The Doctor can see the tiny, pink star of her asshole, her small cunt under it. She’s so close that he can watch when she clenches, the muscles in the area tightening. He leans against the glass, overcome with lust. A part of him craves to see the alien go further, press a long, large tentacle against one of Agnes’ holes and push in. Is he a bad man for it? He wonders.
That’s a pointless inquiry, he tells himself. There’s nothing he can do to help her, whatever comes next isn’t on him. If he happens to enjoy it, there’s no harm in that.
Something old and primal drives it. Deep, unknowable. Its kind survives, yes, but they can reproduce as well, under the right conditions. It holds in its tentacles the perfect, right condition. If only it can fill her up. Open her, probe her insides, leave behind the seed needed to make more of itself. The hole on top seems wrong, it tests that and finds sharpness there.
Hostile, no. Under, between soft thighs, there’s such warmth, such slick smoothness. Exactly what it likes. But it searches and searches, probes and pokes. The wetness must come from somewhere, it understands enough to know this is the little creature’s reproductive organ, but an entrance to her body can’t be found there.
Agnes clenches as tightly as she can when she feels tentacles touching her there, she remembers reading about women who can contract their vaginal muscles so hard they can only be penetrated if they allow it, and so she focuses on that and tries not to panic even as the creature keeps rubbing her clitoris by mistake, and oh- why does it feel so good? No, no, not there, please- fuck, it feels, no-
But there it is, just a little back, unmistakable. The creature would squeal with happiness if it could. It finds an entrance, warm, smooth, not quite as slick, but that can be fixed. The little human thrashes violently in its hold, but a couple more tentacles hold her in place easily as it explores that tiny hole, closed up by a ring of muscles that must be pushed open. It uses the very tip of its smallest tentacle first, spreading slick there, testing the resistance.
It feels the vibrations as the human opens her mouth, screams. It doesn’t care. All that matters is how utterly warm this little being feels inside. With the tip of a tentacle breaching that welcoming whole, the alien now knows its purpose perfectly. Fill her up, as deep as possible, take advantage of all her soft, hot insides. It gets to it, gleefully.
The Doctor’s mouth is gaping in befuddlement, his cock throbbing to the rhythm of his heart, the alien’s smallest tentacle – which is still thicker than his forearm and thrice as long – is starting to breach Agnes’ ass. The girl is screaming, crying, clearly in pain and terrified. Why does that make it hotter? Why does that make it harder for him to resist the urge to rub his erection? He can’t tear his eyes away. Even scream so pretty. It’s her fault, it has to be…
No, no, no, it hurts! Please, no, stop, please, please, oh my god, it’s going in. Can’t he see it doesn’t fit? Please! Someone help, please! It burns, it’s so slick but it burns, that’s too big, too big- toobigtoobigtoobig!
Agnes hollers so loud that everyone watching is startled into taking a step away from the glass. Her pretty, cute face is twisted in agony, wet with tears, mouth open in a ‘o’, releasing loud and low, pained, pitiful cries. The Doctor watches in morbid fascination. The alien is trying to penetrate her anus. It wants to be inside of her, and it doesn’t care about the anatomical incompatibility. The slick dripping from the tentacle is visible, plentiful. The creature managed to insert the tip, but the tentacle tapers off sharply, and the bulk of its thickness doesn’t seem like it can go in.
Two tentacles wrap around Agnes’ arms, one around her clavicle, another around her waist. With all of those holding her firmly in place, the alien forces the girl’s tiny body down onto the tentacle trying to penetrate her. It works. She screams herself raw, the Doctor watches, fascinated, as an impossible amount of the length of the alien’s tentacle disappears inside her body, at least 12 inches, he guesses. It must be pure agony. His balls clench at the sight.
The creature begins thrusting in and out of her in a fast, punishing pace. Agnes cries out when it’s in deep, and pitifully whimpers when it has pulled out. The Doctor leans against the glass again. Two minutes in, he comes in his trousers like a teenager, without touching himself at all, to the sight of his intern being raped by a non-humanoid, tentacled monster. Not even he can justify that, if there’s a God, it will be straight to hell for him.
Might as well enjoy the show. The creature is not slowing down. *
Agnes loses all sense of time. All she knows is the drag of the creature’s cock in and out of her. Yes, it’s some kind of penis, of that her fractured brain is sure. She noticed it was spurting something thicker than the natural, surface slime that coats the alien’s skin. With each thrust, it fills her up with whatever gooey, foreign liquid it is. Her insides feel bruised, stretched to their limit, pumped full. She isn’t sure she’s human anymore. Thinking has become impossibly hard. There must be some kind of psychoactive in his fluids. Agnes knows she must be in shock, too overwhelmed to be coherent, but there are other things, ones which are harder to explain.
Like, why is her pussy burning? Dripping slick? Why is she now clenching around the member impaling her, raping her, out of arousal?
It hurtshurtshurtshurts-so good, good, yes, oh, fu-fuck, hurts so good, so deep, why, deepinside- hurts-imma-oh, OH!
When she orgasms, it’s like an out-of-body experience. So intense it can’t be described. Her whole body seizes for what feels like hours, pleasure that borders on torturous, heightened somehow by the agony in her plundered loins. In its wake, a fully formed thought pops in her mind.
Will there be an end? …
Do I want there to be?
***
Please comment with your ideas of different stories that could happen with Agnes!