruptly relaxes against the Banarian, and a moment later, he hears a clank on the tiled procedure room floor: his implant being expelled from his head. The tissue reforms, and a moment later, Silas feels his arm snap back into place, gasping at the painless sound.

Ralak loosens his grip, but Silas makes no sound or movement. Seeing that Silas can't be trusted to regain his feet, the Banarian shifts him so that he's lying on his lap and waits patiently for him to recover.

Cradled delicately in the giant's arms, Silas is overwhelmed beyond comprehension by the flood of experiences rushing back into his body. Where his skin had once been dulled by the inhibition of afferent signals, it is now rippling with sensation. His eyes sting and begin to water against the air that suddenly feels dry and much too cool on his bare chest, contrasted with the extreme warmth of the being below him. Emotion begins to rush back into him as well; a hollow feeling takes root in his chest, and he blanches at the inexplicable sense of loss. Not the loss of regulation, surely, but a loss much more profound: a mourning of the years spent aloof, part of a machine--training, studying, and serving without complaint or error.

With another wave of emotion, Silas is transported back to his childhood. While the memories weren't erased, neglect has left them fuzzy and fragmented. He sees some faces that aren't familiar to the past six years: a boy about his age, stunningly beautiful despite a jagged scar that snakes down his left cheek and brow. A woman too--she is a brunette like Silas, with a similar soft yet pronounced jaw.

Sorrowful emotions are soon eclipsed as another swell of feeling pulses through Silas. His muscles are tight from the struggle and his joints whine despite the low gravity. Even more powerful than the emotional turmoil is the aching that he has begun to feel elsewhere in his body. It is almost as if in the past six years he has completely forgotten about his needs or any desire for sexual release. Now the realization comes crashing back to him with a flare of sensitivity along his under-stimulated dick and an aching deep inside him.

"Ugh." Silas moans out in frustration. The first sound containing a modicum of emotion that has exited his lips in six years. "It hurts!"

"Yes I expected this." Ralak explains shifting Silas to a standing position in front of him. "The return of dampened emotion must be a powerful thing. I expect you are going to need to take some rest to adjust and reconcile the time you los--."

"No!" Silas exclaims. "It's not that. It's...Ugh." He moans again and flexes his pelvis away from the tight fit of his flight suit bottoms. Silas makes a frustrated gesture to his crotch and whimpers at the movement. "It's so sensitive. I don't remember this feeling and it hurts."

"Oh. I um--." Ralak looks at a loss for words. "I didn't expect that. But no worry I can take away some of the sensitivity or... Maybe redistribute some of the receptors so that you will have average sensitivity?"

Silas doesn't give him a chance to give more options. "Yes please, anything." He reaches forward and grabs the Banarian's hand, pressing it back to his chest. He signs in delicious relief as Ralak must be easing away his discomfort.

Ralak smiles softly as he relieves Silas' pain but motions to the Haldman's pants. "You need to remove those for me to work. I need to touch the area to perform the procedure and the suit might be a tight fit while you are getting used to the new sensation."

Silas does what the Banarian orders without protest, unzipping his suit the rest of the way and shucking it to the floor in haste. Ralak looks down to where Silas' dick has become ragingly hard, making up for six years of absent erections, and places a large hand over the organ, enveloping both Silas' dick and balls. Silas swallows against the dull feeling that makes it through Ralak's numbing and the rush of new embarrassment that rears its head at seeing how little his penis looks in the Banarian's gigantic hand.

"You should look away while I work." Ralak advises. "I won't do anything I can't reverse later but I want to avoid you seeing anything that might distress you."

Silas acquiesces and tilts his head up to the tall ceilings as a tingling and numbing sensation spreads through his entire crotch. The sensation lasts as long as Ralak works and then is replaced by a wave of pleasure so strong it hits Silas like a speeding Starsail.

"Ugh my--." Is all that Silas can verbalize as he registers the wonderful feeling of the Banarian's hand wrapped around his dick, large and heated.

Silas looks down with a shock and sees that his penis is no longer the quite organ that was attached to his body a moment before. Where his respectable dick was has now been engorged to a cock at least twice as big in girth and length. Peeking out from under the newly enlarged penis are his balls but seem to have grown proportionally. Recognition dawns on him that when Ralak offered to redistribute the receptors he must have meant that he would have to create new mass to ensure the same receptor density as normal genitalia.

He doesn't have time to ponder his predicament as his body bucks forward into Ralak's hand of its own accord. With his thrust he powerfully clenches his new cock and it erupts with a spurt of glistening precum.

"F-fuck." Silas grounds out, blinking in appreciation as the Banarian removes his hand, now wet with precum, and places it in his lap.

"Is that better, Silas?" Ralak asks, a slight amused hint of taunting in his tone.

"Oh fuck... Yes! Thank you so much it feels so much better."

"My pleasure." Ralak responds. "It's not every day I get to treat a new interesting case such as yours. I like a challenge."

Silas doesn't quite register his words because he is completely absorbed with the sight and sensation of his new cock. Rock hard and jutting away from his body leaving barely any space between him and Ralak's strong form. He zones further out, noticing for the first time that Ralak is one of the most stunning and ridiculously hot beings he has ever encountered. The Banarian is massive, muscled beyond all rationality and has the most perfect dark complexion set atop a bone structure that would make practically anyone, male or female, swoon. His body's curves stretch against the fabric of his white jumpsuit at the same time leaving little and too much to the imagination. Silas can remember the feeling of those colossal hands touching his penis and suddenly develops a pang of need inside him to feel those fingers elsewhere.

He doesn't know what comes over him but all he knows is that he has had a six year dry spell and now more than ever needs to find release. In front of the Banarian Silas grips his dick and starts to obviously jerk himself off while staring directly into the heated gaze of Ralak.

"I'm sorry." Silas tries to explain. "I just need to. I--fuck. I'm sorry but can you give me a moment to finish?"

Ralak's face darkens and switches between looking at Silas in the eyes and at his now dripping cock being frantically worked over. Silas swears when the Banarian's orange gaze finds his cock he feels the skin heat and a new wave of pleasure snakes its way through his body. "Of course Silas. Take the time you need." Ralak stands up in front of Silas towering over the masterbating male.

Silas doesn't seem to know the size of his newly elongated cock and does not step away to give Ralak room to stand, inadvertently dragging the head of his dick along Ralak's jumpsuit, leaving an ostentatious smear of precum in its wake.

"S-sorry, Ralak. Oh fuck that felt good." Silas moans out, stepping back to his own chair. Still pumping away at his cock.

"No worries." Ralak takes a long stride towards the door then pauses and seems to contemplate something for a moment. He turns back and meets Sila's eyes again. "Although, I can hardly go walking about the clinic like this." He says, gesturing to the precum staining his jumpsuit. "And I suppose you might need a hand finishing up here, right?"

"Oh my, fuck. Yes please!" Silas practically shouts. He removes his hand from his dick when the Banarian turns to face him again and finds his knees becoming wobbly as the Ralak unbuttons his suit and begins to slowly lower the zipper.

Silas' gaze snakes over the adonis that is revealed after Ralak removes his suit from his legs and stands before him stark naked. It is all he can do not to drop his jaw in awe at the massive cock that jets out from Ralak's crotch. It must be as big and long as Silas' arm and bounces up and down when Ralak steps towards him.

"O-oh my--." Silas whispers before he is interrupted.

Ralak is now taunting him in tone and body as he circles the Haldman and looks down at him appraisingly. "Do you know why Haldman's don't seek the company of the female visitors to our system, Silas?"

Silas can't take his eyes off of the incredible dick that sticks out at about his eye level as he absent mindedly hums a reply. "N-no." This history of Nara-b does not matter right now to Silas. Hell, talking really doesn't matter because all he can think about is what that cock might feel like filling his ass. He needs it and he needs it now.

"Well." Ralak responds. "That is because we don't mate with females. We don't actually mate at all. Our anatomy is for a more...singular use." Ralak stops circling in front of Silas and leans down to his face. " Plus, our tastes have always lied with the male form."

With these words Ralak reaches down to Silas' enraged cock and wraps his fingers around the harness with a heated and pleasureful grasp. Silas groans at the sheer surface area of the Banarian's hand compared with his own as Ralak begins to jerk.

Silas is soon reaching out to touch Ralak's own stiff cock and moans as he comes in contact with the smoldering skin, smoothly stretched tight around the biggest cock he has ever seen. Silas moans more as a massive drop of precum drips from the tip of the cock and he catches it with an audible plop. He brings the coated hand to his mouth and laps at the slick fluid with pleasure.

"I need--" Silas starts.

Ralak interrupts loudly and mockingly. "Yeah? What do you need?"

Silas grips Ralak's cock with one hand, unable to work his fingers around the girth and gives it a squeeze. "I need this. Now. Inside of me." Ralak smiles wickedly at the words. "I-I don't know how it's going to fit but all I know is I need it."

"Oh we're going to make it fit, don't worry." Ralak responds, removing his hand from Silas' cock and bringing them under his arms to lift him up.

With incredibly deftness and speed Silas is lifted like he weighs nothing and carried to the large chair where he is stood up by Ralak, his feet balancing on the tops of two massively muscular thighs. The large Banarian lies back in the chair and steadies Silas with two large hands that almost entirely envelop Silas' waist. Silas looks down at the massive tool that now stands completely upright in front of him and blanches at the challenge it will be.

Ralak notices and is quick to reassure Silas. "Don't worry about the size. I'll take care of that." He gives Silas a reassuring squeeze at the hips.

Shit. Silas thinks. He's not exactly sure how the Banarian's powers work but he's pretty sure that Ralak intends to stretch him out one way or another and change his body so that he can take a cock this size. "Shit." Silas repeats again, this time out loud.

Ralak takes that as an invitation and removes one of his hands to grip his insane cock. As if commanded, the moment the Ralak touches his cock, a steady flow of precum begins to flow out of the head and down the side. Before long, Ralak's dick is completely coated and his lap is similarly dripping, streams of precum leaking steadily and pooling on the floor. Ralak removes his hand and brings it back to Silas's waist. Ralak's massive cock does not so much as waver or droop at the lost support and simply stands straight up, like it would need a bulldozer to ever get it down again. Ralak then lifts Silas again and hovers him over his cock, soaked and glistening with precum.

"Wait!" Silas calls out, panicked at the prospect of being shoved down on something that would surely ruin his insides. "I--." Silas' words are morphed into a moan as Ralak's cockhead comes in contact with his puckered hole. The moment their bodies meet, all skin that comes in contact with Ralak's cock is set aflame with pleasure. Ralak's dick transforms the parts of Silas' body that it touches, stretching the skin of his hole around his length as he presses Silas further down onto his cock. Silas' insides are roiling, racked with waves of pleasure at feeling the punishing stretch of something so big inside of him. Ralak smiles at his blissed expression and just keeps pushing Silas down, barely making a dent in the full length of his cock.

When Silas thinks Ralak is about to bottom out in his ass he feels an expansion deep within him and a rearrangement of his anatomy. Ralak continues to push and mold Silas' body to his cock's shape until Silas is sitting down in the Banarian's lab, feeling the otherworldly pleasure of the Banarian's heated cock filling him completely.

Silas looks down and can see the ridge inside of him of Ralak's meat pressing against his stomach. He groans and gasps as Ralak flexes his cock and it bulges out of stomach. Still unmoving, rested to the hilt on Ralak's monster of a cock, Silas looks into the Banarian's eyes, lustful and appreciative.

"M-my--fuck. Ralak, it's so big. You feel. I can't even describe. It feels so good."

Ralak laughs at the Haldman's praise. "Thank you Silas but I'm a fairly average member of my species. I'm glad you are enjoying your new cock-taking abilities though." Ralak gives a wink and then squeezes Silas' hips once more. "I've changed you specially for my dick. Now get to work. I still have a job to do and not much time."

Silas doesn't need any more encouragement than that. Moaning at the sensual pressure and friction he feels on his prostate and every other inch of his insides he stands up on the cock, pulling it halfway out before sitting back down and burying it completely.

Ralak moans in unison with Silas' grinding on his cock and smiles at the sound of Silas' dick slapping against his stomach when the Haldman bears down onto his meat. Precum is everywhere, slapping and squishing between Silas' ass and Ralak's hips, dripping from Silas' perpetually leaking new cock, and collecting on the floor, adding to the ever-growing puddle.

Both beings are in absolute bliss. Ralak is almost screaming each time his cock is buried deep in the Haldman and Silas is panting and whimpering at the feelings his new hole and cock are affording him. There is so much surface area to both his asshole, his cock, and Ralak's cock that he can't even discern one pleasurable feeling from the other, they all just heat within him, practically making his body float.

Ralak abruptly stops Silas' movements and grabs him under the arms. "I'm going to breed you soon. I'm going to hold you and put my kids in that hole." Without waiting for a response, Ralak stands up with Silas in his hands and begins lifting him up and down along his long cock.

Silas is being fucked mindless now as Ralak picks up speed. His dick sandwiched between their bodies, sliding over the Banarian's tan skin with each thrust. The burning hot dick inside him slowly taking over his mind. Silas begins to feel his orgasm mounting as the Banarian speeds up his pace, pounding furiously into his asshole which stretches and returns to size to accommodate the large girth.

Ralak pumps ardently for a while more before screaming loudly and burying his cock in Silas' hole completely, pushing down hard so that it is deeper than it has ever been. With quick pulses, Ralak's dick hardens and expands slightly as it pumps molten hot cum deep within Silas' expanded ass.

Ralak's shots are so forceful that Silas can feel them hit his walls and push the limits of his insides as they expand, filling with seed. Each pulse sends a new wave of pleasure through his body and before long Silas is clamping down on Ralak's cock, shooting ribbon after ribbon of cum onto the Banarian's chest, painting it a milky white. Before long Silas is feeling swollen as Ralak's cock shows no sign of slowing down. Gradually he feels his asshole and insides loosen around the cock as Ralak must be expanding his hole further. As his hole expands the hot cum starts to pour from his ass and drip down the Banarian's legs to the floor, adding to the wet mess they've made of the room.

Finally Ralak stops seeding Silas and sits back down in the chair. Bringing a fucked out Silas along with him. Hard cock still filling the Haldman's stretched hole. "Fuck Silas. That was awesome. How long are you going to be on b-A?"

"Umm." Silas studders, struggling to get back on the planet from his ascended orgasmic state. He has some difficulty while his oversensitive insides are still being rubbed by Ralak's punishing cock.

When he does regain his mental faculties he remembers why he is even on b-A in the first place. "Oh." Silas recovers a calm tone. "I'm not sure. Not more than a few days. I have to think through some things."

Ralak smiles down at Silas and nods curtly. "Very well. If you are staying in Bah'n I would be interested to hang out again. I'm a regular at a club down here that is always happy to have eager off-worlders like you." Ralak winks at this last part.

"That would be cool. Thanks, Ralak." And with that the Banarian gently lifts Silas off of his still hard and impossibly large penis with a cartoonishly wet plop. When Silas is set back on his feet in the puddle of still warm cum he feels the excess continue to slide out of his hole and down his legs. "Umm." Silas starts. "Is my hole--?"

"Right!" Ralak exclaims, seeming to have forgotten the way he made Silas' body into this tailor made fucktoy only moments ago. "I'll put it back."

Ralak reaches behind Silas and swiftly buries a long finger deep inside. Silas gasps and groans at the contact into Ralak's smirking face and continues to moan as he feels his hole close up to its normal size, now clamped tight around Ralak's finger. Ralak pulls out and sucks the residual cum off of his finger, humming at the taste.

"I didn't change you completely back." Ralak explains, starting to clean himself and put on his jumpsuit that was conveniently tucked away and protected from the cum that is now everywhere, Silas' flight suit was not so lucky. Ralak continues, devilishly handsome face now in an evil smirk. "Your hole will always be tight but you might find that you can now easily take some of the more... well endowed folks across the systems. I think you'll like it."

Ralak picks up Silas' cum coated flight suit and manhandles Silas into the sticky mess. "No cleaning up. I want other Banarian's to see what we did." He winks again and gives Silas's ass an appreciative squeeze. He opens the door and points down the hall. "Just to the right and all the way down the hall. I hope to see you soon Silas, the club is downtown in the Mason's district by the tea shop. You'll know the one. Just wear some of these clothes that have my cum on them and you'll be taken care of." Ralak's face is growing dark and devilish with these last words before he abruptly leaves the room.

Silas leaves the building shocked that there was no follow up to be done on the implant removal or any advice. He knows Banarian's are skilled but they must be a truly incredible species to know with that much confidence that there won't be any problems. Banarians are some species, Silas thinks. In more ways than one.

Exiting into the streets of Bah'n Silas needs to find someplace to lay low for a moment and regroup, now that he can think freely without being regulated he is shocked at how wandering his thoughts are. He needs to do some serious practice at regulating his impulses and controlling his thinking.

As Silas walks down he can't help but break a sweat, it seems every Banarian he passes looks his way at some point or another and their collective heated gazes are making Silas overheat. He looks down again at his cum-stained flight suit, dismayed at how the fabric looks so obviously soaked in the daylight. He glances back and sees that many Banarian's that walk the street are also looking at him from this way too. Like Ralak said, it's like all the Banarians know exactly what he was just doing. The thought makes him chub up a little, his newly large cock pressing uncomfortably against his flight suit.

Silas continues to stroll down the street by the dying light of Anuba, drawing the eyes of practically everyone he passes. Some whistle out to him and some lick their lips sensually. This is going to be interesting.

TBC

Thanks for reading! -Abe