Interstellar Impregnation Pt. 06

Everyone in this story is over the age of 18.

Sophie was mortified.

Her biggest worry wasn't that she was bent over in a thoroughly unseemly position with a boy she barely knew. Nor was it the humiliation of being totally exposed -- her tall, skinny body with barely-there breasts (nipples distended so long they looked like pink needles) and practically nonexistent butt out for all to see. The fact that she was so prostrate in front of the entire senior class (most of whom she held in only the highest disdain) wasn't foremost in her mind. And even though she was feeling epically, uncomfortably, inappropriately (*ahem*) aroused, it wasn't the overriding factor in her embarrassment.

The real problem was, Sophie had to pee. Badly. And no matter how many times she ordered that urgent feeling to go away, it only got worse.

To some extent, Sophie was willing to concede that this situation could be somewhat her fault, though she knew in her heart that it very much wasn't. When the 'aliens' or whatever they really were had given them water, Sophie had indulged because what was she supposed to do? Die of thirst?

However, when their captors had shown them the very public and clearly not at all clean bathrooms, that had been a different problem. Sophie tried to use those awful toilets as little as possible. Unfortunately, she'd been between infrequent stopovers when the monsters had knocked them all out. If she had been given some kind of warning, like a civilized being, it all would have been fine.

Instead, when she awakened, she found that she was not just naked, not only on all-fours in front of this barely familiar boy, but she was also in desperate need of the bathroom. And she didn't see one showing up anytime soon.

Sophie whimpered and did her best to cross her legs. It didn't help that her 'down there' was already dripping quite precipitously with other fluids. She looked at the grey metal floor beneath her. If she let go, there would be no hiding it. She just had to hold on.

Just don't go. Just don't go. Just don't go. Sophie repeated it to herself over and over again. She had this. She was a grown woman -- already 18 for God's sake -- and more than capable of controlling her bladder. She could hear her father's voice in her head, stern.

"What are you, Sophie?" Daddy asked, as clearly as though he was standing right next to her.

"A good girl," Sophie replied.

"And what do good girls do?" Daddy asked.

"Hold it," Sophie said. Though even she could hear how tremulous her inner voice sounded with that answer.

"Hey, are you OK?"

Sophie was snapped back to reality. The boy she'd been penned in with was standing to the side, leaning over her like some slackjawed yokel. He was as naked as she was, his chest and legs nearly completely covered in thick, dark hair. He had a warm smile, the beginnings of a beard, and soulful eyes. His hair was grown out long and thick, as well. He looked like a mountain man. Or at least, someone who intended to become a mountain man in a decade or so. For now, he was only a mountain man in training. An MMIT.

Sophie couldn't miss however, that this boy had a very large protuberance sticking out from his groin. To be fair, her rational mind measured the boy's 'thing' as probably normal. It was the context of it, sticking straight out of his thatch of brown pubes -- purple and angry looking -- that made it seem imposing in the moment.

Sophie had seen penises before. She took sex ed and had even, in a fit of whimsy, watched a pornographic film on the Internet once. The whole act of intercourse seemed rather unseemly, being honest. Sophie had supposed she'd go through with it, eventually. She wanted children and she knew that was the only way. Good girls make families, as Daddy would say. She just figured, when she met her husband, she'd perform the basic requirements and move on.

Now though, faced with the prospect of actual insemination, Sophie found that her earlier convictions had been ripped away. This felt icky and weird, and she couldn't imagine doing it. But then, with all the drugs they'd given her, she couldn't imagine not doing it, either.

Sophie's thoughts could not wander too far, however. Not when a far more pressing need to pee was pressed to its forefront of her brain. For a moment, Sophie let a picture enter her mind: her bladder letting go. Of course, this boy in her pen would be disgusted. And the whole school would turn and see it. What a big baby she is, someone would say. In Sophie's imagination, even her father would be standing by her side, shaking his head and tsking his tongue at what a disappointment she'd become.

And yet, there was also some sick part of her brain that welcomed that release. How much better she'd feel if she let it out.

She wouldn't.

She couldn't. Sophie shoved the idea out of her mind.

"Seriously are you alright?" the boy asked, "I mean, as much as you can be alright, am I right?

Despite the urgency of their situation, this boy seemed strangely easygoing. Like they were sitting out on the porch on a bright spring afternoon rather than both naked in a metal pen, her spread out like an animal.

The boy had a warm, slow way of speaking. Like he was tasting every word before sending it out into the world. He sounded like the kind of guy who did a lot of skateboarding behind the school. Or vaping behind the school. Or, um, other things behind the school. Versus all the things Sophie was sure he wasn't doing in the school. Like studying. Or thinking.

Sophie didn't want to be cruel. Her assigned partner seemed like a perfectly nice fellow. He'd focused on her concerns instead of slamming himself inside her (she could tell, based on the sounds around her, that several others had already done exactly that). It spoke well of him, kind of. But it would certainly be easier if Sophie wasn't certain that this boy was completely stupid.

"I'm fine," Sophie said, huffily. "Can we get this over with?"

"Um, sure," the boy said. "I mean, I guess. Shouldn't we, like, exchange names at least first? Or are we going to call each other Mom and Dad?" He chuckled at his own little joke. As if any of this could at all be humorous.

Sophie told the boy her name and tried to extend her hand, but it got immediately snapped back to the bar in front of her. A painful reminder of her sudden place in the universe.

"I'm Gabe," the boy said. Then he paused, like thinking out his next move. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision and awkwardly touched her shoulder. "I probably shouldn't say this. I know it's inappropriate, or whatever. But we're in this situation, so I'm just gonna tell you. You're really hot."

"Um, thanks?" Sophie said.

She'd always imagined she was OK looking, in a very formal way. Her reddish-brown hair cut pixie-short and curling beneath her ears. Her librarian style glasses (which, for some reason, their captors had let her keep). Her long fingers and lithe body. It gave her a sort of elegance she supposed. But hot? That was reserved for women of a far fuller figure.

Flat-chested was the word one gross little skank had called her in gym class. Her cousin from Upstate had taken to calling her Olive Oyl. She'd had to Google that one. What she found was not flattering. Stick, coat hanger, skeleton. She'd heard it all.

Hot, though, was totally new. And Sophie couldn't imagine why this boy, Gabe, had said it.

"I've, um, seen you around," he said, "In school. I always thought you were the most fucka... I mean, hott... Um. I always thought you were pretty. I wanted to ask you out. I thought about it all the time. But, like, I'm me and you're you. So, I figured it was never going to happen. And now here we are. It's awesome. I mean, in that sense anyway."

Gabe stood over her, grinning like a monkey while his gorilla-esque penis stuck out sharp. Like it was pointing at her, mocking. Sophie realized he was probably expecting her to compliment him back.

"Oh, well, that's nice," Sophie said, "Sort of. You're also, um, cute. Kinda."

Gabe grinned so wide, Sophie would have thought she'd praised him to the moon and back.

"Thanks," he said.

"Anyway, it's been very nice to meet you. But if we could get this over with?"

It's not that she wanted to engage in intercourse with this boy. Or, the more she thought about the reality of it, with anyone. As already mentioned, the whole act seemed patently ridiculous. All those noises and fluids. So unseemly. Especially in a situation such as this.

But Sophie realized she was stuck in place. And worse, her biological needs were only increasing as time passed. She'd have to grit her teeth, go through the act, and then, hopefully, escape to a suitable toilet. She just had to hold on a little longer.

"Eager, huh?" Gabe said. That broad smile on his face was no longer so adorable. "Look, I don't want to be rude or nothing..."

It seemed that every time Gabe mentioned having good manners, he was warming up to display even more vulgarity.

"...But have you ever done this before? Like, had sex?"

Sophie felt her face get hot. Being interrogated about her past history by this hooligan felt particularly galling.

"Have you?" she asked, indignantly.

"Couple times," Gabe said, casually as talking about trying a turkey sandwich. At least he had the decency to shuffle his feet and look at the ground as he said it, rather than crow about it like most boys his age would. "I'm just guessing you might want to be prepared, that's all."

"I'm ready," Sophie said, "I've studied the relevant material. I understand how it all works, you know, down there."

"I see," Gabe said.

"Anyway, I don't see why we're wasting our time. If you're such a skilled lover, I'm certain you'll have no trouble with me."

Gabe sighed. It seemed like he was about to say something, but then he caught the look on Sophie's face and stopped himself.

Instead, Gabe lumbered back around to Sophie's backside. For a moment, she had the odd thought that she was glad she'd shaved her private area a few days before this whole ordeal. Bad enough to have to picture him seeing her most private place. At least it was well groomed. Imagine this going on and being all hairy down there. What a nightmare.

In that way, this position was a godsend. Sophie didn't have to see Gabe studying her sex. Just sit back and wait for it to happen. But as soon as he looked at her, it was like some sixth sense of hers kicked in. She could feel Gabe's eyes roaming her bottom as well as if they were his fingers. Sensed the heat of his desirous stare. It made her feel uncomfortably warm in a strangely welcome way.

Then she felt his touch for real. A finger, lightly placed at the edge of her sex. That one, single digit amplified her urinary urge. Like he was coaxing her to release. She gasped and immediately tried to squirm away. But, of course, she was stuck there.

"What are you doing?!" Sophie shrieked. She was immediately embarrassed by herself. It was a ludicrous question, but some basic part of her brain had shouted it, anyway. She was sure Gabe was going to yell at her. Or laugh. She couldn't be sure which was worse.

Instead, Gabe simply straightened. He rested his hand on her lower back. Like calming a nervous puppy.

"Look, Sophie," he said, in that warm, calm way of his, "I know we're all horned out from the drugs they gave us. But like, it's still not a good idea for me to shove it in you. Trust me."

"It's not that," Sophie said. She winced at how weak her voice sounded.

"It's OK to be nervous," Gabe said, "I get it. I'm a little freaked out too, if I'm being honest." Then, quietly, to himself. "Wish I'd got a rip in before this whole thing started."

"I'm not nervous," Sophie said.

"You sure? Because you jumped, like, a mile high and all I did was touch you."

Sophie closed her eyes. She took a deep breath.

"I'm fine," she said, "Go do whatever you need to."

"OK," Gabe said. He shook his head at her, and she couldn't tell if it was pity or disdain.

The hairy boy knelt behind her. This time, he ran his finger slowly up her thigh. This was fine. It felt kind of nice. Then, after a minute or so of teasing and tracing, Gabe's digit found Sophie's center and...

"OH!"

Again, she squirmed, helplessly. Like a fish caught on a hook.

"OK, seriously, you have to help me out here," Gabe said, "Do I, like, gross you out or something?"

"No," Sophie said, "It's not that."

Truly, Gabe wasn't the kind of boy she ever pictured dating, but he was kind of cute if she squinted a bit and ignored most of his features. She felt kind of bad, honestly, making him feel this way. But she couldn't control her reactions.

"You've got to help me out here, man," Gabe said, "I don't want to hurt you or nothing. But, I gotta be honest. The shit they pumped me up with has me going kinda crazy. I've taken some whacked out stuff before. It's all nothing next to this. So, I'm trying my best to control myself, here."

"I know," Sophie said.

She had to concede she felt it too. This overriding urge to have something stuffed inside her. Like the inside of her vaginal canal had been stung by a hundred burning bees. It was just the other biological urge that was forcing it all out of her mind. She was being pushed and pulled by her own body and it was turning her poor brain into taffy.

"I get it," Gabe said, "This is all too fast. If you grabbed my dick right now... Well, I'd probably cum. But it'd make me jump, too. We're total strangers and this is, like, the ultimate intimate act."

Sophie thought back to before, when she'd gotten a look around the room and saw that boy Oliver, had been paired with his twin sister, Livy. No, this wasn't nearly as close as what those poor souls had been placed in.

"I don't know, the position is weird, but maybe if we, like, made out for a little first?" Gabe said, "You know, started up slow?"

Sophie had to concede that Gabe was probably right. That might help things along. She didn't even mind the thought of kissing him as much as she thought she would. But anything that postponed the end of this, that made her have to wait even a little bit longer, was a disaster of an idea.

She shook her head vehemently. Sophie's self-control was already snapping. She needed this done now. Even sooner than that, if possible.

Gabe misunderstood her denial, however. "I get it, I'm not the kind of guy you'd usually go for," he said, "Probably all clean-cut and handsome and stuff. For some reason, I picture him in a tuxedo or something like that."

Sophie giggled, despite herself. It was a funny mental image, though Gabe wasn't far off on how she'd always pictured her future husband. Dashing and debonair; not wild, unkempt, and smelling slightly of incense.

"I don't know if this helps," Gabe said, "Probably not. But I meant what I said before. I truly have had a crush on you for forever. Is that maybe worth something?"

"I'm a stick figure," Sophie said, her frustration busting through.

"No way," Gabe said, "I love your little tits. Your nipples are like, fucking amazing."

He said this like it was some huge compliment. Like he was praising a symphony, and not the way Sophie's biology had played a terrible trick on her. As if 'your nipples are amazing' was the Nobel Prize of personal compliments.

"You always seemed so, like, ungettable though. You know? Like you were an angel, and I was just dirt. I get that you didn't want to be stuck with me. But I do want to make it good for you. Good as I can, anyway."

"I'm sorry," Sophie said, meaning it. It was clear that Gabe was trying so hard, and she started to feel for him. "You're not dirt. Truly. I'm the one who's lucky to be with someone who is actually thinking about me." She felt her stupid eyes start to prickle. Great, now I have another liquid to worry about leaking out of me.

"So, you'll trust me?" Gabe asked. "I know it's hard, but I need you to, like, open up. Literally and figuratively. Help me help you. Or whatever. You know?"

Again, Sophie shook her head. Like trying to rattle the thoughts out of her mind. There was no way. This terrible, awful, unavoidable need to pee was bad enough. She couldn't possibly admit to it. The shame would slam her into shards. But what else could she say to explain why Gabe poking at her made her want to explode in the absolute worst possible way?

Sophie's brain went back to that earlier scene in her mind. Her body suddenly bursting like a urine-filled pinata. Droplets of pee splattering the stall. And everyone turning her way in horror. Daddy looking on so disappointed. It was ludicrous, of course. But that didn't make it feel any less real.

And even if Sophie admitted it, what was Gabe going to do? He was too naked to be hiding a toilet somewhere. No, the only thing that telling him would gain for her was increased embarrassment and shame. She'd have to grit her teeth and get through it. Somehow.

"Sophie?"

"I have to pee."

It slipped out. So quiet that even Sophie could barely hear herself say it.

"What?" Gabe asked. He came closer. His (again, oddly large in the moment) member so close to her face, Sophie swore she could almost smell it. Radiating testosterone in a way that was, surprisingly, not all that unpleasant. "I didn't hear that."

Sophie shook her head. There was no point in hiding it any longer.

"I have to pee, Gabe," Sophie said, "When we went to bed last night I didn't go because the toilets are so public and dirty, and I thought I could hold out till the morning but then they drugged us, and I woke up here and there's no place to go and I swear I'm about to burst, and I don't know what to do."

It came out as one long monologue, more a giant single word than an actual sentence. A flow as full and voluminous as the stream of urine that Sophie was desperately striving to staunch.

"You can't, like, hold it?" Gabe asked. He scratched his head, making him look even more like a primate than usual.

"That's what I've been doing this whole time!" Sophie hadn't meant to shout it, but she did.

"OK," Gabe said, "Alright." He began to pace around their tiny pen. "Well, OK then. You have to go. Here. Now. Just let it out."

"WHAT?!" That time, Sophie absolutely intended to be as loud as possible. She knew this boy wasn't all that smart, and probably high, but she hadn't realized he was also absolutely insane.

"Look, you said it, right?" Gabe continued, like a prosecutor closing his case. "You have to piss and there's no place for it. I can't even touch you without making it worse. But they're not letting us leave here till we do this. So, like, let it out. It's not that big a deal. I've pissed in lots of places before. Like, this one time, I was out with Darrow and Ripsy and we were in the woods, right? I was, like, super high and I couldn't figure my way out of the forest so we..."

"Gabe?"

"Sorry," Gabe said. He rubbed his head ruefully. "Anyway, my point is, it's not so bad. Better than suffering like you're doing now, right?"

Sophie wasn't at all sure about that. For a moment, she let herself imagine it all over again. She forced herself to be real about it. Her Daddy wasn't there. And everyone around them was too busy doing each other to make a big deal about what happened in her stall. What was the issue, really?

But Gabe would be there. He would see. And worse, Sophie would know that it happened too. She pictured it spattering on the ground. The stench of it filling the air.

"I'll hold it in," Sophie said, "I can do it. Let's just get this over with. OK?"

"Are you sure?" Gabe asked.

"I'll hold. It. In," Sophie said through gritted teeth.