’First, I need to get a jar.’
Athiel turned away from the table, the sticky residue of Kree’s precum clinging to his fingers.
He walked briskly to a storage cabinet, his mind already cataloging the next steps.
’There we go.’
Athiel took it. A clean, sterile glass jar with a wide mouth. A label for docuntation.
He had them created for this very purpose.
Well, not to collect sperm, but any sample that monsters could give him.
Efficiency was key.
Athiel wiped the jar down with a cloth and placed it on a small stand near the bedside. The cool glass glead.
’I don’t look forward to this,’ he thought. ’Out of all the things I had to do to gather samples...this feels too much even for .’
But what was research?
Research ant gathering information.
And all the greatest researchers, even inventors, crossed a line to get to where they were.
’I don’t think they had to touch a monster’s penis, though.’ Athiel thought humourlessly as he returned to Kree, who lay panting, his horns now a pronounced, nacing curve above his brow.
The erection remained, a thick, dark pillar against his stomach, weeping steadily.
Athiel wiped his fingers on a clean cloth. He observed the achingly huge organ, noting the pulse of the glowing veins.
’I need to stimulate Kree until he ejaculates.’ He reached out, his touch soft but also impatient.
This was not for pleasure. This was for data.
Athiel wanted to finish this as soon as possible.
’I shouldn’t delay this any further.’
He began with the tip, using only his thumb. He circled the broad, slick head, applying firm, rhythmic pressure.
The contact was wet, hot. The slit yielded more fluid imdiately.
Kree’s reaction was instantaneous.
His entire body tensed, a sharp tremor running through his legs and tail.
A deep, ragged groan tore from his throat. "Master..." he gasped, his voice thick with strain.
"Aren’t you a little too horny for a monster?"
Athiel watched his face.
’n are all the sa, even if they are monsters.’ He thought, as if he, himself, wasn’t a man.
Kree’s red eyes were wide, unfocused, his lips parted. His chest heaved, the neon glow within flaring brighter with each stroke.
’He is sensitive,’ Athiel noted. ’It’s like he has been waiting for this mont his whole life.’
He continued, the motion thodical.
The horns grew.
Not dramatically, but increntally.
Another fraction of an inch, the tips sharpening further.
’Growth is consistent with stimulation.’ Athiel thought. ’But why? Is it just because he’s getting stimulated?’
Really, it didn’t make any sense whatsoever.
But Athiel went on still.
However... as he continued, it quickly beca clear that one hand was insufficient.
The sheer size required more coverage, more pressure.
Athiel wrapped his other hand around the base, his fingers barely spanning the massive girth. He had to use both palms, working in tandem.
One hand massaged the swollen tip, saring the copious precum as a lubricant. The other worked the shaft, a slow, upward pump from root to midpoint.
Kree’s sounds escalated. They were no longer single words, but a continuous, breathless stream of moans and fragnted pleas.
"Ah... A... Athiel... Master..." His back arched off the table, his hips twitching upward into the contact.
His tail thrashed violently, striking the tal bed with loud, jarring clangs.
’He’s much more vocal now. If I close my eyes, I feel like I would forget he’s a monster.’ Athiel thought. ’And that would make this very awkward–oh.’
The tentacles erged again.
’Fascinating.’
They didn’t grab or interfere, but Athiel was ready for the possibility, though.
They writhed around him, coiling over his shoulders, draping across his chest, as if sharing in the sensation.
They pulsed with the sa green light, a symphony of response.
Athiel’s arms began to ache.
The motion was strenuous. The heat radiating from Kree’s skin was intense, seeping into his own palms.
The musk in the air grew heavier, primal.
Athiel’s own breath ca quicker, not from arousal, but from exertion and focused concentration.
’He is close.’
Under his hands, the organ began to twitch erratically.
Powerful, involuntary spasms that jerked against his grip. The precum flow beca a steady trickle. Kree’s groans turned into sharp, choking cries.
His horns had reached their apparent maximum, a formidable crown of black curves, the glow within them now a steady, fierce light.
’The ejaculation point,’ Athiel realized.
He tightened his hold, speeding his strokes.
The dual-handed motion beca a relentless, milking rhythm. He focused on the tip, squeezing, rubbing, demanding release.
Kree’s body locked. His muscles went rigid.
A final, shattered cry—"Athiel!"—burst from him.
Athiel saw the telltale pulse at the base.
He released his grip on the shaft instantly, snatched the jar from the stand, and positioned it just below the tip with one swift motion.
The eruption was not a gentle stream.
It was a torrent. A thick, voluminous jet of pearlescent white sen shot out, splashing into the jar with a wet, heavy sound.
It continued, pulse after pulse, rapidly filling the container. The force was startling. The heat was palpable, even through the glass.
Athiel held it steady, his hand trembling slightly from the effort and the sheer, violent output.
It lasted for several seconds. When the flow finally subsided to a drip, the jar was nearly half-full.
Athiel carefully set it aside on the stand, sealing it with a lid. His hands were slick, coated.
The table, Kree’s stomach, was streaked with the excess.
He took a mont, catching his breath.
The lab was silent again, save for Kree’s panting. Athiel looked at the jar.
’Sample acquired.’
He looked at Kree’s horns.
’I know there’s correlation, but the purpose is still very...unclear.’ He looked at his own sticky, trembling hands.
"It’s disgusting, but anything in the na of research."
He turned to clean up.
But...
A tentacle wrapped around his wrist.
It was not aggressive, but firm.
It held him, preventing him from stepping away.
Athiel looked down at it, then up at Kree. "What?" He asked.
Kree was still lying on the table, but his eyes were locked on Athiel.
The red gaze was no longer clouded with pleasure. It was focused. Intent. His chest still glowed.
His erection... was still fully hard.
It hadn’t softened at all after the climax.
Another tentacle slid around Athiel’s forearm. Another curled near his hip.
Kree’s lips moved. "Athiel..." The word was a low, needy rumble.
"Oh, no, no." Athiel took a vial from his pocket and threw it at Kree.
And almost imdiately, Kree’s body began to tremble from being electrocuted.
Athiel turned around, expressionless. "Don’t even try."
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