PFC Stewart Peter Bate had a friend back home who had a spitting fetish. He was otherwise normal in all other regards—a perfectly upstanding fine citizen... that happened to get off by watching videos of sexy women spitting into men's faces.
Everyone has their own hidden kinks.
Bate watched the hindig's frilled throat puff up, her head coil back and then whip forward as she launched a greenish-white glob into the air. As time slowed down and he watched the sticky glob arc through the air and splatter against PFC Andy Doyle's face like a custard pie, he wondered what his friend would make of all this. Would it be a massive turn-on?
The hindigs were sexy, in a weird alien way. They reminded Bate of science fiction TV shows where they'd take an attractive actress and add prosthetics and makeup to make her look like an alien. She might have pointed ears, blue or green skin, scales and weird bony ridges, but you always knew that underneath the prosthetics and makeup was a sexy actress.
That was what these hindigs were like. You knew they were alien, but they also reminded you of those sci-fi TV shows. So much so it was easy to question what you were seeing was real and not just a pretty starlet in prosthetics and makeup.
The spit was real enough. The hindig had picked out Doyle with uncanny accuracy and the young soldier went down with his face covered in sticky goop.
Bate's thoughts continued to bubble along in a random, unfocused rush. Was the spit acidic... or poisonous? Was it even now melting through the young soldier's eyeballs and eating into his brains?
Fuck. Don't think about it.
Bate pulled the trigger on his gun. Nothing happened. Nothing had been happening since the start of the engagement, which felt like it had begun several lifetimes ago even though it was likely less than a minute. His M16 wasn't firing. It could be a jam, but Bate knew it wasn't. No one else's gun was firing either and it was way beyond the realms of probability that every firearm in the squad had jammed at precisely the same moment.
Dimly he remembered being told that the laws of physics were a little sketchy out here in H-space. None of their complex electronics worked and even relatively simple machinery fouled up far more frequently than normal. Sometimes guns didn't fire and grenades didn't explode. Having that happen right now, right after they'd blundered into a hindig nest was the worst fucking timing. Sure, knives and other blades still worked fine, but Bate had already seen what had happened to the Sarge after he'd switched to using his combat knife.
Bate was glad of all the extra adrenaline sloshing through his system. Without it he wouldn't have had the reflexes to whip his head out of the way of another accurately spat missile. The glob splattered stickily over the rocks behind him.
Bate turned tail and ran. It felt horrible to run out on his buddies, but there was literally nothing he could do for them. They'd been ambushed and their weapons rendered about as useful as scrap metal clubs. They could all go down together or some of them could try to get away and come back with greater force to avenge the fallen. Bate would have expected any of his squad buddies to come to the same conclusion.
Not that it made much difference. He only made it as far as around the big boulder when a hindig jumped out onto the path in front of him.
Close up there was even more of that weird dissonance between the alien and sexy. Even after seeing what they could do he was a having a hard time believing she was real and not just an actress in prosthetics and makeup. A sexy actress as well. She had nice long legs, a taut midriff and a pair of firm round tits as good as any he'd jerked off to.
She also had scales and weird spiny frills running along her shoulders, neck and the back of her arms. Her high, exotic cheekbones were emphasized by bony ridges poking out through her skin like miniature mountain ranges. She also had flaps of skin that extended from behind her ears to the base of her neck and resembled the hood of a cobra. Topping off her lizard-like appearance was the presence of a short stubby tail.
The hindig's yellow eyes were fixed on Bate as she bobbed and weaved with sinuous, serpentine flexibility.
Bate shot her. Or rather, he pressed the trigger on his gun and cursed when nothing happened.
He watched her warily. The frill on their necks expanded and their throats puffed up when they were about to spit. He could watch for that, dodge it, and then charge her before she had a chance to hawk up another toxic loogie. With any luck he would barrel straight through her and be on his way to safety.
Bate's attention was on the wrong orifice. They didn't just spit from their mouths.
Her legs were already braced apart. Her stubby tail swelled, then—in one smooth motion—her hips swung forward, the tail contracted and her vagina gaped wide as it spat a big white mass at Bate.
There was no dodging this. The glob was already expanding out like a net as it raced to Bate. It hit him full on the chest and knocked him off his feet. He fell on his back with a puddle of white gunk covering his chest and midsection. It wasn't acidic, thankfully, but it was extremely sticky. He tried to stand back up and found he couldn't. The gunk had set and he was stuck to the floor by gummy ropes.
Bate thrashed and struggled. The gunk stretched, but not enough for him to pull free.
He was stuck. Stuck and helpless.
The hindig watched his fruitless struggles with bright yellow eyes. Not only was her appearance alien, her movements were as well—quick, birdlike.
The noise of battle, not that there'd been much to start with given how outclassed they were and with none of their weapons working, had died away. That was it. They were all dead, or incapacitated.
...by lizard girls with tits.
Bate kept pulling at the gluey strands holding him to the floor. Some were beginning to peel away from the rock underneath him. A few more minutes of uninterrupted effort and he reckoned he might be able to pull free.
Not that they were likely to give him a few minutes of uninterrupted effort.
More of the spitzards had appeared. They stood around him in a semicircle and watched. That's all they did—watch... watch and whisper to each other as Bate slowly—painfully slowly—tried to extricate himself from the sticky, solidified mucus.
Finally Bate's frustration boiled over and he ranted at them. "What do you want with me?"
"We are determining which of us will make you her mate." He was surprised to hear one of the lizard girls speaking back to him in English.
A lizard girl, slightly smaller than the others, stepped forwards. She took up a strange stance with her legs far apart. Staring at Bate, she placed a hand between her legs and rubbed it against her sex.
The fuck? Was she masturbating in front of him?
It seemed that way. She rubbed and rubbed and grew more and more aroused until finally she climaxed. Her tail throbbed, her hips jerked forwards and her vagina deposited a big white liquid blob all over him.
All Bate's work in trying to pull free was undone as the lizard girl buried him beneath another pile of gloop. This goop was different. The substance didn't feel as sticky, instead feeling creamier and warmer.
Bate watched his uniform fall away in rotting strands and, with gritted teeth, waited for his skin and flesh to do the same. It didn't happen. Instead he felt a warm, tingly feeling all over that was surprisingly pleasant.
The lizard girl seemed both disappointed and unsurprised at her disappointment. She returned to the line and her place was taken by another spitzard.
The new lizard girl did exactly the same as the first—she got herself off and her pussy spat a big glob of white slime over Bate. He was surprised to find he relished the sensation of the gloop against his skin. There was something about it that got his blood up and started an itch in his balls. Some of the goop slid down between his legs and his pubic hair stiffened and crackled as if sparks were running through it.
A third lizard girl stepped up and spat on him. A fourth.
At this point Bate was finding himself to be weirdly aroused in a way that made no sense at all. When he looked at the women, the scales, spines and bony ridges that spoke of reptilian ancestry faded from his perception. All he saw were their human features—their lean, lithe bodies; their perky, gravity-defying breasts. It was like being surrounded by a harem of naked swimwear models.
As the sixth stepped forward to take her turn, Bate found his own penis rising to attention as she started to get herself off. Bate had stopped struggling a while ago. Each glob of goop spat on him felt like the fresh hit of some kind of drug. The sixth girl was the same one that had prevented his escape, Bate noted as she reached climax and spat a thick white glob on his prone body. This one landed right on his erection and enfolded it as the warm goop slid down his shaft.
Bate was already aroused. The sensation of the creamy mass smothering his erection and sliding down it was enough to tip him over the brink. His cock throbbed as he erupted in unexpected orgasm and added his own cream to the sticky layer on top of him.
This was a signal to the lizard girls. If this was a contest then the sixth spitzard was deemed to be the winner. Yellow eyes shiny bright, she approached Bate until she was standing astride him.
"You're mine," she proclaimed.
Her sex gaped open at the apex of her legs. Her hand went back to it and she sighed and hissed in passion. This was more frenzied—more painful, even—than before. The spitzard's fingers terminated in claws, yet she showed no hesitation in inserting a finger and moving it around. It looked as though she was tearing at the inner lining of her sex with her claw. Creamy white fluids dripped from her pussy lips. Drips became a trickle, then a stream, then a flood. She took away her finger and pinkish-white paste poured out of her pussy. More and more poured out until Bate was buried beneath a quivering pile.
Bate's nerves crackled like crazy. He felt aroused. Super aroused. Beyond aroused. He climaxed again and again and again... He felt the muscles clenching around his seminal tubes, clenching so hard they started to twinge. His cock jerked spasmodically as he sprayed his semen into the goop surrounding him. As good as it felt there was a weird undercurrent to it. Bate felt more comfortably relaxed and pleasantly floppy than he'd ever felt in his life.
Aside from his cock. That was the only bit of hardness about him and the only thing it wanted more than what it had right now was to be inside the warm vagina gaping wide above him. A wish the lizard girl seemed willing to grant as she sat down in the pile of pinkish-white cream. Her sex found his and sucked it inside with lusty gulps. That triggered another jittery climax as he finally got to empty his balls inside her. She slurped it up and kept slurping. Her vagina slurped up his cock, his balls and then started on him.
The how of it didn't make sense to Bate. The fluids she'd covered him in had done something strange to his body. His bones, his muscles, his tissues—all had been rendered as soft as jelly. And now her vagina swelled and stretched as she gulped it all down.
The spitzard drew the whole of Bate's newly-pliable body inside her. He was folded up and neatly stored in a special chamber at the base of her tail. Bate was conscious throughout it all and didn't feel any pain. On the contrary, he liked it here. It was warm. It was pleasant. The cares and worries of the world couldn't touch him here. It was like being brought back into a comfortable womb. The spitzard moved on, her new 'mate' conscious and content inside her.