Brenda dropped her tray onto the table with an audible clank. “Shitty burnt eggs again,” she complained. “I know we’re out in the ass end of nowhere, but that just means there’s no excuse for ruining good ingredients.”
“Can it, Brenda,” said Rosanna. “Unless you think you can do better.”
“Yes, lieutenant,” replied Brenda, standing to give her a faux curtsy.
Rosanna grunted, ignoring her snide tone. Brenda’s complaints weren’t unwarranted, but Rosanna didn’t want her complaints to spread. If they offended the cook, their food would probably get even worse. She wasn’t sure how that could be possible given their current rations, but she was sure Heidi would find a way.
Brenda clutched at her heart. “I’m feeling terrible heartburn, lieutenant, I’m not sure I can finish my shift. I think I need to go lie down and rest.”
Rosanna shot her an evil eye. “Okay then, if that’s the way you want to play this. You can go see Brent. I’ll send a note ahead to make sure he gives you a thorough examination. I’m sure he has an extra bitter brew he can give you to make that pain go away.”
Brenda twisted her lips into a snarl and sat back down, slamming her fists onto the flimsy table. “That’s not playing fair, and you know it.”
Rosanna’s lips twisted, but she said nothing, slipping a forkful of burnt potatoes into her mouth. Brenda was just being moody. She’d calm down, in time.
“Are you going on again about the food?” asked Regina, slipping through the hatch with her own plate of burnt offerings. “Why don’t you come off it, this might be shit, but at least we get a lot of it.”
She sat her tray down and doctored her eggs with large dollops of ketchup. Taking a forkful, she made a display of chewing the food carefully, making loud satisfied noises.
Brenda fixed her beady eyes on Regina, teeth gritted. Regina had the unnatural ability to pull the worst out of her colleague, usually quite by accident. Even on her best days, her cheerful personality grated against Brenda’s grim attitude. And that wasn’t when she was doing her best to get under Brenda’s skin. It wasn’t much of a stretch to say that after months of being forced to work together on the same team that they hated each other.
“Yes, you certainly are getting ‘a lot of it.’ I know you’re spending a lot of time with Hank from environmental and Sparks from engineering. How often do they fuck you? Every week? Every day?”
Before Regina could reply, Rosanna raised an arm. “That was uncalled for. Brenda, apologize to Regina.”
Brenda sat there, stone faced. “Fine, then, this discussion is over. Brenda, you’re confined to quarters until the the next jump. You can use this opportunity to think over your actions and put together a proper apology. But don’t get too comfortable—tomorrow we have a job to do.”
Brenda slammed her hands on the table, leaving her food behind as she stomped through the hatch.
Turning her attention to Regina, Rosanna arched her brows. “You’re not blameless, either. You know how easily you get under her skin.”
Looking contrite, Regina swallowed a mouthful of eggs. “I’m sorry, I’m just fed up with her bad attitude.” She paused. “You should know. I’ve already put in for a transfer. I just can’t stand working with her any more.”
Rosanna sighed deeply. She didn’t want to work with her either, but they were stuck with each other, at least in the short term. “Tell you what. Let me see what strings I can pull. If we can get her transferred instead of you, would that be acceptable?”
Regina nodded her assent.
“Great, looks like I have a lot of work ahead of me.” Rosanna smiled wryly.
“Rosanna, this is the captain speaking. Do you have that ship rigged for tow yet?”
Rosanna cursed, pressing the button on her receiver. “Only half way down the checklist, sir, I can’t guarantee we’ll keep the whole hull if you reel her in now.”
“Understood,” he replied in a clipped tone. “We’re on a tight schedule here, lieutenant, if that ship isn’t rigged in an hour we’ll have to get what we can and leave the rest for later. Roger out.”
Rosanna scowled and jabbed the comm button. That man had a tick in his bum if he thought they’d be ready for a safe lift in an hour. She flipped the comm frequency to the local band and made a call.
“Gina, Brenda, captain has ordered best effort in one hour before we dust this rock. Concentrate on critical lift points and leave the rest.”
“Shit, lieutenant, ain’t that cutting it close? What
if she drops a reactor? How worried are we about the mess?” Brenda’s voice came through tinny on the radio.
Rosa looked out over the jagged cliffs of Antasia and grimaced. The crashed ship had been mostly intact until it had the misfortune of smashing up against the rust red rocks. The forward third had separated from the rest of the ship, ejected three hundred yards away like a bad habit.
They hadn’t bothered with that section, preferring to salvage the more valuable engineering section with its reactor cores. As the cleanup crew for the Regulated League, it was their duty to salvage what they could for repair and reuse. This also had the useful side effect of denying pirates and other interested parties their technological secrets.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, focus on the most critical sections. If we’re lucky, this will be sufficient to get the job done. If not, I’ll vouch for you in the court of inquiry. Do your duty, Rosanna out.”
There was an exasperated noise on the other end of the line, but Brenda didn’t protest further. Rosanna had made it perfectly clear that she wouldn’t budge once she had made a decision. She was the solid rock of duty, the one everyone depended on to get the job done.
None of this duty stuff was helping her to finish this job, though. She unsnapped a target director from her belt and slapped it onto a critical structural point on the hundred and fiftieth frame, next to the port exhaust vent.
To perform a tractor pull, the salvage ship in low orbit needed to be able to precisely direct its energy beams to certain points on the hull of the target ship. Otherwise, the power of the beams stood a real chance of ruining the structural integrity of the hull. That could break the ship into multiple pieces, which would take weeks to cleanup. It was her and her crew’s job to ensure that didn’t happen.
She slid further down the side of the hull, unwinding the line that kept her attached to a winch anchored at the top of the fallen ship. As the ship had broken apart during the crash, it had fallen on its side, making for an almost impossible climb to the top. The shuttle crew had performed a tricky maneuver to drop them on the top of the ship to make their work easier. It was a hairy landing that she wasn’t eager to repeat.
She set a few more targets, working her way down. The work was going quickly, and she thought for a moment that she would be able to finish on time. Her communicator beeped, and she sighed.
Pressing the button, she clenched her lips together. “Rosanna here, this better be good.”
“Shit,” she muttered under her breath.
Brenda had been working her way around the tail section of the ship. A bag filled with her targets sat on the ground to the side, untouched. This would normally lead to a reprimand, but for the three alien figures who had approached the wreck from the east.
They looked vaguely humanoid, but were different enough to make her shiver. Their bodies had a deep red coloration, glowing in spots with a virulent pigment. Their heads were in the shape of an octopus, eight tentacled arms splaying out in all directions. The arms curled gently, displaying rounded suckers down their length.
Instead of a mouth, the creatures had a rounded, fleshy hole. Planted in the center of their faces was a single, solitary eye, overlapping the area where a human would have a nose. The eye was distracting to look at, as it was the size of a large grapefruit. The irises had variable colors, but all of them were vibrant with intense coloration. A single blink lasted a few seconds, languid in nature.
They were completely nude. Two of them were female with the third being… obviously male. She averted her eyes for a moment, but realized that she was being silly. What were human social mores to these aliens? Why would they care about her embarrassment?
The overall effect was as if a human body had been taken and adapted for life on this planet. A mad scientist grafting sea creatures onto people’s heads. She had never heard of that happening before, though, and she knew better than to insult the aliens by airing her idle thoughts.
Rosanna had only trained in the basics of first contact and she had never considered it her job. The first rule stuck in her head: treat them like normal. No matter how strange or ugly they look, don’t insult them, don’t run away, don’t display violence. Try to engage them in conversation or displays of friendship, then contact a higher authority for instructions.
As she arrived, it was clear that Regina had already been trying to communicate with them, as some tools from her toolbelt were lying on the ground in a jumble.
“Greetings,” Rosanna began. “Do you speak galactic?”
Regina jumped up from the ground and darted over to her, face blushing with excitement. “No, they don’t! Isn’t that exciting? This is a totally new discovery!”
Warding off her enthusiastic colleague, Rosanna pulled herself together. Getting excited here could lead to bad results. She was the rock of the team. She would get through this.
She walked up to the aliens, who all rotated to face her, their eyes blinking slowly. Damn, it would be hard to get used to that. She picked out the one at the front of the delegation and focused on it, trying to focus her attention on the creature’s body language.
“Hello, my name is Rosanna. Do you come in peace?” she spread her arms out wide in a gesture of openness.
The lead creature burbled, tilting its head. Its eye widened, bulging from its octopus-like body. It was so beautiful. She found herself being drawn inside its boundless, scintillating colors.
She blinked and shook her head, the moment passing. When the creature failed to do anything else, Rosanna continued, studiously avoiding its brilliant eye. “We welcome you and greet you. If you do not disturb us, we will not disturb you.”
She tried to figure out what else to say, when the creature rushed forward and seized her arm, tugging on it. It wasn’t trying to kidnap her, but it clearly wanted her to follow. She frowned, not knowing if she should.
“Just a moment,” she explained, taking out her communicator.
The alien stopped trying to pull at her, all three of them making a strange whuffing noise. She concentrated on the device, hoping she wasn’t offending the strange beings.
Flipping to the right frequency, she called the captain. “Captain Roger, this is lieutenant Rosanna calling, please respond.”
“Roger here, what is it now, lieutenant?”
Rosanna sighed. “We’ve hit a snag—first contact. Three alien creatures have approached and they seem to want to take us with them.” The alien creatures continued to whuff. “They’re a boisterous bunch. What would you like us to do?”
The captain grunted. “I’m not in a position to assist, but protocol dictates you should do what they ask until we’re able to send down a team with the appropriate specialists. I’ll consider the lift tonight scrubbed. Keep me apprised, Roger out.”
By the book Roger. At least he wasn’t breathing down their necks to get the ship salvaged, but now they were in unknown territory. Rosanna had never considered herself to be the most tactful person, and now she had been promoted to chief negotiator. And now she had to bring her full team together, which meant they were liable to get pissy. Brilliant.
She set her comm back to group chat. “Brenda, you better get down here, we’ve been ordered to play xenobiologist.”
The comm crackled. “The only way I like alien life is under my boot.”
“Well, you better hurry up if you don’t want my boot up your butt.”
“Sounds kinky. Brenda out.”
Rosanna sighed. This was going to be a bit of a problem.
The aliens led them down a single path trail which ran down a cliff side. The scrub brush around them gradually gave way to stunted conifers and grasslands around the verge. They even had to cross over a stream or two, which had been bridged with neatly trimmed logs.
This pathway couldn’t have been hastily constructed, but that didn’t assuage Rosanna’s suspicions. The aliens seemed nice, whuffing as they toddled along, but she had no idea where they were being taken. She kept her hand close to her side, palming her personal defense pistol. A last resort, yes, but she wouldn’t hesitate to plug one of these octopus beings if they turned hostile.
“Look at this, lieutenant,” said Regina, who was studying the local flora. “It looks just like a plum. It’s curious how similar the vegetation is to what we’re familiar with. Seems a bit strange.”
Rosanna’s eyes narrowed. They weren’t stuck in some sort of AI simulation, were they? The lush forest they were entering seemed like something out of old earth. Before the nuclear wars.
Brenda grunted.” Looks like a transplant world.”
The phrase brought Rosanna up short. Yes, she had heard of the naive experiments earthers had made in their vain attempts to terraform worlds to suit their nature. It usually ended poorly, especially when alien life was discovered that did not appreciate the ‘enhancements.’
Was this a similar scenario? If so, these aliens might not be happy about their presence. She wrapped her hand around her pistol in a death grip, looking all around her with a nervous tic.
She wasn’t security, damn it! Her friendship with Sally, the security chief, wasn’t nearly enough to prepare her for an unknown threat scenario. Was she missing something subtle they needed to know? She was so far out of her depth she knew she wasn’t making good decisions, but there wasn’t much choice. Not if she wished to avoid a tongue lashing from the captain.
When the aliens gestured towards a semicircular opening in the rock face bounded on both sides with arched evergreens, she summoned fake confidence. This was on her, and her team would look to her for guidance.
“Come on, everyone,” she declared. “Time to see the hospitality of our hosts!”
Brenda grunted, hands in her pockets. Regina grinned and skipped forward with ebullience, stopping to examine a large, flowering plant. “Look at this!” she declared with curiosity. “It almost seems to be breathing!”
Rosanna sidled around her colleague, examining the flower. Its head was huge, the size of a dinner plate, twelve inch petals flowing out In a corona. Half way down the stem was a bulbous swelling that ran up and down the neck like an Adam’s apple. The flower swayed back and forth, turning towards them despite the fact that there was no wind.
Realizing the danger too late, she attempted to push Regina out of the way as the flower expelled a large cloud of pollen with a loud whoosh. She coughed, wheezing as the irritant attacked her lungs. “We have to… leave!” she gasped.
Her vision hazy, she stumbled away from the cave, heart racing. More flowers surrounded them, hanging down from above and hemming them in from the sides. It was a trap! How could she not have seen it! She was such a fool!
It was too late to hold her breath. She had already inhaled too much of the initial blast. Maybe she could warn someone? She reached down to pull out her comm, but something grabbed hold of her arm.
Right next to her stood one of the octopus aliens, her hands and arms a scaly red. The hands felt warm on her arm, preventing her from retrieving the comm.
More than just her hands felt warm, now. Her entire body was flushed with heat, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to think. Her heart raced, blood rushing to her head. Right before she blacked out, a lingering thought bounced through her fading mind. What would the captain think of her incompetence?
She woke up to an annoying dripping noise, echoing from somewhere in the distance. She opened her bleary eyes, groaning at the aching pain in her wrists and legs.
She tried flexing her limbs, only to discover that she had been glued in place by some sort of secretions. Her utilitarian jumpsuit was missing, exposing her to the sharp, cool air of the cave. A soft breeze tickled its way past her privates and up over her well endowed chest, giving her the shivers.
Concentrating on her right arm, she pulled with all her might, looking at the opaque covering which held her fast. Hard as crystal, the coating refused to budge, gluing her to the wall from her wrist up to her elbow. It was the same with her legs, no joy there, either. She was a captive of the strange aliens.
She breathed slowly, refusing to panic. There must be a way out of here. Where had they taken her equipment? She made a visual survey of the area around her, taking care to inventory anything that might be of interest.
Luminescent fungus grew from nooks and crannies, illuminating the cave with an eerie glow. The enclosed area lacked stalactites and stalagmites, indicating a lack of groundwater. It instead looked like a giant hand had jammed itself into the ground, scooping out all the dirt.
The walls were smooth, coated with a glistening material that was hard to look at for long periods of time. She could see strains of blue and red in the reflections, a dazzling display.
A groan from the wall to her left focused her attention. She turned her head, pulse jumping as she realized Brenda was bound next to her. She licked her lips, dry from whatever that knock out pollen had done to her. “Brenda? How are you holding up?”
The moaning continued. “She’s… in my head,” Brenda complained, murmuring with delirium. “I must obey Her… yes.”
Something was wrong. Rosanna twisted her head, trying to get a better look. She jumped, tugging against her restraints. On top of Brenda’s head was a red octopus, perched on her skull like a hat.
Its arms waved languidly in strange patterns, the soft flesh stroking against Brenda’s shoulders. She could see the suckers grasping gently. A faint hint darker red pulsed down its arms, circulating throughout the alien creature’s body.
Shit. “Brenda, are you okay? Hold on there, we’ll get out of here and get you some help.”
Brenda’s head turned to look at her, eyes cloudy. “Why does it feel so… good?” she slurred. “She’s wearing me like a cheap suit, and I love it.”
Rosanna tugged harder, but the secretions refused to budge. This was an alien intelligence far outside her capacity to deal with. She had studied the chart once, out of curiosity, and any being that could affect someone’s mind would definitely have made the grade for quarantine. Possibly… total destruction. All of their lives were at risk.
“Just hold on, everything will be okay!”
That was a blatant lie, but she didn’t know what else to say. Brenda might be an asshole, but even she didn’t deserve whatever was being done to her. If she could just reach her comm… but no, she had no idea where they had taken her tools.
A clopping noise echoed through the cave, drawing her attention back to the right. Another alien, this one in the form of a quadruped, trotted into the cave from a hallway. It was colored the same red as the aliens they had initially contacted, its head in the shape of an octopus.
It was about the size of a large goat, with hooved front and back feet. Its taut skin was a ruddy red, hairless. Its belly dragged against the floor, distended with rounded bulges. It stopped and looked at her for a moment, the eye on its face glaring at her with intensity.
As she watched, a thick tube extended from its mouth, swelling and lengthening with increased blood flow. It looks like a penis, though the end had a well defined rounded opening. The tube lengthened, curling downwards from gravity, its surface glistening. To her shame, her thighs instantly became wet.
Her lips parted, teeth bared. She had to look away. She didn’t want to imagine that thick appendage plundering her privates, the hypnotic eye of that octopus creature pressing up against her pubic bone.
She forced herself to break her gaze, shaking her head to break its influence. The creature made a whuffing noise, air escaping its new appendage. It continued to her left, stepping up to Regina.
Bracing herself, she turned her head to watch its approach. She needed to see what it was going to do to her crewmate so that she could make a full report. It definitely wasn’t her own lurid interest in what was about to happen.
Brenda sighed, a look of bliss suffusing her face. “She wants me to breed,” she said happily. “I love to breed. She’s going to fill me with her brood.”
Rosanna frowned. “Snap out of it, Brenda, this isn’t you. That’s the alien talking.”
Brenda didn’t reply, spreading her hips apart as wide as she could in her restraints. The quadruped whuffed again, pressing in close to her crotch. The appendage inflated further, rising to stand out straight like a rod.
With little fanfare, it plunged itself into her pussy, sliding in and out with little effort. The effect on Brenda was electric. She cried with little yips of happiness. “Yes, Mistress, push it deeper. I am your breeding slut. I live to create, to birth them for you. Fill me up!”
The quadruped could not possibly have evolved to reproduce this way. The octopus aliens must be modifying other, existing creatures to meet their needs. What did that mean for her and her landing party? A dangerous thought to entertain.
She mustn’t give up hope. Her only goal was to escape so that she could tell the captain to dust this rock and come back with the military. She accepted that her life was likely forfeit.
Brenda bounced her hips in an oscillating motion, encouraging the alien to plunge ever deeper. The whuffing sound came more frequently now, accompanied by a bulge passing up the creature’s throat. The bulge moved through the tube and up into Brenda’s vagina, a willing receptacle.
Those were… eggs! And they were being packed in, one after another while Brenda rolled her head and groaned, a willing participant.
Rosanna closed her eyes, the image burned into her brain. What the hell had they stumbled into?
She gasped as something wet slapped against her thigh. Her eyes took a moment to focus, but she soon realized with horror that one of the octopus beasts was climbing her legs. She shook back and forth, but was unable to throw it off, its legs wrapped around her thighs.
Brenda’s breeding quickly became the least of her worries. With her arms still held against the wall, the only thing she could do was squeeze her legs together as much as possible. The octopus didn’t seem to care, its limbs coiling slowly to wrap around her butt.
It moved upwards, positioning its bulbous head over her pubic bone before settling into position. Its large eye peered up at her, the cerulean circle gazing at her with intensity. What was it planning to do to her?
On tenterhooks, she jumped as something hard pressed against her vagina, a small knob rubbing against her opening. Was it trying to… pleasure her? She squeezed her hips together tightly, but the creature pushed them apart effortlessly, as if laughing at her attempt at resistance.
She had thought the horror of being assaulted by a cephalopod would preclude any notion of pleasure, but despite her aversion her body was responding. It probed deeper, one of its arms circling around to press against her anus.
Something squirted inside her vagina, a thick, fleshy protuberance swirling around her interior. She felt disgusted, but it felt strangely appealing. The tickling at her ass was becoming more insistent. She was being used by this horrible creature, and her body was responding to its presence!
Her mouth gaping wide, she stared at the alien’s eye, sinking deeper under its spell. She stared in fascination at its pupil, a black rectangle squashed into the shape of a barbell. It looked right through her, seeing beyond her disgust, touching her soul. Its eyelid dropped shut for a moment, leaving her adrift for a brief moment before seizing her attention once again.
Brenda’s moaning was a regular counterpoint to the assault the octopus was making on her body. She groaned as the thick knob inside her twisted and turned like a snake, getting the distinct notion that she might actually orgasm from this strange assault.
“Doesn’t it feel amazing?” gasped Brenda. “It’s in my brain, changing me into a more perfect host for its will. I am becoming one of its Tentacles.”
She ran her tongue over her lips. “The Drogan is giving me its clutch to hold and gestate. I will be the perfect mother for its eggs.”
Rosanna grimaced as the knot of the octopus twisted inside her nethers. She didn’t think breeding more of the octopus creatures was all that great of an idea. Whatever it was doing to Brenda had completely changed her personality. She had never expressed motherly ambitions in all the time Rosanna had known her.
No, she had explicitly said once while drunk that children were parasites, and that it was for the best that she had been sent to the sticks so that she could avoid the murder trial that would result from knifing her former paramour. She was a cranky bastard, not prone to displays of any kind of affection. Whatever had happened to her was changing her personality, molding her to be a more perfect slave to whatever beings had captured them.
She would be more alarmed if it didn’t feel so damn good to grind her hips and stare into that enlarged eye. The pupil on the octopus assaulting her pussy creased, as if it was winking at her. Yes, she liked the way it looked at her. It was making her inordinately happy.
Her trance was broken by a droplet of water trickling onto her forehead. By reflex, she looked up to try and discover its source. The terror flooded back in and she realized just how fucked she really was.
The ceiling was crowded with hundreds of the octopus creatures, arms interlocked to prevent gravity from hurling them to the floor. Their eyes stared down at her, small circles of light blending together into a spooky audience. They were watching her, watching everything she did. Watching her useless struggles. Watching her press her thighs together to increase the stimulation between her legs.
There was no escape, could be no escape from them all. She had been screwed from the beginning, and just hadn’t known it.
With acceptance came a certain nihilism. This was inevitable. They had captured her and she would be changed to be a more perfect host for them. She glanced back down at the octopus massaging her pussy, staring at its the misshapen pupil. “You knew this all along, didn’t you?”
It winked at her again, its bulbous body changing colors as it vibrated. She sighed, and looked closer. The more she examined her tormentor, the less she cared. It seemed like a fair trade.
She almost didn’t react when a weight plopped onto her head, a cool presence enveloping her buzz cut. Twisting tentacles lowered from atop her skull, resting on her shoulders.
“What a cheeky buzzard, you were only the distraction,” she remarked at the octopus on her pussy, amused by its audacity.
It winked again, sending her mind spinning. She felt a sharp pinch at the crown of her skull, cool wetness spreading inside her head. She was lost in a sea of uncertainty, thoughts running in circles.
The storm abated, confusion ebbing. She knew right away. Something was inside her brain. It was touching all parts of her, making her feel wet and cold. Calm, she welcomed its presence. She climaxed for the first time when she realized what had just occurred. She had been implanted with her own octopus.
She tilted her head, looking up. Above her was the forward edge of her new Mistress, red striations running throughout its flesh. Arms ran down either side of her vision, like an elaborate headdress. Twin rows of suckers curled in the damp air.
She shuddered, knowing that she was a subservient being. She would do whatever her Mistress commanded. One of its arms stroked against her cheek, rewarding her for the correct thoughts.
It stirred her mind like a mixing bowl, examining and discarding concerns and worries that were no longer applicable. It was being reordered in service of this new beast. They were linked. They were one.
A blur of movement attracted her attention. There on her right was another human figure. It was Regina, standing still with patience etched on her face. Like Rosanna, a Mistress clung to the top of her skull like a strange hat. They were sisters in slavery to these strange, no, cool and familiar beasts. Her nipples became rigid at the good thoughts, arousal from becoming more obedient.
“You have been installed,” stated Regina in a matter of fact tone. You are Becoming. You are a Tentacle.”
She nodded. Yes, she was a Tentacle. She would obey her Mistress.
Regina walked up next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “We serve the Mistress. We are her hands.”
One of the octopus arms dangling from Regina’s head reached down and rubbed itself over the resin securing Rosanna’s right wrist to the wall. The restraint came away easily, dissolving at some solvent that must have been secreted in the animal’s suckers.
Regina repeated this process, freeing Rosanna from her physical bondage. The bonds were unnecessary now, Mistress was in control. Rosanna would obey.
She stood, looking down at the octopus pressed against her pussy. She ran her hands over its head, marveling at the chromatic display it gave her as a reward. It continued to work her privates, bringing her to an orgasm, a gentle pleasure pulsing throughout her nether.
Being a Tentacle was pleasure. She was a good Tentacle. Her crew members were excellent Tentacles, too. Her brain buzzed with reward, the octopus on her head pulsing with approval.
She turned and looked at Brenda, who was still locked to the wall. Regina was releasing her as well, but Brenda seems more confused about her new position than Rosanna was. It was possible that this was brought on by her breeding, which was still ongoing.
The Drogon was almost empty, its eggs nestled safely in Brenda’s warm uterus. Her belly had distended proportionally, making her appear very pregnant. Brenda stared into the distance, saying nothing, a smile glued to her lips.
There came a slurping sound, and Brenda’s eyes rolled up into her head, her body slumping against the wall. The octopus on her head slid downwards, widening to accommodate the girth of her skull. The wet underbody of the creature swallowed the top half of her head, rapidly sliding past her ears and nose until it had wrapped itself tightly around her neck.
Her face had completely vanished, hidden under the pinkish red flesh of the octopus. Was it eating her? Were they all just food to these aliens? The idea bothered her, making her feel queasy in her stomach.
“What’s happening to her?” questioned Rosanna, physically trembling.
“Do not worry,” replied Regina. “She is being podded. She will be made Wet. We will all be made Wet. Dry is bad. Wet is good.”
Oh. Rosanna calmed down. Of course. Mistress wouldn’t hurt her. Good thought Her mistress only wished to improve her. Good thought She wanted to be made Wet, too. Good thought
By this point the octopus had expanded, covering Brenda all the way down to her waist. The Drogon whuffed, expelling its last egg into her snatch. It backed out, its seven inch long implantation tube flexing as it as extracted. Wet slime ran down her legs, lubrication from her successful mating.
Rosanna was surprised at just how wide the expanding octopus had become as it swallowed the remainder of Brenda’s body. Her bloated belly was accommodated as if it was a minor bump, arms and legs sucked up into the beast. The last to go were her toes, slurped up by the mouth-like opening. All that remained was a reddish pod, a gigantic egg with the large eye of the octopus on its front staring out at its observers, blinking languidly.
Rosanna knew that this was likely her fate and felt a frisson of excitement. She wished to be podded. Good thought She wanted to be converted into a proper Tentacle. Good thought
“When can we join her?” asked Rosanna, jealous that Brenda was able to experience the pure joy of becoming Wet first. “When can I be podded?”
“Soon,” replied Regina with a knowing smile. One of the arms on her octopus patted her under her chin.
“I, too, wish to experience that pleasure. However, it is more difficult to communicate with pre-podded humans after being converted. There is much to do before we will be given that pleasure.”
“What do you need me to do?” She would do anything for her Mistress. Good thought
“The Mistress wishes to expand her presence. She was recently attacked by the Dry people and wishes to make them Wet. While they are Dry, they cannot understand her. When made Wet, they are are a part of her and must do as she commands. If all who are Dry are made Wet, they will not be able to make her Dry.”
“I understand,” replied Rosanna. “They will be made wet as Mistress commands.” Good thought
“Excellent. Please follow me.” Regina marched down the hallway, leaving the podded Brenda behind.
The cool, wet presence in her mind stirred, forcing her legs to follow Regina. She did not mind the forced march, for it was a command from Mistress. She felt the tentacles that pressed against the back of her head acutely, the weight of them splayed out behind her shoulder blades. This, too, was a part of being Wet.
She rolled her shoulders, pleased at the slimy sensation. She enjoyed being Wet. Good thought All of her crew members should be made Wet so that they could obey Mistress as she did. Good thought
The cave narrowed in diameter for a hundred meters, opening up again at the other end with multiple side passages. On their way, they passed a few Drogon shuffling down the passage way, tending to their duties. More octopuses must be made, grown, and implanted. That was the only way to achieve Wetness.
Their destination was a large, rounded chamber, similar to the last, except this one was filled almost to capacity with metal cafeteria tables. Her human brain recognized that these must have come out of the crashed ship, salvaged by the industrious aliens. They were just like her! And she was just like them. Good thought
Crowded around the tables were more podded humanoids. She idly wondered if they had originally been human as well. Good thought She wasn’t too concerned if that was the case. They were all Tentacles, proxies of Her will. Together, they would all work together to achieve her goals. Good thought
Each podded humanoid had a large, round eye on the front of their octopus face. All of them were focused on the table in front of them with an intense stare. The first humanoid on the left lowered her hand to the plate in front of her. It was a filled with rounded fruits the size of large grapes. Grasping one with her hand, she raised it up high, above the large eye that dominated her face, above to the rounded dome on top of her octopus head.
Rosanna was surprised to see a mouth opening on top of her head, a gaping hole that opened up to receive the fruit. The podded humanoid’s entire body shook in pleasure as the food dropped into the cavity. The hole vanished, reforming the top of the octopus in a pinkish curve. Now that she knew where to look, she realized that the skin was wrinkled with sectioned flaps that allowed it to open like a mouth.
Curious, she reached up to her own octopus, but it was sitting too high on her head for her to reach its top. Instead, her hand got accidentally tangled up with one of her tentacle arms. She made a double take. Did she really think that this octopus hat was a part of her? Good thought Could she make the arms do what she wanted?
She moved forward to the end of the table and commanded the arm sitting on her shoulder to pick up one of the fruits. Slipping from its position, it flopped onto the plate, fruit spilling out onto the table. A few fell to the floor, rolling underneath.
Embarrassed, she concentrated and realized to her delight that some of the suckers on her arm had managed to capture the slippery skin of a purplish sphere. The arm lifted, presenting the fruit to her mouth. She opened her lips, pressing it against her teeth.
The tentacle arm mashing up against her face was rubbery and slimy, but to her surprise she realized that she was actually getting limited tactile feedback from it, which allowed her to maneuver it more precisely. The suckers flexed, relaxing to allow the fruit to roll into her mouth.
Crushing the fruit’s gentle exterior with her jaws, she marveled at the fresh flavor and juice that spilled though her mouth. Swallowing, the gummy fibers of the fruit’s capsule slid down her throat. She smiled, pleased at having such a satisfying snack after skipping lunch earlier.
This was all very pleasant, but this was not accomplishing Her will. Bad thought she shook, realizing that she might have stepped out of line. Bad thought
Regina scooted up next to her and stroked her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Rosy. Those bad thoughts will be smoothed away with time. You cannot disobey her. If required, She will command your body to do what is needed.”
She needed to hear that last reassurance. If She did not wish her Tentacle to do something, She would take control. Because of this, nothing she did could be wrong. Good thought She would relax and find out what her Mistress required of her. Good thought
The podded female at the table in front of her seemed unbothered by the mess that Rosanna had created. Her tentacle arms reached out, plucking each of the erstwhile fruit from the table and placing them back on the plate with flawless control. She even retrieved one from between the reddish orbs of her breasts with precision. Rosanna felt envious. “How can I achieve better control of my tentacle arms?”
Regina burbled. “These have been fully podded. You can’t expect to be an expert until you’ve been integrated with your octopus.”
Frowning, Rosanna turned to look at Regina. Despite the octopus propped on her head like a strange top hat and her lack of clothing, she looked the same as ever. She narrowed her eyes. “How do you know all this?”
Regina matched her gaze, taking Rosanna’s breath away. Her eyes were cool, cold as the ocean bottom, blue as the deepest depths. Whatever inhabited Regina was so much more than what her former coworker had used to be.
“I am She, the One with a thousand eyes and a thousand arms. I am your Mistress and you are my Tentacle.”
Rosanna bowed her head, suddenly struck by the feeling of an immense gap between her and the being that inhabited Regina’s skin, an unknowable presence in the same room with her. It was rather terrifying. It was also rather exciting. This was what first contact should be like!
With the knowledge of who She was, Rosanna also realized the unalterable truth. She belonged to this being, irrevocably. She was bound to follow her will. Good thought The realization was intoxicating, locking her limbs in place.
She lowered her eyes, murmuring. “Mistress.”
A soft hand rested against her chin, pulling her head back up. “Rise, my Tentacle. This is but a temporary state of affairs. Perhaps in the future I will borrow your body to use for my Purpose. You are a part of me. We are Wet.”
Brightening, Rosanna smiled, her octopus arms waving in joy. The emotion was fleeting, her consciousness brought back down to ground level. “What is your Purpose? What is my Purpose? What comes next?”
Regina’s face clouded, a hint of darkness flooding those cerulean eyes. “It is not safe here for me and my kind,” she replied. “I have been hunted by the Dry ones before. I have fled long distances to escape them.” She smiled, showing her teeth.
“I will flee no more. The Dry ones will be made Wet. I will spread far and wide until the Wet cannot be dried. I will spread, grow, and Flood myself through a thousand worlds, a million worlds if need be to protect myself and my Tentacles.”
“But that is for the future. The largest goal begins with the smallest steps. In the beginning, there were few. You are a part of those few. You will help me to breed and become many.”
Just a few short hours ago the thought would never have entered her mind. The tentacle swirling through her brain had changed her mind. She was Her servant. She would spread as she was commanded. Good thought It was in her head, making her think these things. She felt wonderful, hoping the rest of the crew would not prevent them from reaching their goal. They would all be podded. Good thought
It was in her mind, changing her thought patterns so that she would like her octopus Mistress. Worship the Mistress. Good thought How could she have ever imagined that getting mindfucked would feel so amazing?
Rosanna uncrossed her eyes, blinking as Regina reached out to stroke her shoulder with a tentacle. It was not an unpleasant sensation, the suckers tugging gently at her skin. Her mind blanked as she imagined the suckers sucking at her breasts, but shook off the good thought. It was a pleasant distraction, but there wasn’t much time before the next landing party arrived. If Mistress wanted to make them Wet, they needed to be prepared.
Regina pressed a finger to her lips. “I know what you are thinking, but we only need to wait. They will surely try to call you when they approach. Until then, I have plenty of time to play with my Tentacles.”
She leaned in close and gave Rosanna a kiss on the lips. It was soft, surprising, and far more pleasant than it had any right to be. She leaned into the kiss, helping her Mistress to plunder her mouth.
She felt no particular sexual attraction to women, but the dominance of her Mistress was attractive in and of itself. As she was pulled in close by Regina’s body, she was surprised to find that the sensation of their breasts pressing against each other was making her body wet. That shouldn’t be possible. Sexual attraction was not something you turned on and off like a light switch.
“I like you,” whispered Mistress softly against her mouth. “You will make for an excellent breeder.”
“How can this be?” asked Rosanna, squirming under her Mistress’ control. Her arousal was building, bounding to higher and higher levels.
“It’s easy. I’m inside your mind, and my desires dominate yours. You are aroused because I am aroused.” She trailed her fingers down Regina’s breasts.
“This body wants yours, did you know that? You have a secret admirer.”
Rosanna gaped, flashing back to memories of Regina. How could she have missed the signs? Regina had always been kind and helpful to her, but she had thought that was just a natural part of her personality, in the same way that being a cranky bitch was a part of Brenda’s. She spent an awful lot of her time chasing men, too. The discovery that this wasn’t the case blew her mind. Regina… was bisexual? Had Regina made a pass at Brenda? Was that why they hated each other so much?
Mistress backed her up against the cafeteria table, forcing her to sit down. The Tentacle behind her grabbed her plate to avoid having her fruit scattered all over the table for a second time, moving to give them some more room.
Mistress slid one hand down Rosanna’s body, caressing one hip before moving to massage the tip of Rosanna’s clitoral hood. She swirled her fingers in a circular pattern, exposing Rosanna’s clitoris. She pinched the end of it lightly, sparking an involuntary convulsion in Rosanna’s body.
“Commanding a Tentacle is more difficult before they have been podded,” stated the Mistress. “As you can see, however, even that is not beyond my boundless mental capacity. It is but child’s play to split my consciousness to control many of my servants at the same time.”
Rosanna found herself unable to move from her position, locked in place as Regina’s fingers worked to pleasure her. She rested in the cool stillness of her Mistress, the tentacle in her brain rooting further into her consciousness. Losing control was intoxicating and she was on the verge of a climax almost before she knew it.
“Now, my slave, cum. Cum for your Mistress.”
Rosanna came, bucking against Regina’s fingers. The tentacle flexed in her brain, tendrils of pleasure sparking through her neurons. She bit her lip, riding the waves of stimulation which had seized her body in their grip.
She gasped, sweat beading her brow. Her muscles were boneless, body sated. “That was freaking amazing!” she declared. The arms of her octopus wiggled in the air, showing off their approval.
“I will let you in on a little secret,” said the Mistress. “This feels even better after you have been podded.”
Rosanna’s eyes widened. She breathed hard, wondering how that could be possible. This was pretty damn good already. She had no reason to doubt the Mistress, Good thought, but if it was any better than what she had just experienced she couldn’t imagine wanting to do anything else all day.
“Happy slaves are productive slaves,” Mistress murmured, reinforcing her thoughts.
From a side passage came the distinct clopping sound of hooves striking against the hard floor. Mistress smiled at Rosanna’s surprised expression, watching warmly as a line of the goat-like animals marched into the room.
The other women sitting at the table turned and sat, lifting their legs in unison. The curious quadrupeds whuffed, running up to them and sniffing their privates.
Rosanna gulped. It was her turn. Right here, on this cheap plastic table. The hard corner pressed against her ass, deadening her enthusiasm.
One of the last remaining animals sidled up to her position, nosing at her thigh. Regina chuckled, stroking her snatch. “Are you ready?” she asked. “The first time is always the most exciting.”
Rosanna looked down her nose, equal parts excited and dismayed. The animal whuffed, its thick appendage starting to grow from its mouth as it became more aroused. This was really going to happen.
“I feel weird,” Rosanna declared. “I’m about to be fucked by a goat creature and pumped full of octopus eggs. Does this seem strange to anyone?”
Regina smiled. “It’s only strange if you make it that way. This is something beautiful. You have to experience it to understand.”
“Just relax and let it in. It wants to give you its bounty. To fill you to capacity with My eggs.”
Rosanna mumbled, knowing she didn’t have much of a choice. Mistress swirled her tongue over Regina’s lips. “If it makes you feel any better, Regina really wants this, too.”
No, it really didn’t help. She stared in alarm as the animal’s ovipositor continued to grow, the girth widening at an alarming rate. Would that thing really fit into her?
The being that wore Regina jerked her legs apart. “Don’t be a baby, I got you off once so you’re already lubricated. You just need to relax and let it do its thing.”
The rounded end of the tube probed at her hole, and she tensed up. Regina smacked her thigh, making her jump.
“It can smell your fear. It wants to stick its tube in your vagina, but if you tense up too much, you’re going to have an uncomfortable time.”
Mistress seized her shoulder with Regina’s body. “Listen to me. You can’t worry too much about this. It’s going to happen whether or not you want it to, so your best option is to make it as pleasurable as possible.”
Rosanna gulped. “I know that. I even want this. I want to be a mother for Your children. But I can’t stop my body from being afraid.”
“Hmm, if I seize your entire body, you won’t learn to enjoy this at all. Look at my fingers. ”
Rosanna breathed quickly, almost hyperventilating. As commanded, she looked at the slender hand presented to her, fingers wiggling to attract her attention. “Forget about your anxious thoughts and listen to me. I am in command. Follow these fingers, they’re dropping, they’re wiggling.”
She dipped her hand down until her wiggling fingers were right in front of the quadruped. She took her hand away, exposing the excited animal. The tube extending from its mouth had swelled up, the rod pressing against her vulva. She swallowed hard
Regina spread her hand out, hiding the protuberance. “Now, look closely at its eye. Look deeper. The Drogon wants you to feel good. It wants you to be filled.”
Rosanna did as she was told, falling into the circle of cerulean blue. Her brain twisted, coated in the color. The tentacle swirled inside her, obedience asserting itself. She was a breeder mother. She would take these eggs and birth them for Her. The eggs she carried would make more breeders, spreading Her will to other worlds, making the galaxy a happy, Wet place to exist.
The wash of ocean waves was in her ears. The long rod of the quadruped sank inside, her butt sinking as she welcomed its length. The tube swelled, forcing her vaginal cavity wider. Her muscles clenched around the tube, the friction from its presence causing an explosion of pleasure in her mind.
The tube pulsed, a large object pressing against her nether lips. She shifted her hips forward, pressing against the ovipositor. The animal whuffed, a snort of pressure jamming an egg against her cervix. Her pelvis clenched around the oval shape, accepting the egg inside her as the inexorable pressure mounted.
The egg pushed hard at her cervix, slowly but surely dilating it large enough to accept the foreign object. As it pressed through the opening, she groaned, the muscle only reluctantly giving in, squeezing shut as the first egg barreled its way through. The second egg proved to be just as difficult as the first, the stubborn opening bottlenecking the thick pipeline of eggs stacking up within her vagina.
The Drogon whuffed and pushed itself in further, jacking its implantation tube into her cervix as the next egg dilated the opening. When it was far enough in, the muscles of the ovipositor were strong enough to counteract the squeezing force of her cervix. Blocked open, there was a clear path for the Drogon to feed the eggs straight into her uterus.
Rosanna’s eyes widened. The pain of dilation was giving way to a warm flow and tickling sensation as the Drogon pulsed its ovipositor. As time went on, she started to feel delightfully full.
Regina smiled, placing her fingertips on Rosanna’s clit, playing with the bud. Rosanna’s face flushed red, her breath chuffing as stimulation brought her close to a second orgasm. The Drogon whuffed, pushing at full power, its distended belly decreasing in circumference as her own was filled to the brim. She sat still, afraid that if she moved the ovipositor holding her open would shift. If that happened, it might fire out of her vagina backwards, spitting eggs onto the floor. Not only would that be a huge mess, she wouldn’t forgive herself if any of her Mistress’ offspring were destroyed due to her actions.
The spell of the Drogon’s eye had been broken, but she no longer found it necessary to drown her tension in the endlessly cool depths of its gaze. She became aware of a strange hum coming from the other podded humanoids. She looked around, surprised to find the others cuddling their Drogons as they were pumped full of eggs. The faceless, podded women were voicing their approval, pleased at helping Mistress to accomplish Her goal. Rosanna admired their ability to take the huge quantities of eggs without complaint. She found herself humming along, looking with pride on how many eggs the Drogon had stuffed into her.
All good things must come to an end, however, and soon all of the oblong eggs the Drogon carried had been implanted inside her. It snorted, a cool blast of liquid rushing to fill all the cavities between the fist sized eggs. Whuffing with excitement, the Drogon’s appendage withdrew, her cervix slamming shut to prevent any eggs from escaping. The long tube slipped out of her snatch, its slimy surface sliding against her thighs.
“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it? Look at you, you’re well on your way to becoming a mother!”
Rosanna rubbed a hand over her belly, delighted at how full she felt. There were so many eggs stacked inside that she could feel some of their roundness from the exterior of her belly. She was completely packed with the alien young, surprised at how many she could carry.
“The Drogons are necessary for breeding now, but podded slaves are capable of gestating their own eggs. It’s not as efficient, since for podded humans, both male and female slaves are required for reproduction. Still, I’m sure there will be sufficient podded slaves to keep the cycle going. Eventually, you’ll all be breeding each other, in a self-perpetuating cycle! Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”
A funny smile was pasted to Rosanna’s face. “Yes, that does sounds wonderful,” she exclaimed, her brain blasted by the all hormones released from the breeding. Despite how good she felt, one thing was still bothering her. “You have so many slaves… what makes me special? Why are you spending so much time with me?”
Regina spread her legs, sitting back on the table as another Drogon approached, its belly dragging against the floor, gravid with eggs. A shadow passed over her face. “You might find this hard to credit, but it does get a bit lonely being the ultimate authority over everything. Every time I’ve tried to reach out before, I’ve been injured. Parts of me have been destroyed, made Dry.”
Her face turned stolid. “No, the only solution is to make everything Wet, like me.” She flashed a smile at Rosanna. “You’ll understand soon, once you’ve been podded. Being Wet is exciting.”
The thick ovipositor of her Drogon slipped inside her and she grunted. She shifted her body forward, helping the animal to slide it in as far as it would go. “There’s an art to being bred,” she said conversationally. A bulge pushed up the tube into her vagina. “If you thrust down hard right as the egg arrives at your cervix, your breeder can push in farther, faster, and you can avoid that first egg pain. I suggest you try it on your next breeding attempt.”
The Drogon pumped at her, the eggs sliding into her snatch smoothly. She licked her lips and cupped her breasts, smiling as she was filled. “I must confess I like to visit a breeding Tentacle every so often,” explained the Mistress. “I don’t get to breed that often myself, so it’s a guilty pleasure to borrow a slave to experience what they’re feeling. There’s nothing quite like being filled to the brim with my offspring.”
Rosanna grimaced at the turn of phrase. It sounded far too much like incest. “Oh, don’t be a prude,” replied the Mistress, picking up on her distaste. “You quickly learn that those sorts of taboos don’t mean as much when you can mind hop.”
Rosanna watched without remarking, jealous of Regina’s apparent pleasure. Yes, her own filling had been rather pleasurable, but now she was feeling a bit bloated, not really feeling up to more fucking.
A familiar tone sounded from the other end of the hall. A tinkling sound that heralded an incoming communique. She looked up, curious.
“Are you going to pick that up?” Regina slid her hips further down on the Drogon, taking it all the way in. The eggs were picking up speed now, her belly rising at breakneck speed. She seemed disinterested in whatever was making the sound.
Interest piqued, Rosanna stood and walked around the cafeteria table, waddling down the row of new mothers. The podded women were laying on their backs, hands rubbing at their red bellies. Their legs dangled off the table, pert breasts pointed at the ceiling. Rosanna wished nothing more than to lay down and join them, but the annoying tune of the communicator drew her onward.
Sitting at the end of the last table were her personal gadgets, the communicator, her pistol, and a bag of target directors. An octopus arm slid from her shoulder, the wet sucker picking up the comm and bringing it to her hands. Having six extra arms was turning out to be highly convenient.
She snapped the device on, hearing the tinny voice of her former captain through the speaker. “Lieutenant Rosanna, are you there? Pick up if you can hear me!”
This would be her best opportunity to betray the Mistress, if she wanted to. Bad thought It would hurt really badly, but she almost thought for a brief moment that she would be capable of doing it. Bad thought Telling the captain what was happening to them. That they were being podded, turned into inhuman creatures subservient to their octopus Mistress. Good thought
The tentacle churned in her head. It was probably artificial, but she found herself sympathizing with the octopus’ plight. She hadn’t asked to be lonely, to be hurt or destroyed by outsiders. She only wanted them to love her. Good thought She only wanted to avoid becoming Dry. Good thought
She never really had a choice, after all.
“Yes, captain, Rosanna here. I’ve been busy, sorry I couldn’t get back to you sooner. It’s been going… okay. The aliens have invited us to lunch, as it were. I’m not sure I could describe to you exactly what it is they’re eating.”
“Keep up the good work, but you won’t have to do it for much longer,” replied Roger. “The relief team is almost there. I expect them to arrive in about fifteen minutes, and they will need an escort to your location.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Rosanna, simply. The relief team, once podded, would be a key part of their strategy to take over the ship. She looked forward to introducing her friend Sally to a Drogon.
“We’re with the aliens in a cave, sir. The location is a little difficult to find. We’ll come out to escort them in shortly.”
“I will advise them. Roger, out.”
That wasn’t a lot of time to prepare. Most of the podded Tentacles here were far too out of it to support her in dealing with the landing party. She wasn’t exactly in a state to capture anyone herself. She chuckled at the thought of tackling one of the expedition guards with her enlarged belly. What if Mistress didn’t have a suitable plan to capture them? Bad thought
She creased her eyes. She needed to have faith. Mistress would take care of them. Good thought Mistress would make sure the Dry would become Wet. Good thought They would be podded and become additional Tentacles for Mistress’ army. Good thought
The good thoughts stroked at her pussy, fanning her delight. She had betrayed the captain, and it felt so good. Good thought They were all going to be captured and podded, made to serve their Mistress, and filled with her offspring. Good thought They would all be her slaves, ensuring her survival for eons to come. How many offspring could she birth as a pod slave? She couldn’t wait to find out.