WintermuteX Stories

Alien: Insemination

By WintermuteX

Tags: M+g, monster, nc, rape, reluc, pedo, preg, scifi

Content: Rape, Impregnation, Pedophilia, Xenomorph (Alien franchise)


Sarah held out her gloved hand for the instrument, and her assistant put the tiny scalpel in it. Sarah adjusted the large magnifier that sat between her and the specimen on the dissection table, and then tapped her cigarette on the edge of the ashtray.

The thing was grotesque: a white, bulbous, rubbery body with 8 long spindly legs like some kind of nightmarish spider. It lay on its back on the metal table, legs in the air, the exposed underside resembling a horrifying mishmash of ruined genitalia.

Both of her assistants made faces as she arranged the organ with her fingers. Although alien in origin, the base approximated a succession of labial flaps, with a phallic, flexible extension jutting from the center. Sarah grasped the girth with her hand, and began to cut.

"See? It's just as we suspected. This evolved Type B doesn't destroy its victims." Sarah lectured for the benefit of the recorder as she expertly dissected the alien creature. "Here. See this respiratory structure? The facehugger can use its penis to control oxygen supply as well as feeding. Ejaculate is released from here." She tapped a miniscule channel with her scalpel.

"This organ resembled an ovipositor in the original specimens, but it's adapted already. The tail is unchanged."

"Oh. That's...that's very...interesting" Kittie was holding her stomach as if sick. She swallowed, then adjusted her enormous glasses, blushing with embarrassment. Sarah grinned behind her medical mask. The skinny girl had better get a stronger stomach, she thought, and fast. She wondered if Kittie was still a virgin.

"What does this resemble?" She asked Kittie, grasping the penile girth and pointing it at the teenager, making it flop obscenely.

"It um...a...a penis."

"Yes. It's incorporated human DNA. In the original specimen, this " - Sarah tapped the tip of the horrid thing - "would go in your mouth and supply you with air and nutrients while this " - she tapped the tail - "would wrap itself around your throat to keep you docile."

"But it serves a double function now. Where do you think this would go?" Sarah tapped the penis again. Normally she would enjoy teasing her assistants a lot more, but now she just felt tired.

"In, in a vagina."

"Yes Kittie. It would go in your pussy." Sarah wasn't going to mince words or spare her assistant's feelings. They were long past that. She surveyed the thick rod of meat in her hand for a few moments longer, wondering just what exactly it would feel like. Slippery? Wiggly? Maybe they would all be getting some first-hand observations before long.

She shook her head to dispel the thought, and then dipped her scalpel expertly into the body and came away with an egg-shaped organ.

"Analyze this along with the 630 solution please," she said, handing what she presumed was an alien testicle to Jessie, her other assistant. "This can tell us the protein content of the ejaculate. Maybe it's nutritious. We'll find out."

Jessie made an appropriate face but she did as she was instructed, weighing the sample and then taking it to the other side of the lab for analysis.

"Specimen 47 displays adaptive properties consistent with the increased incorporation of human genetic material," Sarah went on, dictating her findings for the recorder. "Procreative structures suggest a dual function of oral intercourse, controlling air and nutrient supply of the victim, and vaginal intercourse, leading to insemination. Fertility and gestative properties are untested, thankfully, but presumed potent through secondary observation."

Sarah flicked a switch to turn off the recorder and then snapped her mask off.

"Another dead end," she muttered. She already had enough samples of cellular material. She was hoping to discover another clue through anatomical analysis of one of the more evolved specimens, but it hadn't told her anything she didn't already know.

"Incinerate this," she snapped, gesturing at the half-dissected specimen. Kittie ducked her head and adjusted her glasses before hauling the trays away.

Sarah sighed and dropped into the nearest lab chair. The gloomy lighting and dismal metal walls of the lab did nothing to enhance her mood.

"Do we have any more of that dehydrated pseudo-meat?" she asked Jessie.

"Sorry Dr. Stettman," the girl grimaced. "We ate the last of it yesterday. All we have left is dehydrated soy, and only a week's worth."

Sarah would have made a face, but she found she didn't care. Nothing seemed to matter any more. Not even running out of rations and starving.

"Dr. Stettman?"

Sarah turned, feeling numb. Jessie was looking at her. At 18, she was older than Kittie, with an athletic build, but the fearful look on her face made her seem small and vulnerable.

"Are...are we going to be ok?" Jessie asked.

Sarah had a brief vision: the teenage girl, naked, her long brown hair caked with slime, panting in exertion as a terrifying monster rammed a thick organ into her pussy from behind.

She didn't know what to say. Yes? Should she just lie? The truth was that there was only one person whose fate mattered to Sarah, and she had already failed her.

Kittie came back and stood by Jessie, letting her arm slip around the other girl's shoulders. At least they weren't pretending anymore.

Sarah let out a long breath. "Let's see how the delta-chain experiment turns out, ok? Maybe that will give us something to go on." Their longest-running genetic analysis yet might reveal some weaknesses to viruses typically more hostile to plant life. Maybe there would be some crossover that would work on the alien tissue. Maybe. Sarah didn't really have much hope.

Her assistants frowned at her together, and the depressing air of the lab deepened. Sarah wasn't any good at this touchy-feely stuff. She got up from the chair.

"I'm going to my office", she huffed. "Maybe I'll find something else by watching the monitors, another clue to their behavior...something." She swallowed around the lump in her throat. Jessie and Kittie just looked at her, nervously, then exchanged scared glances. She left them hunched over the lab bench and went into her office and closed the door.

She flopped into the worn-out office chair and took another drag from her dying cigarette. The long stub of ash finally dropped and collapsed into a white puff on the metal grating of the floor. It didn't matter anymore. None of it mattered. How long had she been watching these monitors? Her mind was numb, numb from the endless screams that echoed through metal corridors and into her dreams, the wailing of girls and women slowly transforming from frightened cries into howls of pleasure. The Xenomorph specimens they had retrieved from LV426 had evolved in ways she could never have imagined. Sarah had studied every change, picking them apart at the genetic level. They were faster now, stronger. They could breathe Earth's atmosphere much more easily. Their swimming ability had vastly improved. Even the underwater shelters weren't safe. Their organs had reshaped themselves with every generation, anatomy molding itself around nascent adaptations.

The Xenomorph cock had evolved too. The Earth Breed had adapted a phallus longer, thicker, more flexible with less-pronounced ridges and a more uniform vascular inflation - a couple samples still floated in the biotank by the door. Another useless datapoint. The pheromonal secretions of those cocks were ecstasy. She pondered what the Company could have made from that one biological process alone: drugs that dulled pain like nothing else, medicines to prolong potency and cure impotence, sexual enhancements that would have put the normal human experience to shame. Humans loved to fuck. They would have paid the whole world for what the Company could have sold them. She almost sympathized with the board's decision to keep the creatures instead of exterminating them. Almost. Now every human woman was getting a special injection of those pheromones straight from the source.

How ironic, she mused, that the Company had wanted to use the alien DNA, but now that DNA was using them. Alien DNA, spurted into human wombs, mixing with the human genome, producing ever more adaptable Xenomorph types. The Type B facehugger was just another example. They had started out as mere parasites, but what kind of parasite can survive by killing its host? So it had adapted. But it wasn't even right even to call the alien creatures parasites. Their mutative breeding process had no terrestrial analogue. Totally foreign. "Perfect", Sarah muttered to herself. The perfect dominator. Adaptive to any environment. Rape. Breed. Evolve.

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. The monitor above her desk flicked on when she pressed the blue button on the keyboard. It was an old system - ancient even. The Company paid top-dollar for some things, then turned around and skimped on vital equipment. She had initially balked at doing her research on such outdated computers. But when she had found out what they were working alien lifeform unlike anything ever encountered, with methods of genetic expression that turned known science on its head, well, she would have agreed to anything.

Her fingers moved over the keyboard, accessing the installation's telemetry system. As a senior researcher, she had access to every sensor, audio pickup, and camera in the entire complex. She selected the visual feeds and then picked an older record at random.

"Sub-deck #3 Cooling Intake Filtration Plant. Camera 7 - Interior."

The screen flicked between frames of static and then steadied, showing the powerful monstrosity that loomed over the woman and the two girls. Vitreous fluid coated their struggling forms, giving rise to steamy waves as it dissolved their clothes. The Xenomorph had dragged all three by their ankles, kicking and screaming, into the breeding chamber of their hive. It finally let them drop, and the woman cried and gathered the two little girls - around 11 and 12 years old by the looks of it - to her chest, hugging them and weeping as if she could protect them from what was to come. Stupid. Other aliens waited, nestling in the slime of the curving alcoves that dotted every surface of the hive interior.

Some feeble form of bravery finally surfaced in the woman when the alien advanced. She got to her feet and screamed defiantly, then leaped forward as if prepared to tear the monster apart with her hands. It pushed her aside effortlessly, and the naked woman tumbled across the exposed metal grate into the corner, landing face-first next to an egg. The leathery body trembled, and the skin divided into a wide X on top, 4 tips folding back gracefully like blossoming flower petals. A brief moment was all the woman had to scream in terror before the newly-hatched facehugger exploded from the egg, wrapping itself hungrily around her face and coiling its tail around her throat, twitching bodily with excitement. The woman tumbled backwards.

The aliens didn't waste a lot of time, Sarah thought. No flirting, no smoldering looks, no dinners and drinks and long walks on the beach. They lined up the mother and her two daughters and went to work. The little girls' screams went on for hours. At least their mother didn't have to watch, Sarah thought. The new face huggers didn't compulsively choke you out, they just kept you docile. She could still hear though: the sounds her daughters made as clawed, alien hands explored their young bodies, pulled their legs apart, and rammed their bulging black cocks into their tiny cunts, stealing their virginity and pumping them full of alien sperm.

Sarah hit the record button so she could dictate.

"Subjects: Two girls of age approximately 11 and 12 years old, and one older female of approximately 30 years of age. Medical history: unknown. Reactions indicate motherly attachment between the older subject and the younger ones. Exposure: repeated intercourse."

She paused. Such a good little scientist, she snarled at herself. Make sure to get every little detail. She brushed the feeling aside. Any clue, anything at all, might have some bearing on their work. She continued dictating.

"Sexual behavior is consistent with the previously observed rapacious breeding instinct. Xenomorph activity when exposed to the human females is baseline. Older subject is restrained by a Xeno Type B 'facehugger' prior to sexual activity. Oral, anal, and vaginal intercourse are enthusiastically pursued with all three human participants, with the exception of the older subject, whose face and airway are blocked by the Type B."

Sarah continued watching. The Xenos would take turns for hours, she knew, before restraining all the girls with resin and letting their pregnancies develop.

"Both younger subjects undergo exposure to substantial amounts of ejaculatory material covering their breasts, bellies, thighs, and legs. Internal emissions of ejaculate appear copious and result in visible discharge from each orifice. The Xenos appear typically dismissive of attempts at resistance from the subjects, as well as visible indications of distress."

On the monitor, the younger girl cowered on her hands and knees, her 11-year-old body bucking wildly as the powerful alien pelvis rammed her butt from behind. Her tears mixed with the gelatinous alien cum that caked her body. The older sister was on her back, prepubescent body quivering wildly as the Xenomorph between her legs plunged its massive phallus into her slit. The girls cried out and reached for each other, pulling together, naked bodies lubricated by the alien slime until their faces hovered an inch apart, staring upside-down into each other's terrified face. The aliens slammed in to the hilt in both of their pussies and the girls abruptly came together, tiny bodies jerking and thrumming with the rhythm of the twitching black cocks stuffed inside them. Sarah watched impassively

"Xenomorph copulatory behavior is consistent with past observations. Simultaneous penetration of youngest subject's vagina, anus, and mouth are observed." Sarah felt nothing but apathy as the little 11-year-old was pulled on top of an alien for another round and a thick alien cock slammed home into each hole. The mother wasn't getting it any less, but the facehugger was keeping her properly submissive by restricting her air.

Suddenly feeling impatient, Sarah slammed the buttons on her keyboard to back out of the recording and go to the live feeds. It only took her a few minutes to find them.

"Addendum: Six weeks post to initial sexual exposure. Subjects retained in the same area of the hive in which they were initially introduced. Resinous excretions used to restrain all three subjects upright against the hive wall in the typical manner: arms and legs spread, orifices exposed. Visual observation confirms active and progressed gestation in all three subjects, confirming that Xeno insemination of humans can occur even before the typical human age of fertility."

What a trio they made, Sarah thought: two tiny little girls with their mother between them, all plastered to the wall with dark, sticky strands holding them up. Good little breeders for the hive, their bodies covered with drying alien sperm and their bellies full and sagging. She felt a sudden flush of warmth, and managed to push it away.

"Personal Notes: Progression typical. All factors consistent with current observations, with the exception of a facehugger used for restraint of the mother. The facehuggers are more commonly used for infiltration and covertly bootstrapping a Xeno population than they are for assisting with reproduction in the hive." Sarah paused for a moment, thinking, then shrugged and hit the button to stop recording. Maybe there weren't any human settlements to infiltrate anymore. They had been cut off in this lab for so long. As far as she knew, the Xenos had spread everywhere on Earth. Maybe the facehuggers didn't have anything else to do.

She turned off the monitor and leaned back in her chair. With the screen off, it was dark in her office, the only light from the sterile white glare of the table lamp. She looked at the ceiling and closed her eyes, running her hands over her face. The weeks of stress were getting to her. Experiment after experiment, failure after failure. She had been so confident when they first started. The lab was isolated. It had its own power. Its own water and air. Now they had nothing to show for all their work and they were running out of food. It wouldn't be long now. Sarah thought that she should feel some kind of terror or pain at that thought, but there was just the growing apathy and...the other thing, that feeling that she didn't want to think about. The reason she kept coming back to the monitors over and over.

When they had figured out how to trap the facehuggers, she thought they had won. A genetic virus would be so easy. Just catch-and-release a few of the little buggers and let them return to their own kind. She hadn't counted on them dying so rapidly in captivity, or on the one that almost got out and had to be put down...

They started to come back, as they always did when she was brooding. Flashes. A distant voice, a scream, fading away down a tunnel. She saw it again. Even with her eyes closed, Sarah's wearied brain played a movie for her, reminding her of her failure, forcing her to relive it yet again. How many times do I have to see this? Every time I go through and try to think what I could have done differently. Every time.

Angie, I'd do anything to have you back. I...I'd do anything to be with you again.

She was running through the metal corridors, terrified, holding her daughter in her arms. They plunged through the harsh spotlights of the facility as a recorded voice blared out from above.

"ALERT: This facility is under quarantine. All civilian personnel please proceed to the nearest designated shelter areas. Access is restricted in the following areas: Upper adjunct floors 2,3,5,8. Sublevels C and D. Please observe all proper security and quarantine procedures. ALERT: This facility is under quarantine..."

Sarah turned a corner and dashed down the darkened hallway, feet pounding on the metal grates. They passed a series of amber lights flashing as they rotated on the wall.

"Mom?!" Angie huddled in her arms, terrified.

"It's ok sweetie! It's ok!" Sarah gulped as she tried to reassure her daughter. The alarm had come in the middle of the night. Quarantine could mean only one thing: the samples from LV426 that they were studying had lost containment. The worst possible scenario. She had grabbed her sleepy daughter out of her bed, left everything behind, and run as fast as she could.

"Mom I'm scared!" Angie was crying against her chest. The strobing lights and blaring voice were too much for a 10-year-old girl. She huddled with her arms wrapped around Sarah's neck, sobbing.

Sarah didn't know what to say. Angela might be scared, but Sarah was descending into raw terror. The alarm hadn't been shut off. It was still going. That meant containment was still lost. And an extended loss of containment was the worst scenario imaginable. They had planned for almost everything, but not this.

"Quarantine," she mumbled, gasping as she ran. "Got to get to quarantine." She could drop Angie off. The girl would be safe in the sealed environment. Then Sarah would have to go to the central labs, try to figure out what was going on, how they could get control of the specimens again. She rounded a corner, almost slipping on the metal floor. Just a little farther.

A metal grate exploded off the wall, smashing cruelly into her arm. Sarah screamed and stumbled. A frenzied hiss filled her ears and the flashing lights revealed brief images of terrifying claws and an enormous jaw of black flesh. Terror froze her heart and she heard Angie's scream join her own.

Angie was yanked from her arms and pulled across the metal floor, screeching. Sarah yelled and reached for her. A pair of massive clawed hands were wrapped around the girl's ankles. Sarah kicked herself forward and grabbed for her daughter's reaching hands. Flickering strobes of amber light illuminated the gaping duct and the black, bony arms reaching out from inside. Angela screamed bloody murder as she was pulled backward, her eyes bulging with terror. Her feet entered the duct. Sarah felt her grip slipping against the overwhelming strength pulling her daughter away. Scrabbling fingers grazed her palm as Angela's left hand was pulled out of her grasp, and then the right.

Sarah grabbed hysterically, crying and screaming, and barely caught hold of something. Cloth. Angie's blue dress. It was her birthday today and Sarah had got it for her. Angie had worn it all day, and they had stayed up late until the girl went to bed still wearing it.

The cloth strained, then ripped in Sarah's hands, and Angie was yanked violently backwards, her last expression one of raw terror before her face disappeared into the duct. Sarah leaped forward and howled as she slammed her arms inside, fishing for her daughter, for anything, but she felt only the cold metal walls of the duct. Angie was gone. Sarah slammed her head against the metal and wailed helplessly. She was much too big to fit.

She looked down at the blue strip of cloth in her hands, blinking through the tears. The shoulder strap of the dress. Angie was gone. That must have been one of the specimens, but it was enormous! They had never let them grow to full size. The loss of containment must be total.

Sarah sat there, weeping, paralyzed, until she suddenly jumped when a hand dropped onto her shoulder. She whirled around to find a marine staring at her with a concerned look.

"Ma'am! You can't stay here. There's been a containment breach." She stared at his dumb expression, as if he thought she couldn't hear the loud announcement that had been blaring through the entire complex corridor for the last twenty minutes.

"Where the fuck were you?" She screamed and stood up and smashed her fist against his chest. "WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU?!" She smacked him again, hysterically. Angie! They took Angela! She was out of control, crying. She couldn't see. She flailed wildly against him.

He reached out and tried to grab her, but she tore out of his grasp and ran. She turned a corner blindly and kept running, shrieking, her mind whirling with despair. Those idiots couldn't protect her. The quarantine areas would be useless. There were multiple redundant safeguards to keep the specimens from breaching containment, and they had all apparently failed. They hadn't planned for this. It was inconceivable. And her little girl! Her mind was frozen on the image of those bony arms pulling her screaming daughter into the black pit in the wall.

She shook her head as she ran and tried to get it together. She couldn't go to a quarantine area. They couldn't keep the specimens out if the breach was this bad. She thought, furiously, spurred on by the image of her daughter being ripped from her arms. There was only one chance: the secondary lab area was completely isolated from the main complex. She could drop the bulkheads and nothing would be able to get in. And with the right equipment, she could do something: she could figure out a way to get containment again, or at least kill all the specimens. She could get her daughter back. She was one of the most brilliant genetic engineers in the world. If she couldn't do it, nobody could.

She changed direction and kept running, managing to push her terror down and control it. This could work. She went for the stairwells and began to feel more confident with every sublevel that she descended. Maybe it was the adrenaline, but she was almost feeling ok as she got to sublevel 20 and tore down the main corridor.

"Dr. Stettman?!"

The mousey teenager in the lab coat goggled at her as Sarah slammed open the door and flew inside the lab. Sarah ignored her, running across to the control panel and breaking the glass covering a series of shielded switches. She slammed them all down, and heard the comforting mechanical whine of the bulkhead dropping out in the corridor.

"What are you still DOING here?" She screamed as she whirled. Kittie was behind the lab desk, but she shrank from Sarah's imposing presence, her eyes blinking in confusion behind her enormous glasses.


"I asked her to stay and help me."

Sarah turned and saw Jessie, also in her lab coat, behind the other desk. The girl's long, brown hair was suspiciously mussed.

"The experiment, Dr. Stettman. You remember, the second run for the A-series progression? It's ready tonight." Jessie gestured at the array of cultures on the lab desk.

"The experiment? But...the alarms, why are you..." Sarah was panting, dazed, coming down from the rush of horror that had dominated her night.

Jessie shrugged. "We couldn't just leave them. We'd lose the samples. What's going on Dr. Stettman? Something about a containment breach?"

Sarah swooned, and Kittie barely got a chair under her before she dropped.

"We have to...we have to..." Sarah couldn't get the words out. She gulped and tried again. "Throw all those away." She gestured at the A-series cultures.

"Throw them away?" Jessie frowned in confusion.

"Clear the lab. Everything." Her lab assistants weren't working on anything really important anyway. There was only one job that mattered now: contain the specimens so she could get her daughter back. "All of it. Incinerate it. I want it gone in 10 minutes. You're going to help me with something much more important."

They were young, and confused, but they did as she asked. She was the boss after all. Sarah didn't bother asking why they wanted to be in the lab alone together. She ignored them and went to her office. It was only when she finally sat and forced herself to relax that she realized she was still holding the scrap of her daughter's dress in a white-knuckled grip.

"The lysine-exclusion?"

Jessie shook her head sadly.

"What about the beta factor progression?" Sarah asked.

"Sorry Dr. Stettman," Kittie frowned. "No joy. They both were adapted to after the third generation."

Sarah stood dumbly, considering both the lab desks and the cultures. Two more dead ends. The last ones, really. All of their experiments over the last several weeks had yielded nothing. The dissection yesterday had given no more clues, and now the last of their long-running experiments had ended in failure.

She went and sat at the lab desk, staring at the monitor. It displayed a regression analysis for growth factors based on a modified viral vehicle they had adapted. Useless. The Xenos were too adaptable. Anything she developed simply became ineffective against the second or third generation after exposure.

Jessie and Kittie were quietly talking. Did they realize their impending fate? Sarah hadn't dare let them see the monitors. Maybe she should. Let them see the horror that awaited them. Sarah was numb to it already, except for that slight flush of warmth, that seeping wetness and that tiny voice that whispered in her brain every time she let herself truly contemplate the doom that had come them all.

Without saying a word, she got up and went to her office, then slumped into her chair. She touched the keyboard and set the monitor to show the news, or what was left of it. A few faint, automated broadcasts, still showing their useless messages. Alien threat. Evacuation orders. Hysteria. She flicked between channels.

"...alien threat of unknown origin has taken root on the Eastern seaboard..."


"...scattered reports of the violent creatures clashing with marines and armed forces..."


"...citizens warned to stay away. The creatures are extremely violent and their blood seems to be highly acidic..."


"...unconfirmed reports of women being held captive in some kind of nest and..."

She slammed the key that switched back to the live video feeds. If she just studied their behavior enough, maybe she could get another clue. She was a scientist. That was how she had always solved her problems: careful, diligent observation. Maybe she could get more samples, trap another face hugger. Maybe their latest genetic adaptations would reveal a vulnerability. She pressed the button.

"Water Treatment Plant 4B - Rear Annex Exterior"

The walls were caked with darkly glistening resin, arched and pocked with vents as if sculpted by minds of incomprehensible malevolence. Several women were stuck to the walls, pregnant, heavy bellies sagging, and an alien was raping one of them. She shuddered in her bonds and came loudly as the alien cock slammed into her restrained body.

Sarah sat spellbound, watching the woman's legs kicking in the air, her belly wet with slime and quivering like jelly. The woman screamed wildly, with total abandon, shaking uncontrollably against the sticky resin as her body was jolted by the thumping rhythm. A hot flash raced down Sarah's spine and became a tingling itch between her legs. She tried to ignore it and slapped another button.


"Sub-basement 30 Foundational Power Grid - Service Access"

An open area near the power plant. The heart of the hive. Eggs were strewn across the uneven surface everywhere. A Xeno entered, dragging a screaming woman by her ankle. Fresh prey. Not many of them left, Sarah thought. The woman looked around 20, and was filthy and malnourished. She had probably been hiding in the ducts for weeks until the aliens found her.

The beast manhandled her effortlessly, bending her over an arch that had been caked with sinuous resin. It pushed her face down towards an egg and lined up, then penetrated her eagerly. The woman screamed and cried out, her tears dripping onto the surface of the egg. It trembled and blossomed, opening onto a milky-white interior that heaved unsettlingly. The woman looked down into it uncomprehendingly, and in seconds the newly-born facehugger had shot up and latched onto her face, whiplike tail coiling instinctively around her neck.

The itch grew into an unrelenting tingle, a slow burn in the seeping warmth of Sarah's slit. She gave up trying to ignore it, and slid a finger down into her panties, running it along her blushing, sensitive lips. A wave of pleasure radiated up from the contact.


Another camera. Pregnant girls ringed the wall of a smaller chamber. One was heaving violently in her bonds, shrieking somewhere between pain and pleasure. Her belly trembled violently, and as Sarah watched, a glistening black head crowned from the woman's gaping cunt, slipping slowly out, until all at once it popped out and the rest of the body rapidly followed with a gush of slime. The creature fell softly and found its feet immediately, hissing with menacing promise. The woman cried out as her spasms subsided, trembling with a joyful smile as though she had given birth to the most precious child she could imagine. A pair of aliens perched on the walls, looking on, monitoring the birth and waiting to inseminate the mother again the moment she was ready. Another adaptation: extremely rapid post-birth recovery and ovulation. Sarah had no idea how it worked. Maybe she should study it, but that unwelcome, nagging little voice that came with the hungry simmer between her legs whispered that she would soon be a first-hand observer anyway.


A tiny pink body was being spitroasted between two thumping alien pelvises. A little girl, not even adolescent. Very young, perhaps 8, Sarah thought. Fascinating, how the Xenomorph cock excreted enzymes that made human flesh stretch so easily around its massive volume. They could even fit into the tiny snatch and throat of a little 8-year-old. Sarah watched the little girl's neck, hypnotized by the visible bulge thrusting back and forth. Maybe she should make a note: tracheal distension during oral penetration. Her eyes flicked over the pert nipples sticking from the tiny girl's flat breasts and settled on her belly: the faintest bulge had begun to grow there. Anomalous, that the girl wasn't restrained. Maybe the aliens liked her too much as a plaything.

She couldn't stand it. A helpless moan escaped her lips as she ran her finger hungrily along her pussy lips, feeling the moisture intensify. She dipped a finger inside, and her pelvis jerked as a wave of pleasure rippled from her head to her toes. She brought her other hand to her breast, squeezing it through the lab coat. What did it feel like, to have an alien's cock inside you? The squiggly little facehugger dick, wiggling around desperately inside your throat, supplying life-giving air and shooting deposits of salty semen that slithered down to your stomach? Or the big black ridged shaft of a Xeno, spreading your cunt wide open, slamming inside and bottoming out thunderously against your cervix? Those excretions from the arched ridges on the side brought an ecstatic response better than any drug that humans knew of. The perfect cock for any woman. Or any girl.

A long groan escaped her lips as she slipped in to the first knuckle. Just a dip, testing her own waters and finding them boiling. She had denied herself for so long, denied this, smothered the horny urges that simmered every time she watched these monitors.

Finally, she gave in, and used one hand to key in the code that she so desperately wished she could forget. The monitor went dark for a moment, then flicked on again with the new image. Sarah reached for her cigarette and took a drag.

"Second Cooling Shaft Outtake Plant Service Tunnel #3 - Stairwell"

On the screen, a young girl was restrained against the wall in a criss-crossing web of sticky resin, her naked body held immobile. The bonds trapped her arms and legs but left her flat breasts and genitals exposed, along with her belly, which had swelled to a vast paunch. She was 10 years old. Only 10. We just had her birthday three months ago, Sarah thought. Three months, since she was ripped from my arms. Angie. Sweet Angela. The blue ruffled dress that was her birthday present was still present in the form of a few tatters of cloth around her thighs and shoulders.

A sharp pain burned Sarah's fingers, and she cursed and flicked her cigarette into the ashtray. Angie, my little girl, what have they done to you? No more than they've done to everyone on Earth, she thought, as she bent to light another cigarette. I've failed you.

If only my research had borne fruit. If only we had found some weakness, some way to kill them. If only I had held onto your hands a little tighter. Angie. Sarah could see her own spiral of depression, but was powerless to break out of it. Every time another experiment had reached a dead end, she had come in here. She had tuned into the camera feeds. She had watched, watched the creatures, watched the women, forced herself to witness their rape and impregnation. Datapoints, she told herself. Maybe there was some clue to the creature's behavior, some way to break their procreative process, or harness it.

But there was no harnessing it, she realized now. Humans had thought themselves the pinnacle of life in the universe, apex predators unmatched by anything they had witnessed on countless thousands of worlds.

What fools, she thought. And now this is what we've become. She was punishing herself, she realized, but she hadn't been able to stop: she would go to the camera feeds, and watch, sometimes for hours. Women and girls. Bound to the walls and floor. Raped senseless and impregnated. She had given up on pretending this was science. For all these weeks she had watched, spending more and more of her time in her office, spellbound and horrified.

By happenstance, she had eventually selected the one camera in the facility out of thousands - the one that perfectly captured her failure. The one with her daughter in view. Sarah had been weighed down by apathy and guilt for so long, but the new, confusing feeling that began to emerge as she watched that video feed for the first time was even worse. She smothered it, but it kept coming back, and though she tried to resist, she found herself returning to this video feed more and more until it consumed her thoughts.

A sleek, dark shape moved down the wall next to the little girl, betrayed only by the service lights glistening off the smooth flesh of its phallic head. Four clawed limbs and a sinuous tail that seemed an extension of the creature's spine kept it perfectly balanced as it descended. Nightmares, that's what they were. The darkest imaginings given flesh. The long head contrasted sharply with the angular, bony exoskeleton. Like nothing on Earth, Sarah thought. The creature reached the floor near Angela and paused, then turned towards her. The girl's arms were held upright against the wall, and her legs were raised and spread, giving easy access to the juicy slit between them. The alien's eyeless gaze seemed to consider the exposed bits of girlflesh, smooth and pink, and the taut, swelling belly. Sarah wondered what incomprehensible urges swirled in the Xenomorph's head, what hot flush of arousal drove it closer to the 10-year-old human girl's naked body.

Angela's eyes fluttered and opened. Sarah leaned forward despite herself. The camera's resolution was excellent, enough to see the terror that leaped into a victim's eyes when they first awoke in the hive and realized where they were and what was about to be done to them. Those looks haunted Sarah's dreams.

But there was no such fear in Angela's eyes. She woke to the fearful visage of the slavering, double-jawed creature hovering an inch from her own face, and smiled. Eagerness. Excitement. Horniness. That's what Sarah saw in her daughter's eyes. Angela wiggled excitedly in her resinous cage and gave a mewling little cry, a wordless plea to the hulking predator that loomed over her naked form.

The angle was just right for Sarah to still see her daughter as the beast came closer, running its claws over the exposed flesh, feeling the prepubescent tits, sampling the sweet curves of the little girl's thighs. It bent and hissed, a mating signal, the slavering extension of its second jaws sliding out. Angela reached up and kissed the horrifying protrusion, moving her head passionately, licking the dripping slime from the exposed teeth and flesh. It glistened around her lips and dripped from her chin when she finally pulled back.

Angela's lower legs were exposed in the air, sticking out freely from the resin cage, and the alien wrapped a clawed hand around each, positioning itself. It pressed closer to the tiny, vulnerable form, and Sarah could see the bobbing silhouette of the thing's taut, dripping cock lining up with the tiny gap. With a sudden jolt of its pelvis, it thrust inside the little girl.

"Angie..." Sarah breathed heavily, thrusting her fingers in her cunt as she watched the Xenomorph penetrate her daughter. Angela squealed in surprise and excitement, wiggling and squirming in the little slack that the fleshy resin afforded her against the wall. The alien pelvis pushed in and pulled back, fucking its long alien cock into the little girl, establishing a steady beat that set her pregnant belly jiggling. The resin that encased her body was strong but flexible, and she moved slightly and began thrusting her hips in time with the pounding beat of thick alien flesh thrusting into her pussy. Her mouth opened and she spasmed as she let out a loud moan. That look - it was exalted, as though the pleasure ripping through her body from that thrusting organ was all the little girl had ever desired in her entire existence. The alien began to thrust even more rapidly into her tiny human pussy, its enjoyment apparent in the pleased hiss and the bobbing of the bladed tail.

Sarah's hands twitched. She dug deeper, matching the pace on screen. She couldn't help herself. With her other hand she pushed on the button that zoomed in the camera, bringing the rape of her daughter into even greater focus, filling the screen. The Xenomorph's body was so large, dwarfing her little girl's form, with pipe-like protrusions behind its shoulders and a powerful, bony backside that rippled powerfully as it fucked the girl. Sarah could see the alien's cock glistening in the harsh light of the service tunnel. Thick, meaty, and black as midnight, with ridged gaps in graceful arcs on either side of the shaft - Sarah could barely take her eyes off the monstrous prick slamming into her daughter's pussy. Biologically perfected for maximum enjoyment, she knew. She had learned almost everything from her experiments, except how to beat them. The aliens were infinitely adaptive. That slime glistening on those ridges would be working on contact with her daughter's flesh, vastly increasing her pleasure, stimulating her 10-year-old body to an overwhelmingly intense succession of repeated orgasms. The shaft throbbed with tumescent vigor, its ridges rippling along the delicate folds of Angela's tiny pussy as it moved, sending visible waves of pleasure across her body. Every twitch, every throb, every powerful thrust and slippery slide of that virile meat was genetically adapted to bring its prey to the height of arousal, and the scientist in Sarah carefully noted and recorded the result as her daughter suddenly shrieked in orgasm, arms flailing, muscles quivering, throat tightening around the loud, blinding wail that tapered ever so slowly off into exhausted panting.

The beast began panting itself, in time with its persistent low hissing, and bucked even harder into the little 10-year-old human girl. Angela moaned and pushed back, her pregnant belly slapping back and forth in time with their motions. Sarah watched as the writhing little girl and the skeletal alien form hunched over it picked up speed again. Slime dripped from the extended jaws onto the pregnant swell of the little girl's belly, drizzling like syrup. All at once the creature slammed home with a monstrous hiss, and Angela shrieked again.

Sarah jerked in her chair as her fingers stoked the rippling passion that quivered in her cunt, but her eyes were fixed, immovable, locked at the point where the evil creature's bony pelvis was grinding ecstatically against her naked daughter. Semen was fountaining out of that horrific cock, she knew, spurting up inside her little girl, flooding the gate of her womb where the vile seed had already taken root and was growing into a miniature version of the nightmare that was raping her. Angela squealed like an animal, locking her legs behind the alien's hips, urging him to penetrate her even deeper, to fill her with the spurting DNA that spelled her own species' downfall. Exultation washed her young face as she writhed and moaned, her slender child's body caked with muck and slime, the muscles of her exposed belly quivering and the erect nipples on her flat chest thrust proudly in the air.

A last remnant of shame washed over Sarah and she closed her eyes, groaning. Her little girl, reduced to this. But she couldn't stop the thrusting tempo of her fingers. They pounded away hungrily, driven by the brewing storm of bestial hunger, her mind fixated on what she had seen. Sarah shook her head, but her brain wouldn't dismiss the images of her sweet little girl bucking like a bitch in heat, the prepubescent body bulging with the growth of hot alien life inside, the blissful look of sexual ecstasy painted on her face as the creature from the stars took her and copulated with her, using her body and her DNA to shape its offspring. All the other cameras had shown the same. Women and girls, receptacles for the aliens, raw pleasure painting their faces as they were fucked and bred and fucked again, endlessly. The heat blossomed fiercely and Sarah worked her fingers furiously inside her slit, feeling the wetness, the angry gush of reluctant juices that seeped out whenever she watched her daughter writhe and submit under the naked sexual aggression of the alien beasts.

She risked a peek at the monitor again. Angela was slumped, gasping, exhausted, the Xeno having left her already. The spotlight near the corner of the stairwell illuminated each drip of fluid that spilled from Angela's gaping, exposed cunt. The smile of blissful satisfaction on her face as she rested was unmistakable.

And there it was. The undeniable fact, writ in her daughter's smile, in her satisfied sigh and bulging tummy. That was the raw truth of it, laid out in all the holovids and the audio recordings from the newscasts and the security equipment that the aliens hadn't bothered to disable. The human women: they weren't captives. At least, not anymore. Sure, they had screamed and struggled when they were first dragged to the hives - the ones without facehugger cocks in their throats anyway - shrieking as the terrifying monsters of their nightmares squatted over them and slathered them with the sticky resin that bound them bodily to the walls, floors, even ceilings of the hive. They had screamed as the first alien cocks were shoved in their pussies, howled as spurt after spurt of potent alien semen shot up inside them, wailed as their bellies began to swell with monstrous alien life.

And then their screams turned to moans, their howls to excited panting. The new Xenomorphs born from human wombs grew rapidly, perfect adaptations, fit soldiers to consummate the rape of an entire species. More women were added to the growing hives, more girls, and the dark, dripping corridors of slime and eggs and fleshy curves began to ring with cries of pleasure, a growing chorus of ecstatic females convulsing in the constant throes of the most intense orgams imaginable. Sarah pictured it as the waves of pleasure in her crotch culminated into a mounting rush of hot energy. Mothers, sisters, daughters, all the females of Earth, they were all taken one by one. They had all learned to submit, all learned their place in their new life. They were breeders for their new masters, their pussies offered up to the thrusting violation of alien cock, their wombs forfeit and flooded with alien seed, vessels fit for nothing more than to shudder their way to orgasm after orgasm on the pumping end of ridged alien prick, accepting their master's semen and birthing an endless tide of more Xenos.

Sarah groaned deep in her throat and slipped a third finger into her cunt. Hot flashes of pleasure sparked deep in her belly as she worked the slippery, quivering muscles inside. Screaming girls, ripped from their homes. Her own daughter. Pulled into a steaming den of nightmares, bodies bound by terrifying monsters, fucked and raped and pounded and used until their sanity fled and they began to rejoice in the overwhelming pleasure of the powerful alien meat slamming into them and flooding their wombs with raging gushes of twisted alien semen. Their bellies growing ripe, swelling so quickly, and the rapid, ecstatic birth of a slimy new Xeno baby, hissing and squalling.

Sarah threw her head back and moaned loudly, her fingers conducting the melody of pleasure to its climax. The monitors had shown her how quickly the cycle began again after birth: immediate and constant rape until the poor woman's pregnancy was visible, a cycle of euphoria, coasting through the endless procession from orgasm to orgasm, the constant waves of pleasure from the perfected form and alluring excretions of the alien cocks shoving themselves into every available hole. This is what it felt like, she thought, her hips jerking on the tattered leather of the office chair. An alien cock, a foot-long monstrosity, black and bulging with tumescent vigor ramming itself inside you as you screamed in desperation. Sarah pulled her shirt up and squeezed her tits, imagining the clawed fingers scratching at her soft flesh, the rasp of the bony exoskeleton across her naked flesh, the sizzle of running drool dripping from slavering jaws and pooling on her belly. The whip-like sound of the pointed tail thrashing in pleasure, the hiss, the jerking finale, and the hot rush of invading fluid suddenly filling your insides.

Was that what her daughter had felt, as she screamed her way from dizzying terror to the heights of her first orgasm? Little Angela, sweet and innocent, only 10. She had never had a chance to have a boyfriend. The first cock in her tiny pussy had been a throbbing alien organ, squeezing between the delicate lips and spurting a viscous slime, defiling the little girl's womb. Sarah flicked her clit at the bottom of each thrusting motion of her fingers, moaning furiously. Alien DNA, spewing into the prepubescent womb, accelerating the natural process and forcing her eggs to drop. Billions of twisted alien sperm, pushing through, helical structures capturing and twisting around her human essence, joining with it to form the tiny germ that grew into the the black, sinister form. Sarah saw it in her mind's eye as her pleasure built to a crescendo in her crotch, saw it at the genetic level. The molecular miracle, the birth of a new form, the beauty and the horror of creation.

Her pussy muscles raged against the pumping motion of her fingers, quivering in sympathy as she thought of her daughter's rape, as she contemplated her own impending fate. Waves of hot pleasure crashed together, swelling up in an overwhelming tide and finally exploding into a wild hurricane in her crotch, twisting and writhing around her sunken, twitching fingers. The fingers of her other hand pinched her nipple and she squealed wildly, a girlish sound of abandonment so unlike her normally icy professionalism. The chair rocked under her.

The thumps barely registered past the ringing in her ears, but her eyes fluttered open when the door to her office flew open.

"DR. STETTMAN!" Kittie practically shrieked as she tore into the office. She stopped, her eyes goggling behind the ridiculous lenses of her oversized glasses, as she saw her boss with her pants down and her legs spread on the chair, one hand stuffed in her cunt and another squeezing her naked breast.

Sarah jerked, and jerked again, her orgasm washing through her. Let the little bitch watch, she thought through the tempest. Her throat was tightly clenched around the wavering groan of her pleasure.

"Dr. Stettman! They've found us!"

Kittie was crying, hysterical, ignoring her boss's indecency. Terror rolled her eyes back and forth between Sarah's naked crotch and the image on the flickering monitor. With a shriek, she turned and fled.

Only then did Sarah realize she could hear a tremendous banging sound coming from the bulkhead out in the corridor. An angry, savage, demanding beat, like a caged animal in heat.

Jessie was screaming from the lab. Kittie joined her. The banging continued, growing louder, inexorable. Sarah convulsed through the final throes of her orgasm, then collapsed, exhausted.

They found us. Yes. Finally. Only a matter of time, little Kittie. The lab was well-hidden, but they found us anyway. Here they come for you, for us.

She reached shaking, glistening fingers for the dying cigarette and took one last drag, then chuckled aloud.

So that was the final truth: humanity wasn't the dominant creature in the universe, and the aliens had found the perfect bride in their species. Billions of women and girls were already shuddering their way through endless orgasms in the hives that dotted the surface of the earth, shrieking on the end of pounding alien cock, fertile bellies swelling up with the twisted forms of their invaders. Well, not invaders anymore. Earth was theirs now, their home. There was no doubt. Better to call them masters

Sarah stubbed the twisted butt out in the ashtray. A scrap of blue cloth lay next to it, inviting, accusing. Sarah picked it up and rubbed the silky texture between her damp fingers.

Out in the corridor, Jessie and Kittie's screams were drowned out by the sound of tearing metal and savage hissing. There was never any chance, she thought. We were undone the moment we brought the samples to Earth.

One of the standing lamps crashed to the floor in the lab, casting a ghastly white pall against the wall where Sarah could see it through the door. The silhouette of a teenage girl was backing away from something, arms held out defensively, weeping hysterically. A shadow shot at her face like a black lightning bolt, and Sarah saw the outline of 8 spindly legs wrapping around the girl's head and a long tail coiling around her throat. The figure of the girl tumbled over backwards and the screaming stopped.

Sarah felt no more fear, no more regret. They had burned themselves to ash like her last cigarette. Irrelevant, now. The human existence she had known was about to be transformed to one of unimaginable horror and pleasure.

In the darkness, she could barely make out the bony forms with the sinuous, monstrous heads. She waited patiently, her legs open, her vulnerable body exposed.

I'm coming for you, Angela, she thought. We'll finally be together again.