Uncharted Pleasures #WickedWednesday

Just take some soil samples, they said.

It’ll be easy, they said.

The air was breathable on the alien planet, which was lucky because halfway through filling her first test tube, her oxygen supply had been wrecked. The bubblegum pink suction cups had come out of nowhere, latched onto her helmet, ripped it off and flung it away.

She might have been scared, but the planet’s atmosphere also had a pretty high nitrous oxide content. Instead, she felt giddy. Floaty. Dreamlike and flying high.

Every breath left her head spinning deliciously, her glasses askew as she watched the tentacle slither toward her. Her toppled test tubes and extraction kit laid scattered around her, already forgotten. She knew she should recoiled when the tentacle reached out to stroke the boot of her space suit, but the instead the nitrous left her feeling euphoric. The suction cups along its bottom sucked against the boot’s ankle, released and climbed upward. She knew she should have tried to scamble away from it as it wound its way up her leg. Maybe it was the scientist in her. Maybe it was way If she had thought to scream, she might have– but there wouldn’t have been anyone to hear it, anyway. The planet was supposed to be totally uninhabited.

Apparently, the tentacle currently curling around her upper thigh hadn’t gotten the memo.

It ripped the bottom half of her suit away like it was pulling apart cotton candy. Four thousand dollars of high tech protective synthetics, ruined just like that. The sensor in her ear was beeping frantically, alerting her to the danger of being so exposed, but it seemed so secondary to the way the planet’s sun warmed her tanned calves, her bare thighs. The heat between her legs.. well, that was all her own. She was wet, she realized, and she couldn’t tell whether that was because of the nitrous or because of the way the tentacle returned to her– this time, with a friend.

They tickled their way up her legs, suction cups kissing her skin gently like twin lovers. She found herself bound by them as they wrapped around the thickness of her thighs and flexed tight. No escape– not even if she wanted to. She didn’t. Her clit radiated with longing, pulsing along with her heart beat. She was aching to be touched, and every breath only made that wanting worse.

The next tentacle to appear over the edge of the rockface were full of rough promise. The first shot out demandingly and tore away the front of her suit, revealing her breasts. She’d been effectively stripped by them, she realized– all of her most delicate parts bared for the taking. When it had rid her of the last barrier between her breasts and the warm alien air, it snaked behind her, binding her arms together tight. To her delight, she found herself lifted up off of the ground and suspended in the air, chest pushed out garishly, legs spread.

Tied and helpless, she watched two more tentacles pop over the edge of the cliff. Her nipples, hard and taunt and throbbing, were their targets. These tentacles lacked the suction cups of the others she’d encountered so far. Instead, they ended in two bulbs that hovered over her tender pink areola. The blubs opened up to reveal several rows of dull teeth that latched onto her nipples viciously. There was a desperate suction to them and a gentle bite that sent sensation coursing through her nervous system. The pleasure and pain were practically indiscernible, irrevocably bound to one another.

She was brimming with the need to be filled now, so badly she could feel it in the roots of her teeth.

When the final tentacle appeared, she couldn’t just blame it on the euphoria of the air she was breathing anymore. She wanted it. Desperately. The thin line separating want from need had dissolved in the wetness between her legs, even as the tentacles holding her thighs spread them wider and the teeth at her nipples twisted them until she was moaning in delicious agony.

The last tentacle was slick and streamlined. It left a warm gooeyness on her inner thigh as it stroked her, almost lovingly, before sliding between her pussylips and pressing in. She whimpered for it as it expanded inside of her, adjusting its thickness to fill her tight. The sensation was surreal. She had never been filled so thoroughly, so comfortably. It fit her like it had been made to, pressing up against her g-spot so hard she was spasming in moments, gasping, bright colors all around as it brought her to orgasm, the sounds of her own pleasure amplified by the atmospheric high.

At some point, she passed out.

When she awoke, she was inside her spaceship again, a thick creamy wetness between her legs that tasted of hazelnuts and vanilla. Her test tubes had been filled with soil and carefully lined up in their holders on her console. She was naked, but wrapped gently in a soft blanket from the ship’s bunk.

She almost didn’t believe it had happened at all as she set her coordinates for homebase and prepared to launch. But as she looked down at her wrists, her forearms, her thighs, she knew it had been more than just a dream. The tentacles had left their mark on her, purple hickies from the suction cups marking every few inches of her skin, bruised reminders of the greatest pleasure she had ever know.

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This has been a Wicked Wednesday post and my first foray into the weird world of tentacle porn. Wicked Wednesday is on Week #183, brought to you by the delectable and most admirable Marie Rebelle of Rebel’s Notes. As for me, this is week #3. Check out the other entries and drop me a comment or something 😉 xox