by Lizzy Bequin
But what would it take to complete her transformation, as Vorne had said.
With a grunt, Xalleus stroked his member backward until his tip was pressed to Corrie’s already filled entrance. He nudged his cockhead against Vorne’s shaft and started pressing inside too.
“Oh God,” Corrie gasped breathlessly. “Xalleus, you can’t. It won’t fit.”
“He can’t understand you,” Vorne chuckled.
“Then you tell him,” Corrie begged.
“No. You need this. You know you do.”
Need this? Corrie wasn’t sure she would even survive it. One thick alien cock was enough. Two seemed like it might split her apart. But she couldn’t struggle. Her limbs were still weak, and Vorne had her clamped tightly in place with his hands on her naked breasts.
All Corrie could do was stare in shock as Xalleus inched his penis into her alongside Vorne’s, this second penetration lubricated by Vorne’s slippery load.
Little by little, inch by throbbing inch, Xalleus’s cock disappeared inside of her, until every bit of his hot length had been swallowed by the stretched hole between Corrie’s thighs.
“Oh fuck,” she panted. “Oh fuck me...”
“That’s exactly what we’re doing, little human.”
Corrie wanted to remind Vorne how much she hated it when he called her that, but she could barely speak. The sensation of fullness was overwhelming. The twin cocks inside her were stretching her inner walls, and when they started to move, Corrie could feel every ridge and ripple of those unyielding poles stroking her insides.
Vorne and Xalleus fucked her, moving in an alternating rhythm. As one drew back, the other plunged deep, rubbing and abrading every surface of Corrie’s interior.
She felt and heard Vorne’s hot, rumbling breath at her ear while Xalleus’s sculptural face and demonic eyes stared into hers. Vorne had promised that her body would be shared in ways she had never experienced. Now he and Xalleus were making good on that promise. Not only did Corrie feel stuffed, she was also surrounded, enclosed by the straining, naked bodies and enveloped in the thick, masculine scents.
“Good human,” Vorne purred. “Take us. Take us both.”
With two cocks inside of her, the tender place on Corrie’s front wall was under nearly constant stimulation. She could feel it swelling with arousal as Xalleus’s cockhead buffed against it. The delicious pressure expanded to dizzying proportions.
Corrie cried out, her words alternating between calling God’s name and spewing profanities. Her body shuddered with rhythmic contractions of ecstasy so intense that she nearly lost consciousness.
“Stop,” she moaned. “Oh God, please stop. I can’t take any more...”
But they didn’t stop. They continued fucking her, keeping that slow, unrelenting, alternating rhythm with their cocks.
She sensed Vorne motion with his head. A subtle nod. She saw another horned shadow, Grekh, moving in the background. He kneeled, taking up his position behind Xalleus.
No, Corrie thought. He couldn’t possibly. There was no way...
Yet somehow, Grekh was edging himself into her as well. Corrie wasn’t sure how it was even possible. In her state, it was hard to even think clearly, but she suspected it must be the vapors relaxing her muscles, allowing her to accommodate three sizeable alien members at once. Or maybe it could have been the change brought on by Vorne’s smeared seed which was adding to her gradual evolution into something more than human. Perhaps it was a combination of both factors.
Whatever it was, all three of them were inside her now, all three of her alien mates. Corrie experienced a sensation of fullness beyond all comprehension.
Grekh grunted with exertion and pleasure as he finally seated himself fully within her. Corrie could barely even see him since Xalleus’s massive body and handsome face were all but filling her vision.
She moaned and sobbed as the aliens worked on her.
Now they were moving inside her with a coordinated triple motion, their thrusts seeming to rotate around her channel, first one way, then the other. Corrie was losing herself to the sensory overload—the hot breath at her ear, the intense green eyes studying her face as she moaned, and the even more intense pressure welling deep inside of her as she was fucked by three alien cocks at the same time.
Corrie was losing herself to her shadowy dream, sliding into an abyss of pleasure so deep and dark that she wondered if she would ever return.
“Surrender,” Vorne purred. “Accept our seed.”
All three of the males grunted and groaned in chorus. In unison, their cocks pulsed, unspooling their ropes of fluid into Corrie’s aching interior. Pleasure exploded at her core and rippled outward in rhythmic contractions and relaxations of her muscles—a full body orgasm of such intensity that it blanked her mind of everything else. There was no room for anything but the sensation of pure ecstasy.
Vorne held Corrie tightly, restraining her spasming body. Her lips parted in uncontrollable gasps and moans.
Xalleus silenced her, crushing their lips together in another stinging kiss. His tongue delved inside once again and connected with hers.
This time, Corrie felt it. It was undeniable.
Her mind seemed to meld with Xalleus’s in that moment. And not just Xalleus but Vorne and Grekh too. Through their eyes and skin, she sensed herself as they sensed her—the smell of her own hair, the salt of her sweat, the wet heat of her interior.
For a brief and timeless moment, she was not simply herself.
She was in communion with her mates.
It was a sharp and sudden sting at the inner side of her elbow that broke the spell. Corrie yelped in pain and surprise against Xalleus’s lips.
“I am sorry, Corrie Pedersen,” Gulnara said. “I do not wish to interrupt your bonding, but time is of the essence, child. Your life hangs in the balance, and with it the fate of the entire planet.
Corrie glanced to her arm, where the needle had punctured her skin. Gulnara was injecting her with something, and it burned like fire in her veins.
“What are you doing?” Corrie gasped.
“It is the cure,” Gulnara said. “Your transformation is complete now. You need this to save you from the human disease. It will be…unpleasant.”
Unpleasant was a major understatement.
Pain surged through Corrie’s body, and she let out an agonized cry. It was too intense to bear. Fortunately, Corrie didn’t need to bear it for long.
The swirling vapors of the chamber seemed to close in on her, seemed to meld with the alien bodies with which she was hopelessly entangled. The world curled in upon itself, and Corrie passed into unconsciousness, still embraced and penetrated by the three alien males.
CHAPTER 23
“Drink.”
The rim of a carved wooden cup pressed to Corrie’s lips. Cool water spilled down her chin and dribbled from the corners of her mouth. When she managed to part her lips, the refreshing liquid trickled down her throat. She only drank a little before she went under again.
She slipped in and out of consciousness. Whether it had been hours or days, Corrie could not tell. The dreams were difficult to distinguish from reality, and sometimes the two blended together.
More than once she dreamed that she was chased through the black desert. Sometimes her pursuers were two headless, shambling creatures. Another time it was Waylon Burgess, his face monstrous beneath his cowboy hat, reaching for her with a gnarled, bloody claw.
Whenever she awoke, frightened and coated in cold sweat, the aliens were always there watching over her, touching her, but never in a sexual way.
Xalleus pressed his hand to her forehead.
“She’s too hot,” he said. “She’s overheating. Get Gulnara.”
Before she drifted off again, Corrie noticed with some amusement that she had understood Xalleus’s words though he had not spoken them in her language.
She slept. She dreamed. She woke again to find the Listener, Gulnara, shuffling around
her bed checking her vital signs.
The males were there watching. They were always there. They never left her side.
Corrie dipped back beneath the surface of wakefulness.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, her fever broke. She woke up, not to the uneasy half-dream state that she had been experiencing, but rather with a sense of energized alertness.
She was lying on a crude but comfortable mat of dried plant fibers. Glancing around, Corrie realized she was in a small dark chamber of carved volcanic stone. Dim light poked in through a small, roundish window carved into the wall, and she surmised this room must be somewhere overlooking the canyon. More light came from luminescent plants and fungi which had been gathered in pots and vases. She smiled when she realized that these had been brought to her the way someone would bring flowers to a patient in the hospital.
Of course, she knew who had brought these little gifts.
Xalleus was there, lying a few feet away against the wall, snoring softly. He was dressed in a loincloth now, and his hand was tucked inside, holding his balls the way guys do when they sleep. Corrie smirked at how sexy he looked, like a dreaming demon. She heard more light snoring from behind her, and by some uncanny intuition, she could tell it was Vorne just from the sound of his breathing.
She rolled onto her back and yawned, and her eyes were greeted by a vision of Grekh, crouching at the foot of her simple bed. When she looked at him, his green eyes lit up and a tentative grin curled his lips.
“Corrie?” he asked. “How do you feel?”
Corrie stretched and smiled at him.
“Like a million bucks.”
Grekh just stared at her with a quizzical look on his face. He even cocked his head slightly like a curious dog, and it was all Corrie could do to keep from bursting out laughing. She had never expected a green-eyed alien could look cute, but somehow Grekh had unwittingly pulled it off.
Of course, he had no clue what a million bucks meant, so Corrie gently added, “I feel good, Grekh. Very good.”
As soon as the words had left her lips, she clapped her hand to her mouth.
She hadn’t spoken them in English. She had used the language of Terramara. She could understand what Grekh was saying and he could understand her, not in the awkward, halting way that they had communicated before, but fluently and with ease.
Grekh’s smile broadened, flashing those perfect, white fangs of his. He moved closer, placed his hand on her forehead, then placed his fingertips against her carotid artery.
“Good,” he whispered. “Good.”
Ever so gently, Grekh peeled Corrie’s hand away from her mouth and pressed his lips to hers in a soft kiss.
“Grekh,” Corrie said when he pulled back. “I can talk to you now. I’m speaking your language. But how?”
The young alien warrior shushed her.
“I don’t know, but I like it,” he said. “I’m sure the Listener can explain it later. For now, you must be hungry.”
As if agreeing with what Grekh had said, Corrie’s stomach grumbled loudly, and she suddenly became aware of the intense hunger gnawing at her insides. Grekh frowned.
“The Listener gave you nutrients, but it’s not the same as food. I’ll fetch something for you.”
He roused his two companions so that they could watch over Corrie while he ran to get some food.
***
Corrie learned that she had been sick for several days, but the cure had been a success. She was immune to the human-engineered disease now, and any offspring she had would be too.
Once she had eaten and drank about a gallon of water, she felt much better, but Gulnara and the alien males insisted that she stay in bed a little longer to convalesce. However, after a day of restless boredom, Corrie insisted that she needed some kind of exercise. Vorne finally gave in and took her for a long walk through the abandoned city of Ashlar.
As Corrie walked through the broad, empty corridors lit by green lava-flows and glowing fungi, she occasionally looked down at her new body.
As promised, she had been provided with clothing, although it was quite skimpy. There was a black, leathery loincloth similar to those worn by the males—Corrie learned that it was made from drashegar hides—as well as short sleeved top made from the same material, which covered her shoulders and breasts and not much else. Vorne had also given her a black leather choker with a pendant made of some unknown, dark ore which was shot through with sparkling veins of pretty green stone.
In addition to the new wardrobe, Corrie’s physical transformation was complete as well. In addition to her eyes, her skin had changed too, taking on a blue color that was not quite as dark as the males.
And then there was the matter of the Terramaran language. As Gulnara explained it, Corrie had learned it automatically through the psychic bond that had been established with Xalleus’s kiss.
Now, as she and Vorne walked through the strangely carved galleries and arcades of the ancient city, they spoke sometimes in her native language and sometimes in his, switching back and forth with ease.
Sometimes, it felt as though they didn’t even need to speak at all, as if they could simply sense one another’s thoughts.
And Corrie sensed a change in Vorne as well.
The alien seemed to be in an uncharacteristically good mood as they went about their long, meandering stroll through the ghostly city. He happily answered all of Corrie’s questions—and being naturally inquisitive, she had many—about all manner of things regarding this unfamiliar place. He explained the purpose of various rooms, how they had been carved from the living rock, how long it had taken, and how the city had once looked when it was full and bustling with Terramaran men, women, and children.
It was only in these latter descriptions that Corrie detected a hint of melancholy in Vorne’s voice—a nostalgia for days past.
But the vivid images that he conjured for Corrie excited her imagination—images of busy markets, of young boys learning the arts of fighting in the gymnasium, of noble families presiding over great feasts.
Ghost town though it may have been, it still held within its walls the vibrant spirit of its former denizens.
After a few hours of touring the seemingly endless networks of rooms and corridors, the city of Ashlar went from being a forbidding alien necropolis to a place, oddly, that Corrie could imagine being her home.
The thought that she would likely never return to Earth still troubled her, but not as much as it once had. Her parents had passed when she was young, so Corrie had no close family. She had her society friends and her colleagues at the Solar Sentinel news agency, but again, none of them were really close.
The one thing that gnawed at her, however, was a regret that she would not be able to report on everything that she had witnessed here on Terramara.
Corrie no longer cared about the fame and accolades such a story would have surely brought her. That was beyond her now. But she did feel that the people of Earth had a right to know the truth about Juvanis, and the Terramaran males had a right to be free.
And then there were the Terramaran women—the millions who had died because of the disease the Galen Group had created.
Their story needed to be told too.
As Vorne led Corrie across an open-air stone bridge connecting one face of the canyon to the other, Corrie paused, looking down at the river of green lava flowing through the canyon’s bottom hundreds of feet below.
“Vorne, why didn’t you tell me about the Terramaran women before?”
The alien warrior halted. Not noticing that his mate had stopped, he had walked a few paces ahead, and now he returned to her side, standing next to her at the carved stone railing.
“What do you mean? I told you all of the females had died.”
“I know,” Corrie said. “But you didn’t tell me how. You didn’t tell me that Galen Group had killed them. I didn’t learn that until Gulnara told me.”
Vorne was silent for a moment as he thought, and Co
rrie found herself moving closer to him, pressing her arm against his. Something she couldn’t quite explain was drawing her closer to him, and she almost wished she could just meld into his body, to live inside his skin and see what was going on in that alien brain of his.
“The truth, Corrie, is that I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Seriously?” she chuckled. “After everything that has happened—in the desert, at the oasis, in the grotto—you were worried about upsetting me?”
Vorne had gone back to his usual serious self now, and he seemed deep in thought.
“I felt something within you,” he said. “Something I did not expect to find within a human.”
“And that was?”
“A sensitivity, I suppose you could call it. And a sense of responsibility. Duty. You had been through so much in such a short time. I was concerned that telling you about the disease would make you feel guilty, and that guilt might have pushed you over the edge. So I decided to hold back that information until it seemed appropriate.”
Corrie shook her head.
“I think you’ve got the wrong girl,” she said. “I’ve never been big on responsibility. I’ve always kind of looked out for number one first and foremost.”
Vorne turned to her now and looked Corrie up and down.
“Sometimes we are the own worst judges of our character. You’ve worked so hard to reveal the truth, Corrie. You’ve even risked your life for it.”
Corrie laughed, but it wasn’t a happy laugh.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t mean to risk my life for it.”
If she had known just how much danger she had been putting herself in, she would probably never have come to Terramara. And her motives for coming here were not what Vorne seemed to think. Yes, Corrie wanted to write an expose about Galen and Juvanis, but to her that was just a path to fame and fortune.
At least that was how it had started.
But perhaps Vorne was right, in his own way. Somewhere along the way, Corrie’s feelings about the story had changed. She wasn’t so concerned about fame and riches anymore. Now all she cared about was the truth.