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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
In pursuit of a promotion, Sharlotte has agreed to do a bit of corporate espionage: her employer has sent her to infiltrate the labs of the infamous Dr. Carmen (previously featured in Test Subject and The Grildo), impersonating a new lab intern. Sharlotte’s task is to steal one of the specimens of a newly-discovered alien life form that Dr. Carmen has been studying. But when Sharlotte fumbles the containment of the specimen, it latches itself onto a very personal part of her body, and more than her mission might be in danger if she can’t figure out how to get it off…11k words, erotic horror content rating.
A note: This story focuses a lot more on desperation/omorashi/piss-holding than my other stories. For readers who find that to be a turn-off, don’t worry, this is not an indicator of where my content is going, it just felt right for this particular story.
Content Warnings/Tags: nonconsensual sexual stimulation by a nonverbal alien creature; nonconsensual penetration of the urethra and bladder by an organic appendage; pressured/quid pro quo sexual encounter (with a human); nonconsensual exposure to an untested drug (aphrodisiac); abduction of a human for use as a scientific test subject; dehumanization
It had only taken one mistake.
Sharlotte should have known better. It was a dangerous assignment that she’d been given, infiltrating the laboratories overseen by the notorious Dr. Carmen; but there was a xenological species, a new alien creature. Dr. Carmen had somehow gotten her hands on several specimens. Sharlotte’s own employer desperately wanted to study one, and Sharlotte wanted a promotion. So she’d agreed to pose as an intern at Dr. Carmen’s lab, just long enough to secure at least one of the creatures.
It had all been going so well. The lab manager who hired her–not Dr. Carmen herself, but some reedy middle-aged man who worked under the doctor–turned out to be a blatant pervert; he spoke directly to her breasts at all times, and even leaned in to tower over her and get a glance down her shirt during the interview, not even bothering to hide what he was doing.
It was disgusting, but it was very useful for Sharlotte’s purposes. On her first day, she wore a push-up bra and a scoop-necked shirt, and then sweet-talked her way into a tour of the laboratory where the xeno specimens were stored. Sharlotte leaned in close as the lab manager showed her the various tanks, brushing her breasts accidentally along his arm, apologizing profusely when she backed into him and her butt bumped against his crotch.
He’d excused himself, stammering, to the restroom, leaving her alone with the rows and rows of alien creatures in their sealed storage environments.
Sharlotte moved fast, using the codes that her employer had provided for her to unlock one of the tanks and thaw out the stasis-frozen creature inside. It didn’t looked dangerous–only about the size of her hand, laying limp in the bottom of the tank like a defrosted, slimy alien starfish, its skin shining black-brown in the lights like an oil slick.
It had never occurred to her that the little thing could be fast.
She stuck her hand in with the collection receptacle, and the creature went from dormant to leaping through the air in less than a second. It wrapped its clammy, muscular little pseudopods around her arm and scrambled up quicker than she could grab it, leaving a trail of slime up her arm–under her shirt–down her stomach–
Sharlotte barely managed to bite back the panicked shrieks building in her throat. She swatted and grabbed ineffectively at her own body as the thing scurried rapidly under her clothes, circling and sliding over her skin like some deranged mixture of a rodent and a slug.
It paused briefly at her bellybutton, a wet opening on its underside sucking at her and a little appendage prodding slickly into the little pocket of skin, and she yelped and slapped at it. It moved again, slipping down under her skirt and between her legs.
Right as the lab manager walked back into the room.
Sharlotte quickly hid the collection receptacle in her bag and shoved the empty tank closed again, and tried desperately to behave as if an alien creature were not wrapping its clammy, slimy body around her sex–prodding at her with that appendage again–
“…and I think it’s about time for your lunch break,” the man was rambling.
“Yes!” Sharlotte said immediately, and then bit her lip on a startled yelp as the thing slid something inside her, a long, tentacle-like muscle that wasn’t quite as thick as a cock but was certainly not easily ignored. “Please,” she managed, a bit strangled. “I–actually, the restroom–“
“Oh, yes,” the lab manager said, still speaking to her breasts rather than her face. “Right this way.”
As soon as she was safely secured inside the women’s room, Sharlotte pulled her skirt and underwear down and grabbed at the thing between her legs. She took several tries to get a grip on its muscular, mucous-slippery flesh, but she şişli escort bayan finally managed to wedge her fingers and thumb partway underneath it and yanked. She managed to pry it off just enough that she felt the coolness of fresh air against her body where it had been resting.
And then–to her shock–it suctioned, hard, onto her clit.
“Ah!” she yelped, doubling forward, shocked by the sudden sensation. “Oh–“
The thing had sucked her clit into some kind of orifice lined in a soft, rippling texture, unlike anything Sharlotte had ever felt there before. The suction went on in long, deep pulses that, despite her revulsion, made her toes curl in her shoes. At the same time, the appendage inside her thickened and curled, stimulating her internally.
“Ugh. S-stop,” Sharlotte gasped, as if the thing could be reasoned with, and then she wobbled on her feet as the firm suction and wriggling pressure inside her sent a distractingly powerful pulse of arousal through her body.
She had to let go of the thing, relinquishing her grip underneath it, to catch herself against the wall before she fell.
As soon as she let go, it sealed up tight to her skin. When she reached down again, she found no leverage or purchase for her fingers; it had changed the shape of its body somehow, pressing the edges down smooth, leaving no way for her to grip or pry under it.
“Fuck,” Sharlotte gasped, then leaned forward and braced a hand against the door, because it was still sucking at her clit–still wriggling that tentacle inside of her–and despite her anxiety over the situation, her fear of what this unknown creature might do to her, she was–she was getting really–
“Oh,” she gasped in not a small amount of dismay as the suction suddenly eased off. The tentacle inside of her gentled its movements to a gradual, curling thrust, slowing the velocity of her burgeoning arousal until she no longer felt at risk of melting into a screaming orgasm right there in the bathroom stall. The rapid halt to the stimulation left her confused and burning, her spine curving and her hips rolling on the air helplessly in time to the slow movements of the tentacle inside her.
And then it stopped altogether.
“J-Jesus,” Sharlotte gasped, trembling with adrenaline and with unsatisfied lust.
She reached between her legs again, making another attempt to pull the thing off, but she was quickly distracted by the dull pleasure of pressing down on it, mashing her clit into that rippling texture.
“I. Fuck. Mm.” She rubbed and pressed at it for several long minutes, until she was finally forced to admit that she wasn’t going to get the thing off like this–and she wasn’t going to get herself off, either; it wasn’t nearly enough stimulation, not when she typically needed a fairly powerful vibrator and a good amount of time to finish.
If the thing had actually kept sucking, that would’ve been…
Well, the fastest orgasm of her life, maybe. And definitely the most embarrassing.
She hid in the restroom for a while longer, trying to think through her options. The thing was stuck on her, and didn’t seem to intend to let go. On the one hand, this was a disaster; but it wasn’t an unsalvageable one…she hoped. The creature was, after all, technically in her possession, and she would certainly know if it started to remove itself from her.
So, after a bit more deliberation, she pulled her clothes back on and–walking a bit awkwardly, overly-aware of the thing’s tentacle still sliding around lazily inside her–went to the staff mess for her lunch break.
As she ate, she sent a quick encrypted message to her employer, advising that she had the creature but that it wasn’t securely contained. She was too embarrassed to provide any further explanation than that, but she emphasized her need for immediate extraction. Dr. Carmen’s lab was on its own isolated space station, and her employer would need to arrange for a visiting vehicle to covertly pick her up.
The reply that came back was straightforward and disheartening. 3 days until extraction. Please attempt to securely contain the specimen.
Well.
I’ll do my best, she sent back, unwilling to describe the exact nature of the problem she was having with the thing, which was still slowly shifting inside her even as she spooned soup into her mouth.
No further messages came through.
Three days. She had three days to either figure it out, or face the embarrassment of asking her employer’s medical team to pry the thing off of her.
***
The rest of Sharlotte’s day was spent at a desk, plodding through an incredibly boring set of safety training modules.
This was a blessing, in that nobody was watching her closely enough to notice how distracted she was; but it was also a curse, in that she had nothing interesting to take her mind off the ever-present weight of the thing latched between her legs.
And the movement.
It was constantly moving. Little adjustments, taksim escort bayan like it was finding the most comfortable seat for itself in the grooves of her body; occasional pulses and throbs, like she was feeling the functions of its organs pressed right up against her. Sometimes the tentacle inside of her would curl or twitch. Other times, the orifice wrapped around her clit clenched, little suckling sensations that made her tense as she recalled the heavy sucking of before with a mix of anxiety and guilty hunger.
Even when it was still, she couldn’t possibly forget that it was there. Just shifting in her seat was a reminder of it, in the way it provided a firm buffer between her most sensitive parts and her own thighs, the pressure of the chair.
Speaking of pressure, another rather urgent issue began to arise as the afternoon wore on–one that Sharlotte had been trying not to think about, but that she wouldn’t be able to avoid for much longer.
Her bladder was getting uncomfortably full.
She had no idea what was going to happen when she tried to urinate. The thing was sealed firmly over her entire sex, including her urethra.
Best case scenario, she thought, the creature would be so shocked or distressed that it would let go of her. But she could imagine so many worse scenarios: it could react aggressively and somehow bite or sting her; it could seal tight, leaving her unable to fully empty her bladder; or it might even just act as an obstruction, with urine escaping unpredictably wherever its grip on her body was weakest, resulting in an uncontrollable mess.
She didn’t want to deal with any of those options in a public restroom. Even if the thing dropped off of her, it would be a nightmare trying to contain it in such an unsecured location.
Sharlotte decided that she would have to wait until the end of her shift, when she could go back to the quarters she’d been assigned for the duration of her internship. She could lock herself in the private bathroom there and…handle whatever was going to happen.
She made this resolution around three hours before the end of her shift, and found herself revisiting it every hour–and then every half hour–as the urgency in her bladder grew.
By the time she was down to fifteen minutes left, she was getting no work done at all. She was just sitting as still as possible, staring at the time ticking by and resolutely avoiding squirming like a child doing the potty dance. Sweat collected under her shirt and ran down her spine from the discomfort and humbling embarrassment of her situation, in spite of the punishingly cool temperature of the room.
Ten minutes. Five.
She shifted her thighs impatiently and winced as the movement made the organism adjust itself in response, shuffling its soft, textured flesh against her sensitive clit. The pulse of pleasure echoed inside her overfull bladder, making her need to relieve herself more acute even as she was stunned by a sudden, competing need, nearly as urgent, to hump her hips into the pleasurable sensation.
“Ugh,” she grunted quietly in dismay, putting a hand lightly over her lower stomach, where her tight bladder felt weirdly vulnerable.
One minute left.
“Close enough,” she muttered. Her hands shook with desperation as she tapped the necessary keys to log out of her workstation and started to gather her things.
“Sharlotte?” someone asked, directly behind her.
Startled, Sharlotte jumped, and–to her immense dismay–her bladder took the opportunity to try and disgorge itself. A small amount of urine gushed out, enough that she would’ve been worried about wetting her panties if there hadn’t been an alien creature in their place.
She froze, hunched forward over her desk as she struggled to claw back control over her body, fighting hard against the desperate urge to just let go, her bladder pounding violently against her attempts to reign it in.
The creature shuddered and wriggled as the urine seeped out of her, which just made everything worse. Sharlotte gripped at the edge of her desk and made a garbled noise through her grit teeth.
“Are you okay?” the voice asked. A woman’s face came into view as she leaned in next to Sharlotte, peering at her with concern.
Sharlotte nodded quickly, but she could tell from the way the woman was still staring at her that it wasn’t very convincing. “Fine,” she forced herself to gasp finally. “You just–you startled me.”
“Sorry, I just wanted to–I’m Anna, we’ll be working together.” She held out a hand.
Sharlotte, still not feeling quite confident enough to stand up straight, freed one hand from her grip on the desk and gave it to Anna to do what she wanted with it.
Anna shook hands uncertainly, then asked, “Are you…sure that you’re okay? You look like you’re in pain…oh, is it cramps?”
“Um.” Sharlotte took another sharp breath as her bladder finally–temporarily–backed off the pressure. “Uh. Yes. Cramps. Sorry.”
“Oh, fatih escort bayan you poor thing. Do you want some pills? I think I have something in my purse–“
“No,” Sharlotte cut her off quickly as Anna plunked her purse down on Sharlotte’s desk, preparing to dig through it. “I just, um, need to lay down. In my room. Thanks.” The thing was becoming increasingly agitated, rippling and squirming against her slit, the tentacle inside of her wriggling; she fought to keep her expression neutral, or at least to a grimace that would believably pass for pain.
“Of course! I can walk you there? You’re in D-Block with the rest of us, right?” Anna offered, and Sharlotte wanted to say no–but she had only been to her quarters once before, and the consequences if she got lost right now were…unthinkable. She nodded.
The next few long, torturous minutes were spent tottering carefully alongside Anna through the hallways, trying not to look too obviously like she was waddling or squirming.
Every step throbbed up through Sharlotte’s overfull, sloshing bladder, and then, humiliatingly, through her overstimulated cunt, making her clench around the tentacle lodged inside her. Her body thrilled hot and then cold again, muscles in her abdomen twitching with the need to stop and crouch down and just…let loose. Piss. Rub herself. God, both.
At some point, the thing scraped an exploratory tendril through her sensitive folds, stroking and poking as if it wanted to soothe her, or–fuck–as if it was searching for where the urine had come from. Sharlotte stumbled and had to duck her face to hide her expression.
Anna, happily chattering away in a one-sided conversation beside her, didn’t seem to notice; when Sharlotte sped up, taking little, careful steps that must have looked ridiculous, Anna just kept pace.
The tendril stroked up and down and traced around her clit, making her legs wobble and her bladder squeeze again. Sharlotte bit her lip against a quiet wheezing sound of need and desperation that tried to eke out.
“And just up here, around the corner–” Anna said, and Sharlotte saw it: the door to her quarters, marked D-835.
At the same time, the tip of the tendril poked into her urethra.
“Fuck,” she gasped, and rushed forward, slapping her palm on the bio-reader outside the door, only barely managing not to bounce in place. “I mean, um, thanks. Thank you–” the door slid open and she immediately rushed inside, leaving a stunned-looking Anna in the hallway–“See you tomorrow,” Sharlotte promised over her shoulder as she slapped the button that would close the door again behind her.
As it whooshed shut, she finally let out a little shriek of panic and discomfort. She jogged in place, reaching down to clutch between her legs.
“Stop-stop-stop, what are you, oh my God,” she gasped, unable to think around the pounding need to urinate and the increasingly bizarre sensation of the thing dipping its tendril in and out of a hole that was definitely not meant to be penetrated. “Fuck, fuck, fuck–I gotta–mmmm–“
She hurried to the bathroom, shoving her pants off as she went, only belatedly remembering to kick off her shoes and socks. She went for the tub first, thinking that whatever happened next would be best contained there. Then she whined sharply as she remembered that she needed to make sure the creature couldn’t get out of the room if it did let go–not that that was seeming very likely now, as the tendril crept deeper into her body.
Sharlotte rushed back to slide the bathroom door closed and hurriedly shoved her discarded pants against the gap at the bottom. She shut the toilet lid and stoppered the sink drain, trying to eliminate any means of escape for a small creature with no skeleton.
The bathtub drain she left for last, and it turned out to be the most complicated. She knelt in the tub and fumbled with it for almost a minute as she squirmed and squeaked, feeling the thing push deeper into her, her bladder throbbing with urgency as her eyes filled with tears of frustration.
“Come on, please, please, please–mmnn–” she whimpered, then gasped when she finally got the stopper to lock into place. “Yes, fuck, I need to, oh fuck.” She stayed where she was, kneeling in the tub, and braced herself.
The tendril wriggled and pushed deeper.
Her body, confused, flinched away from releasing the pressure in her bladder.
“Oh, God,” she groaned.
If this thing was stoppering her up on purpose…what would she do? If it didn’t let her pee, that was a medical emergency, and not one that her employer would be able to get to her in time to help with. She’d have to get medical treatment from the same people she’d been sent to steal from, and that would mean admitting to what she’d done, what she was there for, and–“Fuck, please,” she begged as her bladder throbbed hotly again. “I need to pee, please please please!”
Panicking wasn’t helping. She took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes, pressing her forehead to the tiled wall next to the temperature control. She focused on trying to relax. Letting go.
The tentacle pushed in deeper, sending tingling waves of bizarre sensation through her that tensed her back up again, making her bladder tighten and simultaneously refuse to let down.
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