A Temporal Gangbang At Litcon

**** WARNING ****

Lots of weird sex with fictional people.

This tale is fiction. Any similarity to actual people or characters created by others is purely coincidental.

****

My name is Yember Pilrose.

No, it's not a pseudonym, I'm an alien.

The kind of alien that comes from outer space.

I showed up at Litcon on Friday, and met a few people before sitting down at the bar.

Truth is I was mainly there to visit a panel that was being put on the next day about "extraterrestrial sex."

I got a lot of the usual comments.

You might know this about me already from my author page but I'm normally blue-skinned, with light greenish-blue hair.

That day I was red-skinned and my hair was a fluctuating orange and blonde with darker roots.

I change colors based on my reproductive cycle and I recognize that it's confusing.

I didn't think anyone would really know who I was, and I was mostly right.

I don't have THAT many followers, so I was surprised when one of them figured out my identity and struck up a conversation with me at the bar.

This was one of those magical moments that indie authors sometimes dream about.

Meeting a fan, out in the wilderness.

But it's a little different in my case.

"Hi I'm Yember, I write smut, and you read my smut, so this is a neat dynamic that we have," I would say.

Actually it was a little more awkward, and quite a lot nerdier, if I'm being honest.

I write a lot of medieval fantasy and horror filled with raunchy sex. 2

I think my favorite part of our interaction though was that he never once asked me what planet I'm from.

The "extraterrestrial" world is an interesting place. There are a LOT of multicolored alien babes on your world who are here to "study human mating rituals."

No joke, there's an entire grant program on my planet for Thyrollians who want to go off-world to study sex, which is sorta how I got here.

"Do you think Tannah will ever fuck a bugbear?" He asked.

It was a question that led to another favorite moment that we shared.

Science fiction is such a unique and young genre in so many ways, but the truth is, you humans have been discussing interspecies relationships in your stories for thousands of years, with species that don't even exist anywhere on earth.

"Maybe, assuming bugbears exist on her planet," I answered as if I didn't already know exactly who or what she would be having sex with in the next book.

"Are you gonna to write any other fantasy series'? You wrote that one Cosmic Waves one and I really liked the magic," he said.

"That's another maybe, I'm still up to my nuts in Tannah if you'll pardon the metaphor," I answered.

This was starting to go to my head fast, I realized, and it was rapidly depleting my social battery, AND it was just one fan.

I'd be absolute crap at a book-signing, I decided before ordering another drink.

I refused his offer to pay for it. I may be an alien but I've been on earth long enough to know where that leads.

Our conversation got a little flirtatious, but I think he got the hint a few drinks in that I wasn't going to sleep with him.

I still drank way too much.

Ego trips like that are truly dangerous for me.

It's a kind of high, and there's always a crash afterward.

"You're a goddamn alien Yember, from another planet, and you're here writing stories as if you're a fictional human historian, fuck..." my subconscious started up.

"Write... what... you... know... tell them about the replicator lords on Sierax or the genetic zoning laws of emperor Kartus or... hell, just talk about the hundred moons of Alymphoius... and maybe come up with a more phonetic spelling for Alymphoius."

I battled my own brain all night. It's never really been a match for earth drugs, but then again, sometimes, neither am I.

I got back to my hotel room, completely hammered, with a head full of negative thoughts and no-one to sleep with... not that I'd been looking.

I got really deep into my own head that night.

Sometimes I have to have a long one-on-one discussion with my own psyche to really root out the cause of my dysfunction.

But, sometimes during these discussions I'll shoot stray thoughts out into the aether in the form of naughty texts, idle scribblings or just subscriptions to things I don't want. It's a little like cursing into the void, or screaming into a pillow.

The problem with this system is that, sometimes, the void is listening.

I woke up late the next day, showered and rushed to the panel I was there to see and in my anxiety-fueled fugue I found a seat near the back, put on some noise-cancelling headphones and tried to act invisible for a little while.

I started listening to E.T., the Katy Perry song, and I was thinking about how terrifying earther space travel is when the first speaker went up to do their segment.

I don't really remember what she was talking about. Something about the link between alien abduction reports and sleep paralysis and the sexual nature of both.

It was kind of interesting, but it was immediately overshadowed by what happened next.

She was showing us a slide depicting a sleeping person floating out the window of their room when I got the feeling.

It's a very unmistakable feeling, it's one that Lovecraft would describe as "indescribable" then fail to describe it, because... well, it truly is.

Before I fail to describe it that way I need to tell you a little something about wormholes.

They are tunnels through space that some would call "infinitely narrow" but practically speaking they're about the same diameter as the cosmic strings that hold space together.

For the string-theory fans out there, yes, those strings... probably.

There's a certain algorithm that can find a path along these strings, given nearly any relational criteria, between all parts of a selection of matter, then suck it all through one of these tunnels like a spaghetti noodle, much faster than the speed of light, and the feeling you get right before that happens to you is not like anything else in the universe.

Yes, space is continuous... sorry if I hurt your prime directive. Please don't send the physicists after me, I'm not a mathematician, I'm just a girl who's been pulled through a few wormholes.

When it does happen the world hums and vibrates and kind of rearranges itself and you're left with a feeling that all of your atoms were probably just yanked through the belly-button of the person sitting next to you, and that's all after you get the feeling.

When it happened to me and everyone at that panel we found ourselves suddenly suspended in a purplish metallic room, lit softly by luminous veins pulsing over its weirdly chitinous surfaces.

The stage was gone, the seats were gone, and gravity was... "geosynchronous."

There was a lot of confusion all at once.

A couple people just shook nervously, one woman screamed nonstop, and a bunch of people started spinning as they failed to comprehend action and reaction in a frictionless environment.

"What the fuck is happening?!" a girl cried out as she floated toward the ceiling.

"A targeted time space distortion, or TTSD," I answered, but I don't think she heard me over the noise of the others, whose gazes were slowly turning my way.

"Did you do this?" someone asked, to which I just shrugged.

I wasn't wanted by anyone in the wider cosmos, unless the Criloks were arresting hookers all the way out here now.

I did feel like the ribbed, almost coral-like, walls of the chamber surrounding us had a certain familiarity to them, but I wasn't sure why.

Fine threads of organic material snaked through the air around us, connecting with us and forming weblike shapes that were rigid and helped stabilize our rotational velocities.

As I gripped one of these smooth appendages I caught a familiar smell.

"Marillian?!" I said aloud.

"Hello Yember," a voice reverberated from all around us, her parts vibrating as one to produce the sound.

"What... the fuck..." I began.

"Relax," she said.

"Don't tell me to relax, I TOLD you, it's OVER, send us back, now!!!" I shouted.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, okay okay, I will, I promise..." she started.

"No promises, do it, NOW!!!" I insisted, "and make sure you wipe their memories so I won't get dissected!"

"Hey, I'll be keeping my memories, thanks!" the woman who'd been running the panel said as she hung upside-down across the room.

"You most definitely won't be!" I shot back, setting off an uproar of angry voices.

Then the air was sucked out of our lungs, making speech difficult. The air pressure returned a second later, only after a few of them lost consciousness.

It was a rude and dangerous way to silence them. Marillian could be rather inconsiderate at times.

"Look, I'm sorry... I got your transmission and... I thought you wanted to see me... if I misunderstood..." Marillian spoke all around while people gasped and coughed.

"My... what transmission?" I asked, narrowing my eyes, not sure where to direct the glare I was giving.

"The one you sent last night... about the convention..." Marillian explained.

Everyone looked at me as I buried my face in my hands.

"I wasn't trying to... okay, on earth, they call that a mistext, I was a little intoxicated..." I started to explain when a gal with gray hair cut me off.

"Wait, wait, are you saying, we're all here, in space, being abducted, just because you drunk-dialed your ex?" she asked.

Thyrollians don't actually blush, but we do tend to, sort of, unintentionally imitate the creatures around us, so when my red cheeks felt like they were burning I knew it was my physiology telling me there was no argument to be made.

"You know what, I'm honestly not mad about this," an older guy said, clinging to the weblike appendage for stability.

"I'm in space, talking to an alien, that's way more interesting than anything I thought I'd see at the panel... no offense," he laughed, looking at the woman whose presentation was going down in flames fast.

"What I wanna know is, what exactly was drunk texted," a particularly nosy girl said.

I remained tight-lipped. Then after some silence Marillian spoke up.

"She said she wanted to be railed in front of the whole convention center," she answered.

"Maril!" I cursed, hearing some giggles from the convention-goers.

"What?! Look, I'm not a human expert, I don't know what the word mistext even means," she argued.

"Okay, fine... it wasn't a mistext, just a comment that I IMMEDIATELY regretted," I admitted.

The whole group turned their gazes on me again, and I felt very naked.

I had white short shorts on and a yellow zip-up hoodie with just a bra underneath and it was a little revealing, I'm not going to lie.

Still, I didn't feel quite so exposed until that moment.

"Well... go on then, we're all here and you're gonna erase our memories anyways," the lady speaker said, sounding a little salty that I'd stolen her spot.

"It is sort of, what we came here for," the gray-haired lady said with a laugh.

"Go on, don't be shy, perform for us!" someone else said.

"Is it still your wish, Yember?" Marillian asked, her tendrils coiling around my waist.

I knew that she knew how wet I was getting. She could sense everything in this chamber down to the slightest emanation of moisture from the seat of my underwear.

"Uhhh... well... I...." I stammered.

I have a rather complicated habit of putting myself in situations similar to my characters, and perhaps the fact that I recognize that pattern makes it less unhealthy, but the thing that got to me, in that moment, looking out at everyone with Marillian's alien arms slowly embracing me in my summer outfit, bare legs, and naked cleavage, was the thought that members of the audience might have actually read my work, and might truly want to see me in action.

"Fuck it, you all want a show?" I asked, feeling Marillian's tentacles wrap around my wrists and ankles.

There were hoots of approval as a thick tendril snaked down the back of my shorts, curled around my ass and through the cleft of my sex, its bulbous tip parting my flower and sliding into me.

"Oh, fuck," I gasped, spreading my toes in my shoes as the end of the penis tentacle pushed deeper into my vagina, lubricating itself with my juices as it reached a little further into my cunt with each thrust.

"Is he... she... it..." someone asked.

"She's inside me," I answered, voice trembling as my nipples grew erect in my bra and my arousal flowed along the tentacle stroking into my pussy, soaking the seat of my underwear as it pumped through my labia.

"I will undress her," Marillian said, and before I could object my clothing was torn to ribbons by micro-tentacles, leaving me completely naked except for my shoes, headphones, and knee-high socks.

My face and chest burned as Marillian pulled my ankles apart and drove her slick tendril into me, my cunt muscles gripping its smooth wet stalk as its hard mass surged up into me.

"Dammit Maril..." I sighed, humping the stiff appendage, drawing my nectar along its throbbing length and feeling my clit swell between my parted labia.

I felt everyone's eyes on my splayed, naked sex, balling my hands into fists as Marillian held them above my head.

The whole group watched Marillian fuck me with one thick cock tendril, its stalk dragging through my flower, already slippery with my juices, its tip swelling erect as it pierced deep into my clenching cunt.

I bit my lip and watched the guys stare at my crimson red areolas with bulges in their pants as my pussy squeezed the firm appendage gliding through my slick gash.

"Is there anything in particular you'd like me to do to her?" Marillian asked the crowd as she drove herself through my tight pinch, her wet shaft rubbing along my butt crack as her tip probed into me and my clit flared erect.

The room grew so quiet that I could hear the gentle slish of Marillian's tentacle as it slid up my cunt, pulling so much moisture out of me that I could feel droplets drift off of my spread sex and up my bare upper legs as my hips rocked in her grip.

"What are you exactly," one of the observers asked as Maril's appendages pulled my arms and legs further apart, her girthy penis tendril forcing my vagina muscles wide around its surging head while my pussy juices floated off of my quivering thighs.

I let out a whimper as my sex clenched tight around the slippery stalk pumping gingerly through my flower and, knowing that they could all tell how aroused I was, I gave myself over to a sudden orgasm.

"Mmmh mmmhhh... ahhhh," I moaned, my lips parting and my knees pointing inward while I trembled from the squeeze of intense pleasure within my groin.

"Ohhh, I can't believe I'm... already cumming," I stammered as my cunt throbbed and pinched the hard thing stroking deep into my pussy, each thrust giving me goosebumps up my spread legs.

"I am technically a type of worm according to human scientific taxonomy," Marillian expained while fucking me through my climax.

I made brief eye contact with each of the people watching and felt sharp thrills of excitement as I rode the slick stalk striking through my vagina.

"Marillian lives in this asteroid like a... ahhh," I sighed, milking her slick penis with the pull of my cunt, hoping to draw her seed into its clutch.

"She's like a floating coral worm, she thrives on things that live in space ice," I said through gritted teeth, massaging her prick with the tight press of my sex, thrusting along her stiff organ.

"... and she's about to nut so hard into my tight little pussy..." I growled, demanding her cum while stroking down her engorged stalk, driving its point near my cervix and feeling its bulb swell wider inside me.

"Yember is very good at inducing orgasms in my species," Marillian exposited as her tendril pulsed and warm, slick jelly squirted up my cunt.

"Show don't tell Maril," I sighed while her cock throbbed in the grip of my vagina, her cum flooding me, lubricating my labia as I slid down her tentacle dick.

"Very well, I will show off your cream-filled pussy as soon as I am done ejaculating in you," Marillian sighed, her voice trilling tinnily with satisfaction as her prehensile penis swelled in the pinch of my womanhood, gliding tightly through my muscles, her load erupting from its engorged glans and wetting my splayed minora as it drew back.

I could feel her orgasm, hot and slimy within me, sloshing around her cock as it reached up my vagina, stiff with arousal, her seed rushing up its vein in rhythmic pulses.

"Well that was fast," someone commented as Marillian pulled her swollen dick tendril through my wet labia, letting a gooey string of milky cum float from my gaping cunt while my thighs quivered and my cheeks burned.

"I'm... pretty turned on," I sighed, watching Marillian's seed drift off of my throbbing wet pussy while I humped the air, expelling cum along my slit.

I could feel most of it clinging to my open sex in the absence of gravity, leaving my flower slippery and wet between my legs as Marillian displayed me to everyone.

"It was hard to hold back," Marillian sighed. "Yember and I haven't copulated in months," she said, wrapping more tentacles around my naked body, her limbs coiling around my torso and wrists and legs.

"Luckily I have eighty-two more penises ready to probe her with," she explained while another bulbous cock tendril pressed against my butthole.

"Oh fuck," I sighed, clenching my hole around the tip of her dick and writhing to deny it entry, curling my toes in my shoes while her appendages tightened around my limbs and held me spread out before everyone.

"Are you okay? Should we do something?" a girl asked as I pulled at Marillian's constricting cords, feeling her cock rub between my butt cheeks as I bucked my hips to keep it away from my opening.

"We have a safe word, you can relax, she's just being difficult," Marillian said as my face and chest burned and my naked hips twisted.

"Oh my... you're really gonna fuck my ass in front of everyone," I squealed as more tentacles shot out, snatched me by the pelvis, and went taut, coiling firmly around my thighs.

"I'm going to do everything to you Yember," she said as her penis bulb pushed through my tightly pinched butthole, its stiff ridges stretching the narrow ring of muscles and finally sinking into me.

"Ahhhh!" I moaned as her cock slid up my ass, my cheeks parted around her girthy stalk. I felt her withdraw a little and then surge deep, her head swelling erect as it pumped gently into me, making my hole ache.

"Why did you call her a 'she' earlier?" someone asked as I started to roll my hips in time with her pushes, stroking her firm prick with my asshole, feeling it engorge in my pinch and whimpering as I took her into myself.

"Yember and I are both hermaphrodites," she answered for me as I squealed and drove her tip through my constricting butt muscles, watching her cum float off of my thrusting slit while my cheeks slid down the sides of her shaft and my ass squeezed her embedded glans.

"Your concept of gender means little to us," she said while her cock stroked through my narrow tunnel, its bulb throbbing wide as it punched deep and dragged back to my tightened ring.

"So, you're like... a genderfluid sea... uhh, space creature?" someone asked while the others watched my asshole glide along her thrusting penis tendril, my cum-filled pussy moving up and down, white semen drooling along its cleft.

"Is this rock like... your body, then?" they asked as she slid into my ass, slick and engorged, her tentacle straining my hole as I squeezed her girth.

"More like a shell," she explained, thrusting up my butt, her glans throbbing inside me, my knees straightening as she held my legs apart and drove the tip of her prick through the soft crush of my ass.