Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Epilogue

Sahara woke slowly. Around her the quiet, unheard but felt presence of others. There were waves of purple and blue, and one russet- red tone. Waves of happiness, and the one lone ‘hungry’ voice meant that Violet and her son were awake.

She couldn’t move, of course. Os wrapped her tightly in his arms every night, as if binding her to him.

It was a good feeling.

She reached out to him with her feelings, the warmth and depth of her feelings towards him, towards all of them, really. He was quiescent, likely still dozing. She felt herself drifting back to sleep.


He’d shielded himself while she stirred. She was tired from these last weeks; learning to acclimate to his people was often draining on her. He supposed it would be hard, suddenly experiencing the flow of energies from all the personalities here.

Just wait until they arrived home. Best he help prepare her now.

She was soft and warm against him. Despite her lack of arms, she was very capable,  and as a sextoy, she was…very different. The tips of his tentacles tingled, thinking of the taste and scents of her.

The mouth noises she made as he penetrated her holes, especially if he filled all of them at the same time. He felt the waves of pleasure pouring from her when he held her down and brought her to orgasm. He loved the copious juices she leaked. His people did not mate in this way, and this self-lubrication was a wonder to him.

Several of his shipmates had approached him, enticed by the smells of her sexjuice. He would, at some point, decide whether he wanted to share her. It was their way, but at some point, her own feelings about sharing had imprinted on him.

While his people were not customarily life-bonded, he saw that it was tradition with her people. And yet, there was a core in her that showed she was open to some amount of sharing, as long as he remained her primary.

It was an interesting thing, to consider being life-bonded, especially to a bipedal.

She twitched in her sleep and shifted her legs, clenched and unclenched her fingers. The scent of warm, wet, flesh was drawn in by his sensitive tentacles, and he did some twitching of his own.

Slowly, he wrapped each of her ankles with his own arms, gently separating them. Another arm reached between her legs, and began gently stroking the folds there. The smell was intoxicating. The taste was tantalizing. The heat was inviting.

He slid inside her with a mental sigh. Her muscles clenched around him, once, hard, as he pushed pleasure waves at her. Her orgasm was almost instantaneous.

So, she had been sex-dreaming again. His inward smile was satisfied. He curled the tip of his tentacle, pressing it against that spot that was so sensitive. Again her hole squeezed him, again the rushing of wetness from her.

Using some of that wetness, he slipped a second tentacle into the tighter opening. She often resisted this when awake, yet he found this hole to be even tighter than her front hole.

Apparently her food-waste hold was something that she was embarrassed about. The concept of that was quite alien to him, did in face amuse him.

He pressed upward, driving straight inside her, while slowly entering and exiting the wetter front tunnel. She called it a cunt.

He called it delightful.

Slowly, gently he fucked into her hole, while holding his second tentacle immobile in her ass.

He knew she was awake now, wide awake, but feigning sleep. Let’s see how long she could maintain that posture, he thought wickedly.

Inside her pussy the tentacle twisted and writhed, while slowly fucking in and out of her.

He pressed deeper into her ass, pressing the wider part of his tentacle up through the tiny, tight opening. What a delicious feeling it was. He pressed the pleasure back towards where she lay, eyes closed.

Little beast, he thought with humor, you will not win this time, either.


She tried to remain still. She tried to ignore the incredible fullness of her lower body. She had cum half a dozen times, and could feel the waves of pleasure from him.

It only caused her to go nuclear in her response.

Her eyes flew open as she became ensnared in wave after wave of pleasure. She opened her mouth to moan, and another tentacle filled that hole.

She didn’t understand how he drew pleasure from her sucking it, but she did it anyway. He threw that sensation at her, too. She was swirling with pleasure, and the pain-pleasure of his fat tentacle in her ass only added to it.

It started as a tickle, but she clearly felt the  buzzing from his arms. It rapidly grew stronger.  He was throwing energy into her, his tentacles electrically stimming her. He hit the pleasure-pain threshold perfectly, and kept her there.

It was almost overwhelming, the buzzing. Her pussy clenched again in orgasmic delight, his tentacle pressing deeply into her throat.

Gagging while cumming should have sent her into paroxysms of panic, but it merely made the cumming even more intense. Soon, other tentacles were “buzzing”, tingling along her tits, her nipples, that sensitive spot just at the base of her spine.

He fucked every hole, discordant.

In one, out the other.

Gasping for a breath, yet needing to cry out as her ass was stretched, painfully stretched.

Cunt grasping and spasming again as he filled her, filled her.

And one last hard push into every hole, as she felt him pour his own juice into her. It was thick and sticky and hot. It oozed past his tentacle to drip down her leg, as gouts of his liquid streamed into her.

Her back arched, her blood sizzled, and she went rigid with the most intense orgasm of her life. She felt it in every pore, every molecule. Mind and body fully involved, she bore down hard with every internal muscle.

She felt his own soundless cry of pleasure, even as she drifted off into oblivion.

He cradled her tightly, this fragile being.

Held her close to his center, wrapping her in waves of sated joy.


In her sleep, she turned, moving deeper into the tangle of Uralian arms that held her, and grasped him tightly in her own two arms.


Together, they slept, entwined.