Dan and the Cultists [Fallout] [EU] [Sci-fi][Voyeurism] [Handjob] [Inflation] [Stretching] [Excess Cum]

**Author note: Oof didn’t mean to take this long.**

Tom sat at the bar, head down, drink in his hand. He was asleep. The sun shone through the widows, and townspeople shifted around him. Most assumed he was a drunk, or a drifter from his dirty clothes and sullied boots. No use bothering one of those. Plenty of drunks wandered out into the wasteland never to be seen again. Tom had taken one sip of ‘whiskey’ before falling asleep.

Someone kicked his stool, waking him with a start. He was exhausted, both from running for his life last night and dodging raider crews in the dark with a half-naked Alli. Tom looked around to see a big meathead of a man staring down at him. He must have been twice as wide as Tom, bulging with muscles and wearing a wide brimmed brown hat. Nice hat.

“What do you want?” Tom grumbled, still groggy from his short nap.

“Don’t need some drunk in my seat.” Meathead grunted.

“Your seat?”

“Mine.”

“Oh yeah, well where’s your name on it?” Tom sneered. Meathead ushered him to sit up, which he obliged only to find a crude name carved in with a knife: TIM.

“Right there. Move, drunk.” Tim grunted. It was only a one vowel difference. So close. Tom shrugged and took his drink with him. He moved one chair down before putting his forehead on the cool countertop again.

“That seat belongs to Tum,” said Tim. Tom looked up.

“How many of you are there? And *Tum?”*

“Ain’t nobody gonna judge what a mama named their son,” Tim leaned forward. The bartender poured him a drink without him asking, a clear liquid that could have been vodka, could have been toilet water mixed with rubbing alcohol. It was a real tossup. “And there’s 5 of us. Me, Tum, Tem, Tam, Tym.” He said the last name like ‘time.’

“What about…Tom?”

Tim just shook his head and stared into his drink. “Never Tom.” He whispered.

Finding himself in poor company and deciding this wasn’t the place for him, Tom got out of Tum’s seat and scuttled out of the bar. It was slightly overcast today, which was a nice change of pace from New California’s normally unbearable sun. He didn’t even need a hat. A few people looked at him funny, surprised he wasn’t stumbling. Tom instinctually looked at his Pip-Boy before remembering he didn’t have it with him. Odd, how dependent he was on it.

After arriving at the town earlier that morning, covered in dirt and scrapes. Luckily, there was a man there who *claimed* that he could repair the Pip-Boy’s light, as well as upgrade the tracking system. Tired, desperate, and wanting a rest, Tom had given it to the mechanic, affectionately named Crazy Kevin.

Alli had been holed up in the local motel, scrubbing violently at herself to get clean. He staggered through the dusty streets, locals staring at him in confusion from under dusty hats. Crazy Kevin had told him it wouldn’t take too long.

He didn’t know how much he trusted someone with a moniker like that, but he was the closest thing the town had to a mechanic and seemed more eager to work on the Pip-Boy than to get paid. Tom wasn’t *cheap*, never. He just…Didn’t have a lot of money on him at the moment. Alli, thankfully, seemed to have forgotten she was even working a job.

A couple of the townsfolk stepped around him. He thought he heard them whispering something but couldn’t catch on. When he thought he heard his name, he spun around to find the two people far away. Too far for him to have heard anything.

Rubbing his eyes with his knuckles, Tom wondered if he was just tired. Running through the wasteland from a nympho Deathclaw could tire anyone out.

He dug his notes out of a pocket, flipping through them. Dan appeared to have a superior sense of smell far beyond other Deathclaws. This must have been attributed to some mutation, though he wouldn’t be able to know without a sample of his skin to look for one. On top of that, it appeared his breeding instincts had gone haywire. Instead of looking for others of his species, he saw everything as a suitable mate. Why was that? It was easy to blow everything off as being some freak mutation in the DNA, but Deathclaws were already resilient to radiation. There shouldn’t have been anymore natural changes to their genetic sequences.

Someone could have made him that way. Tom was hardly the only scientist interested in the physiology of the apex predator. But why would someone want to turn one into a sex maniac then? It didn’t make sense. You’d benefit more from amplifying their already heightened killer instincts.

He pursed his lips. He’d have to continue his observations to deduce any other special abilities that Dan may have possessed. When he tucked his notes away, he noticed everyone staring at him. They looked somewhere else as soon as he finished his musing. Acne scarred faces and tobacco yellow teeth turned away.

Tom quickened his pace to Crazy Kevin’s, vaguely aware of the townspeople. Now that he got a better look at them and wasn’t as deliriously tired, he saw that many were thin as dead trees. Old clothes hung off pallid skin. Even the women had a greasy sneer and saggy tits, picking at cracked fingernails.

He was nearly running by the time he arrived at Crazy Kevin’s shack. Much like its resident, the home was quite the eclectic collection of trinkets. Sunbleached bones hung from string, tied together like macabre wind chimes. Rat corpses nailed to the floor boards buzzed with flies. There was a whole family of taxidermized squirrels arranged to have a tea party on the front porch.

Well, plenty of people had their weird habits. He couldn’t judge. Tom knocked.

After a paranoid minute of waiting, the door creaked open, Crazy Kevin poking his eye through the slot. When he saw Tom, he split into a wide toothless grin. “Ah! Pippy Boy! You’re back!”

“It’s Tom,” he said.

“Good one, Pippy Boy,” cackled Crazy Kevin. “Come, come in. Your watch is nearly complete,” The door swung open to the stench of stale cigarettes. Tom didn’t seem fit to correct a literal madman about the watch comment. He stepped into the dingy domain. Crazy Kevin slammed the door behind him and proceeded to seal it shut with four different locks.

“Don’t look at me like that. Can’t be too safe!”

“Er, right.” Tom said, remembering the stares of the locals.

There were empty bottles everywhere, but under the cigarette smell was citrus. He gave one of the bottles a whiff, surprised to find that it wasn’t grain alcohol but juice. Tom watched Crazy Kevin prance over to a workbench littered with rusty tools.

“It’s a bit old,” rambled the old man. “But works! Your tracker should be amplified now, and I had to replace a bulb. I just need to tighten the screen and you can get out of here.” He grabbed a screwdriver, tried it, threw it over his shoulder, and grabbed a smaller one.

“About payment…”

“No need! It’s just a privilege to work on one of these, Pippy Boy. All these crazy cooks around here have to repair are mechanical dildos and old guns. No challenge!” He cried, twitching a bit in the shoulder. Tom deflated in relief. He was worried that Crazy Kevin would end up taking a weapon to Tom for payment. He was getting remarkably lucky, which was a nice change of pace from his usual string of fuckery.

“The folks around here do seem a bit strange.” Tom admitted. He was about to make himself comfortable, but after seeing the holes in the chair, decided it would be better to stand.

“They are strange folk. Strange, strange. Got their god, or whatever.”

“Uh, what?”

“Oh, they’re cultists, every last one of them,” lamented Crazy Kevin. “Every third Tuesday they gather out in the waste and wait for some giant lizard! Sacrifices, orgies, a *shitton* of drugs. You know, the whole cultist thing!”

Tom’s skin crawled, and he did a bit of math in his head. His stomach dropped. “It’s the third Tuesday today.”

Crazy Kevin stopped his tweaking for a second.

“Oof, you’re right, Pippy Boy. Best you and that girl get going,” and he shook with laughter. Tom tapped his foot irritably as he waited for the maybe not-so-crazy Kevin to finish his repairs. When the man turned around, beaming with pride at his work, Tom nearly ripped the Pip-Boy from his fingers in a panic. He had no desire to be in town when everyone decided to turn into a mad cultist. He also had no desire to figure out what giant lizard it was they worshipped.

“Be safe, Pippy Boy! Ask Tom the Squirrel for a blessing,” called Crazy Kevin, jabbing a finger at the largest of taxidermy squirrels. Tom blinked down at it, catching his reflection in its black eyes. What the hell with this town and their ‘T’ names?

“Maybe later,” mumbled Tom before sprinting off down the street, toward the rickety motel Alli was staying at. He quickly clapped his Pip-Boy on his wrist, screen flickering on. There were less people in the street.

The Pip-Boy started blinking. Tom swore and ran faster, chasing away his exhaustion.

“Well hi there mister,” called the chipper receptionist as he burst into the motel. She was probably the prettiest person in the whole town, with long hair done up in pigtails and freckles dotting her nose. When she smiled, he saw her teeth were bright and taken care of.

Ignoring her, he ran down the hallway. Past dimly lit lamps. Over stained red carpet. He got to Alli’s room and carelessly threw the door open, blessing her young nativity for not locking the door. Alli yelped, pulling a sheet over her naked body with one hand and swinging a pistol over with the other. Tom nearly ducked out of fear of losing his brains.

“Tom?” She lowered the gun.

“Dan’s here,” breathed the panicked scientist. He leaned on his knees. “And the people here…They’re cultists!”

She gave him a funny look. “Yeah, I know.”

“You *what*?”

“They’re showing all the typical culty vibes! I even asked that nice girl out there and she just straight up told me they were all in a cult. Y’know, pretty progressive for a cult, admitting they’re in one.” Alli hummed. He stared at her in disbelief.

“Why are you naked?”

“I was showering? You know, you could probably use one.” She sniffed.

“Enough of that! Enough showering! We have to *go*. Didn’t you hear? Cult? Dan? They apparently worship a giant lizard. Who does that?”

“Don’t people worship some old guy in the sky?”

“It’s different!”

“Sounds like a daddy kink to me.”

“Alli! Clothes!” Tom snapped. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Fiiiiine,” She let the sheets drop and Tom found his pants straining. When not stretched and spitroasted on Supermutants, she was petite and attractive. She caught his gaze, glanced down at his pants. A sly smile spread on her face. “Or would you like to…?”

“Dan’s here.” Tom croaked, throat dry.

“Right. Right. Killing you and raping me and all that,” Alli pranced over to her closed, wet hair clinging to her shoulders. “Not really rape if I want it though.”

“I very much want to not be killed, however.”

“Right, right. Seems reasonable.” She wiggled into her underwear and a bra, quickly dressing herself. Tom glanced nervously at his Pip Boy, which continued to warn him that Dan was nearby. He tried to click the warning away to no avail. Crazy Kevin must have added some sort of software. Probably. Tom wasn’t the best with technology.

Once dressed, Alli pranced over to her moth chewed bed, pulling her rifle out from under the mattress. She slapped the weapon affectionately. “Alright –”

Footsteps cut her off, following a chipper ‘that way’ from the receptionist. Tom cursed, gesturing toward the window. “Out, now.”

“Again?” She protested, but Tom shoved her toward it. They both crawled through and fell into the dirt as soon as the footsteps came to their door and flung it open.

“Where’s the bitch?”

“The bald bastard was here a second ago.”

“Fuck! Find them!” Rough shouting came from inside.

“We’re running,” hissed Tom. “Now. Go.” Together they crawled next to the building, staying close to it as if that would make them smaller. For the second time in a couple of days, he was jumping through a window and crawling through the dirt. Once from a sex crazed Deathclaw and now from cultists. The things he did for science!

They hid behind some bushes as a group of dirty and drug fueled locals ran down the street, looking for them. Some carried machetes, a few had weapons. Tom noticed one of them swinging around the pistol Alli had left on the bed. He resisted chastising her for her carelessness in that moment.

He covered his flashing Pip-Boy as they dove between dirty houses. They couldn’t just run into the wastes, they would be spotted. It would have been best to wait until night, to take it slow and –

They stumbled past a shack and saw a large ring of people out in the middle of the wastes. Alli grabbed Tom to prevent him from rolling down a small hill. They scurried into the safety of the shadow. They had been skirting through the down for the better part of a couple of hours.

“Shit,” muttered Alli.

“Absolutely fucking ridiculous,” Tom groaned. “That’s the big lizard?”

Approaching the ring of cultists, who were dressed in long brown robes, was *Dan*. The Deathclaw sauntered up, tail swinging and nostrils flaring. Even from the distance Tom could see some of the robed figures shifting nervously as the towering beasts shadow fell over them. Amazingly, Dan didn’t fly into a murderous frenzy. Instead, he sniffed a few and rumbled.

“Oh, Great One,” started one of the cultists, throwing their arms out. “We bring you a sacrifice of flesh, to keep your mighty appetite at bay!” Tom frowned. Sacrificing people to a Deathclaw would only make it continue to return to the spot for more food, not out of good will. They couldn’t have good will. They were *animals*.

The scientist in him was angry, but the human in him was very worried about being captured and sacrificed.

“Look upon your feast!” The cultist swung an arm toward a pair of figures who had stepped away from the group. Dan growled, and they reached up ad pulled at the buttons of their robes. When they dropped, so did Tom’s jaw. One of them was the cute, pig-tailed receptionist. The other was a woman with long, red hair, face spotted with freckles. Both of them had stunning figures, curves in all the right places and then some. The rest of the townspeople must have been feeding these women, fattening them up!

Dan’s long dick rolled out of its sheath, the flared tip already oozing precum onto the sand.

“Holy shit, he’s gonna –” started Alli.

“I know what he’s going to do,” snapped Tom, watching in amazement as the two women walked toward Dan, whose massive cock was already erect. His balls dropped, and his chest rose with needy breaths.

The receptionist was the first to her knees, lapping at the tip of his cock. It didn’t take long for her tits to get lathered in precum, unable to keep up. The second woman – Red, Tom decided he’d call her – was a bit hesitant but eventually joined Receptionist on her knees. Red crawled underneath Dan’s sack, lapping at it. She tried and failed to fit his huge nuts in her mouth.

Tom started sweating from the heat as the sun broke through the clouds, and he tried to quietly take out his notebook to record this. This was the first time Dan hadn’t exhibited hostile behavior to men. So, if the women were offered on the man’s behalf, he would spare them? Tom glanced at Alli out the corner of his eye. The younger woman was entranced, licking her lips and rubbing her thigh.

He wouldn’t abandon her for Dan, he told himself. He may have been a sneaky, cowardly scientist, but he wasn’t a scoundrel. The memory of Dan clawing off half the Supermutants face and throwing a raider through a window returned to him.

No, no way would he use her to save himself.

Red and Receptionist had switched spots, Red scooping up precum and rubbing it over her cunt. The ring of cultists didn’t move, ominously quiet as the two women moaned and slurped at the flared cock. Dan’s claws twitched, midnight eyes flickering around as if anyone would dare challenge his claim to the two women.

Receptionist got on her knees, pulling Red into a violent kiss. Her hand slipped between Red’s legs, drawing a loud groan out of her. Tom wrote furiously of Dan’s response to the stimuli, trying to ignore his tented pants. The two women pushed against each other, only stopping occasionally to return to Dan’s cock and slurp off the dribbling precum.

Red had the larger tits, and guided Dan’s cock between them. The Deathclaw snarled and started to slowly grind into her. The animal part of his brain quickly took over and he was soon bucking, Red struggling to stay on her knees as her chest became lathered in spit and pre. Receptionist tried to keep her upright, but a particularly strong thrust sent her sprawling on her back.

Receptionist seemed to know something that Red didn’t, scrambling away as Dan fell over her. Red’s face screwed up in a mixture of fear and confusion as Dan’s cock rested on her chest, the tip of it poking past her full breasts.

Tom and Alli shared a look. They knew what was coming.

Receptionist had to hold Red still as Dan pushed himself inside her. She groaned, lifting her legs up around his sides as her stomach bulged from the invader. The cultists cheered, throwing their hands up as the woman was stuffed.

“He has chosen!”

Dan’s tail swished, dangerously close to knocking someone’s head off as he thrust. Red’s wails turned into meager grunts as she was used as another one of his cocksleeves. Once Receptionist was sure her companion wasn’t going anywhere, she leaned back and thrust her crotch toward Dan’s face. A long pink tongue slithered out from between his teeth, running over her pussy. He pushed his nose against her, and she drooped her head back, ponytails dangling and eyes rolling in pleasure.

Tom almost jumped out of his clothes as a hand grabbed his crotch. He shot Alli a harsh glance, but the younger girl was grinning at him. Her hand dove down his pants. “C’mon.”

“Shush. I’m studying,” muttered Tom, who didn’t stop her as she fished his cock out. As desperately as he wanted her to blow him before letting him fuck her, he knew something that obvious would be disastrous to their position. She casually jerked him off as they watched Dan lay claim.

Receptionist came, gushing over Dan’s face as his tongue vanished up her pussy. His nostrils flared and eyes went wide as her scent overwhelmed him. With a roar, he stood up and took Red with him. Tom’s eyes went wide as the woman practically slid down the remaining length of his cock, stretched to the brim around him. Her feet twitched and drool visibly ran down the corners of her mouth. Even others seem surprised, halting in their swaying and chanting.

Alli jerked him off faster now, body pressed against him and breathing on his ear. He tried not to focus on how her breasts pushed against his shoulder, or how close she was to biting his ear. Through the fog of pleasure, Tom continued to scribble his scientific observations of what was going on.

Dan seemed to move his hips without thinking, horned head snapped back and forth. Red bounced like a doll on someone’s lap, limbs limp, eyes and mouth wide. She reached up with weak hands to hold onto the bulge in her stomach. Then she came, visibly squirting onto Dan and splattering on the ground. She squealed like a stuck pig.

Obsidian claws wrapped around her body, holding her still as Dan used her, nuts swaying. Receptionist crawled under him, dangerously close to getting knocked out by the heavy sack. She lapped at it, nearly shoving her whole hand inside of herself.

Watching Red get railed with increasing intensity, Alli tugging at his cock and breathing on his neck, Tom couldn’t take it anymore. He tried to resist his own orgasm, hand shaking as his erratic notes marked how Dan was breeding.

He and the Deathclaw came at the same time. Tom’s cock twitched, shooting a rope of cum high into the air. Alli’s soft lips clamped around the head of his cock and he choked back a ground as she sucked, drinking the rest of his orgasm. Red wasn’t so lucky, pushed down to the balls and forced to stay there as she was pumped full of cum. The cultists cheered and hollered in ecstasy as their sacrifice was accepted, Red a twitching, gibbering mess as her stomach inflated and cum poured like water out of her.

Practically blinded by lust, Tom barely was able to register the fact Dan was turning his head toward them.

Alli squeaked as Tom yanked her back behind their tiny shed, dick going limp. He peeked around the corner. Dan let Red slide off him, cum gushing out of her. Receptionist was licking at his jizz covered shaft, making a real mess of herself. Then the strangest thing happened.

Dick slipping back in its sheath, Dan grabbed Red by the leg and Receptionist by the torso before turning and stomping off into the waste. Tom thought he could hear Receptionists cries of surprise turning to cries for help, but they faded as they walked off. He tried to control his breathing, and slapped Alli’s wandering hand away.

“You taste good.” She breathed, smiling stupidly.

“We need to follow Dan.”

“Eh?”

“He just *took* those two women,” said Tom eagerly. “Deathclaw never show that kind of behavior!”

“How are we uh,” Alli pointed to the gathered townsfolk who were making their way back. “Going to get out?”

“Go around?”

“Oh. Right.” She said. Tom shoved his dick back in his pants, tried to ignore the fact his bodyguard just swallowed his load, and shoved her forward. They spent the next couple of hours dodging townspeople and shifting ever closer to the direction Dan went. Once they were clear, they broke off into the horizon at a sprint. Tom glanced at his Pip-Boy for a moment to make sure they were heading the right direction. As the terror and stress of the situation faded, the exhaustion from not sleeping the day before soon caught up with him. He suppressed it and focused on moving forward. He looked at his Pip-Boy again just to make sure.

Tom tripped and sprawled out on the ground, passing out.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/dcmzfy/dan_and_the_cultists_fallout_eu_scifivoyeurism