Chapter 4

Helen opened her eyes again to a very nice tingling coming from her loins; the tentacles were still manipulating her clit and had made further changes. However, that was not the most important thing in her mind at that point, this time she remembered everything about her dream, if it was a dream at all, which she doubted very much. It seemed that the process that scrambled their brains until they were unreadable by human technology somehow gave them access to the mind of the worm. She supposed that her assimilation wasn’t advanced enough to let her enter that mental landscape at will, only transporting her there when she fell unconscious.

Were her captive colleagues still there suffering another of the worm’s mental exercises in depravity? Or had they woken up like her to their lonely liquid chamber, to contemplate for hours how the worm toyed with their bodies? Hopefully, they had reached a state where they could transition from one level of consciousness to another at will.

Not so long ago, she had wished for something, no matter how painful, to alleviate the tedium of her forced immobility, so she imagined that maybe those women had gone through the same stages as her and that hellish alien landscape had been deemed a better alternative than that lonely half darkness where she floated now.

Did the worm know about the reading devices implanted in her brain? That question was important at the light of the recent developments. Maybe the recording of those dreams was helping the scientists to decode the strange thought patterns that so puzzled them. She decided not to tell the captured women yet, maybe the worm had ways to read that information from her brain, maybe not, but she would not force the situation.

In the unspecified time that had passed while she was with them, new changes had happened to her body. Leaving her tingling clit for the last, she resolved to be methodical. Starting from the top, Heather confirmed that her boobs were even bigger if that was possible, itched like madly and their skin rippled faintly in some places. What was happening inside them? The hardened convict feared the answer to that question.

Her spread intestines, which had completely unraveled by now, were attached to the inner surface of the cocoon in multiple places thanks to strange warts from the tentacle making holes through the tissue in all its length. It was strange seeing how the new decoration of the sac wall was made of the organs coming from her own body. The loose flaps of connective tissue that had previously kept her intestines together floated in ragged tatters clinging to the fleshy tubes.

The new arrangement of her innards let her see with clarity the sorry state her belly was in. Now that the intestines were out of the way, the rest of her organs like the stomach, liver, or pancreas were slowly floating away from their appropriate places. Without severing tendons and blood vessels they would remain still attached to her, but it was creepy nonetheless. Summarizing, she was well and truly gutted, and her emptied abdomen now could have hold a baby with ease.

Without her intestines on the way, if she forced her head down a bit, she could see how the kidneys had been pierced from her back, confirming the reason for that agonizing pain the first period she had been awake inside the chamber. Now, the deep red beans were colonized by dozens of tendrils, making them seem withered, like prunes.

Her bladder hadn’t changed at all since the last time. The inflated balloon was still full to the brim with some kind of liquid, and she still had the overwhelming, agonizing need to pee. However, stuffed as it was, her sphincter didn’t respond to her commands so she just ignored it again.

All the time she had passed inside with her holes so stretched was accustoming her to the sensations. She didn’t even notice her overstretched jaw and full mouth anymore. Her asshole and urethra, filled to capacity and beyond, registered just as a painful, albeit endurable, fullness. It was true that the body desensitized to stimulation if the input was constant, no matter how strong the pain might be.

Her clitoris, the source of the delicious tingling that had awakened her, had also been further modified as she suspected. Apart from the manipulator tentacles giving it a relaxing massage, an injector tentacle spearing all its length from the very top had been pumping something inside her abused organ. Now, the main branch had swelled to resemble a bright red penis, and it kept growing, increasing the pressure and the heightened sensations proportionally. She was very close to another thunderous orgasm, but she feared closing her eyes to savor it because of the last thing that called for her attention.

What was worrying Heather the most was her poor prolapsed uterus. When she had fallen asleep, it had resembled a fleshy tube, now it was a reddish sphere the size of a soccer ball. The cervix, like her intestines, had attached itself to the inner wall of the cocoon, and she could have sworn that the temperature she felt in that area was somehow cooler than the one she enjoyed inside. It probably meant that the meaty ring of her cervix was finally decorating the side of the alien.

Two smaller bulges could be seen at both sides of the uterine ball. From the walls, yet another pair of tentacles massaged and pinched them for God knew what purpose, sending jolts up her spine with each squeeze. If her anatomy classes back in high school had served her for something, those bulges were probably her ovaries, although they shouldn’t have been big enough to make an impression through the powerful musculature of her vagina, reversed to make the outer layer of her prolapsed organ. More alien tinkering, for sure.

So, what Nesta had said was true, she was probably pregnant with some kind of mutant hybrid offspring. What was really incubating inside her uterus? Maybe an egg? A small version of the worm? An unholy spawn of human and alien? She was moderately sure she would never know the truth unless the pregnancy was allowed to come to term and she was freed somehow.

In the meantime, the itching in her boobs had come into a crescendo, and was now making Heather beg for her arms again to scratch it. Her teats heaved with the movement of whatever was inside but, this time, the worm somehow responded to her request. From behind her, many smooth tentacles emerged, encircled the fatty bags and began a rhythmic massage of her aching teats, as if they were milking them.
Again and again, a tentacle would coil itself around the base of one breast and, after tightening its grip, would move slowly towards the tip where it would uncoil and return back for another stretch.

Thanks to that methodical procedure, incredible pressure was mounting just behind her nipples, small solid lumps that expanded their milk ducts as they were pushed outside. Whatever those lumps were, they were fighting to exit through holes painfully small for them. With each cycle of pretend milking, more and more things joined the queue, until the flesh behind the areola was full of small moving bumps.

The signals coming from her sensitive boobs were, like usual, an unhealthy mixture of pain and pleasure, combining the pressure relief by the milking tentacles and the stinging pain that so resembled needle play.

If that wasn’t enough, down her cunt her clitoris was now suffering a similar treatment. The injector tentacle kept pumping something inside, but the manipulator tentacles had gripped the base with crushing strength, squeezing with fierce intent until she felt her poor clit was going to burst at any moment. It had gotten to a point where the blinding sensations coming from her abused sexual organs that filled her sight with stars couldn’t be classified as torture anymore. It had surpassed any definition of torture, breaking the ceiling of the dimension of pain and going full circle into what could only be called transcendent pleasure.

With the last squeeze of the breast tentacles, small white dots like zits had appeared at every puncture wound of her nipples, and she understood at last what was happening inside her breasts. The squid symbionts had injected her tits with their eggs and sperm, turning her mammary glands and ducts into a nursery for their children. Children which had finally matured and were ready to be born.

Little by little, the small albino creatures pushed and wormed their way out her nipples, enlarging the tiny holes a little bit with each new push, aided by the thrust of their siblings behind them and the power of the tentacles steamrolling her increasingly floppy teats.

Her clit was now the size of a small lemon and the tentacles down there kept going. Each moment Heather though that the feeling was unbearable and she would fall unconscious, the tentacles increased the pressure and her pain one more notch and she discovered she could still endure more. No wonder the miner girls had turned into such extreme forms of mental entertainment so fast, the limiters of her brain seemed to have been removed, and it was becoming quickly addictive.

Then, without prior warning, the tissues of her clit could resist no more and the whole organ split through the middle, almost making her lose her mind. She had shut her eyes hard to try to isolate the incredible feeling of her exploding clit but, in the brief moment when she had seen her pleasure nub tear, she had been reminded of that time when she had tried to cook a sausage in a microwave stolen from a museum. It was an archeological relic that had piqued her interest, so she ordered a heist and had the thieves transport the antique, but working, appliance to her house.

When she had tried the processed food inside the machine to see how it worked, the meat tube had torn itself in a very similar way to her poor clit.

The sudden release of all the accumulated pressure when her clit popped had triggered another massive orgasm similar to when she had been gutted, and the pleasure spasms coursing through her mangled body prompted the first batch of squids to finally achieve their goal and squeeze like toothpaste from her nipples full of holes.

It was too much to process. Apparently, each inch of the new exposed surface of her open clitoris was as sensitive as the whole organ. The manipulator tentacles rubbing the flesh petals of her clit gave her an orgasm if they so much as lightly rubbed it, and the squids kept coming from inside her breasts, widening the exits even more with each passage until her darkened nipples were more hole than skin.

As if to cap that transformation orgy, two tentacles armed with razor sharp blades made two precise cuts on top of the bumps that marked the location of her ovaries. The cuts widened under the pressure of her enlarged twin gonads and, soon, a pair of yellowish oversized eggs popped from the split flesh to decorate the sides of her uterine bulge.

The freshly released squids, dozens of them already with more coming, swam around her watery prison, stopping at all the places where dead skin, muscle or connective tissue dangled, fulfilling their duty of leaving her cocoon spotless.

Amazingly tired after those last stages of her increasingly bizarre transformations, Heather saw lazily how, as soon as they finished their work, the squids returned promptly to her breast, now their nest and, again, dived inside mouth first to deposit their own batch of eggs and sperm that would spawn the next generation of cocoon cleaners. Their purpose fulfilled, the short lived creatures died promptly and sank to the bottom of the sac to be consumed by the worm for nutrients. Nothing was wasted inside her small ecosystem, it seemed.

Unable to keep her eyes open for another second thanks to the brutal torture and mind bending pleasure, she drifted again to sleep.
“Hello Heather”

Heather opened her eyes to the now familiar alien landscape. Nesta, who had greeted her once again, wasn’t trapped into any bizarre alien organic contraption, as none of the rest of the naked girls who waited behind her with respectful patience were.

“This time there is no creative form of torture?”

“We wanted to greet you properly into our small family. This is a special occasion after all!” she smiled happily.

“Special in what way?”

“Your neural link is now complete. Which means His mind is as open to you as it is to us”

“Really, and what does that mean?”

“It means that you can talk to him directly, and ask for anything, or make your own changes as you wish. Kind of virtual reality, but much better”

“Will I wake up again inside the cocoon?” Heather asked, unsure if she would ever want to do that.

“As often and for as long as you desire” Nesta explained “Some of us like feeling our breast squids’ birth. Others like to enjoy an orgasm with their real bodies from time to time. I like to see how my child grows inside my uterus”

“How does your real body look now?”

“Want to see?”

“Can I?”

“Of course, I can project here a mental image of myself for you to admire” she chimed “But I didn’t think you were the curious type”

“I’m going with the flow, if you like that expression. I have lost the will to resist” Heather said lowering her head in defeat at long last.

As she said those words Heather had understood how true they were. Rescue didn’t look like an option right now, and she was learning to enjoy her defenselessness. The thought of surrendering her body and submitting her soul to the worm filled her with a true sense of purpose for the first time in her life. Maybe it was love, maybe it was enhanced Stockholm syndrome, more likely it was the worm tinkering with her brain. It didn’t matter anymore.

The redhead nodded knowingly and made a gesture with her hand. From the purple organic soil, a transparent cocoon emerged, containing the image of the real body of Nesta inside her own chamber.

All her transformations had been taken in the redhead to their logical extreme. The ex-miner’s womb, now the size of a beach ball, was partly outside the cocoon, the cervical ring twitching, anxious to drop its cargo to the world as soon as it was ready. The twin yellow ovaries at its sides had reached the size of softball balls; grown to those ridiculous proportions thanks to multiple tendrils feeding them God knew what kind of chemicals from the walls of the sac.

Her clit was more or less like her own had become except much larger, having completely opened itself in two through the middle line and laying spread like a tongue. Her urethra was similarly speared, only the girth of the tentacle now rivaled a horse cock and her bladder was even more inflated if that was even possible.

Her intestines existed no longer; the tentacle that traversed her digestive tract had grown so much that it had tore open the useless organ which then would have been picked clean by the omnipresent albino squids. Her liver, pancreas and stomach had been similarly consumed, leaving the abdominal cavity completely clean, with only the hint of the spinal cord and the pruned kidneys. The main anchoring tentacle now penetrated her ass, left through her empty belly to line the walls of the chamber and then went back again, into her chest.

Right there appeared a new development. Nesta’s ribcage had been also split open through the middle, her sternum cleanly broken and her ribs having been forced apart. Now, her lungs and heart were fused with tentacles in a pulsating indistinguishable mass that overflowed from her chest cavity. Her tits, elongated like water gourds, floated limply at her sides, the nipples transformed into lumpy tumors full of holes in a honeycomb pattern, from where squid symbionts entered or exited their mammary nest.

Nesta’s face was now completely covered by the combination of the overgrown flowery tip of that original tentacle and the filaments that protruded from her nostrils and also ears, creating a strange fleshy helmet over her head that only left her emerald eyes and patches of red hair visible.

From the raw stumps of her legs and arms, even more tendrils emerged, anchoring her body to the walls of her final resting place in more points, surely increasing the flow of substances between the captive and the worm.

“Does it ever stop changing?” said Heather, touching tenderly the soft skin of the cocoon and rubbing the doughnut sized cervix that protruded outside.

“In the end only the brain and reproductive organs will remain. It’s not like we need anything else now”

“I see” Heather replied calmly. It made sense, somehow.

Nesta dismissed her self-image with another gesture, prompting the imagined cocoon to sink again in the ground and then, like if privy of a private joke, she smiled beatifically. The rest of the woman mimicked her, and Heather felt a sudden clarity of mind that she had never imagined could be possible.

She had been fully welcomed into the worm’s mental network with the rest of the women at last; and with that final act came the understanding that her past held no meaning to all of them. Her crimes had been forgiven and forgotten, as they meant nothing to Him, and a load she didn’t even know she was carrying anymore was lifted from her. No secrets mattered, no sins, no guilt, just peace and bliss.

Even the reading devices implanted in her brain, the worm had knew from the beginning and didn’t care a single iota. He had planted His own “spy” between the ranks of the researchers as well, letting them extract one of His precious brides with a cargo of mind control symbionts inside her breasts, identical in shape to the cleaner squids, although designed with a different purpose. All it had required was just a careless technician to begin the infestation chain, and soon after Heather had been captured by Him, the last member of the rescue team had been silently infected.

Heather herself had been an unexpected, but welcomed, addition to His harem, but He still had room inside His body for many more women. With each new acquisition, His knowledge of the human race that so fascinated Him increased, allowing Him to refine His tactics when approaching new specimens. Heather’s extensive knowledge of the criminal underworld would serve Him well to gather assets, deliver parasites in secret and eliminate obstacles in His plans.

His ultimate purpose in Sol system, after having discovered the fascinating human race, was to reach Earth. The preemptive strike by the human military had slowed His plans, but not stopped them. Once He recovered His poor lost wife, He would use the enslaved scientists to travel to Earth undetected and, once there, He would sample all the life forms of the planet and learn the rest of the accumulated knowledge of humanity.

Meanwhile, He would complete His collection of wives with select specimens, and would make them spawn hybrid children that would help enlighten the earthlings into the ways of the universe, improving as well all the local ecosystems. When His work was finished, His powerful mind, which worked in dimensions unreachable to humans, would lock onto the gravitational string pulling from the next candidate star.

The graviton flux generated by the mass could be harnessed as a sort of cable between celestial bodies from where to pull and use as means of propulsion. It was a slow form of travel but He was immortal and time held no meaning for Him. His interminable voyage would therefore continue, meeting new and exciting organisms, or seeding life in barren worlds where evolution had not taken hold yet with the help of His new brides.

With their modified reproductive tracts, Heather and the rest of the women would become soon veritable cradles of life, able to spawn any of the species whose genetic material (of wildly different types) He had stored in His system, and there were billions upon billions of those. By far, human females were the most efficient borrowed organisms He had ever found for that purpose, and Heather shuddered in wicked delight with the prospect of giving birth to some of the specimens she had seen ravaging her sisters before.

All that knowledge had flowed into Heather’s mind in the space between one breath and the next. Now, she knew His plan, as well as her purpose in it. The notion of her whole body being reduced to a breeding organ didn’t repulse her like it would have done not so long ago, it was just proper. At the same time she realized that simple fact, a familiar presence made itself known under their feet.

The elastic ground began trembling and all the expectant women moved respectfully out of the way, parting in two groups at both sides of Heather, leaving a huge patch of empty ground in front of their newest sister.

Like a sphincter opening, an enormous hole four meters across parted the fleshy soil ahead of them, and the familiar head of the worm, looking exactly how she had seen Him in the beginning, emerged in all His glorious size.

Meter after meter of alien worm slithered out of the hole and coiled before His assembled harem, with Heather occupying the center place of honor. The head of the alien, resembling a tightly packed bud, towered above her, an imposing presence that now elicited reverence and awe, not fear and desperation. Opening the pinkish petals in their entire splendor, He extended a small tentacle from His cavernous mouth to cup Heather’s cheek, and she knew without any shadow of doubt that He loved her.

Heather and her eleven (for now) sisters would remain inside Him. Their bodies would become organs for Him to use as He needed. Their minds would entertain themselves trying new and exciting forms of stimulation, surpassing the limits of pleasure and pain again and again, testing His unlimited imagination. Forever.