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Spamton had been living with you for about a month now, and he was actually not that bad a roommate.
You met him about a year ago, when a blockage by some construction in your usual walk home from work made you change routes. The puppet jumped out of a dumpster and tried to strike a deal with you for something you really didn’t understand. You didn’t want to get mugged or lose a kidney, so you turned him down and quickly ran away.
The next day the construction, unsurprisingly, was still there, so you had to go down the same alley again, hoping he would be gone by now, but no such luck. He was advertising some kind of “keygen” which sounded a lot like something that would hack into your bank account, so you turned him down again.
This continued for about a week, when you realized he was not going to stop until you made a deal (and you also realised it didn’t matter what kind of deal), so you proposed a counteroffer. You would take him out to eat if he did not talk about any other deals for the duration of the hangout. He accepted immediately, the guy probably didn’t get to eat proper meals much.
It turns out, he was not that bad when you got him to talk about normal things.
So you started inviting him to hang out while eating, and then just to hang out. You slowly became friends with him, and even though he still offered you deals from time to time, you could tell he also liked spending time with you.
Problem was, he still lived in a dumpster. You felt a pang of pity in your heart whenever you had to seek him out at his “home”. Your bleeding heart showed once again.
It had been around half a year since meeting him when you offered to let him crash on your couch, but sadly Spamton refused. He felt there was a catch, he would be indebted to you, and god knows what you would make him do then.
You continued your usual routine, but the offer was still available. He always said no, but you felt you were making slow progress as time passed.
One day, you came up with an idea. You told him the same as always, that he could come live with you and sleep on your couch, but he would have to help out and do chores. Spamton finally accepted. It was an equivalent exchange.
The puppet moved in with you that same day, it wasn’t like he had many belongings he had to take from one place to the other. You forced Spamton to take a bath, and you washed his clothes, putting the washing machine in the lowest setting so they wouldn’t immediately disintegrate.
And that is how you started living together, you went to work and fed him, and in return Spamton did things like cooking and cleaning. If you were to be asked, you would answer that you honestly liked his company. Finally someone to fill up the empty air of your home.
---
Spamton was actually happy. You offered him a place to live, and the only thing he had to do was basic cleaning. He wasn’t even confined to the house and he could leave whenever he wanted, you had even given him a key!
He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop though, but it never came.
Today he had been feeling weird, the temperature was always too hot, and adjusting the air conditioner didn’t do anything. Spamton felt too dizzy, and was too distracted to do anything around the house, failing to even put the dishes in the dishwasher.
Out of the blue he got a sudden urge to go to your room, and he rationalized that he could take a nap in your bed, and once he woke up he would feel better. He climbed up the bed and laid limp, but the feeling only got worse.
He tried different positions, hoping it would help, but it did nothing. At the end, the puppet ended up face down, with his nose in your pillow.
It smelt comforting, your musk still clinging to it from the night before, and it overwhelmed his senses. This was a safe place, and you would return and take care of him, making him feel better. His tentacle started squirming in his pants at the thought of you coming back and seeing him in the nest, surrounded by your scent, and-
Wait, nest?!
He snapped back to reality, and the first thing he noticed was that he had unconsciously arranged the blankets and pillows around himself in a shape that was undoubtedly a nest. Oh no, no no no no no-
Spamton was in heat.
What? How?! He thought he got rid of that instinct. In all his years in the dumpster the need hadn’t appeared once. He thought he finally got rid of those baser instincts, the need to mate. There hadn’t been anyone, and even if there had been, it simply wouldn’t be wise to get pregnant while living on the streets.
But recently that changed… You had taken him in, fed him, and made him feel safe. Apparently it was enough to trigger… this.
You couldn’t find him like this! What would you think of him?! Would you be disgusted? Would you kick him out?
It was difficult concentrating on those thoughts as a new wave of arousal overtook the puppet. All he could think of is how he was getting too warm under the collar, and he had too many clothes on. Spamton took them off, all while thinking how you would come in later, and he could not wait for you to put your hands on him and mark him as yours. He wanted you to make him yours, breeding him so thoroughly it would show who he belonged to, making it obvious for anyone who laid their eyes on him.
Spamton took the pillow that started it all and placed it in between his legs. He balled his fists in the blankets while he humped your pillow, moaning all the while. It felt heavenly, but it was torture, feeling so good in the nest he made him and you while you were absent, not being able to give him what he needed so badly, and he couldn’t help the whine that escaped his mouth.
---
“Spamton! I’m home!” You entered the apartment. But the puppet was nowhere to be found.
At this time of day Spamton would usually be watching television and lounging on the couch, sometimes even with a pack of chips. But he wasn’t there, and he wasn’t anywhere else in the main living space.
You raised an eyebrow, a little worried. Spamton wasn’t chained to your home, obviously, he could go out whenever, it was just that he usually wouldn’t.
That was when you noticed strange sounds coming from your bedroom, somewhat muffled by the door, which was half open.
Curiosity piqued, you approached and slowly opened the door, not wanting to interrupt whatever Spamton was doing.
The puppet was curled in your bed, completely naked inside a nest of blankets.
Oh.
He hadn’t noticed you, so he continued humping your pillow, tentacle completely out and smearing it with a sticky substance. All the while making high pitched sounds, not even bothering to muffle them.
You took a step towards the bed, the thud of your shoes startling him. He stopped his movements and slowly turned his head towards you. Fuck, he looked at you with half lidded eyes, tonge out and hair messy (some sticking to his sweaty forehead) and you felt your pants tightening.
“Uh… Spamton? Are you okay?” You stared at him uncertainly, a little worried at his state.
He stared back, and then sluggishly responded with a “[Please],” shaking his ass at you, trying to incite you to take the bait.
You bit your lip and moved forward, but stopped at the bedside, not daring to get closer. Your nose caught a sweet scent emanating from the puppet, who tried reaching out. Before he could reach you, you grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
“Spamton, I need you to tell me what is going on. Is it a virus?” You shakily let out. That would explain the unexpected actions. Spamton would not be like this if he was in his right mind.
“IT- ITS- ITS THE [Summer Heat]. PLEASE- [Esteemed guest!] I NEED Y0U!!” He let out a whine, followed by that sweet smell.
You gulped, on one hand, Spamton was not thinking clearly, but on the other, your head was getting fuzzy and it was getting harder not to just pounce on the puppet. To surrender to your instincts. Until you finally snapped.
You frantically took off your clothes, and pumped your dick a few times, fully hard and pulsing with anticipation. Spamton removed the pillow from underneath him, instead resting his head in the side without his slick, while you climbed on the mattress and positioned yourself behind him.
He parted his legs when you spread him, taking a peek at what was to come, shaking with anticipation.
Underneath him, his tentacle was trashing erratically, desperate for any kind of stimulation, but your eyes were only on the slit beneath it. It was puffy and dripping with slick, almost drooling from how much was leaking.
And without a warning you draped your tongue over it. Spamton tried to grind into the sensation, confused at why you hadn’t plunged your dick inside him. You grabbed his hips so he couldn’t move them. He was no longer in control, you were.
Your tongue started lapping up his slick, tasting him, which was only driving you crazier, stopping only so you could slip it inside his hole. He clenched around you, trying to get you to go deeper, and deeper you went.
Meanwhile, Spamton was on cloud nine. Every touch feeling like fire on his plastic skin. But he was an impatient man, he wanted to get fucked, not for you to tease and toy with him, but you made it clear he would have to wait to get it.
He felt the coil in his stomach getting tighter, and as it was about to spring, you removed your tongue.
“[Don’t stop me now]! 1! [Angel]!” He yelled frustrated. Why, why did you stop?! Couldn’t he get anything?!
You could only chuckle as you saw how the puppet, who was already red as a tomato, started blowing steam from his non-existent ears.
You patted at his ass, “Now, now, I am in charge right now, and that means you gotta do what I want like a good little bitch. You were the one who begged me to touch you, weren’t you?” You tightened your hand, “And I can always punish you if you are not on your best behavior.”
That got him to shut up fast, borrowing his head in the pillow.
“So, Spammy, will you be a good bitch for me?” You said smirking.
Spamton could not believe this, he wasn’t some common whore, how dare you talk to him like that! He tried to ignore how the degrading words made a drop of precum slip from his dick.
“I said,” You swatted at his left cheek, “will you be a good little bitch?” You striked the right one.
The puppet couldn’t help but yelp, stinging sensation staying even when you massaged the spot. He couldn’t deny any longer how hot the degradation felt, his state maximising every sensation.
You raised your hand again, and he quickly responded, “YE- YESS 1 AM YOUR [Female Dog]!!!!!” You spanked him again.
“That is not what I asked. If you can’t be good you will get no reward, Spammy.”
“ILL B3 GOOD! please” Tears were falling down his face at this point.
“See? You can be good.” You patted his oversensitive bottom.
You were harder than ever in your life, your dick hurt just seeing the man spread out underneath you, both his pussy and cock leaking a stream of clear liquid. It was hot seeing him so… submissive.
So you lined yourself up and entered him with a slap of hips.
Spamton screamed.
You immediately set a punishing pace, not allowing him even a moment to adjust and he moaned as your cock rubbed against his cervix. You felt as he envolved you completely, and leaned against his back. You pressed a kiss at his neck, a small warning before biting him hard, marking him as yours and only yours. You were going to breed him, fuck him into the nest so hard he would not be able to walk for days.
“Y- you will look so good… all round with my babies!” You were just babbling now, not aware of what you were saying, “You’ll have to stay at home, not being able to walk much. A- and when I come home from work I’ll fuck you all over again.”
He imagined, what it would be like for you to fuck him everyday when you came back from work.
“And you know what? You could be like my wife; I mean, you already take care of the home.” You set your hand in his stomach.
He could be a perfect little breeding machine, and in his heat that seemed like the only thing he wanted. You grabbed his dick and with a few pumps he came with a loud chirp, bluish liquid gushing from his tentacle and slumping. But you didn’t stop, no, you weren’t done.
The drag of your dick against his insides was too much for his overstimulated mind, and he couldn’t do anything but moan as you quickened your pace, also close to your peak.
“Take it take it take it-” You came with a shout, burying deep inside Spamton’s warmth, seed coming out in spurts and feeling his stomach distend against your hand.
You pulled out, cock twitching as you caught sight of the fucked out puppet, cum dripping between his legs, face content.
Honestly, you were too tired to worry about being gross, so you just throwed yourself against the bed and snuggled close to the puppet. You could both worry about hygiene and the consequence of your actions in the morning.