Iris's Late Night Experiment

Night had fallen again.

Everyone on the now stranded Company starship Naglfar was ostensibly asleep for the night. The corridors were silent and the lights were off. All was quiet. Quiet enough to allow anyone listening carefully to make out a soft sound coming from deep inside the vessel.

Stephanie Jobsworth, manager of human resources, lay awake in her bed, trying to figure out what the hell was making that damned sound. She dreaded the thought that it was one of the ship's countless systems on the fritz. The Company had decided that it would be cheaper to send her and the other women to this god forsaken planet without any engineering support. After all, the ship had done its sole job of landing them all on this planet, its engines promptly shutting down, never to run again. And now here she was, on a vessel none of them completely understood, wondering where they would all go if its systems stopped working.

There it was again. It sounded like a quiet squeal. She swung her legs out of bed and made her way out into the corridor to investigate. After some time she came upon a door marked LAB-37. Biological specimen analysis. She heard the sound again -- squeaking this time. Or perhaps laughter?

She peered through the small window on the door. At first she saw only the light of several computer monitors displaying what looked like bioreadouts and other sciency stuff. She didn't know much about the tech the company used but she knew enough to be able to tell the screen she was looking at showed information about a human subject. She looked away from the screens and into the darkness of the rest of the room. When her eyes adjusted she was stunned at what she saw.

Iris, the lead biologist on their mission, lay naked atop a large specimen crate. The lid had been unlatched. It shifted and sometimes bounced, causing Iris's ample breasts to jiggle a little in the light of the computer displays. Stephanie soon realized what was making it move. Numerous tentacles had shoved their way through the crack offered by the unlocked lid and were sliding up along the top and onto Iris's body. She covered her mouth when Iris squealed and giggled as a few of the tentacles rubbed against her, apparently tickling her.

Stephanie forced herself to stop watching the unfolding scene. She would deal with this in the morning. No, that wasn't right. She had to do something about this.. this.. inappropriate use of Company samples. She heard another squeal and a laugh from inside. Company employees weren't supposed to use the alien specimens they collected for their own personal pleasure. What the hell was she thinking?

She stealthily peered through the window again and covered her mouth, her eyes widening. Iris's legs had spread wide open, her now obviously aroused vulva on full display. A pair of small tentacles were exploring it, gently parting her lips. The sight was as mesmerizing as it was outrageous. But what was she supposed to do about it? Barge in and yell at her to stop? What if that allowed the tentacles to escape the room and... and... what?

With more difficulty this time she forced herself to stop watching. "God fucking dammit," she mouthed to herself as another squeal came from inside the lab. She noticed her own breathing was a little faster now. Was she certain this wasn't a dream? Why the hell would she dream something as bizarre as this? She had to stop this. Tomorrow she would--

A soft cry came from within the lab. Unable to stop herself, Stephanie peered through the window again. She barely suppressed a gasp. One of the tentacles had pushed itself into Iris's vagina and was moving in and out of her rhythmically as the others continued to tickle and play with her. There was a hypnotic quality to it all, the way they slid across her body as she writhed and laughed, sometimes moaning, under the gentle onslaught of pleasure.

She felt her heart pound as she watched, knowing she had to do something. And she would do something. Tomorrow. Yes. Tomorrow she would talk with Iris, tell her to stop, warn her that if she didn't she would be forced to-- Iris's face twisted between laughter and ecstasy as she squirmed and writhed. Her toes curled as she rhythmically slid up and down on the top of the crate, her body laying on countless plump tendrils that worked both as a makeshift bed and as a multi-appendaged sex toy.

Her body seemed to glow a little as-- Something was wrong. Stephanie couldn't see as clearly, as though her vision was blurring, the light of the computers taking on a distinct halo as well. She blinked, looking away only to see the corridor around her clearly. Turning back to the small window, she realized to her horror that the glass had fogged over, wet with her own breathing. She reached up to clean it, stopping herself as she realized Iris might hear her or see her hands rubbing at the glass.

"Get a hold of yourself," she whispered.

She decided it would be best not to return to the lab door and made her way back to her quarters.

As she lay in bed her heart raced. She was horrified by what Iris had done, she told herself angrily. What a terrible thing for her to have watched. What a wicked thing for her to have done. That was why her heart wouldn't slow down and why she was having such a hard time relaxing her body. And why she felt an unease about Iris -- something small and growing. Something like resentment. Or envy.