Lophotroch Salvation

TW: Coercion, gore, bondage

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Greg. 4'8" / 142cm. Purple skin. Dons a red ribbon in their single strand of hair. Not snatched, but waist sinks in just enough to accentuate a round ass and sturdy thighs.

Greg is a startup founder. They started 81 startups in the past. The first one was "Mollusk Protection and Civility Inc." The goal of this corporation was to protect the dignity, quality of life, and physical well being of Mollusks in Grand Carlos. Greg left after one year due to a disagreement with their co founder, Adam.

The second was "Mollusk Protein Extraction LLC," founded in the city next door, Sand Mateo. As the name suggests, SM is both a desert and a food desert. The people needed better food. Greg, in part to help them, though in larger part to spite Adam, established a mollusk farming operation. It was bloody. It bloodied millions of mollusk homes and villages. Greg left this venture after the brutality became too much for them to bare.

Janet. 5'9" / 175cm. Caucasian complexion from the shoulders down. Dons a huge mollusk shell that obscures her neck and head. Round firm breasts that hang a little off her athletic body, with a stable core and strong legs.

Janet is a mollusk. Her family narrowly escaped slaughter at the hands of that wretched company from Sand Mateo. She met Greg while committing a guerrilla style raid on the headquarters of MPE:

After shooting the security guards with her Skyrim Lobster Rifle 220, Janet burst into the company's oval office at the exact time Greg was having the meeting confirming their departure. She kicked down the enormous wooden doors with her sexy right leg only to discover Greg tied up and getting absolutely dominated by Freedom, the Neo-Nigerian humanoid hyper-intelligent buff masculine venture capitalist pigeon who helped Greg get the company on its feet. This meeting was the same type of "strategy spawner" the two always used to "come up with ideas for the company." This time was goodbye, so Greg was getting it real good. Needless to say, Janet got flustered like an adolescent female chimp smelling the sweat of an adolescent male for the first time.

She took aim. Freedom, mid-pump, Hugo Boss dress pants and red Supreme underwear around his ankles, whose human left hand was clasped over Greg's throat, barely had time to turn his beak and look at the barrel before a cone-shaped bullet flew through his feathery had at 95% the speed of light. KABOOM!! His upper innards flew everywhere, covering Greg with blood and feathers. Janet put the gun in its holster and approached Greg.

"I'm Janet."

"Gre... pteuh!" they spat out feathers and bone shards. "Greg."

"Pleasure. Look, the way he was making you scream really did something to me. Got my flagella spinning. Can I take you home?"

Our purple nonbinary humanoid entrepreneur, four limbs still shackled, a fifth still raging hard, thought only for a few seconds.

"Well... yeah. Ok. Um, yes."

Janet, now so close she could feel Greg's stuttered breathing on her face, lifted an arm and dragged her nail down their exposed stomach, smiling through her shell.

"Now, that doesn't sound like enthusiastic consent. What's the magic word?"

"Ughhhh..." Greg shivered, "please?"

"Try again."

"Please, goddess?"

Janet removed her finger, pursing her lips under her mask (which Greg couldn't see, but could perceive due to mollusk properties).

"Come on. Your company kills three million of my cousins in just three years, and that's all you can say to me?"

"Well... uhhh..."

Janet interrupted them with a flick to the tip of their veiny purple penis. It bounced back and forth like a doorstop. Greg's pupils dilated and filled their eyes completely.

"Goddess, please take me home, I'd do anything, absolutely anything, to watch you in all your aquatic glory tonight, tomorrow, and every day for a year and a third. PLEASE..."

Janet smirked. The doorstop suddenly stopped oscillating.

"As you wish, twink."

With that, she holstered the rifle, shot the metal holding Greg's shackles to the wall, and carried Greg, limbs still restrained, out the broken door. She looked back... feathers everywhere, and a headless bloody buff human body, with a tuxedo and dark blue monochrome size-14 New Balance sneakers sprawled on the ground. She turned around and left with the former CEO, not noticing the subtle green glow turning on and off from the exposed trachea of the carcass.

Later, she was fully clothed, ramming the barrel of her gun deep inside our purple hominid's rear exit. Greg, arms still bound, was bent over her kitchen counter, next to some leftover phytoplankton seaweed paella. Their brittle screams filled the whole luxury aquatic apartment while Janet remained silent.

"Oh god... I mean goddess, I'm about to cum!! Don't stop!!!!"

Janet stopped, her metal toy pushed halfway inside her new flesh toy.

"NO! Please, the f... what are you doing?"

"I was thinking. You really want to cum, right? Well, I want something too."

Greg struggled to speak. "A-and what would th-that b-be?" Their eyes kept shivering as they struggled to look back at the person whose control they were under. Anything. They would do anything for her to keep going.

Janet smirked under the mask. This was her chance. Finally, after all these years. She spoke with a deadly calm while Greg breathed shakily. "Agree to this. Your character description said you're gonna start 81 companies, right? Agree to dedicate eight of them to undoing the horrors you inflicted on my people. Never repeat what you started in Sand Mateo ever again. And never eat a mollusk ever again. Not you, nor your children, or theirs. Agreed?" Meanwhile, she unintentionally pushed her rifle just deep enough inside Greg that it touched their spot.

"OH FUCK, YES, please, yeah, sure, whatever man, FUCK, just please don't stop..."

[Well that was easy], Janet thought. She kept going. She pushed the smooth black metal back and forth, in its entire depth, inside her 387-year-old partner. The thrusts were fast and hard, with time between each one. Mouth shut, Janet could barely hear the slick sound of the barrel over Greg's screams. Despite her silence, the raspy longing moans were making her wet. Really wet. She bit her lip. [Fuck. If this genocidal plum survives, I gotta sit on that stupid cute face]. She stepped forward slowly and adjusted the butt of the rifle to fall between her legs, and pushed it up against her crotch.

She continued, slightly faster, each stroke pleasing both of them. Greg's fists clenched. Their screams grew longer, more desperate. Less and less intelligible. Fewer words. More music. [Fuck]. Janet tried really hard to stop her voice from escaping. She bit her lip so hard it started bleeding. Small whimpers still escaped, delicate puffs of air every ten strokes. The blood spread through her mouth as her juices spread through the fabric of her pants, obscuring, almost hiding the bloodstains that plagued them.

"FUCK..." Greg lifted their head and slammed it down on the counter, fists clenching harder, knuckles turning pink.

"AHHHHHHHH!!"

They squirted all over the kitchen. Greg lay there, loudly panting, mind three layers behind the eyes. Janet slowly removed the smooth metal barrel. She held it with both hands and licked the juices clean off her weapon. She put her hand on Greg's shaking back and swallowed decadently, eyes closed. She fell asleep right there, standing, mask still on, kitchen still dirty, and the purple CEO remained shackled. They didn't even notice, though. Greg was busy tasting shapes and seeing sounds. So it goes.