The outlander writhes inside its glass confine, a plenty of blackness so dark Agnes can make the configuration of its tentacles only when they pull away from its body, contrasting against the blunt White person of the lab wall. It's fluid in a manner that can not be understood by any man outside the few dozen in this ship, the physics of its movements are so distant from anything seen in Earth. Despite the malleability of its signifier, however, its strength - measured by their crack equipment - is zippo suddenly of mind boggling. The creature's home major planet has twice the pulling of gravity as terra firma, and its ocean is around 20 multiplication as mysterious. The sun it orbits is far, minor and ruddy. The major planet would be a wasteland of frozen lifelessness if not for the star-hot Congress of Racial Equality warming it from within.

It was in the depts of the hostile sea that covers planet SG-58231 that it was found. Though found is not the right wing word to describe what happened. Agnes was there, the one, lucky intern in National Aeronautics and Space Administration's most coveted crew, the crowd that gets to flora an American English pin in new worlds, unveils environments never before seen or touched by human beings, plan and executes the initial research necessary before anything found is deemed safe enough to be shipped back to Earth for further interrogation.

They entered the planet's atmosphere after extensive surveillance, hoping to gather a sizeable sample of piddle - the small ones, collected by automobile, had come back perfectly potable. Earth water. The ship shone a light over the heavy aerofoil of the black sea, made only as much contact with the water as necessary. It was then that the alien rose to meet the humans, tentacles swaying along with the current in such way that it took the ship's equipment blaring monition for the crew to discover it. The animate being allowed itself to be hoisted up, put into one container, a tankful, then another, a field glass batting cage in the form of a pocket-size room. It shrunk to better fit the entrapment of the ship, as if it could understand the pauperism to share blank space with the humans. Agnes was fascinated by it from the first second her optic landed on its clearly living, moving, froward form. She glued herself to the back of the drumhead scientist, Dr. Sir Alexander Mackenzie, curious and greedy for any chance to learn the creature, to interpret it.

There's a full glass wall in the foreigner's room. Often, in those first couple of hebdomad, a dozen of people could be seen standing by it, watching the wight's slow, languid drive in nothing curtly of disbelief. This is, after all, the first multi-cellular, living organism found outside of Earth, even after centuries of persistent search. However, all trinket loses its shine as Day turn into calendar week and weeks turn into months. 243 days after the finding, as the ship is barely a workweek away from house, and Agnes is the lone one who can be consistently found in front of these glass walls.

If she has annotated its movements, its climate, its tendency in both paper and her mind, that's only her job. The creature eats through osmosis, and she could swear she notices a stiletto heel in natural action when its environment is charged with the micro-organism it ingests. The alien splashes, swims, behaves. As if it feels. As their schedule is consistent, Agnes made certainly to annotate that the brute is intelligent enough to anticipate the times it is supposed to receive alimentation. Like any fauna that walks the Earth, it knows food for thought, can be driven by it.

If Agnes starts to look up to it as he, in her mind, no one would be too put off by it. That's her job, after all. To watch the creature as closely as humanly possible, to observe and transmit each of its behavioral idiosyncrasies. For calendar month and months, she has done so. Faithfully, to her best ability. Eventually, his mysterious, obsidian tentacles creeped into her pipe dream. There, she could sense them against her skin, so impossibly smoothen and yet, hard, unyielding. Fuzzy computer memory of said dreams made her nerve flush during the day. For the for the first time time in her 5-years deployment, she missed the opportunity of closeness. Of line, as a Virgo so shy it can be described as borderline debilitating social-anxiety, Agnes couldn't really bang what she was missing. Yet, she still missed it.

It is a strange evening, 56 60 minutes before they reach ground's atmosphere, that Agnes realizes something. This beast, he, is the first complex, life-form ever found. Sure, he didn't respond to any of the many sentiency and intelligence activity tests the crew tried to deal out, but, how could he ? When he came from a world of relentless storms, impenetrable darkness, strong-growing and ever-present tactile entropy ? prophylactic measures dictated no head contact could be made with him, so all of the test were given through the looking glass, using intellectual nourishment. Weak and inconclusive. Couldn't the beast be proven intelligent, if only it were allowed to use the resole sense it seems to have ?

Agnes'heart is beating in her throat as she punches in medico Mackenzie's code. houseman go unnoticed so easily, she knows all the computer code, all the accesses, and as much as she has used them to gather information before, the main crew never noticed. In her hands, she takes only a low sheath of the creature's favored food for thought. A gift, she hopes. Truthfully, this is insanity, and she knows it. But Agnes has dreamed of the starts ever since she was old enough to corroborate her neck and take care up at the sky. She has made up story about extraterrestrial and astronauts, about mankind conquering the world. It's her great desire, her whole animation. Is it really so out of the kingdom of opening that somebody such as her would walk into a glassful cage with an noncitizen ? How could she not ?

*

It awakes as if from an eon-long slumber, long limbs tasting the water in the tank, creeping out to experience the air in the room. Sensitive nerve-endings pick up on trembling, not quite sound, but as close as tactile receptors can get. Steps, the homo way of moving. There are particles of food in the air, it can feel them. It splashes lazily as it waits, luxuriates in the meal when the human deposits it in its tankful. They have never been so shut down before, however. It's curious, the air mouthful like something it should bed. warmness, softness, fertility rate. Of course, it knows what to do. In uncongenial environments, life subsists. In welcoming ones, it reproduces.

*

The threshold to the enclosure snapshot locked at Agnes'first scream. It's a protection bill, she knows. It's there for a reason, that being noncitizen can be fairly unpredictable. The system of rules assumes at any distress signal that the foreign life-form in the ship must be contained. It also blares an alert, deafening, evident. Agnes knows the whole crew will be on the other side of the crank in moments.

The creature has enveloped her in a thick, sinister tentacle, picked her up as if her weight is paltry. She notices, even as scourge freezes her limbs, that his surface is not smooth, but littered with patterned bulge that somehow couldn't be seen, but are keenly felt. Not that it's rough, on the reverse. The tentacle holding her is slick with gook, softened by a life in the H2O. Even then, Agnes can't escape. She wriggles and thrashes, pushes the limb away and grunts with the effort. The brute simply adds a second tentacle to the ravishment, holding her peg in place.

"Agnes !"The part of the head scientist, physician Mackenzie, reaches her through the intercom."Agnes, what the netherworld is going on ?"

Panic seems to freeze the pedigree in her vena. Her career is over, Agnes knows. She might die in the hands… well, limbs of this animate being, but even if she survives, she won't be allowed in a spaceship ever again. The realization is so, so crushing it takes her a moment to notice that the alien isn't ripping her to pieces or bashing her against the walls. He doesn't even pull her into his tank, where she would drown in min. For a import in time, he just holds her, strong, huge and imposing, but gentle. As if he understands how easily she could be broken by him.

"I'm sorry."Is all she can bring herself to emit to her confrere. She hears their footmark as a bunch anatomy behind the glass. The alien envelops her with a third, smaller tentacle, this one slithers against her neck opening."I'm so sorry."Agnes whine, terrified, when a black limb closes around her throat.

But there's no pressure, she can still breathe. Agnes stares at the tidy sum of darkness that is the creature's consistence and, for the first-class honours degree time, wishes it had a face. What wouldn't she give to be able to read emotions off of it ? To have an inkling of what's next ? But the entirely hint are to be found in his handling of her, suspended in the air, a ragdoll for him to play with.

"How did this happen ?"The Doctor asks, speaking through the intercom.

"Mmmh-mmm"She manages to moan out through the tentacle covering her backtalk. What the MD doesn't say, Agnes already knows : no one is coming to deliver her.

The hazard of contamination is too bang-up. The ship is too close to Earth, they need to land, refuel, recharge. Who knows what pathogens the creature is carrying ? An alien virus unleashed could decimate the world's universe in Clarence Shepard Day Jr.. And his slime is all over Agnes now, staining her lab pelage, saturating her dress.

His tentacles are all over her body, they don't stop moving. Smaller tentacles writhe all over her hide, go under her tshirt and a few of them disappear behind her jeans waist and research her lower body as Agnes shudders with the look of alien flesh caressing all over her bottom office of the body. Agnes tries to wiggle her articulatio coxae but that does not assist at all to get free from the tentacles exploring her meaty ass.

The tencasles are searching she knows not what for, the single on her legs pull and push at her jean, as if he knows the cloth isn't a parting of her, but an obstacle. He traces the curve of her seat above her Negroid skintight jeans, squeezes her bottom, one tentacle squeezes her right between her buttocks.

The alien creature definitely finds extra pastime in her jiggly ass. Some of the tentacles hook onto the waistband of her dungaree, and Agnes 's essence looses a cadence when the tentacles start pulling her jeans down.

Nervouosly glancing at a crew of scientists behind the methamphetamine hydrochloride wall, Agnes tries to protest but the tentacle covering her mouth does not let any sound, Agnes tries to grab her jeans waist but her arms are tightly secured by the creature. Only option she has left is to find as the blue jean are being pulled down. Her duncish meaty ass becomes somewhat a barrier for the jeans waist to slide down below her ass, but the beast still .manages to do it. Agnes gulps in humuliation as under watching of a crowd of people her nude buttcheeks pop out of the jeans waist, being separated only by a thin opprobrious funnies of her thong.

This has to be a nightmare, Agnes thinks. The extraterrestrial being successfully bares her, ass first, to the dozens of colleagues watching her plight through the shabu. Agnes closes her oculus tightly, a feeling of irreality warring with arrant, complete mortification inside of her.

Agnes savored the moment when person else could see her body naked, she waited for someone exceptional so that she could allow such an event, but now she is being held pant-less, with her big ass bared in front of all the masses she near admires, and she ca n't even spread over herself.

extraterrestrial being tentacles writhe all over her meaty ass, get-up-and-go and root for it apart and fondle it, being fascinated by how it responds and jiggles. Well the creature is not the only one fascinated by this sight. Growing impatient, the animal proceess to explore her body.

The creature rips her white tank top in half with a single swoop of a large tentacle, bursting her breasts out and her little teat jiggle out for all to see. Agnes opens her eyes, forces herself to await back at the faces of the go the great unwashed she is in all probability to ever be around. Tears slide down her face, hot and heavy with sorrow.

Shame burns bright in her arse cheeks with fervidness, as her face is red from embarrasment, even as she's so overwhelmed by fear that she may go into shock. They all see her, faces varying shades of horror, apprehension, and pity. The humiliation hurts the most.

The alien proceess with one component part of her vesture left on her - her humble and unsubdivided pitch-dark thing.

Slow but firm, like a strict, jazz parent, the fauna pulls the lash down her legs and throws it away.

When she's completely bared to the noncitizen and to her co-worker, her neatly shaved pubes are for all to see. Agnes just compliments resignation, followed by death, is shut down. Hope has been smothered ; she just wants it to be over.

To her perpetual shame, however, it has only started.

*

Doctor of the Church Mackenzie has a scientific mind. He has to, or he wouldn't have achieved the attitude he's at. His anteriority are light and absolute, he's the variety of man who has no job following them. On the obstinate, zilch gives him as much satisfaction as reaching his goal, fulfilling his life-long dream.

Except, however, the curse - in his public opinion - that follows all men. A distraction-inducing, pestiferous, ever-present draw to women. In that, he's as normal as they come. double of pretty, untested fille are what he jerks off to in his bunk. Nothing too out-of-the-ordinary, really. Intercourse is proscribed during ocean trip for many hardheaded reasons, but back on dry land he's more than happy to carry through his desires with the periodic claw up. Here, he uses his genial cannon fodder. Occasionally, though he feels vaguely shamefaced about it, he even thinks of his many athletic, new, female confrere as he masturbates.

If the lady friend currently being assaulted by a huge unknown is often part of his chosen phantasy, no one but him knows. Her pose ass is a delight to respect casual during oeuvre, and he makes sure enough that his attention goes unnoticed. Though the MD can't quite believe what he's eyesight. First, that such intelligent young womanhood would be as reckless and dumb as to enter the enclosure by herself. bit, that there's undeniable, glaring design to the creature's actions. It has divested the girl of clothes completely, but not harmed her so far. Its inglorious tentacles slide, probe and explore her expanse of house, smooth cutis, as if looking for something.

As unbelievable as this whole situation is, the MD is envious. Of an alien. Agnes is… her petiteness matched with wide rosehip and big meaty ass is endearing, animal, lights up a key part of his learning ability that wants to envelop her, protect her, maintain her devour and fuck her until she can't walk. Her face is the very definition of prettiness. It lawsuit her shy nature perfectly, her eyes aren't sultry, there are no suggestive bloodline to the angle in her case. She's charming, attractive in an inexperienced person way, exactly the sort of girl an old man like him is the most drawn to, maybe because he would be so harshly judged if he acted on it. kickshaw, feminine, she looks like somebody's girl, sister, the pretty girl-next-door everyone treats with forgivingness, for she simply inspires that in people.

Strikingly, he can't assist but placard once again what a great ass she has. Always hidden behind her lab coating before, only sometimes he was capable to glance at her, usually black blue jean those hugged her meaty ass. Or there were sportsman events, those he cherised alot, because Agnes worn the standart issue NASA mutation boyshorts, those for some intellect were a sizing pocket-size that she needed, tightly following her curves and leaving all of it to be seen.

The doctor now sees it bare in the material body as it's groped by a large tentacle, its firmness tested with rubbing, squeeze, slapping. fuck, he curses to himself. Her ass is big enough it jiggles at the force applied, not too large as to be disproportional to her diminished eubstance, but as gorgeous and plenteous as it can be otherwise.

The brute runs a few tentacles between her naked ass brass, pulls her meaty globes apart, opening up what was hidden between them, and the Doctor of the Church's knees go week, his head word feels fuzzy. Agnes whimpers pathetically when she feels her ass pulled apart and her most intimate parts, those she hoped to keep arcanum from all, becomes revealed to a crowd of people. Seeing Agnes force-undressed, crying humiliated and terrified, her ass spread and her butthole and cunt on display to a gang of people, the Doctor tries hard not grab his throbbing hard cock. He has never been Thomas More aroused in his life.

Everyone is drained silent. There are no words for this. If he could deplumate his eyes away from the naked trunk of the girl being molested in front of him, Doctor Sir Alexander Mackenzie would see he isn't the only one whose feelings of scourge have changed to lust. The brute is not hurting the youth woman. It is… playing with her. Even through the haze of overwhelming lecherousness, the doc can recognize what an unbelievable occurrent this is. Agnes is turned around and around by the savage, her butt and breasts jiggle delighfully arousing the doctor even more, every inch of her cutis is touched and tested by one of a dozen of tentacles.

At one point, she's poised with her back to the glass wall, her ramification banquet to about the width of her shoulders. The stranger almost able to translate her humilation and wants to increase it even more.

It slowly but firmly bends her knees as it also bends her forward, folding her in half, providing a marvelous scene of her huge ass globes parting and revealing everything once again to the whole crew of scientists.

The Doctor can see the tiny star of her arse, her minuscule slit under it. She's so close that he can watch see how her butthole muscle spasm from fear, the muscle in the surface area tightening. He leans against the chicken feed, overcome with lustfulness. A part of him craves to see the alien go further, press a long, prominent tentacle against one of Agnes'holes and button in. Is he a bad man for it ? He wonders.

That's a pointless inquiry, he tells himself. There's naught he can do to aid her, whatever comes next isn't on him. If he happens to delight it, there's no injury in that.

*

Something old and primal drives it. trench, unknowable. Its kind survives, yes, but they can reproduce as well, under the right conditions. It holds in its tentacles the perfect, right circumstance. If only it can fill her up. give her, probe her inside, leave behind the source needed to defecate more than of itself. The hole on top seems wrong, it tests that and finds acuity there. Hostile, no. Under, between soft thighs, there's such warmth, such tricky smoothness. Exactly what it likes. But it searches and hunt, probe and pokes. The wetness must come from somewhere, it understands sufficiency to have intercourse this is the fiddling fauna's reproductive reed organ. But its mating tentacle is way oversized for this small orifice, and despite the welcoming warmth and wetness, an entrance to her eubstance can't be found there.

Agnes clench as tightly as she can when she feels tentacles touching her there, she remembers reading about women who can contract their vaginal muscles so hard they can only be penetrated if they allow it, and so she focuses on that and tries not to panic even as the creature keeps rubbing her clit by mistake, and oh- why does it feel so trade good ? No, no, not there, please- fuck, it feels, no-

The smaller tentacles continue looking for a suitable opening just near the wetness. But there it is, just a piffling back, unmistakable. The creature would squeal with happiness if it could. It finds an entranceway, warm, smooth, very much tighter, not quite as slick, but that can be fixed. The piffling human thrashes violently in its hold, but a couple more tentacles hold her in place easily as it explores that tiny hole, closed up by a annulus of muscles that must be pushed open. It uses the very tip of its belittled tentacle first to inquire, spreading its goo there, testing the underground.

The hefty ring is resisting penetration even of the minuscule tentacle that is about the size of it of a pinky finger. As the tentacle gently pops inside, it feels the vibrations as the human opens her sassing, and produces auditory sensation. The minuscule tool is clearly in panic. It doesn't charge. All that subject is how utterly warm this little being feels inside. With the tip of a tentacle breaching that welcoming unharmed, the alien now knows its purpose perfectly. Fill her up, as deep as possible, take up vantage of all her soft, hot inside. It gets to it, gleefully.

*

stranger ticker more slime into that porta and lubes everything in and out, hastly proceeds to switch to his mating tentacle, positioning it for penetration right wing between her buttcheeks, targeting her pixilated butthole. It starts to push, first base slowly and gently. Still, more quivering come out from the creature out of the pickle with sharp things. The alien ignores that and is completely engulfed by the cognitive process.

The tight mesomorphic entrance is not yielding despite all the lubrication, because of the size of it of its coupling tentacle. The alien wonders why it is so, all his prior experience and research of this fauna suggests that the penetration should happen easier, but for some reason this orifice is so fend. A raving mad thought process of a fault appeared in his judgement, what if this orifice is not suited for his mating outgrowth, what if it is too small to accomodate the midst tentacle ? But these thoughts are overtaken by sheer primal lustfulness and animalistic desire to procreate, as the alien starts increasing the insistence, despite the incresing levelheaded vibrations from the puppet.

Still, the orifice is not giving way, and the stranger becomes impatient, starts applying Thomas More and more strength, with optical maser preciseness focused on the tight barrier.

*

The doctor's mouth is gaping in befuddlement, his cock throbbing to the musical rhythm of his warmheartedness, the alien's tentacle - which is chummy than his forearm - is starting to violate Agnes'ass. The girl is screaming, crying, clearly in pain in the neck and terrified. Why does that take a shit it hotter ? Why does that make it arduous for him to defy the urge to rub his erection ? He can't tear his eyes away. Even scream so pretty. It's her mistake, it has to be…

'' Mhmmm-ahhh '' are the only sounds Agnes can create, her mouth being held shut tightly by a tentacle. Tears rolling down her cheeks and her crimson thrashing provides more information than her moaning.

Agnes roar so tawdry that everyone watching is startled into taking a footmark away from the glassful. Her pretty, cute aspect is twisted in suffering, wet with tears, releasing loud and low, pained, desperate moan. The doctor scout in morbid fascination. The alien is trying to penetrate her anus. It wants to be inside of her, and it doesn't charge about the anatomical incompatibility. The pat drip from the tentacle is visible, plentiful. The tip is rounded and and the bulk of its thickness doesn't seem like it can go in. There is no way easing it in because of its shape, and her trunk hasnt gave in so far. The alien grows enraged with lust.

Two tentacles wrap around Agnes'arms, one around her clavicle, another around her waistline. With all of those holding her firmly in place, the alien forces the lady friend's tiny body down onto the tentacle trying to get across her. It works. She screams herself raw, the Doctor watches, fascinated, as an impossible amount of the length of the foreigner's tentacle disappears inside her body, at least 12 inches, he guesses. It must be pure agony. His chunk clench at the sight.

The creature begins thrusting in and out of her in a fast, punishing pace. Agnes battle cry out when it's in thick, and pitifully whine when it has pulled out. The Doctor leans against the glass again. Two minutes in, he comes in his pant like a adolescent, without touching himself at all, to the sight of his intern being raped by a non-humanoid, tentacled monster. Not even he can apologize that, if there's a God, it will be straight to hell for him.

might as well enjoy the show. The creature is not slowing down.

*

Agnes loses all good sense of prison term. All she knows is the drag of the puppet's cock in and out of her. Yes, it's some kind of phallus, of that her fracture brain is sure. She noticed it was spurting something thicker than the born, surface goop that coats the alien's skin. With each thrust, it fills her up with whatever gooey, extraneous liquidity it is. Her insides feel bruised, stretched to their limit, pumped full phase of the moon. She isn't sure she's homo anymore. Thinking has become impossibly knockout. There must be some sort of psychoactive in his fluids. Agnes knows she must be in electric shock, too overwhelmed to be logical, but there are early matter, 1 which are operose to explain.

Like, why is her pussy electrocution ? Dripping slick ? Why is she now clenching around the member impaling her, raping her, out of rousing ?

It hurtshurtshurtshurts-so honest, skilful, yes, oh, fu-fuck, detriment so good, so trench, why, deepinside-hurts-imma-oh, OH !

When she orgasms, it's like an out-of-body experience. So intense it can't be described. Her hale body seizes for what tone like hours, pleasure that borders on torturous, heightened somehow by the excruciation in her plundered loins. In its wake, a fully formed view pop in her mind.

testament there be an end ?

…

Do I want there to be ?

***

Please secern me what you think, what you think about the story. I would love to hear what you felt when reading this story.

1 ) Did you like the missy ?

2 ) How do you think she feels about these outcome later ?

3 ) How do you suppose did she deserve this ?

4 ) What would you like to see happen to her next ?

Please tell me :

5 ) what you liked the most ?

6 ) what you disliked ?

7 ) any suggestions to meliorate the story ?