Whitney Strand tossed and turned in bed next to her husband, Andrew. They should have been here by now. She turned and laid on her back staring at the ceiling. It had never been on her time if she was honest, always on their, but she felt she was entitled to feel a little impatient.
Every 28 days or so, since Whitney had turned 18, the visitors arrived to steal her away. Whether she was in college, in her own apartment, or staying over at someone else's place, they'd appear at her bedside, staring with their huge, soulless eyes.
But was this it? After 8 years was it over? They had missed last month, if they missed again that would confirm it in her mind, they were done with her. Whitney dug her fingers into the mattress and waited, either for the visitors or sleep, whichever came first.
And then, as she was about to get up to stare out the window, Whitney's room filled with a familiar blue light. She smiled and rose up in bed, letting the sheets fall away from her bare torso. Slowly moving towards her and Andrew were three small creatures in shiny, vinyl jumpsuits. Each wore a different color, a small detail Whitney was almost positive they did so she had some way to tell them apart; one red, one blue, one yellow. Huge black eyes that always reminded her of windows into some bottomless chasm stared at her intently. "Finally" She thought with the tiniest hint of annoyance, knowing they would hear it.
They used to paralyze her, and then control her body like she was nothing but a puppet. But they didn't waste energy on any of that anymore, not when she was so willing and eager to do whatever they asked.
The three visitors approached her and Whitney stepped out of bed, dropping to her knees in front of them. Tiny hands moved up and down her body, one set of hands caressing and pinching her breasts, another exploring her inner thighs and beginning to play with her cunt, the last stroking her hair as if to soothe her. Whitney bit her lip but otherwise stayed perfectly still as they examined her and toyed with her. She was about to be taken again, and her entire body craved for it to begin.
Red held out a metallic collar and, with a series of clicks, secured it around Whitney's neck. A beam of light formed from the collar, and Red grabbed hold of it. Red tugged, and obediently Whitney rose to her feet. Red pulled again, and Whitney followed him. She looked at Andrew as she was guided past him, and saw he was snoring, oblivious to the journey his wife was about to take. It was better this way, Andrew was a wonderful husband but he didn't understand the visitors, didn't really believe that they were anything other than a vivid nightmare his wife had. Whitney blew him a kiss silently and continued to follow Red towards the window where Blue and Yellow waited for them..
Blue touched Whitney's forehead and then the four of them floated up through the air, effortless, weightless, free. She felt the wind on her face and body as she kept drifting towards her destination, the large silver disk silently hovering above her home. Whitney smiled as the disk grew larger and larger.
Whitney walked behind the visitors, still led by Red, the metal floor of their craft freezing her bare feet. They passed through a long corridor, the walls decorated by pictograms Whitney still could not decipher. She felt her nipples perk up, both from the cold air and from anticipation of what came next. None of them said, or thought, a word to her, which wasn't out of the ordinary. They usually let their captain communicate with her.
Whitney and her friends turned one more corner and finally, they were there: the examination room. A metal table in a metal room, no other furniture, no decorations. Whitney appreciated the simplicity and the focus the room had on the single purpose it was used for. She had spent so many nights here, prodded, probed, shackled and pleasured. Her first orgasm had occurred here, on this exact table, and she smiled thinking of how few people could say they'd returned so often to the site of their own first time.
Red, Blue, and Yellow guided Whitney to the table and then helped her on to it as the leash retracted back into her collar. Whitney lay down, for the second time tonight staring up at a ceiling. She heard the comforting click as restraints at her wrists and ankles were secured and, giving a sigh of satisfaction, closed her eyes. It was about to begin.
Whitney heard a mechanical whirring and, with no other warning, she felt two metal tentacles enter her ass and pussy. A few seconds later, a third erupted from the table and filled her mouth. The three alternated moving in and out of her holes, the whole time buzzing and whirring.
Whitney loved Andrew. He was a good man, he was a good lover, but nothing could compare to this. This endless penetration by three long appendages, this constant stimulation and attention to her body, as she was completely helpless to move in resistance or ecstasy, completely at the mercy of the table and its tentacles. And all the while, the three visitors just stared intensely, their massive black eyes taking in the sight of Whitney and doing absolutely nothing else. They watched like she was a tv show, a spectacle to view and not participate in. The tentacle in her mouth pushed further in and Whitney coughed on it and Whitney did what she could to open her throat further for it. She clenched around the two in her ass and and cunt respectively, wanting more, wanting this to never stop.
Whitney felt an orgasm building in her body, and right before that release, the three tentacles retreated out of her. Gasping, shaking Whitney whimpered. Blue walked to the table and cleaned the fluids off the tentacles, scraping them into three separate vials. When Blue was done the three tentacles retracted with another whirr. Still shackled to the table, Whitney moved her hips, desperate to be fucked more. She looked desperately as much as she could around the cold, clinical room.
