Probed
Chapter 9 — Close Encounters
The dark room was too small, and swelteringly hot. That was the first thing resembling a thought that Ben cobbled together.
He looked around for his alarm clock, then realized where he was. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed-device, he became fully aware of the erection between them, bouncing in time with his racing pulse. No matter how deeply the rest of his mind and body felt like they were submerged in molasses, that one part of him announced itself with insistent clarity. His suit was gone; when he found his feet and stepped out of his room, Ben was clad only in a collar and a sheen of sweat.
Gotta... gotta clear my head...
Half-formed images and emotions swirled just beyond his grasp, not quite releasing him to full wakefulness. It was in this state that he half-stumbled, half-floated into the common room. It was empty and dimly lit; it must have still been “night” in their prison. From there, he sought out the amenities room.
Bracing himself against the back wall of the room with one hand, Ben almost started to wonder where the shower was. Before he could finish the mental question, hot water cascaded down onto him, washing away the sweat, but not the ethereal weightlessness stubbornly clinging to his mind. It was too hard to make it go away, so he let it linger, let it draw him gently back toward sleep. Cries of ecstasy mingled with the white noise of the shower, but they didn’t sound quite real. Maybe he was imagining them. Or maybe he was remembering them. It didn’t seem worth the effort to figure out the difference right now.
Ben’s free hand drifted to his cock, wrapping around the hard shaft without him even realizing it. It was too difficult to fight his stubborn arousal, and all too easy to let go and allow it to guide his movements and shape his thoughts. In his imagination, it was Sixteen’s hand jerking him: he could almost picture its white and black segments gripping him, moving up and down with clockwork precision. The memory bled gently into a fantasy, threatening to drag him back into his dreams.
He moaned.
Trish heard the sound from outside. Like Ben, she’d been startled awake by something she could no longer fully remember. And also like Ben, she’d found herself naked, perspiring, and not quite able to shake away the cobwebs and fully awaken.
If only she could remember whether it was a wet dream or a nightmare she’d been having. Waking up in the fetal position, in a jittery, anxious mood, suggested the latter. The slippery mess on the bed and between her thighs begged to differ.
She was way too groggy and horny to attempt to reconcile them. And hot too. She needed water. It was already running when she shambled into the amenities room.
“Huh... Ben?”
Droplets were flung in every direction as his head whipped around. With an intensity she’d never seen from him, his gaze locked onto her in the doorway, and scanned from her messy slit to her stiff nipples to her expression of astonishment.
It was so surreal, to be standing there, naked, defenseless, with Ben just boring into her with his eyes. The gentleman who tried so hard not to ogle her ass in the tent was nowhere to be seen. When his body turned toward her, she caught sight of just exactly what she’d walked in on.
“Oh, uh, s-sorry...” she blurted lamely. This is awkward.
Not that she was embarrassed by the mutual nudity. She spent way too much time in locker rooms for that. Nor was it the masturbation. Hell, at camp, she’d been the one to suggest he go blow off steam outside the tent. But she really didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. If she stood there much longer, the poor guy might think she got off on people admiring well-toned body.
Well, I do, but... it’d be cruel to sit here and tease him with something he’s got no shot at getting.
So why wasn’t she leaving? Somehow, the impetus to turn and walk away simply never manifested in her groggy brain. Despite herself, she looked down...
Ben stopped stroking himself, but he was still holding his cock at the base, pointing it straight at the intruder. For a while, neither said anything; the only sound was the steady patter of the shower.
What’s she doing here? he wondered. Trish walked in on him jerking off. He could chalk that up to an accident. Humiliating, sure, but they were a bunch of college students forced into close quarters without much clothing between them. It was bound to happen.
But why was Trish still standing there? She was nude, clearly. Even in the gloom, he could tell she was physically excited. And she was staring at him with this weird...
Is she checking out my cock?
He’d almost forgotten he was still holding it, and how hard it still was. Almost. He let it go, ignoring its protests for now. He needed to figure out what was going on. There was no way a naked, horny Trish would be eyeing his manhood. Not even in his wildest-
Fuck, I’m dreaming.
The realization gave Ben a sudden clarity. It all fit. The floaty sense of surreality. The appearance of an attractive friend, right when he was looking for relief. The lesbian gaping at the one part of him she should have no interest in whatsoever.
A lucid dream was the only explanation. Which meant there wouldn’t be any consequences for anything he might do here. His cock twitched, congratulating him for figuring it all out.
Trish sensed the shift as well. The subtle straightening of his posture, and the tiny smirk forming on his lip. A shiver ran down her spine. Ooookay, that’s enough awkward silence for me. Better get out of here.
As if she only now remembered how, she turned to leave.
Ben chuckled. He wanted her to stay, and it was his dream, so she was going to stay. He’d never really had a lucid dream before, but there had to be some muscle he could flex to make that happen. He focused his intent as best he could, willing her not to leave. The mental exertion left his scalp prickling.
“Stop.”
For an instant, the dim illumination of the simulated night cycle tinged green. Trish’s stride faltered, then froze mid-step. Wha... What’s... Nngh, no...
It wasn’t like the other times, when the aliens had done it. Not exactly. When they used the collar, Trish’s whole brain was dunked in emerald emptiness. No warning. No time to put up a defense. No emotions to complicate the experience, at least until afterward. Just thoughtless obedience.
This was worse. She could feel her agency draining away in real time, disappearing by degrees like the hot water of the shower. Her heart raced even as her body ground to a halt. It was terrifying.
And thrilling.
“Turn around,” came the voice behind her.
Oh god... ohgawdogawdogawd... please... n-no... But her body obeyed, and Trish tried so very hard to pretend it didn’t make her even wetter than she’d already been.
“Come here.”
She fought it. Her legs trembled with every step, and she was sure it was from her struggle against her traitorous limbs. Not for any other reason. When she reached the spot right in front of him, the most volition she could muster was to look up and plead with her eyes.
It certainly looked like pleading to Ben. Everything about her seemed to be begging him, and he was more than eager to give dream-Trish what she wanted. This is what lucid dreaming is like, huh? I gotta do this more often!
Unashamed to be treating her like an object, he circled around, gently pushing her through the cascading water and against the smooth wall. The rivulets of water accentuated every defined muscle, and made her nipples even harder.
Ben had always known Trish was hot. He wasn’t blind, after all. But it was always in that kind of way where a guy could acknowledge it from a distance, but then move on because he didn’t have a chance in hell. Of course, Ben felt that way about a lot of the hot girls he met, but there was also the little matter of Trish being gay. Lusting after her for their entire friendship would have been a textbook exercise in futility, only serving to make things weird when they hung out.
But if this was all just a sexy dream, where was the harm? The real Trish would never know. There was a good chance he wouldn’t even remember it after he woke up. He could do whatever he wanted. He was in control.
He wanted the water to stop, and so it did. The room was still steamy and dim. Beads of water sparkled on both their bodies like glittering stars, vanishing into the surface of the floor as they fell. For a moment, the room was quiet except for two heavy breaths, and the patter of the last few heavy droplets.
“Relax,” he said with a confidence that he barely recognized coming from himself. “You’re going to enjoy this.”
Trish shuddered. S-Since when did Ben get so... assertive?
The Ben from Earth was always stuttering and blushing around the girls he liked. He was polite and respectful and always second-guessing his own intentions. This Ben was locked onto Trish like some kind of smoldering, hunky terminator. This Ben wasn’t going to hesitate. He wasn’t going to ask. He was going to take what he wanted, and Trish wasn’t going to be able to stop him. He was going to...
Oh... oh Gawd! He’s gonna... fuck me...
A needy whimper escaped her throat as she realized, beyond any doubt, that this was really happening. What shocked her most, however, was how much she wanted it. Craved it.
It was impossible. She was out and proud. A true blue, gold star, pussy-destroying child of Sappho. She turned gay girls on, turned straight girls curious, and turned both into quivering piles of satisfaction when they inevitably gave her the chance. An unstoppable lesbian ladykiller. That was who she was.
And yet the closer Ben got with his hard, masculine body and big, raging cock, the more she yearned for it. For him.
It’s... It’s the aliens. It’s gotta be... They must’a done somethin’... Made me... me...
But that excuse rang hollow in Trish’s mind. Maybe those bugs had knocked something loose, with their pulsating, probing tongues. Maybe. But it was something that had already been there. Maybe it had always been there, and she’d ignored it, or mistaken for something else.
She couldn’t ignore it now. The collar had dissolved all her defenses. It had left her empty of her own headstrong willpower, and exposed the confusing, overwhelming desires beneath. Trish trembled, trapped and exposed between the cool wall against her back and Ben’s hot, hungry gaze pinning her in place.
He stepped closer. His manly scent made her dizzy, and his cock prodded her stomach. Warm breath tickled her cheek, and he lifted her chin. Their lips met.
The kiss was, in a word, disorienting. So good, in some ways that were familiar, and others that were strange and new and exciting. By the time they parted, Trish was panting.
Ben didn’t waste any time. He planted another kiss, this time on her neck, then her collarbone, and lower. Her tits got a bit more attention; of his friends, Trish’s chest was the smallest, but still enough for him to knead and savor in his hands.
Her gasps and mewls soon urged him further downward. Now kneeling, Ben delighted to find her legs already parting, responding to his intent. The pussy before him glistened in invitation.
Don’t just dive right in. Despite being flustered at the time, Ben remembered Trish’s little lesson back in the tent, what seemed like a million years ago. Firm but gentle. Tease a little. Stroke her thighs, her stomach, draw some circles around the main course.
The real Trish might never know, but he was going to show dream-Trish how closely he’d paid attention.
The first time she heard it, Sophie’s heart had leaped into her throat.
The second time, she froze in indecision. There was no mistaking that she’d heard a strangled cry, and that it had come from the amenities room.
When she had started awake, breathless and drenched, Sophie had hoped she was the only one up. She needed to cool off and clean herself before she’d have any chance of getting back to sleep. The only problem was her suit had vanished in the night, and showed no sign of returning. If anyone were in the common room, they’d catch her darting to the showers, naked and disheveled, and she’d probably just die on the spot.
Fretting and agonizing until she couldn’t take it anymore, she poked her head outside. Mercifully, the chamber was dim and deserted. And silent enough that, halfway to her destination, a feminine yelp echoed strangely against the alien-made walls and into her ears.
A hundred scenarios flashed through her imagination, each more terrifying than the last. Had their captors come under cover of darkness and swept one of her friends into the amenities room for some late-night experiments? Was one of them being ravished right now, a few paces from her sleeping fellows? What would they do if they found Sophie stumbling upon them?
Those thoughts were banished, though, as she crept closer and heard a third sound.
A masculine moan.
Of course. Jenna and Max. Sophie’s dread instantly deflated into burning embarrassment. It had been pretty clear that the happy couple had no plans to go right to sleep when everyone had bedded down. Are they already bored of having sex in their own rooms?
On second thought, it wasn’t really too surprising. Jenna always seemed to get a thrill out of making out with Max in full view of everyone, and their tent was far from the only place they’d tried and failed to hide a quickie during a group outing. The risk of getting caught fooling around in the middle of the night, in the room where everyone had to go for water and toilets, was undoubtedly heightening the act.
Acknowledging their exhibitionist tendencies didn’t stop Sophie from huffing. Did they really need something else to spice things up in this alien sex-dungeon? They were using a public place for private fun, and now she’d either have to go to bed a sticky mess, or try again later. She turned to leave, calculating which option would lead her back into fitful slumber more quickly.
“Haaah! B-Ben!”
That wasn’t Jenna’s voice. That wasn’t Max’s name. Louder and clearer than the others, Sophie could tell it had come from Trish, but the next logical step wouldn’t follow. It was absurd.
Morbid curiosity roiled up from her subconscious like distant thunder. Shivering heat surged out of her core, with a strength so sudden it was like it had already been there, and she simply hadn’t seen it for what it was. Her limbs moved despite her, bringing her to the edge of the doorway, and Sophie peeked inside.
Work around it. Tease. Caress.
Instinct guided Ben’s hands as much as the memory of Trish’s instructions. Her body’s reactions taught his tongue where to go, what to repeat, and when to try something new.
Work the hood. Slowly pick up the pressure and pace. Take your time. Marathon, not a sprint...
Well... perhaps that last part didn’t apply so much anymore. The foreplay had served its purpose, as the juice dripping from his chin attested, and Ben’s patience had run out. Rising the same way he’d descended, he kissed a path back up her tensing abdomen.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured, once again at his full height, his manhood resting against her belly. “I’ll be gentle.”
Even if this was all a dream, it was still this phantasm’s first time with a man. He wanted it to be special.
Trish gave a tiny nod and a plaintive whimper of assent. The commanding intensity in his eyes was tempered by a glimmer of tenderness. It reassured her, told her that he wouldn’t hurt her, no matter what. The collar prevented her from saying no anyway, so she didn’t try. She had forgotten to want to try.
Then the swarthy Adonis guided his tip to her entrance, and pushed in. True to his word, his first thrust was slow, penetrating her millimeter by millimeter. Her teeth clenched. Her eyes squeezed shut. Her toes curled. A high-pitched squeal of pleasure escaped her as Ben, with inexorable care, sank into her thankful pussy.
No toy could compare. Not even the honey-slick tongues of the bugs had filled her so delightfully. The second thrust was just as good, and faster. After the third, she was in no state to count.
“Nnnngh! Oh fuck oh fuckohfuck, Ben! Please... Aaah!”
One strong hand hooked under her knee, lifting her leg up to improve his angle, while the other gripped her ass for leverage. Deep within, she could feel him throbbing harder every time he plunged into her, and even without experience, she knew what that meant. It was all Trish could do to throw her arms around Ben’s neck and bury her face in his chest, lest her wanton moans attract any unwanted attention.
Ben didn’t share her modesty. It felt so right to be in the lead, so perfect to take charge. To take Trish. Why should he hold back? Worrying about waking the others was nothing compared to how powerful he felt right then.
Besides, it didn’t matter how much noise you made in a dream anyway.
“Holy shit,” he grunted, exhilarated, “This is amazing! This is so... good... so fuckin’ good!”
“Pleasepleaseplease,” Trish babbled back. “Oh fuck, oh Ben, please!”
It was impossible for Trish to articulate what she was really begging for. The words were too treasonous to make from her throat to her lips. But she needed it badly. If she didn’t get it, she would turn inside out and burst into flames.
She didn’t have to wait long.
“Trish! Oh fuck, I’m gonna... I’m gonna...”
Sophie wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. It wasn’t fair!
Trish was already so fit and pretty and confident. She could fuck any girl she wanted. As of yesterday, she had fucked every girl she’d ever wanted. So why did she get Ben, too? Why did she get to be crushed up against the wall by his perfect body, both of them sweaty and heaving, with that big, beautiful—God, so fucking beautiful—cock shoving into her defenseless pussy?
Sophie bit her lip to stay silent as her fingers worked furiously at her own slit. She wanted to be angry and betrayed. To rail against Trish for switching sides just to take what Sophie had always wanted. To howl at Ben for ignoring the feelings he had no way of knowing about.
Instead, she was jilling herself to the brink by watching him slam that amazing cock into their hot, lesbian friend... dominating her so utterly, so naturally... forcing Trish to lose her mind with pleasure...
Sophie came as they did, clamping a hand tight over her mouth and trying to force her cries of ecstasy to coincide with theirs.
“Hnnng! Hnnhnn...”
When the spots cleared from her vision, the wallflower was briefly mesmerized by the aftermath. Trish had slid to the ground, dazed, the very picture of “fucked senseless.” Her legs were splayed wide and her cunt overflowed with Ben’s seed. It was so rich and white and thick... Sophie could just crawl over there... put her face between Trish’s thighs...
A sudden hiss of water broke the spell. Ben was rinsing off, and Sophie was more naked and disheveled than ever. She quickly pulled her head out of the doorway, scampered off to her room, and flopped onto her bed with a whine. Despite the orgasm, she felt no relief, and certainly no closer to a restful sleep. Only a roil of confusion, shame, hurt and lingering arousal.
And the uncanny sensation of being watched.