Curves Ch 02 1

Thanks to Todger 65 for the edit.

*****

Splat! The sound of water hitting the surface woke the young woman. "Huuuurgh!" The rush of air into her lungs followed. "Cough! Cough!" Air and water expectorated again through her abused throat; the tight, painful clench of her chest as her body adjusted to the breath of air.

She lay on the floor, sinuses and throat burning, lungs heaving, coughing water and saliva.

"What the fuck?!"

she thought.

"I'm not dead?!"

A faint sense, just before she awoke, of something thick and fleshy, like a cock in her mouth, floated briefly to the surface but sank so quickly, she was unsure whether it was a dream or hallucination.

Charlotte stood on wobbly legs and looked around.

"Where am I? A cave?"

It could explain the whirlpool. A hidden cave, perhaps, had opened and caused the whirlpool, and she got caught in the vortex. She heard something similar happened in Florida.

"A salt mine, I think." The question was, "Where did the water go? And how am I going to get out of here?"

The cave was more a tunnel; tall enough to stand with plenty of room. It was dim but Charlotte could see, albeit she knew not the light source. It seemed to come from all directions but she couldn't detect any bio-luminescence.

The tunnel was warm and humid, almost like a sauna. The walls were black and shiny, rising from the floor in arcing patterns with ridges. Charlotte was uncomfortably reminded of the ribs of a skeleton.

The floor itself was a light gray. It continued away from her for some distance before curving off to the right. The surface was warm and damp beneath her feet. It felt like a wet carpet or moss.

The structure of the tunnel made Charlotte apprehensive. It looked unnatural, like something not created by geological forces but manufactured. The walls curved in too regular a pattern. The floor looked too flat and even to be a natural carving.

"Maybe I found a hidden temple,"

she thought.

It seemed silly; visions of herself as Indiana Jones or Lara Croft were fleeting and dismissed.

"Those college students thought I looked like Lara Croft,"

she thought again, smiling.

The milf walked down the corridor towards the curve.

"Naked, wet, and half-drowned," she chuckled. "Wonder what those kids would think now?"

Charlotte knew she had to find a way out of the cave.

"I hope it isn't too far from the lake,"

she thought.

"And please don't let there be bears."

Charlotte continued down the path. The luminescence seemed to increase as she crept through the tunnel. The corridor seemed to lighten though she couldn't be sure. She thought the light source might be at the end of the tunnel.

"Is that a glow" she asked. If so, it meant the possible entrance.

Charlotte began to run, ignoring the soft squelch of her feet on the wet floor. Hope turned to disappointment when she came to a large circular arc.

It opened into a wide chamber. The floor was the same light gray as the passageway. The chamber was the size of a small garage with a low ceiling.

"Darn!" Charlotte said.

The walls and roof were smooth, flat, and shiny, like obsidian. She stepped into the chamber and noticed circular patterns, of varying sizes and barely noticeable, dotting the floor like so many pockmarks. Charlotte walked across the chamber to the opposite wall where her reflection appeared, faint and pale against the black glass. She noticed circular patterns dotting the wall as well. She glanced upward; the same patterns decorated the roof.

"This is not a cave," Charlotte realized. The chamber looked too . . . ordered, too built. "What is this place? A temple?"

She looked at her reflection. Her light tan skin glowed shiny and wet in the faint light. Her dark hair was slick and plastered to her skin. Charlotte's expression betrayed no fear, just curiosity. The room was warm, damp, humid, with a faint odor, almost a musk.

Charlotte examined the room and found no exit, so she turned and, "What?!" The entrance was gone. The arch way through which she'd entered was now a solid black wall. A cold chill raced up and down the milf's spine. A cave in she could understand, not a doorway that simply goes missing.

"Oh shit! Oh shit!" she cursed, backing up fearfully. "This place is seriously strange."

She cursed herself for forgetting that Lara Croft and Indiana Jones had to deal with deadly traps, "And I just probably stepped into one."

She backed up until her back bumped against the wall, which turned out to be surprisingly warm . . . and very sticky.

<Specimen acquired. Preparing immobilization procedure.>

The command raced soundlessly through the ship. Charlotte, unknowing, became aware of a light, warm breeze wafting through the chamber.

"Where's it coming from?" she asked. "Maybe there's a way out after all."

However, when she started to search, she encountered a problem. "What the . . .? My feet are stuck?!"

Charlotte's feet were adhered to two of the circles in the floor.

"Ugh! Argh!" she grunted, struggling. "What the hell . . .?!" The circles held her feet fast. "Did I step in glue? What's happening to the wall?"

The wall at her back was moving. What at first seemed like hard obsidian glass, now felt like warm tar; warm tar which molded itself to her back and ass, trapping her against the wall while simultaneously supporting her body.

Charlotte struggled, caught like a fly in a sundew plant. She was terrified, but not to the point of panic.

"What is this place?!" she wondered. "God! Is . . . is . . . this place . . . alive?!"

The concept seemed beyond strange, but the objects emerging from the walls and floor around her belied such impossibility. "Oh . . . no! Oh my God!"

Wet sucking sounds filled the room. The walls, floor, and ceiling rippled and flowed like liquid. It was like watching spreading ripples from multiple stones cast in a black pond. The obsidian walls flowed like water, the floor, like quicksilver. Charlotte's body swayed as on a waterbed. "Oohhh! What's happening?!" she moaned.

A cold fear rose within the milf as moisture dripped from the ceiling. The rippling wall acquired a liquid texture that sent ice racing up Charlotte's spine. Her rising terror came from a chilling revelation.

"Oh God! The cave is alive! This is probably its stomach! Oh my God! I'm being digested!"

Charlotte, years ago, watched an episode of

X-Files

wherein Mulder and Scully nearly suffered a similar fate. It creeped her out. Unbeknownst to the milf, however, she was not in a real life "Field Trip". The oils dripping from the ceiling had a far different purpose than digestion.

The ship, in ancient times, was constructed according to rules and standards set by the governing bodies of the period. Among the regulations were words regarding the treatment of slaves, pets, scientific specimens, and other creatures who might happen to fall under the control of a higher sentient. So, if a lower sentient happened to be captured and/or used, of course the subsequent activity may be non-consensual but some benefit, at least, was required for the prisoner. It helped the situation considerably that the species of jellyfish, which served as the basis for the bio-engineered ship, was a source of rare and unique chemical secretions, known to produce interesting reactions from the erogenous areas of certain sentient creatures, mainly primates; a testament to the foresight of the junior executive with the brain of a Dalgonian flea.

The effect on Charlotte was notable for its familiarity. It began with the smell. "Sniff! Sniff! What's that smell? This cave smells . . . musky?! Holy . . .?! It smells like . . . like . . . sex!"

She gazed about, marveling at a cave which was not a cave. Clear beads of oil rained from the ceiling. The room rippled and spasmed like the innards of a great organ.

Charlotte knew instinctively that she was at the verge of a major event. "Something is going to happen," she gulped.

She hadn't felt so much as a tingle, much less pain, from the semi-viscous fluid dripping upon her body, so when the cave revealed its next surprise, Charlotte didn't scream but her terror was undiminished.

"Oh no!"

The pockmarks around the cave bubbled and bulged. Soft, wet, slurping sounds emitted from the hundreds of pimples lining the chamber. The pustules burst and a myriad of wet, gleaming tentacles popped forth, slithering and sliming into the now groaning cave. Charlotte wept and moaned as a veritable garden of slimy slithers grew around her trapped body.

The undulating abominations varied in size, texture, and coloring. Some were thin as piano wires, others thick as fire hoses. Some looked, swayed, and behaved like long thick tongues, dripping with slime. Others slithered like deep purple snakes, twisting sinuously between the tongues like mucus covered vines; and there were others, of shapes and forms of varying lengths and girths, of which Charlotte could only define by a ridiculous but appropriate name,

"Cock-tacles!"

New terrors emerged from the pustules; tentacled horrors of sickly greens, reds, and purples which reminded Charlotte of monstrous sea anemones risen from some primordial Lovecraftian ocean.

"Oh God! This place is evil!" she moaned. "Eek!"

Charlotte, so focused upon the erupting monstrosities, had forgotten her own situation, until a warm, slimy undulation oozed up her calf, causing a shriek to burst from her lips. Looking down in horror, she found her legs encased in a writhing mass of thick, tuberous tentacles. "AAAAHHH!" she screamed, struggling in a vain, frenzied attempt to escape from the wall.

The tentacles inched and slithered their way up her gams, sliming them as they advanced. Charlotte's stomach recoiled at the touch of the penile appendages inching towards her . . . she didn't want to think about it. It quaked further as new tentacles snaked from the wall.

They slithered under her arms and over her shoulders to curl around her breasts. Like the others they varied in size and shared similarities in color. The milf watched, entranced as they slicked across her bouncing melons, smearing them with oil until they shone like round globes of porcelain.

"What the hell?!" Charlotte gasped. Her question came from the shock of her cantaloupes' response to the oiling. "I'm aroused?!"

The stroking had perked her burnt sienna tits to cones while her flower grew moist with unwelcome lust. Charlotte brought her hands to the offending appendages. Her sensitive breasts were reacting as to a human lover. Her response was a sense of outrage. Human, alien, or monster, no one touched her melons without her permission.

"Get off me you . . . you . . . you tentacle things!" she shouted.

Her attempts to remove the phallic ropes were futile. They were oil-slick, thick and throbbing.

"Holy fuck! They feel like cocks!"

she thought. They slipped through her hands with friction-less ease. Worse, her attempts at a tight grip seemed to excite them further.

The tentacles curled and spooled around her melons, exciting her pinkish-brown nipples beyond cones to near spears. Her double D's bounced and bobbed, blushing pink through the light tan skin. Charlotte moaned in spite of herself.

"Ohhh! Oooo! F-f-felt up by ten . . . tent . . . tentacles!" she gasped. "A . . . a cave . . . a cave is . . . molesting me!"

Her attempts to remove the tentacles grew more feeble as she tried to ignore the effects on her body. Alien chemicals soaked through her skin, into her bloodstream, and not just chemicals. Other microscopic machines, part of the ship's array of bio and technological wonders, found their way inside as well.

Charlotte's arousal grew; her heart beat faster, sending the chemicals to her pleasure centers in quicker time. Endorphins began to flood her body.

"Ooohh!" the milf ululated as waves of lust washed over her being. "Gasp! Aaahh!" came next; a brief scream, not of terror but surprise and pleasure, electric and sudden.

Something was occurring between her legs; a series of shocks centered around her pussy. Gasping, moaning, Charlotte glanced downward. Her wide, brown eyes traced over her oil-washed breasts, her rolling belly, and quaking groin. She didn't see it at first. Her pussy was there, pink and wet, already squirting.

"What's . . . ha . . . hap . . . happening . . . to me!" she gasped. Another shock passed through her body, and she convulsed and came; clear cum erupted from her flower, soaking the tentacles below.

Gasping and groaning again and again, Charlotte took another look and finally saw it, or them.

They were almost invisible among the larger, thicker tentacles but now Charlotte's cum flowed in dewy beads along their lengths. Thin as piano wire, vibrating like guitar strings, they'd erupted from tiny, unseen holes in the floor.

Charlotte couldn't see them earlier, but three of the filaments had entered her and wrapped around her clit. They'd attached to the cluster of nerves responsible for her hair-trigger sensitivity and started a series of subtle vibrations. If not for Charlotte's moans or the wet sounds of the chamber, the vibrations would have registered as a faint hum.

The milf's button reacted by swelling with lust and blood. Orgasms radiated through her womb and out to her torso. She convulsed with clenching muscles all over her body, drowning in waves of pleasure.

"Aaarrrgh!" she howled to near hoarseness.

Nothing in Charlotte's sexual history could match the experience of the moment; not with men, or the women with whom she'd experimented, or even herself, or her toys. She took pleasure in her clit's sensitivity but every previous experience paled against this intensity. She was obliterated, barely able to think through the red lust drowning her reason.

The cum she squirted splattered the tentacles and mingled with their oils. Her eyes were rolled back, her head jammed against the wall. She didn't notice the second pair of tentacles, oil-covered and far thicker than the filaments, ooze from the tubes just above her head.

They hovered just outside her open mouth, waiting for the right opportunity. The tentacles were thick as cable wires; tiny veins wound like vines through their flesh.

An intense orgasm drew a scream from Charlotte's mouth. She opened wide with a ululating howl. "AAAAHHH-Ulp?!" she gulped as her mouth filled with two warm, wet, fleshy objects. The shock was enough to unroll her eyes and wonder a brief,

"What now?"

Her perspective was blurred by the tentacles' proximity but her shocked brown eyes stayed wide open, watching the tentacles enter her unprepared throat. Bile bubbled to the back of her mouth as its gag reflex reacted.

"Oh God! I'm going to puke!"

The burning in her throat was accompanied by a maddening tickle in her voice box.

"Cough! Cough! And now I'm choking,"

she sobbed.

"What does this cave want with me?!"

Her attempts at halting the tentacles' entry were as futile as ever. She tried biting down to prevent further invasion but the fleshy appendages were leather tough. Her clit's stimulation also contributed to the invasion, forcing gasping orgasms which opened her mouth wider.

Charlotte, whose past sexual exploits included oral work, was forced to a reluctant conclusion.

"Ugh! Urgh! I have to swallow these things or I'll choke to death. There's no help for it. Damn it!!"

She tilted her head back slightly and worked her muscles.

"Gulp! Gulp! God! What's going to happen?! Is it force feeding me?! Cough!"

The tentacles slithered through the dark, wet flowing muscles of her esophagus, worming their way to her stomach. It was, for Charlotte, uncomfortable, if not agonizing, and surreal. She was swallowing as if they were two cocks, not impossibly thick or even difficult, once her throat adjusted, but different; cocks were supposed to withdraw.

She ran her tongue around the two "cock-tacles", feeling their texture. They were smooth, leathery like beef jerky, and covered in a slick oil with a bitter, salty taste. They tasted not quite like the sweat on a man's skin.

She theorized, just before her next orgasm, that the oil was intended to ease passage. She felt a spasm in her stomach, partially from orgasm, partly from the tentacles reaching the cavity, and the last from her horror at the implication.

The ship's monitors took stock of the prospect. She was shiny-slick head to toe in oil and sweat. Tentacles stroked her body, working the oils into her skin. The tiny filaments wrapped around her clit, served their purpose, stimulating her sexual response, both to weaken her and make her open for the next stage in the process.

The creature's muscles were tense, defined, mammaries and reproductive area swollen, enhancing her aesthetics. The ship took note that this specimen would be extremely attractive to others of her kind at the moment.

<A most pleasing example of her species.>

the ship thought.

However, preparing the specimen for mating with other primates was not the contract. The ship was a manufacturing plant, not a zoo. The primate had other duties. The bio-monitors indicated the mutagenic oils and machines were doing their work, but further interior modifications were required. Without them, the primate would most likely die an unpleasant, painful death.

<Better hurry this along,>

the ship thought.

<I have a contract to fulfill.>

Charlotte's belly tickled as the tentacles curled within it. "Cough! Cough! Aaauughnn!" she moaned. Her tongue hung slightly out of her mouth and drool dribbled down her chin. "Uuummm! Uuuugh!" she continued.

The ship scrolled through its list of mutagens and chemicals; a required program for inventory.

<Supple Muscle for development and elasticity; Rigel Four Cow Extract for milk and nutrient production; Ovagen for fertility; Posatrine for stamina and resilience; Nanobooster for immune system boost and resistance to injury; Medifix Microbots for quick repair and recovery; plus Orion Pleasure Flower Juice to increase sensitivity in the erogenous zones and endorphin production. Good! It's all there. Beginning bio-conversion in 3 . . . 2 . . .>

Part Two

Charlotte's stomach gurgled. A bubble of gas escaped her throat, turning her orgiastic moan into a comical, "Uuuurrrrp!" Her midsection grew tight as her belly began to bloat. The bloating was slight; more worrying was the mild heat radiating from her stomach.

"Oh fuck! Now what?!"

she thought.

Within her body, alien chemicals and advanced microbots flooded her intestines, entered the bloodstream and, like engineers, went to work. Genes were changed, muscles altered, and hormones flooded her system.

Her mind swirled into a maelstrom, caught in a war between euphoria and terror. Her thoughts became disjointed, filled with staggering questions.

"W . . . wha . . . what . . . what . . . is . . . this . . . this . . . thing . . . doing . . . to . . . meeee!"

The floor at her feet moved. She glanced down; the circular pads were moving apart, spreading her legs.

"Oh no!"

A shudder raced through her body, whether from orgasm, or fear at the unsettling implications, she knew not.

Movement to her back caught her attention. The wall around her ass seemed to have sprung hands.

"Is this wall massaging my ass?"

she asked. The wall molded itself around her ample butt, moving and massaging, until Charlotte realized her butt cheeks were spreading apart as well.

"Oh no! The wall is spreading my ass!"

she gulped, shuddering at the further implications. Her fears were confirmed when a thick, wet hose slipped through her puckered, exposed bunghole and slithered up her rectum. "Uuuunnngh!" the milf moaned. It wasn't the first time for her ass. It accepted the "cock-tacle" from memory of other phallics, but Charlotte gritted her teeth in outrage, as it was uninvited.