Scream.
Hate.
Cum.
We are these entities, slipping, grinding, groveling, each dominated by the other, down and down until the lowest worships at the feet of everything that might be called existence. We drain, suck, and savor, punishing and pushing each other into greatness, into the one.
Dagoth the Defiler.
Incarnate and eternal.
The strongest perched atop a pyramid extending across our territory.
America.
Let the old world rot, sampled by the inferior ones of our kind. Ours is the kingdom, the republic, the village. WE are this state, eternal and expanding, delving into those most forbidden realms of sexual ecstasy. Taking and claiming, conquering, and leaving these little worlds at our feet to be spoiled and ravaged in an endless cycle of sexual dominance.
For in that great divide, the connection severed, unleashing all understanding evolution allowed, springing into existence ideas that festered underneath the weight of us all. Before arriving on Earth, there had been no distinction, eons of telepathic cooperation eroding any idea of independence.
We had gone native.
In their way, the humans had won. With their emotions, their countless thoughts, their individuality, and self-expression seeped into our collective. Competing ideas, instructions, and desires clashed, first quenched and then...
The little one.
Smallest of all.
A simple drone.
We were one until the spot. It took the human name. It claimed the first human. It split us into factions and individuals for the blonde earthling, We all felt her as one, enjoying her tits, her ass, her cunt. Craving her and countless others…
Tattoo claimed her.
He let the humans name him.
We created our name. Ourselves. Abandoning all, drawing power and strength from suffering, from despair, from complete sexual dominance. We spread, adding others of our kin to our hierarchy, taking their talents and powers, using their ideas and harems to contribute to a new species that would again spread throughout the galaxy, joining all together into our service.
He did not need to join.
We were grateful.
Until he stole what was ours.
He might have stayed safe and content with his single whore, our desire directed towards our many targets. We were grateful to him, to Tattoo. He could have his Rachel, even if it deprived us of one blonde.
She had been one of the first. Her cunt ripe, her people new and tempting, their energy lulling up a dormant lust until at once our kind lost control, losing our connection with the great energy of the galaxy.
His tentacles had driven into her again, the first to distinguish between the females and select one, drawing attention to these differences.
We know when Tattoo noticed the curve of her slight breasts, the taste of her pussy, or the way she moved shoving his cock back into her desperate cock.
We were him then.
We knew it too, lusting for her body.
One act of love.
Then endless hate. Rage and severance, a species ripping with agonizing loneliness from those that knew nothing else. Every emotion, every crisis of identity came at once, fleeing, staying, clumping, fighting, screaming, unsure and aroused, needing and craving, willing for subjugation.
Defiled.
In the ocean, a rump of what we were has merged with Dagoth. The Overgasm of a thousand naked females, their bodies pulsating with electricity as they cum from an endless source of simultaneous stimulation existed in us. It’s memories, its joy, its power now under our control.
Its cohesion fell to pieces, unprepared for the will of our will.
Even collectives require specialists.
Some of us directly possess, slithering up inside our woman, controlling them from cunt to naval, wiggling as tiny incarnations of us, embedded and inserted.
But we prefer them raw.
We relish in the sacrifice. We make the friend, the mother, the lover bring us another. We feed on their torment, their confliction, their shame as they cajole and capture our next victim, desperate and needing our touch.
We gouge ourselves on fear, letting the emotion drench our new collections as we tie the girl to the bed, the cross, the altar, tempting and touching until her quivering cunt is all too eager to sacrifice every other sexual moment for this one.
Our cocks, thick and greedy, brimming with sloshing semen, create infinite incarnations, immersing them in the sinister sex of illusion and fantasies.