Days of near-constant walking along a wide and infinitely-straight dirt-packed "roadway," nights of sleeping high in the flanking trees, and meals administered by bizarre tentacles which would suddenly spawn from the ground and feed her what could only be alien sperm...
Yanari knelt in a small river, now quite comfortable with her perpetual nudity, the last of the bluish slime from her latest feeding being detached by the gentle flow of the water. The tentacles - effectively her "friends" on this strange planet - seemed able to read both her mind and her body, knowing what she needed or desired, presenting themselves as if on cue whenever they could be of assistance to her.
If only they could bring her a new spacecraft, or at least lead her to a civilized society where she might be able to find a way to return to space and resume her journey.
Perhaps even stranger, however, is that Yanari's first encounter with the tentacles had awakened something buried deep within her: her own sexuality. With really nothing to do but walk and "feed" and think, she had given a lot of thought to that issue over the past few days, and ultimately reasoned that with a brother well-known in the adult industry for bondage-based pornography, she had subconsciously tried to be something other than sexual, to distance herself as much as possible from her brother's disdainful occupation and counteract the "shame" his career bestowed upon the family. To some extent, it worked - even though the rest of the family had long "disowned" him, she and he had always remained intensely loyal to each other, and she was even rumored to be the only family member to attend his funeral.
...which had probably already occurred, given the days she had spent thus far on this remote planet, with no means to return to space and continue her journey, and no ability to call for assistance without attracting the attention of those who had attacked her and forced her to crash-land here.
With the exception of her mouth, none of the tentacles had entered Yanari's body since that initial encounter. In fact, even the tentacles in her mouth had generally remained completely passive, simply volleying their bluish seed down her throat to nourish her. But in the intervening days, the more she thought of that initial encounter, the more she wanted to experience it again.
This time, however, it would be different. Then, she was scared for her life, deeply fearful that once the inhuman rape ended, she would be eaten or killed. Now, however, she knew that the tentacles were her "friends," always watching out for her, taking care of her survival needs, and ensuring she knew that she was not truly alone on this remote planet.
Bending forward, Yanari submerged herself in the river, the coolness of the water relaxing her body and her mind. She remained underwater for perhaps thirty seconds, focusing upon and enjoying the gentle flow of water across her most private parts. As if moving of their own accord, her hands found her breasts, gently cupping the feminine flesh, kneading the twin protrusions, tweaking the hardening tips with her fingers, and establishing an electrifying connection from each nipple down to her hardened clitoris.
The tentacles had indeed awakened her sexuality, and now she truly needed sexual release.
Suddenly consciously realizing her lungs were on fire, Yanari rose out of the water, still in her kneeling position, inhaling the much-needed air as her hands continued to manipulate her breasts for - as far as she could remember - the very first time in her life. Even with her eyes closed, she could somehow sense the tentacles once again emerging silently from the ground behind her, just beyond the edge of the river.
This time, she would eagerly welcome their assault upon her body.
Yanari did not need to wait long before she felt the first tentative touch just underneath her left shoulder blade. At the initial slightly-slimy contact, a soft whimper escaped her lips, and her heart leapt in anticipation.
Less than a minute later, her upper torso felt as if it were encased in slimy tentacles, yet none of them had attempted to enter her body. Instead, randomly, the tentacles squeezed her briefly, or slid across her skin with tiny and nearly-imperceptible movements. This time, the young adventurer felt absolutely no fear, no panic, no urge to fight or scream.
She did, however, hope that no one would come find her now and interrupt this most unusual of interspecies coupling.
Underneath the mass of slimy alien flesh, Yanari tried to move her hands, and the tentacles yielded briefly. Other tentacles suddenly wrapped around her wrists and gently pulled her forearms back behind her, effectively thrusting her chest forward as the momentarily-bare skin was again covered by slippery exotic extremities.
In her mind's eye, Yanari imagined herself now as one of the women in her brother's many films, bound in some manner, surrounded by horny men waiting to spew their seed both upon her and within her. The thin sheen of slime from each of the tentacles encasing her must certainly feel similar to having some fifty men emptying themselves upon her, she reasoned.
Before, such a thought would have horrified her, sickened her. Now, the thought absolutely thrilled her, as indicated by the involuntary quivering south of her navel and the growing moistness inside her.
Almost instinctively, the willing captive began to struggle sensually, putting on a show of mock resistance for the fifty men she imagined surrounding her. Soft moans escaped her lips as the tentacles continued to squeeze her and move across her skin. Still kneeling in the river as she moved, her torso careened like a spinning top nearly ready to tumble. Deep in her subconscious mind, something gave a tiny token protest at the inhuman assault upon her body, but Yanari was truly conscious of only one thing:
She wanted - and needed - more.
