The clown's hips smacked against the girl's ass hard enough to bruise the pale skin purple, the thorns digging so deep into her insides they came out shining red when he dragged himself back. Her voice was gone, throat wrecked from all the screaming, and now it was only a horrible rasp, a broken cry every time he slammed into her, each thrust sounding like meat being torn open. Her body had already gone limp beneath him, her fingernails bloody stubs against the rock, her legs trembling once in a while before they just twitched helplessly.
And he still wasn't done.
The Lustrix howled in Aaron's head like a church bell smashing against his skull. Breed. Spill. Flood her. Give her what she was taken for. The pressure built inside the clown's cock, veins pulsing, glowing harder with every brutal shove until the walls of the cave looked like they were lit by hellfire.
Then it burst.
Thick, steaming cum exploded into her shredded pussy, jet after jet pumping deep inside her, coating what was left of her womb in a flood of glowing white slime. It poured out of her instantly, leaking down her thighs, mixing with the blood and pooling under her limp body. The thorns swelled slightly, locking him in place as he kept unloading, not just filling but drowning her from the inside out.
Her stomach swelled, twitching with every pulse of his cock. Her broken voice cracked into a gargling sob, bubbles of spit spilling from her mouth as her body convulsed under the sheer pressure of it. Cum sprayed out around his cock with each twitch of his hips, splattering the dirt, running down her ass.
But Aaron wasn't even there. Not really.
The Lustrix wrapped his mind in a dream, soft and sweet and sick.
In the dream, he wasn't in the cave at all. He was standing under a massive striped circus tent, lights glowing gold and red, music playing from an organ. The camper girl wasn't broken and bleeding — she was up on the stage as a performer, smiling brightly, twirling under the spotlight, her laughter ringing out over the crowd. The applause was warm and endless, and every time she laughed it wrapped around Aaron's head like a caress.
Every sob in reality was twisted into those giggles on stage. Every gurgling scream warped into her singing voice. Every wet slap of the clown's cock in her body was muffled into the sound of drums and cymbals.
Her voice in the dream was sweet and playful, calling out from the ring: "Come on, Aaron~! Watch me! I'm performing just for you~!"
He groaned, lost in the fake warmth of it, bells on his body jingling to the rhythm as he humped harder in the real world. Her real body shook violently with each thrust, cum spilling out in messy waves, blood mixing in streams, but in his head it was confetti falling, spotlights spinning, and her laughter filling the tent.
The alien woman in the corner twitched, foam spilling from her lips as she watched, her broken body reliving every horror. She could hear the truth — the wet tearing, the guttural sobs, the splatter of cum and blood. But Aaron only saw the fake circus, only heard the cheers.
He emptied himself inside the camper until it overflowed, his glowing seed spurting out around his cock in messy strings, dripping down her gaped, ruined hole onto the stone floor. Her belly bulged unnaturally, convulsing with every hot wave that forced its way into her. The thorns scraped her raw insides until she started seizing, her body jerking violently beneath him. Her eyes rolled back, white foam bubbling from her lips.
In the dream, she took a bow, twirling her skirt, blowing kisses at the crowd. "Aaron~! Aren't you proud of me? I'm your star, I'm only yours~!"
In reality, her head lolled sideways into the dirt, eyes blank, mouth still bubbling with foam as the last faint gasps slipped from her lungs.
The Lustrix purred in his skull as the last gush of cum forced its way into her broken womb. Successful. Subject bred.
The clown slowly pulled free, the thorns dragging bloodied flesh with them. A rush of glowing cum gushed out behind him, pouring from her destroyed pussy in a flood, splattering down her thighs and staining the stone. Her ass twitched once, then went still.
Aaron's eyes fluttered open as the dream dissolved. The warm circus lights blinked out, the girl's laughter faded, and the real cave came crashing back into focus — the ruined camper girl's body limp and twitching in the filth, blood and glowing cum puddling beneath her, the smell of iron and rot choking the air.
The fake sound of applause still echoed faintly in his ears, even though her mouth was slack, jaw hanging open. He stumbled back, the clown's cock shrinking as the form flickered. His stomach turned. He wanted to scream but nothing came out.
The Lustrix whispered again, quieter now but still sharp, drilling into his skull. Pleasure is the mask. Purpose is the seed.
Aaron dropped to his knees, hands shaking as he stared at what he'd done — what he was.
And still, the girl's broken body twitched one last time, like her nerves were still firing even though her soul was long gone.