The Visitor (5)

warning: graphic tentacle sex today…oh. wait. You like that. Sorry…carry on! ~nilla~

She tossed, twisted. Her wrists were wrapped in something cold. Not slimy, not wet, but slick. She was reminded of snakes, and that curious musty slickness that their hide had. Thick coils from elbow to wrists encased her arms, holding her hands over her head as she lay helpless.

She hated feeling helpless.

Yet she was loving this. Maybe. She was confused. Her body bucked at another teasing stroke between her pussy lips. Was she awake or dreaming? It was like those medication dreams when she felt hot and cold, and couldn’t tell what was real and what was not.

Her breasts were wrapped too. Squeezed so hard she felt the discomfort of it clear down to her cunt. A tingle in her clit, which seemed strange, with every pulsing squeeze around her tits, around her nipples. It felt like they might pop, so hard were they wrapped, in that same slick coolness. What a stark contrast, the heat of pain wrapped in the chill of the beast that threatened to consume her.

Or threatened to overwhelm her with sex-need.

It was a raw feeling, to want so badly. It had not penetrated her, and she was frustrated by it.

Just fucking do it! she wanted to shout.

Or even, just fucking do me.

Instead, she felt the cold grasp around each ankle. Rather than tugging her feet wide apart, dropping her legs over the edges of her bed, they were pressed back until her knees strained at the intense bend, as her heels touched her ass.

And then the heavier coils wrapped around her knees, folded frog-like, until they fell open toward each hip with the weight of the tentacles tightening there.

She was open, exposed, and still he…it…whatever it was, hadn’t fucked her. Always before, in these sick dreams of hers, he’d plunged into her pussy, making her cum and writhe and beg and want. This time was different.

A tentacle began to explore her. She felt the pencil thin tip stroking along her lower lips, even as another brushed her mouth. That one slid into the bottom of her nostril, almost making her sneeze. She shook her head ‘no’, and it fell away for a moment, before pressing up, wriggling deeper.

Her heart hammered hard. She could not stand the feeling of this sort of invasion.

“No…” she moaned, and the thing, miraculously,  slid out of her nose, but quickly entered her mouth. No. It wasn’t the same one. This one had a bulbous head to it, reminding her of a cockhead. It was big, and there was a thick fluid, like a milkshake, leaking from it. It pressed deeper into her mouth, the warm fluid filling her mouth fast, and she swallowed.

And swallowed.

And swallowed.

It seemed endless, the liquid. The more she drank, the more she wanted, the more spilled from the strange appendage. She felt…euphoric. High. Better than any wine buzz, she was suddenly burning with the need to fuck. Her pussy swelled and began to ooze. Her clit throbbed painfully, needing touch.

As if it could read her mind, she felt a firm stroking along that sensative nubbin. She moaned around the thing in her mouth, still swallowing, almost gagging. Her tummy was full of juice, feeling like she might puke she was so stuffed.

And then it stopped, the flow just ended, and the thing in her mouth slid out, though a tentacle, a real tentacle this time, slid inside. It coiled there, pressing her tongue to the bottom of her mouth, circling and coiling into a thick mass, bulging out her cheeks. Her lips stretched painfully, and she couldn’t make a sound.

She felt something pressing between her folds. It felt like that same appendage that had been in her mouth, a thick round head and her hips rose, attempting to lure it inside.

She needed to be fucked. To be fucked hard, furiously hard.

It pressed against her, and into her. The girth was more than she imagined, and had her mouth been free, she may well have screamed at the pain of being filled thusly. But the fluid she had consumed had done its job, making her crave even more of the painful tool to fill her, to use her as vilely, and roughly as possible.

She craved the violence.

She craved the pain.

She wanted as she had never wanted before.

With a hard thrust it was inside her and pressing deeper. Looking down, she swore she could see her belly rippling with the invasion into her pussy, felt it tunneling deeper. It pressed against her cervix and again she would have screamed. It fucking hurt. It hurt so fucking good.

She bucked her hips again and the thing withdrew, then slammed back into her, as if sensing her need for violence. It rut into her roughly, her body primed and wet and wanting everything it gave. Each punch into her body was another thrust deeper into craving. She arched as the first orgasm gripped her hard, as a tentacle wrapped around her throat cutting her breath and bringing her to the edge of consciousness.

And then it relaxed, and she stole a breath, and another, until clenching again in an agonizing climax.  She couldn’t stop it. Wouldn’t have if she could have. Her ass hit the bed and she felt the wetness oozing from her, the sheet drenched from her opulent juices.

And then the sensation of being stretched impossibly wider, as a slender tentacle pressed against the thing in her cunt, seeking entry. She shook her head no, fearing she would be split in half, but it pressed, and there was pressure on her clit and she came in a paroxysm of ecstasy, losing her resistance, allowing the intrusive fingerling to enter her.

So full.


Such a dream.

So full.

Gawwwwd….and her eyes clenched as the tentacle pressed upwards into…through her cervix, opening her, opening her belly. A quick surge and she felt something press up and through the thing in her passage, something. She fainted as she orgasmed again.


It pressed the egg up and into her warm nest. In this region of the galaxy, this next generation would need to adapt to a warmer climate, or all would be lost of his kind, for eternity. He withdrew the egg tube, feeling it collapse and pull out of the female bipeds hole. In moments it was replaced with his sperm generator, and he felt the throb deep inside.

This was the part he had looked forward to. He had carried the egg within his DNA, as he had been designed to. But this, the ultimate fullment of the male? This is what he longed for. He felt the rising tickle as he thrust into the body cavity, felt the flaccidness of the female.

waken, he urged into her mind

He wanted her to feel the cold spray of his semen as he filled her belly. It was the filling of the victor, to feel her belly under his arms swell with the sudden influx of his jissom. He needed to watch, to touch as she bloated with it. The conqueror, the seeder, he would not be denied his destiny.


She was groggy, and her pussy hurt.

Hurt good. Hurt bad. Filled, so filled. Thickness, the worlds biggest dick in her. Fucking her. Plunging into her belly. The painful sensation of something in her belly, not just her hole, but through the opening of her cervix and into her womb. A painful stabbing as she felt filled with…something.

She shivered, feeling cold from the inside. Her belly was cold! Her teeth might had chattered had her mouth not been jammed full of rubbery tentacle. Her legs might have twisted had they not been wrapped in slippery arms. Her hips might not have risen if not for the pervasive need for more, more fucking, more fucking more….

She fainted as the pain in her belly grew more intense, like a need to burp, full of gas. Full of something.


He kept her mind quiet, as her belly took his load, moving from a flat taut abdomen,  to a sharply round, mounded circle. He kept her contained, a tentacle tip inside, stirring the mix in her belly, of the egg and his sperm, making certain that there was full contact between the two, ignoring her moans and whimpers as he tormented her body.

He knew when the connection was made, felt the small spark as the egg was pierced, fertilized and ready for fermentation.

He withdrew from her body, allowing the unused fluids to seep from her. She would be sore in the morning, sore from his use. She would know that something had happened. That she had been utilized. That she had been, as she spoke it, fucked. It was a possession of the most personal to these bipeds. She was his.  It pleased him that she would move today and feel reminders of his presence with every step. Her mammary glands would ache, her birthing hole would ache, her button would throb from the after affects of the mating juice he had fed to her. And yet….none of this should matter to him.

Yet, it did.

She was his.