part 2 yayyyy i hope it's up to standards! unfortunately the ao3 author curse hath befallen me (i made a fucky wucky and fell down some stairs) but i have emerged victorious without any lasting/permanent injuries and my medical bills have been vanquished with the mighty sword of worker's compensation, huzzah! i'm very lucky -- i'm all healed up and can now dedicate more time to being Freaky >:3

The alternate sets the clock back down on Mark's nightstand after it decides how to play with him next.

The alternate writhes and shakes as it lets the 'clothing' melt from its form, absorbing its outer coat into its flesh until it has been replaced with a perfect mimicry of human skin. It rolls its shoulders, making sure to get a nice angle of the way simulated muscles rippled under its skin with the camera. It's a perfect replica of Cesar Torres... almost. Where a human penis should be, there is nothing but a slit between its legs, concealing its genitalia. It inserts a couple fingers into its slit, and when it removes them, they emerge coated in a viscous fluid.

It uses the thick slick covering its fingers to lubricate Mark's cock, stroking up and down his member to thoroughly coat it. Occasionally, it gently fingers his foreskin and rubs the head of his cock as it perks up under the attention. The alternate coos adoringly as Mark arches his back, pressing his head into his pillow and making soft, needy grunts as it brings his cock back to a full erection with its languid strokes. It wipes off a bead of precum from his drooling cock with its thumb, and pops the digit into its mouth, savoring the taste. He really does taste good, it should suck him off more often.

Once his cock is stiff and dripping, the alternate allows its sheath to withdraw and uncover its genitalia. Its sheath pulls back to reveal two plump lips, reminiscent of a human's labia. The resemblance to a human pussy ends there; the outer lips of its sheath turn outwards to reveal small claspers, and between its folds several small, wriggling tentacles line its entrance. It had even managed to figure out how to synthesize the chemicals that allowed bioluminescence since its last visit, and had put the knowledge to good use; its tentacles and vulva emanated a faint, bluish glow. It makes sure to catch its new equipment at a good angle for Mark to view later, turning the camera to capture how beautifully its slick gleams with reflected light.

After some more amateur camerawork, it lines itself up with the tip of Mark's cock, recording the way it disappears into its hole agonizingly slowly. It doesn't need to go this slow; it can adjust its innards as needed and it didn't even need to stretch, but it wanted to draw the moment out for Mark. It knows how to build tension, after all. The alternate sighs as it bottoms out, sitting on his lap and rocking its hips to feel the stretch and weight of Mark's dick inside it. Its tentacles curl and writhe against his skin as it grinds itself against him forcefully. It briefly fantasizes about what it would be like if Mark was awake -- the thrust of his hips bucking upwards into it and the tight grip of his hands on its hips as he whines needily.

"Mhhn, mmf," Mark interrupts its fantasy by making a pathetic little whimper as his legs twitch, desperate for pleasure he can't quite reach.

The alternate giggles, setting its hands on his chest as it lifts its hips, then brings them down again. It finds a slow, casual rhythm as it rides him, letting Mark's moans and whines guide its movements. When he seems satisfied, it picks up the pace, slamming itself down onto him with more force and speed. It feels so good to have his cock buried so deep inside itself while he's completely at its mercy, feeling the shape of him each time he's pressed against its inner walls. Mark's moans become slightly louder and breathier with each increase in speed and intensity, and it sends the alternate into a frenzy. It needs him closer, deeper, anything to hear more of his precious symphony of pleasure. Eventually the alternate allows its legs to bend and crack, taking a new, horribly inhuman shape that makes it easier to thrust itself onto him with more ferocity.

It pins his body down with its claws as it slams its cunt unto the hilt of his cock relentlessly, its tentacles pressing against his pelvis with each thrust. Mark's moans become drawn-out wails, joining the cacophony of the creaking bed frame, the squelch and slap of their hips meeting, and the alternate's low, distorted snarling. Slick splatters onto Mark's pelvis and balls from the force of its assault, and beads of sweat catch the light of the camera's flash when it washes over his skin. The alternate pants like an animal, long tongue weaving through the air between a sharp maw of unnaturally bone-white teeth and dripping drool onto Mark's slack face. They're both close, it can feel itself reaching its release, and it knows that Mark will follow soon after.

"Ahhhhh, hahhh, ah!" Mark lows breathlessly, and the alternate feels his release coat its insides with warm semen. Its pace stutters in surprise -- he came a small bit earlier than it expected -- but it simply redirects its plans. It allows itself to reach its climax in tandem, taking him within itself fully and clenching its walls around him. Its claspers latch onto his hips and keep their pelvises locked together, ensuring not a single drop of Mark's semen escape the alternate's cunt. As it rocks the unconscious man through his high, Mark's breathing evens out slowly, and he groans with a combination of exhaustion and pleasure.

"Ces'r... mhh," Mark mumbles, and the alternate gives a soft smile. That explains why he came sooner, he always did when he had particular wet dreams.

It focuses on collecting his cum within its body, not allowing a single drop to dribble out of its hole. It could be courteous to him tonight, and make sure there was little to nothing he would have to clean up the following day. Besides, it could put it to good use later, and it would be a shame to waste something so precious. It couldn't get enough of how he tastes...

Its face slides back into something more human, more 'Cesar' as Mark grows soft inside of it, coming down from his orgasm. He grumbles something in his sleep, and yawns so sweetly that the alternate can't help but make the camera zoom in on his face. His face is soft, free of the tense furrow of his brow or the paranoia painting his expression when he's awake. Here, with it, he is calm and content.

The way he should be, its mind purrs, the way he will always be, when he accepts me as his.

After tonight, he would be unable to deny how much he loves it. He would have to see that ultimately, he is better off accepting the alternate as his lover. There's no reason for him not to.

Is that really true, or are you just unable to face reality? A voice hisses in the back of its mind. The alternate grimaces as it extinguishes the thought. It's been good to Mark, and he will understand that. Even if it takes time for him to get used to the idea, he would see reason and choose it. He has to.

I don't know what I'll do if he doesn't.

"Mph," Mark pouts in his sleep, nuzzling his cheek against his pillow.

The alternate's face smooths out instantly at the sound. "Hmm... cute," it murmurs, leaning in to give his face a gentle peck. Its lamb always knows exactly how to bring its attention back to him. It retracts its claspers from his hips and pulls out, letting his soft cock finally slip out of its cunt. It's time to move on, time for one last game to end the night.

The alternate turns him onto his side, then lays him down onto his stomach, adjusting his limbs into a comfortable position and maneuvering his head to lay on his pillow. It gropes his ass with each hand greedily, taking its sweet time as it squeezes the luxuriously soft flesh and spreading his cheeks until his hole is exposed. As it presses its hips forwards to grind against his ass, it manifests three slender tentacles out of its sheath -- each as thin as a pencil and dripping with slick. It allows one to slip into Mark's hole, kneading his ass cheeks with bluntly clawed hands as the tentacle wriggles through the ring of muscle. Mark whines, limp hands loosely forming weak fists, just barely gathering his sheets into his grasp. A second and third follow close behind, each entering with little resistance as they lightly stretch his rim.

They slither deeper and deeper inside him, gently scissoring him open and coating his insides with slick as they go deeper. Soon, it adds a fourth, dragging each tendril in and out of his hole as it pries his entrance open wider bit by bit. With each rub against his rim and prostate, Mark's dick twitches as the pleasure coaxes him back to hardness, and he whimpers helplessly as his hole is teased.

"C'sar," he huffs, hands and feet twitching impatiently. If he was awake he would be fidgeting; but in his sleep it's just spastic, mindless movements. Unable to sit still, so desperate to be filled and fucked and bred.

The alternate knows he wants, no, needs it inside him. He's ready to take it.