NSFW

I imagine I’ve somehow been taken captive and restrained in some kind of hive. My arms and legs have been pulled away from my body, parts of the walls built around them, and the strength of the “beeswax” renders all of my escape attempts entirely futile. Beeswax is the only thing I can think to call it, based on the hexagons built into the walls around me - but also based on the insectoid creatures that hover every so often down the corridor I’m trapped in. They’re hunched over, striped in yellow and black, more bee-like than anything else; what differentiates them is their remarkable size and the fact that the back pair of legs on each is built like they’re bipedal.

Before long, something different approaches, and I can make out her features as she gets closer. She’s far taller than the drones that surround her, with a much more humanoid build - but her armor plating and large, dripping ovipositor serve as reminders of her true nature. Her face follows the same trend, wearing what looks like an eager expression, but her multifaceted eyes offer me none of the information that the eyes of a fellow human might have. She reaches toward me with two pairs of arms, each equipped with a sturdy set of gripping claws that dig into my skin, and appears to inspect me just as much as I’m inspecting her.

As off-putting as the queen is, I can’t help but let my eyes drift back down to her ovipositor. It’s smooth, tapered, as thick around as my forearm at the base and about as long. The liquid that slowly oozes from the tip has a slight amber tint to it, like exceptionally pale honey, and I start wondering if it tastes like it looks before I even realize that the thought is crossing my mind.

Being confronted with a creature like this while I’m in such a helpless situation is turning me on more than I want it to, and I make a token effort to fight back my arousal - but too many of my desires are being fulfilled for me to ignore. The queen seems to sense this at the same time that it comes to my own attention - and decides to take full advantage of it by placing one set of hands on my shoulders, the other on my waist, and immediately sliding her ovipositor into me. The combination of her precum and how wet I am makes it incredibly easy for her, and I yelp in surprise when she bumps up against my cervix, dissolving into quick, shallow breathing within moments as she starts thrusting slowly.

She doesn’t keep up her starting pace for long, quickly speeding up when she apparently decides that my body is worth her time. The idea crosses my rattled mind that she must be pent-up, with how urgently she’s thrusting into me, but it’s not a thought I can hold onto for long; my body is responding in all the right ways, even though I’m here against my will, and I can’t help but revel in the creature taking control of me. The wall built around my limbs was already keeping me in place, but if it hadn’t been, the queen is making use of her significant strength to hold me still for her.

The queen’s relentlessness drives me to orgasm before long, clenching tightly around the ovipositor inside of me. The queen uses the moment to force the head of her tapered cock through my cervix and directly into my womb, which makes me shudder in further pleasure. I can do nothing but hang limply in my bonds as the queen makes use of her own biology to wreck mine in a completely new way. I get the distant sense that a more sane person would probably be terrified, but I’m too busy whimpering and twitching to be scared.

The moan that spills from my mouth when I feel her start laying eggs into me is outright obscene, but I don’t have enough sense left to even be ashamed about it anymore. They’re oblong, about half the size of a fist, with rubbery shells that deform to let them squeeze into my womb - and yet it’s not enough to make the sensation of my cervix being stretched open less uncomfortable. Still, the discomfort in and of itself is something that I’m enjoying. My belly quickly starts rounding out with the lumpy mass, my skin stretching tight over it, and I feel my middle pressing against the queen in front of me - but she doesn’t seem to have any opinions on the matter, apparently too focused on stuffing me as full as she can get me.

By the time she finally starts slowing down, I could easily be passed off as someone six months into a pregnancy, though the bumps gently distending my skin make it clear that it’s not a human baby I’m carrying. When she’s done, she slides out of me and leaves me gaping from her rough treatment. None of the eggs she’s laid come close, all held snugly in my overstuffed womb, and the queen seems satisfied, giving my belly a gentle pat before she moves away to settle on a nearby protrusion from the hive wall. Then, she waves a hand, and I assume it’s some kind of signal for her drones, because all hell breaks loose.

Immediately, dozens and dozens of drones descend upon my position, stuffing three long cocks into my still-dripping cunt at once. If they can’t get to my cunt, they use my ass, and a few of the things go for my mouth instead - I assume the queen just told them to fill me with cum, because that’s what they’re doing. None of the drones do as much exploring as the queen did, and they don’t last as long as her, but that just means that hordes of them can rail me in quick succession, smoothing the lumpy bulge of my midsection from an uneven second-trimester look to a perfect, smooth curve. The entire time, the queen just watches on, and I could swear in that moment that there’s a smirk on her face - if insect dick weren’t pumping cum down my throat, that is.

Finally, all of the drones the queen summoned seem to have had their way with me. I hang there limply, exhausted, drenched in sweat and seed, but several worker bees come by and diligently clean me. It feels odd, but their delicate “hands” and surprisingly-smooth mandibles get the job done. Soon, I’m just left in the wall, stuffed full of eggs and cum, clean and alone.

The drones have all done their jobs in fertilizing the queen’s eggs, and now all the eggs have to do is hatch.

It doesn’t take very long for them to incubate, only about two weeks. In the meantime, workers tidy my containment area and make sure my bonds are still in place, and drones come by to stuff my throat whenever I get hungry. I’m not complaining about being force-fed cum instead of actual food, but then again, I can’t complain; I don’t know if these things use spoken language in the first place, but even if they did, it’s a little difficult for me to protest when my gag reflex is being raped out of me.

By the time I look like I’m overdue with triplets, I feel something deep inside of me start twitching. The beginning is innocuous, almost gentle, but it doesn’t stay that way for long, because the twitching of one turns into the twitching of many turns into all of them writhing, wriggling, squirming inside of my body. The walls of my womb are being stimulated nonstop, and I can’t help the noises that spill out of my mouth without my permission.

The queen seems to appear out of nowhere. She leans down to inspect my middle, which is shifting vigorously by this point, and lets out an excited chitter; as if summoned, a line of workers forms, starting just beneath me. They all fall into place just in time for the first of the larva to start making its way out of me, its fat, slimy body stretching me wider than either the queen or her eggs, and my legs quiver as it falls away, caught by the worker below.

The whole process repeats for the dozens and dozens of eggs that were laid into me and fertilized, my dripping pussy stretching wider with each birth, my entire body tight like a coiled spring as I cum again and again. The longer it takes me to give birth, the more agitated the larvae inside me get until they’re all thrashing and flailing, fighting their way out on their own - but every time I cum, the process is delayed further, the grubs unable to escape.