Xenofestation 2-03
~ORBITAL INSERTION~

Paragonas Vaunt

Copyright © 2023 Paragonas Vaunt

SAMPLE

The puglet might be small, but his cock wasn't.

It was the same shape as a man's penis, more or less, with the same slightly-curved shaft and a bulging, rounded head smothered within the folds of a velvety foreskin. But it was perhaps half as big again as any man's she had ever seen and, as she sat on the floor staring up at it jutting from the puglet's wiry frame, it seemed disproportionately bigger still.

It was the same green as the rest of the puglet, covered from base to tip in warty bumps and nodules, and up close Amber could see it had a slightly rough-looking texture, almost like fine scales.

The thing looked evil, punishing.

Inhuman.

Of course it was inhuman, Amber chided herself. That was kind of the point.

She swallowed nervously.

The puglet flexed his hips, and the flap of his overalls fell open the rest of the way, revealing what else was crowded into the space between his thighs.

Amber gaped.

Two immense balls, hanging pendulously within a bloated sac. Full and freighted with perilous foreboding.

The animal meat-stink of the puglet rose around her.

Amber glanced towards Diane in the control booth, but it was Steven's eye she caught first.

"You want me to climb on top of this?" she said, gesturing towards the green shaft jutting from the puglet's lap.

"When you're ready, Amber," Steven replied.

There was a note of anticipation in his voice.

"Do you both have to be here to watch?"

"Well, there's quite a lot to monitor in real-time," said Diane, "But I expect Steven can handle it by hims-"

"No, I meant... oh fuck it, it doesn't matter..."

She stood up.

"Is there a problem, Amber?"

"No Diane, I said it doesn't matter," Amber grumped as she reached under her sundress and shucked off her panties, flinging them petulantly away behind herself. Then she stood before the puglet, the little green goblin with the big green cock, achingly aware of how open she now was beneath her dress.

All the way up inside, all the way up past a purity seal she wasn't wearing.

All the way into her womb.

Could she do this?

And a little voice inside, from the same place that conjured images of pump flies tied down on their backs, their ovipositors waving wetly in the air, just waiting for her to straddle them, said why not?

After all, it told her, once you'd fucked a giant insect, surely something humanoid, bipedal, with a roughly normal-shaped cock - admittedly with the emphasis on roughly - ought to be a walk in the ersatzpark?

Oughtn't it?

"Amber?" said Steven, "We can put you in the chair and have the puglet come to you if you prefer?"

"Why on Earth would I want to do that?" Amber snapped.

She felt curiously annoyed, irritated for some reason she couldn't name. With effort, she ignored the feeling.

"Some people prefer it," Steven replied placidly, "Just giving you the option."

"Why would I want that?"

Steven didn't reply, but in a flash Amber knew the answer.

So that what happens is not my fault.

That was it, she realised. That was one big reason why she felt weird about doing something that ought to have been easier than what had come before. Because it was different, and not simply because of the type of creature she was with. It was her fucking something, choosing to go for it, not her getting fucked by it. Not being chased and cornered, subdued, dominated, taken.

Not surrendering. Not saying oh go on, then, and letting them do it to her, because it was easier just to go with it.

It was choosing to pursue the fuck.

Plus, it was fucking to get pregnant.

To breed.

Anger flared again in Amber's breast. Anger at Steven for getting to the heart of the issue, for showing it to her, like he had understood Amber better than she understood herself.

You don't understand me!

Anger at herself. Because what was she holding back for? Was she thinking to save herself for the right guy?

You don't understand me!

A small part of her said the anger wasn't her, it wasn't natural, but another part said yes it was, it was perfectly natural for her to get angry, and what they were putting her through was just bringing it to the surface. But Amber swallowed and pushed the anger down, where it sat as a tight ball of heat in her belly.

She took a calming breath.

Whatever she chose to do in this room, she'd choose to do it. Not have it done to her. Not be chased around the room for it.

Even so...

"Diane?" she said, "I know my implant's a bit kooky, but maybe a little tweak could help right now?"

"Sorry," Steven replied, not sounding at all sorry, "That's not allowed in this experiment."

Probably just as well, Amber decided reluctantly. The cortical stimulator that had been implanted at the start of the Programme was supposed to allow the technicians to stimulate her pleasure centres, give her a boost if she needed it. But Amber's implant was unreliable, as likely to cause pain as pleasure.

"You can use some of the lubricant from the tray over there, if you like," said Diane.

Amber went over to the medical tray and picked up the tube.

She turned back to face the puglet.

Don't give yourself time to change your mind.

That was how she'd dispensed with a number of block boys in the past, after all, and this was no different, not really. Get in fast, get out faster.

Don't stop to think.

With a decisive air she didn't entirely feel, Amber strode over to the puglet and, shuffling her feet apart to make room, she quickly straddled his lap. The puglet watched her silently.

She stared down at his erect cock.

It stared back, unblinking.

Slowly she shuffled forward until the base of its shaft was pressing against the front of her sundress, against the peak of her mound hidden beneath the material. She pushed forward, seeing the head of the creature's cock sway upwards in the gap between their bodies, testing its resistance to her.

She could feel it, feel its weighty stiffness, feel the heat of it against her, merely the thickness of a cheaply machine-printed sundress away from the most intimate opening into her body.

With the fingers of her left hand, Amber took hold of the material, and pulled the hem of her dress up.

The puglet's eyes dropped downward.

Her bare cunt was on display to him.

It was a hair's breadth away from kissing his cock.

He growled.

Amber's stomach gave a little flip.

Bunching the material of her dress over her belly with her left hand, she lifted the tube of lubricant with the right. With her thumb she flipped open the lid and from a height she squeezed a little of the clear gel onto the head of the puglet's cock and watched it roll slowly down the shaft.

She squeezed a bit more, a bit more, then on impulse she squeezed with all her strength and a generous stream of lubricant deluged onto the crown of the puglet's cock, overflowed, rolled down to pool on the base of its belly and glisten on its weighty balls. She kept squeezing and squeezing until the flow sputtered to a halt, then she threw the empty tube away over her shoulder.

Amber reached down, and wrapped her fingers around the shaft of the creature's cock.

It was warm, slightly warmer perhaps than a man's cock. Stiff too, and with that slightly rough texture she had noticed. Amber could feel the warty bumps scattered over its surface pressing into her palm as she tightened her grip.

She tucked the hem of her sundress under her chin to free her other hand, and carefully scooped up a load of the lubricant from where it had pooled on the creature's balls. She tried not to think about how those balls shifted heavily as she started to work upwards over the shaft of the puglet's cock, coating the bulky thing liberally in glistening gel.

The puglet twitched his hips to match her movements, his cock thrusting upwards, his foreskin retracting in Amber's grasp, and automatically she took up a two-handed grip, one hand over the other. She gazed down, spellbound, at the greenish-grey head of it, uncovered, glistening, the dark slit at its very tip oozing a tiny bead of clear liquid.

As it rose beneath her, the base of the puglet's cock brushed against her mound.

Amber slipped, her legs giving way.

The bumps and nodules of the puglet's grotesque shaft rasped forcefully over her peak, the first contact between their private parts this most sudden, most intimate touch, its cock grinding against the hood of her clit, and as it powered upwards the pressure between their two bodies drove the bumpy thing deeper among the folds of her valleyed cleft, uncovering her most sensitive spot, exposing her utmost secret to its naked touch, coating her in warming lubricant as it slid past.

Amber froze in place, gripped by the unexpected shock of it.

She should have lifted up, away from it, from the too-intense stimulation, but her legs had not quite the strength, were suddenly trembling. Unsteady, too unsteady she was to do it, to escape it, and she remained frozen, partnered with the too-much touch.

Still she held still, fingers still grasping the puglet's shaft as the creature let himself fall back onto the chair, and then he thrust up once more, sliding through her fingers once more, rolling the velvety foreskin of his cock back and forth over its meaty glans once more, rubbing along her seam once more.

She squeezed tighter.

And that was how Amber found herself wanking a puglet's cock, stroking a naughty fairy-tale goblin, as easily as if she were doing a block boy, her fingers wrapped around his lumpen shaft, not quite meeting, not quite believing. Matching his movements with her own, with the twisting, swirling grind of her palms along the length of his slickened shaft, and maybe - just maybe - allowing the roll of her hips to meet the rise and rub of his bumpy cock against the trembling peak of her mound.

With her chin still pressed to her chest to hold her sundress out of the way, she glanced up through the fringe of her hair at the plexiglass dome containing the other puglets.

Every one of them was staring at her.

Amber stared back, unblinking.

Every one of them had his hand clasped tight to the bulge in the front of his overalls.

Every one of them was grinning.

It happened out of the blue.

The puglet beneath her was thrusting rhythmically upwards through the circle of her fingers, back and forth, up and down, into the narrow space where Amber's belly pressed against his, tighter as she pushed herself more strongly against him, tighter still. Then abruptly he thrust upwards, hard, the base of his cock, his balls, grinding fiercely against the soft mouth of her empty cunt, and without warning a burst of liquid white lightning abruptly shot up into the air between his straining face and hers.

Amber blinked.

She fell back, the hem of her sundress falling free.

The second spurt struck the underside of her chin, the third splashed the front of her dress, but by then she was falling backwards, releasing her grasp on the puglet's pulsing cock, which sprang free and sent the next jet of sticky white sperm clear over his shoulder.

For the second time that day, Amber fell backwards onto her bottom before the seated puglet, but this time she rolled quickly away as his cock rebounded from his belly, turned its dangerous eye towards her, and sent more splashes of gluey whiteness her way.

The puglet let out a strange, whooping cry, an ululating howl of triumph and release.