Planet 3-N81: Nevermore

Chapter Six: Nevermore

It pushed in slowly, and Tristram let out another hitched cry.

Shhh... You are ready to take me, sweet one. Your womb has grown perfectly. It is so ready to be filled, It said, smiling down at him.

Its hands stroke his face, brushing away tears before running down his neck, shoulders, and chest.

It begins to rock its hips against his own; Tristram feels his insides clenching around it, and it is painful.

The alien's hands cup the taut skin of his chest gently at first and then begin to tease and pinch at his nipples. Squeezing and kneading until a bit of pleasure rolls through Tristram's straining, confused body.

Through his desperate gasps, a tentacle finds its way into his mouth, spilling rich liquid down his throat to calm him, and it works.

His body immediately reacts; his muscles go limp, his breathing slows down, and a feeling of warmth and contentment spreads throughout his entire body, his mind recognizing the honey-sweet reward and responding in kind.

The giant phallus pushes its way in again and again past his tight muscles, wriggling furiously inside him as it goes deeper and deeper each time until Tristram feels it hit something.

His back arched as the alien didn't pull out this time but pressed harder against that particular spot, letting out a long moan inside Tristram's mind as his insides tightened and pulsed around it.

Oh, you are so tight for me, little one. So deliciously tight, The voice said in an almost grunt, its pace beginning to hasten.

Tristram could feel his skin flushing at the sound of its adoration and praise, shutting his eyes and trying to shut everything that was happening to him out.

But the sloshing wet sounds of the aliens' appendage slapping in and out of him echoed throughout the large, hollow cave and rang in his ears, making it impossible to escape this hell hole.

He could feel himself slipping, a part of his mind telling him he couldn't resist it and another whispering that he shouldn't resist it.

All the while, the ache in his stomach was increasing, burning in excitement—in eager anticipation as the alien relentlessly began pounding its way deep into his guts.

He could feel warm liquid spilling down his thighs, making him squirm as the tip of its phallus pressed and rubbed insistently against something foreign inside of him.

Tristram's back arched as the tip of the alien's appendage kissed at his womb's entrance again, but it wasn't because of discomfort this time.

More and more, he was deriving a heated pleasure with each persistent thrust.

A moan escaped his throat against the thick weeping tentacle that was fucking his mouth, spilling sweet ecstasy on his tongue and down his throat in generous gushes.

Tristram let his head fall back, allowing the tentacle more access, feeling it shove its way deeper down his throat, the skin on his neck bulging.

Various tentacles slid across his skin, pinching and pulling at his nipples, caressing and teasing, smearing and spitting seminal and aphrodisiac liquid, ensuring every bit of him was covered in its fluids.

When he felt the alien press against the entrance of his womb again, Tristram pushed back on it with a bit of shame, but his body's arousal overcame his mind's deteriorating resolve to struggle and resist.

His hips moved in tandem with the bulbous phallus, both moving together at the same pace, Tristram bucking his hips willingly as the alien pounded inside his stretched hole.