Not Just a Blob

This story follows the short descriptive tales of the Blob, a fictional alien character, based in a post war-time, 1960's-esque civilisation. Miranda, a buxom girl of big heart and even bigger breasts, and her friend, Jane, a small and stout beauty of dark hair and hypnotisingly striking features, find discarded barrels of alien fluid. Overcome by the mind controlling power of the alien essence, the two girls mate, being assimilated into the first of a new race of slave women designed for only two purposes until their demise; to spread the precious will sapping fluid to every other human they can find, and give birth to humanoid aliens bred with the genetic ability to survive in Earth's climate.

*****

PART 5

Happy Birthnight to You

***

Like a set of commands scrolling endlessly down the screen of a computer, Miranda's brain repeated the same phrases over and over internally, never stopping, never breaking a beat. Instructions, simple sets of tasks filled her mind. Emptily, her glazed eyes stared forwards, unseeing and unblinking. Her link to her master was strong and ever-present and her empty, will-less brain sucked up as much of His Will as she could possibly hold.

It was evening. Earlier that day, Jane, Miranda's previous best friend and fellow slave to Him, had managed to convert several new slaves to the cause, failing in her initial tasking but succeeding overall with net new stock brought into the brood. Two of those enslaved humans had already been out to the water tanks where Master resided, filling the water supply slowly but surely with his will-sapping Essence, where he had treated them personally, completing his empowerment over them and absorbing their DNA code into his ever growing stockpile. The third was with him now. The nest would soon have enough DNA to begin its first births and Miranda was waiting patiently for Master's results to see if she was needed.

Like a cool rush of water from a tap above her body, she felt His thoughts enter her and she purred imperceptibly. It was time, he was ready. She was needed.

Standing like a marionette, Miranda jerked upright. Naked save for her underwear which itself was slack and uneven on her skin, Miranda stepped into her tight pencil dress and pulled the waist up around her thighs and over her firm, round ass robotically. She kept her head flat and stared straight ahead, gazing in a sort of tender curiosity at the blank wall of her bedroom. She zipped up the zipper and pulled the tight material flat over her legs, the fabric sticking skin-tight to her ass and legs and firmly accentuating her figure, a uniform 'must' around the male-dominated hospital. Her blouse top followed, and as she clipped the equally-as-tight under-top to the skirt with the plain but very in fashion clasps all nurse's uniforms had. Miranda's solidifying nipples began to bear outwards firmly, the very beginning edge of her reward for her complete obedience from Master. Before she had her shirt over her head, the twin mountain peaks perched upon her enormous, buoyant bosom were pushing fiercely out from her clothes, nearly threatening to slice the garments in two from their raging firmness.

Miranda buttoned up the clean jacket, a tight, torso-worn blazer edged in cute silk and adorned with small sliders and pockets for tools a Nurse might need on her rounds, never even having bothered to straighten up her bra or panties. With absolutely no regard for personal appearance - nothing but Master's thoughts occupied her brain, and Master only needed her to look normal from the outside, underwear was irrelevant - she never gave them any concern. She would have walked butt naked from her room all the way outside to His side without even a blink of hesitation had he asked - no, willed - her to.

With the jacket, looking for all the world like the topmost section of a corset but less figure-hugging, done up and her disguise completed, Miranda strode in a daze to her door. She swung it open and left the room without stopping, not even closing the door behind her. She strode purposefully down the hallway, her face and muscles snapping into pose whenever anyone looked at her like she was a computer screen changing appearance so as to seem 'normal' to any onlookers, Miranda made it seven floors down and outside the hospital without a single person giving her a second glance - a second person, that is, bar one, solitary man.

Miranda stepped out the front doors and immediately hung a right, striding around the hospital walls and out of the shining white light of the emergency intake's lights. Her feet crunched on the ground, but as it had rained early that morning the leaves and twigs were soft and mushy. Fifty odd paces away, beside an "emergency exit only" door, three nurses stood around a single rusty old can, smokes in fingers. Their high feminine voices echoed about the dirty surrounds, but no one except those inside the hospital were within fifty kilometres of them.

'-fuckin' just took me in the ass like I was some dumb pub bimbo. I mean, I know I have a reputation, but surely I deserve to take it in the front before you flip me over and give it in my backside?'

The women talked openly with one another, one kicking small sticks by the can on the ground, another crouching, fag between her lips.

'I know, right? It's like that time Jack Walton fucked me. You know him, right? Got a tattoo on his cock?'

'Yeah.'

'Black Dick Jack, I've heard him called.'

'Yeah well fuckin' Black-fuck Jack tried the same with me, except he didn't even start off in my pussy. That motherfucker slipped me onto his bed like I'm worth more than skin and holes to him and then while he whispers some sweet-arse bullshit into my ear he's running his hands around my backside. Next thing I know he's half-way inside and I'm not even fucking horny yet. I tell you, next time I took tried to take a shit it nearly dropped out before I sat down.'

'What, he didn't even spit on it first?' The third, so far silent, asked.

'Spit? Are you joking? I'd have been lucky to get tears for lube with him. Barely even talked to me, just called me sexy names while he groped my butt then pop, up my chute. At least if there were tears then I'd know someone got fucking whipped, even if It was me who-'

She abruptly paused, looking up from her crouch by the can. The other two, previously having not noticed Miranda, looked up too. Miranda gave them a terse smile as she passed their staring gaze. They didn't seem to appreciate a new woman intruding on their apparently somewhat personal exchange and none cared to hide that fact from her. Miranda simply made a quick motion with her hands, first of one with her middle finger dangling between two outstretched, down-pointed fingers, then of that finger inside two looped fingers, sliding back and forth. As though the sign language made sense to them, they turned back to their conversation, although they didn't return to their sexual encounters until Miranda was once more out of earshot.

Miranda, for her part, reset to her blank, zombified stare. Of course it hadn't been her doing the move to the three women. Her brain still wirelessly linked to her Master, he had used what he had learned - predominantly from the two women Jane had acquired earlier that day - to signal something to the women that didn't require her to stop but dissuaded the girls from following. The sign - finger representations of a man, the standing figure with the limp middle digit, then of sex - the age-old finger-in-hole motion representative of sex the world over - simply made it look like Miranda, nervous, was going outside to meet a Doctor for sex. Most likely, as with ninety-five percent of intercourse in the hospital, it was an arrangement dominated by the man.

Miranda left the girls under the neon glow of the door light and as she went, she could sense them begin to bicker again, the first part of their conversation about her. In truth she didn't sense it - her Master sensed it through her body, but in essence she sensed it too. They muttered, but none of them came remotely close to her true reason for being out here.

It was cold and the wind bit at her bare skin, making it prickle and ripple. Though it reacted to the cold, Miranda felt nothing but warm, drowning bliss. The hospital had otherwise blocked the wind, but behind the facility the cold air blasted down from the distant hills and across the skeletons of the once great city. Icy air nipped at her heels and licked up the insides of her thighs, chilling the layers of both damp and dry wetness deep in the darkness of her thin skirt. Though they were already as hard as human nipples could be, Miranda's stood out further still, now all but plainly visible through both layers of clothing she wore over them.

Miranda reached the tanks and stood, her heart beating hard despite having no will to excite it. The simple blissful knowledge that she was obeying so willingly and freely brought her utter joy, but selflessly obeying his special needs was just so much more intoxicatingly pleasurable that, had Miranda had her own brain in her head, she would most likely have fallen to her knees, shaking as she began to flow freely in unassisted orgasm.

For a few minutes, nothing seemed to happen. Miranda stood, unmoving, the cold wind whipping any loose strands of clothing around her slender form, though there were very few as a nurses' uniform is mostly figure-hugging and skin-tight.

Eventually, as Miranda's bosom rose and fell in the wind, her back straight, her body - and her three firm nubs, two on her chest and one between her legs - standing to attention. Before her, from a tap in the side of the tank, something was dripping. But it didn't drip.

At first, it looked like water. Crystalline and glinting in the night light, rivulets of liquid formed around the tap at several points around the rim. More droplets still formed, and before long some began to form on previous droplets. Within minutes, a small cylinder was beginning to form on the end of the tap, its entire form rippling and forming fluidly.

The entire process took about ten minutes, and Miranda watched over it valiantly, both awaiting its completion and guarding it from passers. Though her eyes roamed the landscape and her ears listened for the women around the corner who might be approaching, no one came. No one would come. It was too cold and too late, and anyone still up was either on night duty or on private duties.

Eventually the cylinder formed. Where once it had been a collection of water droplets formed like an icicle from the tap, now it was a thick, curving crystal structure, still fluid in texture but solid and strong. It twisted in smooth, soft curves up from the tap, twisting a one-eighty-degree turn so it pointed upwards, then tilting so it straightened out somewhat. Although Jane, Miranda's best friend and fellow slave, had set out earlier that day to enslave a doctor named Centiago, an expert in female anatomy and reproduction, so that Master could use his knowledge in necessary inseminations, the two nurses Emily and Jemima had had plenty of memories in sexual intercourse and had provided enough for Him to learn the necessary details. This formation was his penis, a cock formed form his Life Essence, one bent up towards Miranda's hips and ready to go to work inside her.

Miranda didn't need any instructions, not just because there was nothing inside her to obey them but because she already knew what she had to do without needing her Master to will it. Her body was ready long before the day had come.

Drawing the hem of her skirt up around her waist, Miranda pried her soaked panties off her crotch and dropped them around her ankles, stepping out of them without missing a step. As she reached the phallus, she turned, presented her ass backwards to the length, and, bending at the knees but keeping her back tight and her tits firmly out before her, she impaled herself slowly but steadily on the member. It slid into her entryway effortlessly, parting her lips and widening her canal with a well-lubricated silent slide. She sat on it, taking the entire length down to the more tightly curved section deep inside her, penetrating inside her right up to her cervix.

Miranda's lips parted and her eyes fluttered closed, but she otherwise made no reaction to the impalement other than performing it. Thick, wet and long, it buried itself deep in her body, her insides visible through the clear frosted crystal cylinder in her. Gently she rocked along it, helping it to wiggle deeper into her body, and as she did so she tried to widen her entryway and present herself more to her Master. Despite her mind being completely gone and her body being only a remote controlled slave, a unit tied to her Master's will like a dog on a leash, she still felt the ecstasy of the intercourse as the phallus filled her body.

It wasn't like ordinary sex. Although a length occupied her vagina, Miranda didn't fuck the length inside her, nor did it stimulate her to orgasm. It gave her excruciatingly extreme pleasure to serve and have Him in her, but she obeyed His will and let him do as he needed. Her pussy pulsed with her heartbeat around the length inside her, and it slipped deeper inch by inch as time passed. Miranda rocked slightly, and her face couldn't help but show the bliss of her copulation, but otherwise the interconnected entities remained still bar the snaking length stretching into her body, slowly sliding deeper.

After a minute or so, with a muted cracking, popping sound, Miranda's stomach distended slightly and the rod visibly extended inside her. The cracking sound had not been nothing, and after a few moments Miranda slowly pulled away from the length, revealing that the icicle-like member had snapped cleanly through a few inches into her vaginal cavity. She stood slowly, tentatively, straightening up with the solid length buried inside her body. Through her stomach, the tip of the penile shape could be seen pressing underneath her belly button. As she watched it, gazing in dull wonderment down at her body, the shape slowly began to dissipate and her temporary internal protrusion dissipated. Inside her, to her own utter muscle-frying delight, the shaft began to flow as though it were melting, shrinking somewhat but also thoroughly wetting the way for it to start to slither up her cavity and inside her. Her eyes fluttered unwittingly and unbidden as it squirmed up her vagina and into her uterus.

Many moments passed with very little movement. Behind her still bared ass, the rod - her Master's cock, a form made entirely of his essence and specifically channelled so that he could inseminate her with it - began to shrink into water once more, soaking back up through itself into the tap, eventually returning completely inside the tank as though it had never been there.

Miranda stood there, empty mind, full uterus. Inside her womb the appendage squirmed around, wetting its own home, properly preparing it to be the breeding ground it would soon become. Miranda remained still, holding her shirt up limply, her eyes closed and rolled back into her head. Wetness - her own and the stray streaks of her Master's life force - freely ran down the inside of her legs, dampening her stockings. Master provided her no commands, so she remained, oblivious to the world, needing nothing but Him to order her to her next action.

After several more minutes, the living cock buried in her womb settled and her stomach returned to stillness, once more flat and smooth. Miranda's eyes returned, glazed, unfocussed, to the world and she let her eyelids open. Though she didn't say it aloud, nor did she actively think it, she thanked her Master with all her very being for his glorious gift. She would cherish and care for it with her life - indeed, it would need it, and it would happily let her give it up for its own safety, either in sacrifice to ward off attackers, or later, when something else would happen.

Eventually, as the moon rose higher in the sky, Master returned to her mind and Miranda all at once returned to conscious thought. Quickly, she straightened her clothes and made sure all was well with her appearance so as not to alert anyone, then, his Mind guiding her every action, she began to return to the hospital.

*

You might think it would take a while for a baby to form inside Miranda - and indeed, as far as the Alien's reproductive cycles were concerned, it did. However, for Miranda, it took mere hours.

For the rest of the evening, little happened, and Miranda performed an exemplary night shift, cleaning, checking on patients and preparing for the Doctors' days ahead. The entire time, cold, sticky, glistening wetness - strange wetness, oddly unnatural - soaked the inside of her skirt and ran down her legs, never stopping. It was beginning to reach her shoes through natural paths soaked into her stockings before morning arrived.

Come morning, as the sun rose on a dark and foreboding landscape and the hospital began to wake, Miranda's now much more distended body began to shake. At first, small pains deep in her vagina rang out inside her, pains that felt like they came from up inside her uterus. Not long after, Miranda felt her stomach churning. As per her Master's will, which had been diligently controlling her all night, she was stationed near her dorm room and when the contractions began she was already running there. As the first push began inside her body her door flew open and she burst in, rushing to her bedroom. A wet splashing sound seemed to follow her as she dashed to her room. Her roommates, Jessica and Zoe who shared a bunk in the main living area, jumped awake at the explosive intrusion, but she ignored them and slammed her door behind her. Swearing and complaining, Jessica told Miranda's closed door to have some fucking consideration and not be such a rude dick-whore. Neither she nor her door made any response, and Zoe, moaning in the cold, was forced to get up and shut the outside door once more.

Inside Miranda's room, she was already tearing her skirt away; her suddenly very powerful arms ripping the fabric clean off her hips. Equally as impatiently she tore her shirt and jacket off as one, and flung the undershirt up after it, her chest now bared, her glorious breasts rising and falling as she panted. She glared down at her crotch, her legs wide on the edge of the bed. Both hands gripped the sheets under her. She could already feel herself stretching as her first born made its way down her passageway. As he slithered through her cervix and down her ribbed vaginal cavity, she threw her head back and moaned loud and long, a throaty, guttural groan. She pushed her pussy out further still, trying to widen her legs for her baby to emerge, but it didn't need the help. Her own juices and his fluids had thoroughly lubricated her and she stretched wide around him easily.

To call it him is an interesting choice of words. The thing that squirmed from Miranda's cunt was, indeed, technically a male, but at present it looked nothing like a human one. Transparent, with a body like the criss-crossing network of cracks inside a polished crystal, a long, thick tubular creature emerged from Miranda's body, a thick slop of creamy wetness dribbling out from the bottom of her labia as it went. About six inches long and with a slightly thinner tail, the thing had eight small, highly mobile fins, four spaced evenly around its body in two rings. As its thickest part emerged and it slopped easily out of Miranda, her cavity left wide and dark and pulsating at the thick mass gone from in it, it flapped its fins and squirmed about at her feet.

But she wasn't done.

Just as she was riding down the high of her firstborn leaving her, she felt another stomach-lurching thickening of her cervix and she tensed against her bed, moaning long and hard as, this time, her second-born's birth sent her crashing into orgasm. She pulsed and bucked, her knees kicking inwards, fighting her own muscles trying to keep them held apart as her stomach rolled and she sucked in air hoarsely between moans and screams. The pounding orgasm helped her second-born leave her and in each wave of her pelvic muscles convulsing and tightening around him, he squirmed forwards a little, his thick body only heightening and prolonging her explosion. As he too plopped from her cunt, his tail dragging with it a thick stream of female ejaculate mixed with crystal clear alien fluids, his sister was already on her way. Miranda didn't bother holding on anymore and fell back on the bed, her entire body shaking, her waves of jumping, jolting orgasm now turning into violent spasms that locked up her entire muscular system with each pulse. Her moans came in clamped, janky gasps that sounded like those she'd make if she were being fucked so hard she couldn't retain air on each thrust.