Lucy Pinder's Alien Abduction(tags: F/m, F/M, small amount of F/F, small amount of twinfucking, big tits, big ass, titfuck, bondage, impregnation, older woman younger man, MILF, oral, anal, interracial, BBC)
A dark horror tale of UFOs and alien abductions, inspired by 90s “classics” like Fire in the Sky and Event Horizon. Part 2 will be posted soon.
Aliens want to breed Lucy Pinder…but don’t we all?* * *
Part 1 - The Dark-DoorLucy Pinder tore across Kansas at a hundred miles an hour, with the radio off.
She hadn’t heard the local news. Didn’t know about the lights in the sky; the crop circles; the mutilated cattle.
Hadn’t heard about the farmer who’d disappeared and been discovered stumbling through a cornfield a week later, with no memory of where he’d been and just a day’s stubble on his face.
She certainly didn’t know that the end of the world was drawing nigh.
She didn’t know.
* * *
Her jacked-up Subaru WRX screamed down the turnpike, turbocharger engaged. Picturesque views of cows and corn flew past, swallowed by her exhaust backwash.
The sportscar was speed incarnate—a blue thunderbolt with a steering wheel bolted on. Behind that steering wheel was eighteen-year-old Travis Declan, photographer’s assistant and Lucy Pinder’s boyfriend of three days. They’d hit it off during a photoshoot in Miami—the shoot had gone overbudget due to all the fooling around they were doing in Lucy’s dressing room—and when she’d invited her new boytoy on a laid-back road trip to the West Coast, he’d said yes. Mind you, he likely would have said yes to a laid-back road trip straight into a buzzsaw. Something about Lucy Pinder erased the word no from the male vocabulary.
Travis gulped as Lucy’s high-performance sports car surged underneath his hands, bulleting forward at stomach-crushing speed, four hundred horses raring and snorting in the engine. Kansas was flyover country, and this was as close to flying as you could get without an ATC clearance. The turbocharger made a frantic whizz sound, like a belt sander grinding through an aluminum baseball bat. He gaped stupidly at the road ahead, his mouth lobotomy-slack, his fingers white on the wheel.
Partly, this was because the WRX was fast beyond his wildest dreams.
Mostly, it was because Lucy was sucking his cock from the passenger seat.
Slrrrp! Slllrch! Sluuuaaark! Liquid slurping noises squelched and farted lewdly from his lap.
His stomach did slow, pleasant backflips as she fellated him. The big-breasted model’s head bobbed between his splayed legs, her tight ponytail flipping with each powerful, ass-clenching, ball-draining lunge and suck. Her gigantic tits dangled forward, almost falling out of her dress like melons overflowing a too-small shopping bag.
Lucy’s pink pillowy lips seem melt and flow like hot bubblegum around his shaft, curving around it, squishing before it, gliding up and down its engorged length, striping it with candycane lip gloss, making it pulse and drool.
God… Saliva trickled down his balls, itching unbearably. She could suck-start a B-52!
He’d made a hundred dollar bet with Lucy that she couldn’t make him cum before the next interstate sign.
Right now, it wasn’t looking good for him.
Travis took his eyes off the road to watch Lucy’s neck muscles tense and ripple with each driving, propulsive slurp. She worked his penis with tactical precision, her tongue’s velvet wetness slashing and caressing, taking him higher and higher yet somehow also lower and lower, as though heaven and hell secretly shared the same postcode all along. She batted his shat with deft pliant laps and flicks, coaxing out pre-cum, swallowing every drop that bubbled from his weeping slit. Then she lunged deep. Her cheeks hollowed out as she trapped his shaft and applied excruciating suction to his glans.
“OOF! LUUUUCY!” Travis gasped out, his body jerking. The WRX drifted from its lane. A truck horn’s blared, and he swiftly yanked the car back across the middle line.
Lucy spat out his cock. It flopped back onto his thigh, twitching like a stunned fish.
“Eyes on the road, mate.” She winked coquettishly, plucking a pubic hair from her lips. “And keep your hands on the wheel. Don’t think you can welsh on our bet by killing us both. I’ll gobble you in the afterlife if I have to.”
She plunged back down, gulping his prick back down in two loud horks. Attacking it, sucking it like a pacifier. Saliva gushed from her mouth onto the upholstery. Her sparkly pink lips gushed out a rhythmic SCHLORP SCHLORP SCHLOCK sound as they wrenched and pulled his lipstick-smeared shaft.
Travis writhed in agony, feeling sweat running down his ankles. She was relentless.
Goddamn it, I’m about to cum! Already!
…Just as his sperm started to rise, Lucy’s lips left his cock.
She pulled off, pulled back, and sat upright in the passenger seat, throwing her ponytail over one shoulder. She wore a high-waisted plaid miniskirt, and a lime-green bra top with corset-style straps. The massive sloping tops of her breasts gushed out of the cups.
“Please…” he sobbed, cock at the edge of orgasm. “You win the bet. Just let me cum!”
As he begged and pleaded pathetically, she icily reapplied her lipstick. She puckered up. Smooched the air. Liked what she saw in the mirror. An audacious smile lit up the car like a flashbang grenade.
Then she leaned forward, squeezing her boobs together. Stunning white walls of mammary-meat exploded from the cups.
“But I didn’t get to use my finishing move!” She reached behind her back, and unlaced the bra top.
Slowly, pornographically, she peeled the cups away from her breasts. Unsupported, her boobs collapsed in an rolling titvalanche down her chest. The bottoms of her melons almost reached the middle console. He felt the heat of her skin radiating from her big pink mammaries, and thought he could hear Lucy’s heartbeat reverberating through her oceans of flesh, then realized it was his own pulse he was hearing.
His stare left the road, sucked down into the yawning trench of Lucy Pinder’s cleavage.
Strapped to four tonnes of speeding snarling death, he still couldn’t stop that stare, Maybe this is why women live longer, he thought, certain he would faint.
An unctuous smile touched Lucy’s face as she saw the effect she was having on the eighteen year old.
She gripped her massive knockers, lifting them in two vast, obscene handfuls. “Concentrate on the road. I want those hands at ten and two, young man.”
He nodded, so she swung her fuck-tanks above his boner….and let go.
Plap! Plap!
She dropped her cannonball-sized jugs, and they landed on each side of his shaft. Heavy, warm, and soft, they flooded his crotch, deluging his dick in gallons of Page 3 girlmeat.
Lucy opened her mouth, let a trickle of saliva pour into the abyss, and began pumping her jugs around his cock.
An urrk! sound left his throat as her fingers squeezed her chest around him his penis. The strokes happened slow, then fast. The vast slopes of her cleavage billowed and exploded like mushroom clouds around his penis, making slobbering sounds, as though her breasts were whispering.
His toes twitched and curled as he stabbed his shaft through the her tracts of roiling, wobbling udders. He struggled to stay in his lane. He struggled not to die of heart failure.
Cars sped past them, blowing their horns. He couldn’t even tell what he was doing wrong.
Lucy gripped her big soft tits, jacking him off with both hands, slamming her fat heavy knockers in a messy, sticky blur. His tip stabbed out, only to disappear back inside Lucy’s boobflesh with a squish noise.
He humped himself to orgasm inside the wall of sweating titflesh, moaning and crying in defeat.
“Oooh…”
Ropes of cum blew out between her boobs. There was a liquid, sludge-like sound as his balls pulsed out torrents of porridge-thick semen, which his cock spewed out in blasts that arced through the air, bursting across the steering wheel, the dashboard, and the overhead mirror.
For a long time, Travis hissed and writhed, twisting like a spider burned in flame, pinned by the crushing weight of her jugs, trying to swing his torso to avoid flying jets of sperm.
He sagged back, and for a moment was still. He thought his orgasm was over…but then felt a sudden surge of pressure build up in his prostate like a sneeze. It felt blocked. Clogged somehow.
“UH!!” His eyes rolled back in his head. His arse shot up against her underboobs, the cocktip speared through her upper slopes, the slit yawned, and the thickest, clumpiest wad of semen of his life BLATTED out, disgorging between her big knockers. It shot all the way to the windshield, splattering in a messy signature-like scrawl on the glass.
Lucy pulled her breasts out of his lap.
“I win,” she said, popping open the glove compartment and retrieving tissues.
“No fair,” he whined. “You have more experience.”
“Me? Experience?” She wiped away rivers of boy batter and punched his shoulder playfully. “You think I do this all the time to guys? Believe it or not, you’re special. You’re what we call a fling. It’s been a long time since I’ve even had a boyfriend.”
Travis shook his head,
“No way do you not have a boyfriend.”
Lucy grabbed his wallet out of the middle console, retrieved a hundo, and wrote on it in fountain pen.
LUCY :1 TRAVIS: 0
“Lads take time, don’t they? And I’m busy. I never have time. You’re only the fourth or fifth man I have had sex with in my entire life.”
He was gobsmacked by this.
Maybe only three guys before me? He assumed the queen of Page 3 had sex with a lot of men. Perhaps a dozen or more. But that few? She’s practically a virgin!
“Lucy…wow….I honestly didn’t expect that.”
Lucy grimaced, wound down the window, and chucked out a handful of sperm-soaked tissues. Then she began fixing the rest of her makeup.
“I’m paid to present an image: a hyperavailable, oversexualized woman. It’s not real, Travis. There’s the makeup, and then there’s the woman. The truth is always different to how it looks from the outside. Do you know what the feminine mystique is?”
“Yeah, a Marvel villain.”
Her eyes rolled. “They’re the sum of the secrets us women keep from men. The things we don’t tell you. Most women lie in one direction. I lie in the other.”
Lucy’s finger flicked out. It wiped away a strand of cum she’d missed—the glistening rope plastered on the windshield—and popped it into her mouth, sucking her finger until it emerged clean.
“…my sex life is really boring.”
* * *
Night fell. Darkness swallowed the turnpike. Stars glittering overhead like a swirl of crushed ice in a glass, with the waxing crescent moon as a lemon wedge.
Lucy tapped Travis’s shoulder, and whispered something.
He nodded, and flicked the turn signal.
They left the turnpike. Weaving random paths down side roads, they found one that had no lights. No farmhouse lights glittered through the swishing fields of corn. There was no one to disturb them here. She leaned forward, and whispered again. Travis parked the car.
Ahead, the twilight asphalt was bathed in the chilly wash of his headlights, hardly stronger than the moonlight. When he shut off the WRX’s engine with a roll of his wrist, even that vanished.
A fugue of silence and darkness slid over them. It had the weight—and the heaviness—of a slow but crushing ocean wave. The quietness was broken only by the shallow ticking of the engine as it cooled.
She squeezed his hand.
“Let’s do it rIght here,” she whispered, blue moonlight making a radiant ice sculpture of her face.
“It’s so dark,” Travis sounding childlike. Scared.
“Dark is fine.”
Anywhere’s fine, she thought, thoughts cracking and going black with lust. I need a shag.
Lucy’s genitals were throbbing. Burning. The night was upon them, she was tired and bored, Kansas was a million miles of corn and conservatism, and she badly needed to sin with this kid in the dark.
Repeatedly.
“Whatever happens in the dark,” she spoke quietly, “seems like a dream, when the morning comes. As real or as fake as you want it to be.”
She unbuttoned his fly, and clasped his prick with fingers neither of them could see.
Fingers that could have existed in a dream.
His engorging male organ pulsed against her palm. Hot and visceral.
Lucy’s quim trembled. Something trickled down her thigh, riding her ice-blue skin like a racetrack. “Uhh…”
“Let’s fuck,” her voice went low on fuck, the only censorship likely to happen tonight. “I’m gagging for it.”
First, she blew him, getting him completely hard and wet.
“If you keep that up, I’m gonna bust in your mouth again,” he said, embarrassed. He’d done that more than a few times over the past three days.
“Can’t have that,” Lucy pulled her lips off his raring erection.
Randy and desperate, her hips writhing like a heat-struck cat’s, she angled back the driver’s seat, and climbed on top of him. The upholstery groaned beneath their interlocked bodies.
In the dark, his hands filled with her tits.
In the dark, they searched for each others’ hips.
In the dark, they writhed, grinded, experimented, tried, failed, and finally succeeded.
Connection. His cock slipped inside her gash, gliding so smoothly it felt her walls were lined with glass. The penetration was hot and tight and slippery-slow. His heartbeat twitched through her vaginal rugae, making cream squirt out. She was beyond gagging for it.
Lucy groaned in sexual libertinage as she split apart her legs, sliding down-down-down, fucking and fucking and fucking Travis’s cock until he was balls-deep in her core. Sweat poured from her skin, glowing in starlight. She was on top, in control, the way she always was and always wanted to be, pendulous tits flopping, hammering her toyboy in a barrage of boobs.
“Give it to me,” she grunted down at him, gripping his shoulders.
Her voice was raw. Desperate. Dirty.
A voice from the dark.
She humped his cock hungrily, driving the rutting with an unrelenting slavedriver paace, her coal-glinting eyes reduced to sucking holes of need. Her juicing crotch slapped so hard against his hips that the car visibly rocked on its suspension springs.
She leaned down on his thrashing body until her ponytail trailed over the clenched teeth of his open mouth.
“Put a finger in me…” Lucy whispered impishly. The words seemed to drip, hot and filthy, oozing like honey on his face through the dark, sex-stinking air.
“Huh?”
“Put your finger into me. I’m not telling you again.”
Travis didn’t understand. His cock was already socketed in her snatch. How could he get a finger in there as well?
Then she rocked extra-violently, enough to make her big British arse-cheeks clap together. Then he understood what she wanted.
Reaching into her crack, Travis hunted through thick blubberous assmeat, found her hot butthole, and shoved his index finger as deep into her shitbox as it would reach.
This caused Lucy Pinder to explode.
Her jaw opened. Her tongue spilled out, tasting starlight. Her dirty, sweaty asshole convulsed on his finger with walnut-cracking force. Then she screamed.
“FFFFFUUUUUCCCCKKKKK!!!!!!!” Lucy’s shriek was louder than the her sportscar’s engine and turbocharger combined. “GODDDD, I’M….I’M…BUHHHHHHHHH!”
Her orgasm nearly drowned them both.
Her hips bucked. A massive shot of squirt pulsed from her pussy, splattering across the car. It was followed by a second, a third, a fourth, a fifth…
“GUHHH!!!!” Lucy howled, more cum bursting from her urethra. She wriggled her broad hips from side to side, asscheeks clenching around Travis’s finger, cunt throbbing around his cock.
Her orgasm crashed over her in bone-shuddering waves. Lucy’s face was completely insane, twisted with climax, eyes bulging open, mouth wide, tongue out, drooling long strings of saliva down onto the tops of her immense flying tits.
After a dozen pulses, she ran down, and sagged against his chest, shuddering with post-orgasmic spasms. Even by the dim light, the car’s expensive interior looked like a water bomb had exploded inside it. Cum plastered and dripped from every surface. Lucy was silent for a few seconds. Then her sweat and cum-drenched body was wriggling against him like an eel, her cunt twisting around his erect shaft.
“More,” she hissed, tugging at his rampant penis with her grinding hips. “Dear God, give me more.”
She resumed her industrious fucking, the raw grinding of flesh on flesh replaced by a slippery squelch. Travis felt her heavy sweaty breasts skid against his cum-covered chest, abseiling on little pools and puddles of the female ejaculate she’d blasted all over him. He fucked back industriously, stabbing at her core, losing himself in warm slippery wetness, unsure of how close he was to cumming.
Lucy wrapped her arms around him as he hip-pumped her throbbing snatch. She giggled lustfully as he found a rhythm, jackhammering back and forth.
“Ahh, ugh, yeah, you stud, DICK ME DOWN!!” She clenched her powerful thighs around his waist, and leaned down, letting massive blobs of soft warm flesh splash over his face.
“Ahh, ohh, AHHH,” the vowels were gasped out, the sounds cut off. New noises of depraved lust were sliding up her throat in an endless river, silencing the one she was already speaking.
Travis heard the car wildly bucking back and forth, the suspension springs creaking with the pummeling force of their fucking. The sound of the springs. The sound of his cock wrecking her sloppy pussy. It all became one and the same to him.
Lust-crazed, she began clawing at him frantically, digging into him with nails, urging him on, ripping pieces of him away every time he gasped, every time he drove his prick into the hot, sucking core of her cunt.
The stifling air in the Trans Am was permeated with the thick, musky smell of woman in heat as they fucked and fucked. Her legs bent back up over her shoulders left her slavering, spewing cunt defenseless against the onslaught of his thick, hard manhood. She was spit-roasted on him. Prisoner and captor, all at the same time.
As her second orgasm neared, she jackknifed her legs high into the air and pulled her knees back to her tits, offering him all of her juicy cunt slit.
“I’m gonna cum again!” Lucy gurgled around the big prick throbbing inside her..
Pleasure coruscated like chain lightning through them both. He felt her mature 41 year old cuntal muscles clasp hotly around his prick, saw her moonfucked face collapse in an expression of pure ecstasy, felt his balls rise to squirt their load at last.
“Lucy! I’m gonna shoot! Should I pull out…?”
“No! Inside! Inside! INSIIIIIIII—!”
With a muffled moan, Lucy orgasmed again. “Unnhhh, uunnhhhhh!” She panted, arching her ass high off the car, trying to get more of Travis’s’s thick prick in her hungry cunt. Her final weighty slam triggered his own release.
Crazed with burning lust, he stabbed his cum-hosing cock in and out of the Lucy’s gushing pussy with convulsions that felt like they were coming from a corpse.
He spurted, she spurted, he screamed, she screamed. They became a ball of superheated flesh, a knot of fucking rats, a howling spasming creaming lust monster, dissolving into a puddle of languid desire.
They wrestled out their orgasms in the sex-trashed car, grinding together until they ran down, ran out, broke down, and stopped.
Lucy whined, collapsing against Travis’s chest. Huge sweaty breasts flooding across his face. He wrapped his arms around her shivering back, and held her. Held her close.
They rocked each other, falling into a strange liminal zone that felt almost like death. For a moment, near-silence filled the car. It was broken only by gasps of breath.
Whatever just happened, it ended us. The thought pingponged between their minds as they snuggled and snoozed. We died. This was our last night.
As it turned out, they weren’t wrong. Not by half.
* * *
Light pierced the car.
Hot, claustrophobic, and white, it blinded them, fulgorating their entangled bodies to a sweaty molten-metal glow.
Police. Lucy thought through a daze, trying to shake dick-drunkenness from her mind. We’re about to get arrested.
But the light wasn’t coming from the road. It was coming from the sky. It shined down from above their heads, going right through the roof of the car, which…
…which makes no sense, Lucy thought. For fuck’s sake, the roof is solid metal!
She saw her nipples tremble in the downward light. The shadow of her body was impossibly stark against the brilliance silhouetting her.
A driving, resonant tone sung out, a bowel-loosening drone that seemed to bypass her ears and slug her directly in the stomach. The drone rumbled through the car, and her tastebuds registered a bitter tang, as though she was sucking a mouthful of pennies.
I’ve never tasted a sound before, she thought.
The noise, like the light that had preceded it punched through the metal of the car like a drill twisting through pack ice, tearing through their bodies.. The resonant, deep thrum felt like worms twisting inside her bones. She shuddered, itchy and uncomfortable. The car seemed like a prison, a hive filled with boring, writhing sound and light.
Terrified, she shook Travis awake.
“What’s going on?” Lucy couldn’t hear her own voice. “WHAT’S GOING ON?”
The boy shouted something back. She couldn’t hear what he was saying.
The hum intensified into a maddening, sundering shriek, attacking like a pneumatic drill through the center of her corpus callosum.
“WHAT’S HAPPENING?” Lucy yelled, clutching her skull, where an ocean seemed to be screaming and howling and challenging its shores, so loud it wasn’t just breaking her mind but breaking the world, and then…
…she began to float.
She levitated, rising impossibly through the sex-smelling air of the car. The boy’s penis plopped out of her cunt as she was wrenched off his sweaty body.
They made eye contact, sharing a stunned look. A moment later, he began to float, joining her in her mid-air ballet.
They hit the roof of the car, and just like the light and sound, they slid through, falling up into a radiant, horrible sky.
Lucy twisted in mid-air, curving her body through light that seemed as dense as Yorkshire pudding. She gazed in horror at the Subaru WRX down below, watching it shrink in size. It became a child’s toy, then a model, then a postage stamp, then a single blue specular reflection beside the road, glinting back the same light that was reeling her upward like a hooked trout.
They were hundred feet above the ground.
Two hundred.
Laboriously, she swung her body through the slipstreaming light-river, and looked up into the sky.
Fear vanished. So did any kind of thought. It was as though her body had realized that thinking would do her no good, and had shut off that particular faculty. She looked out on what was dragging her out into space, and felt only empty, haunted wonder.
A doorway had erupted in the night sky, a doorway that fluoresced and illumed with horrifying colors. It was rectangular with sharply-defined edges, hewing darkness into the starlight. It interrupted the moon, cutting off part of the crescent. Pulsating hues ribboned out from the door, fluxing together into the same blinding ray that held them both prisoner.
Have I died? Lucy briefly wondered as the sky-door approached. The car crashed. That idiot killed us both while I was titjobbing him, and now I’m dead, aren’t I?
The doorway yawned to swallow her, and even that thought vanished.
Mind-destroying light shined through her flesh, iridescing on her bones, flaying open her brain, lithographing her terror-screaming skull into eternity.
A heavenly, hellish mandala of color sang over her and through her; threnodies from creation’s dawn; things mankind had forgotten; things mankind had never known, rolling over her terrified face like a terrible drowning storm.
She lost consciousness as she crossed over. Her mind flew from her grasp.
When her thoughts reformed, she was in another place entirely, and the moaning, singing river of light had gone. Now, she was in the dark.
Trapped.
Suspended in blackness, unable to move, Lucy breathed.
It was the only thing she could do.
Sucking strange-tasting air, she listened to her own breath. In. Out. Her pants sounded eerily wrong. Like the breathing of a body that was not her own.
She coughed once, then twice. The coughs echoed off far-away walls, coming back smeary and vague with distance.
Wherever this place was, it was big. She sensed gulfs of empty space stretching away from her body in all directions; above and below and left and right and forward and back. Like floating in the middle of a vast cave—an enormous dark sepulchre of unguessable size.
She could breathe, but couldn’t twitch a limb. Her sweaty skin rippled with itches that she couldn’t scratch. Something held her limbs fast. She contracted muscles, but her hands came no closer to her face.
Her eyes slowly adjusted, and she saw…glimpses.
Distant walls, corrugated with slow moving surfaces that heaved in and out. Slow. Rhythmic. Alive. As though she was trapped inside a chamber of a huge bloodless heart that was still beating.
She found she could turn her head. Moving slowly, she glanced around, saw faint hints of her body.
Her arms and legs were outstretched in space, forming an X shape. Ribbons of tangible darkness spun coils around her hands, her ankles, holding her fast to blackness. Like a huge-titted Christ, crucified not on a cross, but upon purest dark.
If she stilled her breath, she heard deeper breathing to her right—masculine breathing—and knew she wasn’t alone.
Travis. He’s here too.
She turned her head rightward. Faced him.
Like her, he was naked and imprisoned.
With his limbs flabelliformed in space, he glanced left, and saw Lucy. He swallowed noisily, his throat producing a dry click that echoed in the dark fleshy prison.
“Lucy…?” he whispered. “Can you hear me?”
She nodded.
“You’re gonna be okay…” His voice cracked with fear. *“We’re gonna be okay.* I don’t know where we are or what’s happening but I’m getting us out of here. Pinkie swear.”
Hands and feet tied with black cords, Lucy wanted to laugh. Pick another body part, mate.
“Don’t panic,” Travis said, gilding his tone with fake courage. “Just breathe. Breathe, and stay calm. We need to work on a plan to escape. What if we…”
Lucy stopped listening.
ratatatatatatatat
Things were happening around the edges of his voice. Slithers of movement. Strange scuttling, like centipede legs horripilating against tin metal sheets. The sounds increased to a frantic, racing frenzy. Something was waking up…something was coming closer.
In the enormous void surrounding their bodies, things skittered. Things scrabbled.
“…I don’t know where we are,” Travis blubbered, close to tears. “But I’m gonna get us back home!”
Lucy had no thoughts to spare for home.
The thing emerging through the gloom held her full attention now.
A misshapen blob—a little larger than a regulation basketball—seemed to crawl across the dark air. It moved like a drop of squid ink flung into suspensive oil, sliding and pullulating and squirming as it moved.
What is it? she wondered as it swelled before her light-starved pupils. Is it alive?
Limblike appendages flew out from its bruise-shadowed body.
Five long legs, exploding outward, like a star-burst of cracks broken in dark glass.
Five…
But when she counted again, she got seven legs. And then nine.
The twitching nest of legs constantly changed in number, as though Euclidean reality itself couldn’t decide how many it had. At no point did she notice any new ones appearing or disappearing, but each time she counted its legs, the number was different.
The legs were not articulated and jointed, like a spider’s. but had the free-flowing movement of rubber hoses. They were loathsomely studded with thick, itchy-looking hairs. Hairs that seemed to wriggle independently of each other.
The many-legged creature crawled through space—crawling with nothing to crawl on!—and halted in front of their faces.
The boy babbled in panic. Lucy stared in silence.
She filled her eyes with it, until they seemed to bleed from what they saw.
* * *
Not a dream. She could not wake.
Not a nightmare. It was beyond her weirdest and strangest.
A bloated, swollen bag, pulsing and throbbing wetly, hung suspended in front of her disbelieving eyes. It was a little larger than Lucy’s head. The physics of it were…wrong. It wasn’t a bag or a pouch, exactly. It was a Klein bottle of strange necrotic flesh, impossibly twisted inside and outside itself, a complex knot folded through multiple dimensions that the human eye could only imperfectly perceive.
Rot-hued colors swirled across the physics-defying flesh pouch. Colors she could not name. Textures grafted from the riverbed of the Styx. It glistened with fistulous tumors that bulged and subsided in bruise-dark flesh. Like its number of legs, its body shape fluxed constantly, resisting her attempts to visually comprehend.
Right in front of her eyes, she still couldn’t see it!
To her right, Travis gathered up his courage and spoke to the alien.
“WE DEMAND TO SEE YOUR LEADER!” the boy yelled ludicrous movie cliches at the creature. “YOU HAVE IMPRISONED US AGAINST OUR WILL! THIS IS AN ACT OF WAR!”
The weird floating bag offered no sign that it had heard or understood.
Its slick, bubbling body squirmed inside its ring of legs. The legs unspooled once more, and one touched his nose.
“S-S-STAY BACK!’ he shouted as the hairy hose-leg caressed his face.”WE ARE IMPORTANT PEOPLE ON OUR WORLD! IF YOU HARM US, THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES! THE PRESIDENT HAS ALREADY BEEN NOTIFIED! DELTA TEAM SIX IS COMING!”
Delta Team Six… Lucy mentally added two more leading zeros to their percentile odds of getting out of here alive.
“WE ARE NOT AFRAID OF YOU!” Travis bellowed, spraying saliva that mysteriously didn’t touch the alien’s body. “Y—YOU DON’T SCARE US!”
Speak for yourself.
Then the probing leg pulled away from Travis. The creature drifted back, appearing to think.
“THAT’S RIGHT!” he shouted triumphantly. “BACK RIGHT AWAY, YOU COWARD! YOU AREN’T SO TOUGH!”
The walls of the chamber exploded to frenzied life. Their throbbing surfaces disgorged thick, sticky ropes of darkness—seemingly the same as the ones that held them crucified—which flew toward them, like strands of ferrofluid pulled by a magnet. Like the boy’s cum, as it had fired between her boobs.
Then Lucy saw something that chilled her blood to frozen shit.
Blades were erupting out of the dark-ropes. Sharp metallic edges now glittered like frost on every one.
The razor-tipped cords flashed inward to converge on the boy. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Reaching forward, reaching inward, countless beaks and hooks and teeth and mandibles poised for his flesh, just a few feet away, and seeming to strain closer….
“See, Lucy?” Travis said, oblivious to the sharp points circling his body. “There’s nothing to worry about. We just have to stand our ground, and…”
The knives of darkness whirled down upon Travis, and tore him limb from limb.
<sub>snick-shakk-BLURRRTT!</sub>
It was so sudden.. His entire body just unraveled.
Fifty razor-sharp tendrils looped and lashed and closed, sliding into his flesh, crunching tendons, crushing bones, clawing away huge handfuls of meat and pulling these apart in every direction.
Travis burst apart in a disgusting welter of blood, skin, and viscera. His arms were wrenched from his chest. His legs broke from his pelvis with loud, chicken-drumstick snaps. His face transfixed in the prelude to a scream, but his lungs were shredded to ribbons before the scream could leap free. trav A tidal wave of hot gore washed over Lucy’s shocked face in a nauseating hell-blast of blood and guts.
Travis’s entrails unspooled in greasy gray-green ropes. His head spun, hewn off his shoulders. She saw his penis—the same penis he had fucked her with—floating through space, severed from his crotch. It swung past her face, looking ludicrously like an old sock, except it was trailing thin watery blood behind it…
A sudden flash blinded Lucy.
When her star-swarming vision settled, the grisly remains had gone. There was just empty space beside her.
Travis Declan was no more.
Lucy hyperventilated, disassociating as the boy’s blood cooled on her face.
Not real, not real, not real.
Coldly sick, she wanted to pass out, but couldn’t.
…and then the bag-like alien slid down before her gore-streaked features, slick and ghastly and inconceivable, throbbing like a heart vivisected from a demon’s chest.
Not a single drop of the boy’s blood had gotten on it, even though it been directly in front of him when he’d exploded. It was closer than it had been before. Close enough for her to see wires, looping from nowhere and coiling into its body. A blue wire, and a red one…
And then a horrific explosion of legs splayed out from its body, latching on to her gore-splattered face. This time, there weren’t five, or seven, or nine. There were hundreds, wrapping around her like a cage.
Unable to twitch a muscle now, Lucy was beyond fear. Just for a moment, she was calmness itself, the eye in the storm.
She stared at this dark prince from a far-away star, and wondered what it wanted of her.
Topic: Lucy Pinder's Alien Abduction (Read 7191 times)