Banana Sweets 4 - Red Lucy, deathclaw matriarch

(Woman into deathclaw)

by BananaSweet

Music, cheering, and idle conversation permeated through the streets of Westside and into the Thorn. Forming a constant din, occasionally interrupted by the pops and booms of firearms and fireworks. Red Lucy felt the urge to head back to the surface and join in on the celebrations, but she had work to do and the party wouldn't be over any time soon. She had a clutch of rare Deathclaw eggs to attend to, courtesy of her hunter.

Her hunter. Lucy’s thoughts drifted to them as she made her way through the winding sewer tunnels that made up her arena. Her hunter was a rugged package courier who hunted both beast and human scum alike. They were responsible for the fiends disappearing, they had stocked her arena full of eggs, and helped her community. She had even heard that the same courier who braved deathclaw nests for her, had fought the Legion off Hoover Dam and allowed the entire Mojave to breathe a sigh of relief.

Lucy’s thoughts drifted over to her night with the Courier and the rapturous pleasure she experienced in their arms. She was lost in thought, so much so that she was mere feet from colliding with the animal pen door before the rattling cry of a nightstalker snapped her back to reality.

“Ugh. I should finish this and get to bed.  Getting too tired to think straight,” the huntress mumbled to herself as unlocked the door with practiced speed. The musky scent of animals hit her nose immediately, followed by the cloying sweet smell of the giant ants. No matter how many times she came in here, Lucy could never get herself used to it.

She passed through the menagerie of creatures unaccosted. Not even the caged deathclaws dared growl at the arena master. They were beasts enslaved to their own instincts and desire for bloodshed. Lucy was their sole source of food and sustenance. Only the radscorpions, ghouls, and human animals would be brainless enough to attack her.

The largest cell was just to the side of the nursery, and it held a special animal in her collection. Lucy stopped before it, taking a moment to observe what her fighting stock was doing. Behind the bars, was a collection of what New Vegans referred to as Fiends. Lucy recognized them for what they were, however: animals.

Within the cell were two dozen animals, half or mostly naked and fully feral. Captured from failed raids on the topside, they served as the majority of her fighting stock. They were no different from any other animal she stocked here; they lived to fuck, eat, sleep, and fight. She saw no reason to deprive them of that. Down in the Thorn, they could be their true selves without hurting the people above their heads.

Lucy sneered in disgust at their squalor and pushed through the door into the nursery without sparing a glance back. Warm air surged past her head and the familiar whir of industrial fans ground into her eardrums as the automatic door slammed shut behind her.

Within the nursery sat multiple different racks, pits, devices, and contraptions to accommodate the young of almost any wasteland creature. Some were easy enough to incubate, simply keep them from drying out while incubating. Others were extremely difficult, like the Cazador eggs that needed to be incubated in living flesh. Deathclaw eggs thankfully were much simpler to care for and the sturdy-shelled embryos only needed a small bit of cycling heat.

The prized deathclaw eggs sat in a well-protected nook of the infirmary. Far from anything that could fall or otherwise injure the precious embryos. Three heaters messily wired into the concrete walls kept the alcove warm without blowing the moisture away from the developing eggs.

She knelt down beside the damp medium that held the eggs and slipped a flashlight out from one of her many coat pockets. Her free hand gingerly scooped up an egg from the artificial nest and brought it to the flashlight in her other hand. The light penetrated through the thick eggshell, the vessel radiating a soft pink light shadowed by the nascent deathclaw forming within.

“Aren’t you beautiful,” Lucy whispered under her breath as she set the egg back into the depression it had created in the nest. She repeated the action for each of the eggs until she got to the last one of the clutch. Compared to the other eggs, this one was discolored a greenish-white compared to the soft brown cream color of its siblings. It was likely a bad egg but its pale sire might have caused the strange coloration.

Lucy wrapped her fingers around the suspicious egg and pulled up. White-hot pain stabbed through the palm of her hand as Lucy screeched a string of expletives that echoed off the concrete walls. The egg had cracked under its own weight, sending glass-like shards of eggshell into her palms. Adding to the pain was a drizzling of discolored albumen that reeked of sulfur.

Swallowing both her disgust and the pain, Lucy gingerly moved her wounded hand cradling the egg away from the others before letting it fall to the concrete floor. It made a mess as it cratered the floor, although that was the least of Lucy’s concerns. She was quickly hunched over a nearby sink plucking out the shards embedded deep in her hand, a tide of red filling the sink basin as the cool water washed away the filth and blood.

Even with the shards removed, the multiple opened wounds seeped angrily and shouted their pain when exposed to the dry air. She stumbled over to the nearby first-aid cabinet and angrily splashed some antiseptic from within onto her hand. It stung, stung to the point where the teeth digging into her lips tasted iron.

As Lucy dressed her bleeding hand, her skull tensed as vestigial muscles tried to swivel her ears towards a sound. Someone had just opened the door to the nursery quietly like they weren’t supposed to be here. When Lucy turned around, she had been expecting to catch some Scorpion or Fiend who managed to find a way down into the thorn, or some employee who was too quiet for their own good. What she wasn’t expecting, however, was for a 10-foot male Deathclaw swathed in a dusty robe to be towering over everything else in the nursery.

Her chest grew tight, the pain in her hand and everything else in the world faded away. She was going to die, ripped to ribbons in her own establishment. There was nothing on her that could stop a deathclaw and she was too far away to scramble through a door before the beast would be upon her. She took a deep breath and stared the beast in the eyes as she waited for it to be upon her.

Seconds that felt like hours passed by and yet the deathclaw had not yet moved. It blinked, and slowly raised a pale hand up and shook it from side to side at her. Did it just wave at me? Lucy thought to herself. Oh shit it’s white, are these its e-

“Hello! Sorry if I scared you I ah, wasn’t planning on running into anyone down here. Thought you’d be topside celebrating.” The deathclaw spoke.

Fear was replaced in an instance with confusion. Yet Lucy remained rooted to her position as her brain short-circuited trying to fully grasp the situation with the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Her mouth opened and moved to speak, yet no words escaped her lips.

“What?!” She finally managed to squawk as she shakily turned around to face the overgrown chameleon.

“Yes, pardon the confusion, Red Lucy. I am indeed a talking deathclaw. I’m not here to hurt you, I’m just here to retrieve some eggs of mine that you acquired. I have caps to compensate you for the loss, they’re not of much use to me as you can imagine. Oh silly me I forgot to mention my name! I’m Goris.” He explained. The shawl draped over his horns receded with a small tilt of his head.

Lucy’s heart sank when she heard why the deathclaw was here. She was in no position to argue with him, he would be leaving with the eggs since he was a goddamn deathclaw! The caps would help offset the costs some, but the loss of revenue from not having deathclaws to fight with would be far greater.

“That’s fine?” Lucy trailed, still unsure of her own voice. For whatever reason, she felt oddly flustered in the towering reptile’s presence. She had always thought Deathclaws to be majestic creatures, and she was feeling that unusually strong right now. “How, how many caps are we talking about?”

Goris’s brow furrowed in an oddly human expression. “Bit over a thousand. I haven’t kept good track of it, it’s hard to pay for services when you’re my shape. But that’s what I counted when I last did so, and I’ve added a considerable more onto it since. Probably not enough to make up for what they’d make in fights but you could pay your Courier to go fetch you more with them.”

“That’s quite generous… Goris? Excuse my curiosity, but how did you get in? Also, you happen to know of my Hunter?” She questioned as she inched her way over to the nest. Her entire body was trembling, which was very uncharacteristic of her. Heat built in her core, until she unbuttoned her leather duster and threw the heavy duster off in a corner. Cool air rushed down and soothed her heated torso clad in a tank-top stained from countless hours of work.

The deathclaw stepped up beside Lucy and stooped over to look at the nest better. Rather than feeling abject fear at the apex predator standing beside her, Lucy felt what could best be described as attraction. Her eyes were drawn to his scaly skin and the dusty robe that concealed them, how they bulged around and barely hid the dense rippling muscle underneath. She gazed up to his horns, their smooth surface catching the soft fluorescent light as his hood slid down their length.

She was so focused that she didn’t notice his hand drawing closer until a heavy claw tapped her on the shoulder. “Are you okay? You’re spacing out hard there. Did you hear what I said?”

“Huh! No, I didn’t. Sorry, I’m just not feeling, right?” The redhead trailed as she shook her head. She was feeling even hotter now. So uncomfortable that she was already peeling off her top and exposing her bare chest to the air before she realized that she was half-naked in front of a stranger. To make matters even worse, the prospect of removing her jeans was sounding appealing.

“Hmm. That’s what I’m afraid of. You cut your hand on that bad egg; So you got exposed to the FEV that I carry. It certainly explains the fever you’re breaking out in.” Goris casually chimed as he bent over and gingerly scooped up the eggs from the artificial nest and placed them in a rucksack slung over his spiny back. His neutral expression faltered for a moment as his eyes gazed over the remains of his failed offspring.

Lucy blinked. “Wait. You’re telling me I’ve got FEV! I’m going to become some fucking super mutant?!” Lucy exclaimed as her legs wobbled. She felt weak, barely able to support her own weight as she began to strip off her pants to catch some form of relief from the boiling heat inside her.

Goris stared at her as he slowly scooped up the embryo from the floor and tucked it into an old beaten-up pouch strapped around his waist. “Not likely, no. The Mariposa strain does that, and there’s none of that left after The Master was killed. The strain in me was made to make deathclaws intelligent, and it fails to do more than giving a simple cold to most of them. You? No telling what could happen. Most likely you’ll either survive or die.”

“Hrmph!” She responded in primordial discomfort. Her body didn’t feel like it was hers. Some primordial aspect deep inside was screeching to her brain that something was going terribly wrong. The panties wrapped around her waist were tight, tighter than they had been when she put them on. It wasn’t a regular tightness either, the discomfort of pressed flesh was building at the wings of her pelvis.

I’m becoming a mutie! A primal voice snarled in her head in equal parts fear and rage. Her hips were becoming wide, wider than any human ought to be. The gap between her thighs expanded until it looked and felt as though a securitron could wheel its way underneath. Her nerves screamed, the elastic band of her panties strangling her further and further with each passing moment. A loud snap echoed through the concrete room as the nylon underwear finally ripped under the immense strain.

“Oh my, this is unexpected,” Goris dryly commented as his gaze fell to her thighs.

“You don’t say?!” Lucy spat as the discomfort in her lower half forced her onto all fours. With her arms now holding some of her weight the bones in her legs shifted to a digitigrade stance. Her feet and toes lengthened as they became raptorial talons fit for a deathclaw. Furthering her discomfort, she felt a tugging on her spinal cord as something above her asscheeks bulged and pushed outward against her skin.

Without warning the pressure released all at once and Lucy became aware of brand new muscles that she could tense. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw that she now had a short tail roughly the size of forearm. While she couldn’t move it much, the added weight on her backside allowed her to stand up straight much easier than before.

“I’m becoming a deathclaw?” She murmured as she flexed her clawed feet and scraped small grooves in the concrete. Glancing down to look at her new anatomy in greater detail, she noticed that her skin was starting to take on a reddish hue as scales, scutes, and osteoderms formed under her skin. “Hehe, I get it. I’m Red Lucy, so I’m red…” The changing woman chuckled, a genuine smile emerging on her strained face.

Once again her center of gravity suddenly shifted forward and Lucy fell accordingly. Her arms shot out, keeping her from kissing the concrete with her nose. Catching her breath, she felt the muscles in her arm tighten to the point where she could no longer move them and get back onto her feet. The limbs creaked as the bones within lengthened and thickened, layer upon layer of thick muscle accompanied the growth of bone. Her hands clenched as they changed from the rough-yet-delicate hands of a huntress to the savage titular claws of a deathclaw.

Like a rubber band snapping back, the changes rebounded from her arms and into her torso. Vertebrae cracked and popped as her spine grew larger and more robust to support her growing bulk. Her sternum swelled outward, cartilage popping satisfyingly as the viscera beneath swelled outward to occupy the new glut of space. Blood pounded in Lucy's ear as her new deathclaw heart surged FEV and new hormones towards her brain.

“Fffuuuuck!” Lucy growled, momentarily taken aback by how deep her voice sounded. “Why does this feel so good~ Like I’m streeeeching!” Her voice trailed off into a primal growl as her tail extended out to a proper length. The new extension smashing against the concrete as Lucy flexed her new muscles.

“If I may hypothesize…” Goris trailed, rubbing his snout. “You have an exceptional amount of hormones in your blood, dulling the pain among other things. There is also… I suppose I shan’t beat around the bush. You smell like you’re in heat, it’s very noticeable.” The pale deathclaw stated with a slight lilt in his voice. His composure was starting to collapse, if the triangular bulge near the bottom of his robe was anything to judge by.

The bones in Lucy’s head and neck began to creak as the final stages of her transformation began. By now the FEV had spread all throughout her spinal cord and seeped into her brain. She was a deathclaw, and she wanted to get rid of this ill-fitting head on her shoulders. The wait is mercifully short as her neck swells outward and her shoulders hunch in the characteristic deathclaw fashion.

Goris’s scent grows sharp in her nostrils as she feels her mandible and maxilla grow outwards into a proper muzzle. A thickening cord-like tongue slid along her mouth as old human teeth clattered to the ground below, and fresh predatory chompers took their freed sockets. Her ears receded into her head and hair streamed down her body as scales flowed up from her body like water. The nursery around her grew brighter as her human eyes were gradually lost in a growing yellow glow. Then, finally, Lucy felt a deep pressure forming in her scalp before two magnificent horns sprouted from her head. Each angled forward at a 90 degree angle like built in spears on her head.

The newly minted matriarch breathed heavily through her inhuman nose, each drag of air stewing her receptors in the rich scent of the male across from her. Freed from her human inhibitions, Lucy plodded towards the albino deathclaw and set a clawed hand upon his chest. Feeling the thick, corded muscle lying just underneath his tattered brown robe.

“Uh, Lucy! Your heat is, it’s making it hard for me to think too,” the spicy scent of her arousal was making it difficult to form words. He felt warm, his scales tingling at her touch as blood surged to his skin. Downstairs, it felt like his shaft was about to burst. The pulsating organ practically drooling lubrication onto the porous concrete below. “Are you -nngh- in there still?”

Lucy’s muzzle twisted into a smug grin. “Yes, and I need you~” She breathed into his ear, her voice a low bassy grumble. Her claws hooked around his robe and pulled the tattered garment off before her body all but slammed into his and took them both to the floor. Her claws wrapped around his shoulders possessively before he could sufficiently react, holding him in place as her molten sex hovered mere centimeters above his pulsating red shaft.

“I don’t think it’s going to change our minds at this point. But you are going to have eggs if we continue with this, provided the FEV didn’t steril-” His words cut off as a red hand clamped over his muzzle.

“Good~” Lucy snarled at the pinned male. “No more talking, now we breed~!” She spoke the word breed with a sort of reverence, her breath hitching with every syllable. Her hips lowered centimeter by centimeter, until finally Lucy felt the tip of her mate’s turgid member spearing past her soaked lips. Without warning or a hint of apprehension, she relaxed her hips and let gravity do the rest.

Pleasure exploded in her core, radiating straight up her spine as every muscle in her body tensed. Lucy roared, it was all she could do to express the pure bliss that she felt in that moment. Her claws dug into her mate, drawing a small amount of blood and a not so subtle growl from Goris.

Before she had a chance to recover, the pale alpha embedded within her pushed off the concrete floor. Caught off-guard by the sudden burst of movement, Lucy had no choice other than to be pushed onto her back and be pinned underneath her larger mate. Goris snarled and dug his claws into her chest and sides, mouth shooting forwards and grabbing her by the neck.

Her breaths came heavy as she was drenched in his scent, each subtle flexing of her throat pressing it against the smooth hardness of his teeth. The fighting urge within her disappeared in a flash, her body becoming limp and relaxed beneath the primeval ferocity of her mate. When his jaws pulled away from her neck, Lucy felt sad to feel the leave. Something about the sheer possessiveness was exhilarating on a level she couldn’t describe.

“Mine!” Goris snarled in a deep animalistic tone, far removed from his normal scholarly inflection. “You are mine! My mate! I am in charge here, and you will carry my eggs!” His red eyes were now twin orbs of fury, though there was no intent to harm behind them. He was merely putting an uppity matriarch in her place, as was natural. “Beg for it,” he commanded.

“Please!” Lucy whimpered as she snaked and coiled her tail around her alpha’s. “Breed me! I need eggs, I need your eggs! I’m just your mate, I belong to you!”

Goris smiled and leaned in close, drawing his hips back and slamming them forwards again to punctuate his words. “Good girl~ You’re just needy, I know not to keep you waiting now.” He rumbled into her ear as his hips thrusted in a slow but powerful rhythm. His ribbed cock rubbed every sensitive pocket in her slit with its passage.

Though both were sapient creatures, deathclaws were powerful and primal creatures that thrived in the harsh wastes. The abundance of hormones flooding into their system from their shared carnal act was quickly crowding out anything that didn’t pertain to mating. Both became lost in a swampy morass of arousal, forgetting to speak to one another as they growled, snarled, chirped, and chuffed in primal displays of affection.

The male’s thrusts grew stronger and faster as the pleasure in both reached new heights. Bodies of iron-hard corded muscle thrashed and ground against one another. Claws and teeth dug into their scales, some drawing blood as the stimulation flooded their senses and dulled whatever little pain their engineered bodies felt. Goris and Red Lucy were lost, reduced to animalistic engines of carnal desire.

Forty minutes of raw, animalistic breeding passed. The two deathclaws now sweaty and trembling masses as their hips mashed together. They were both close, their breath short and ragged as they tried to handle the sensation. It grew stronger and stronger by the second until it became overwhelming, and yet neither could stop until the neurotransmitter dams burst open and the world outside them faded from existence.

There was only pleasure, pleasure so thick and pure it made it stop the breath. Pints of thick, alabaster seed were pumped into the quivering and undulating walls of Red Lucy. The matriarch mewling as a sense of warmth radiated out from her core and into her tingling limbs. Then, after what felt like an eternity. The sensation stopped and Goris collapsed onto the prone form of his mate. Each breathing heavily with eyes closed from exhaustion.

Only the sound of voices echoing down the hollow corridors managed to rouse the two an hour later.

“Man, hic! Imagine like, like, if we got Yao-Guais in this place!” A man’s voice rang out.

“Yehehesh! Or like bullsh or some shit, could call it ‘Battle for Hoover Dam’ speshil!” A deeper voice joined in.

“Man! Why it smell like fucking DICK in here?” The latter cried out.

Goris and Red Lucy quickly peeled their sweat-soaked bodies apart, the loud drunkards having pulled them from their post-coital stupor. The albino male hurriedly tossed his robe and packs back onto his person, and gestured for Lucy to follow him through a door leading to an old storage area. She hesitated for a moment, The Thorn was her life’s work, and there would be no coming back to it once she left. But, she had little choice otherwise. If she stayed here, she’d inevitably end up fighting the rest of her short and bloody life in the arena.

Taking a long and forlorn look behind her, Lucy walked past her Alpha and flinched as the door slammed shut behind them.

…

Goris and Red Lucy fled The Thorn before anyone was the wiser, leaving only the overpowering scent of deathclaw sex in their passing. The two sought shelter in Jacobstown for a short while, Goris meeting with Markus and reminiscing over their shared adventures with a tribal from Arroyo. Eventually the two said their goodbyes and departed towards lands unknown. The dream of Vault 13 carried in Lucy’s belly.