The Lover Out of Space

One day, on an autumn afternoon, your new fiancé asks you to sit down beside her on the bed. She says she doesn't want to lie to you, and that she's lied a lot throughout your time together.

She rubs your arm. You feel her cool, long fingers on your shoulder. You're worried, but whatever it is, you're thankful for her honesty. You love her smile, and her taste in movies. You love the way you get along together, and your chemistry. You love cooking for her, and love it when she plays her music for you. You love her choice in wine, her kindness towards waiters and animals, and love your memories of her beside you at the beach, staring out in awe towards the waves. Remembering the way she held a small squid in her hands with gentleness, assuming some distant connection with the animal, then placing it back into the surf before she took your hand, you feel as you did then: you want to be with her forever, if you can.

No matter what she lied about, it won't stop you from loving her. You tell her that no matter what, you'll get through this together. As a team.

"Hon," she says. "I'm sorry. I'm not human."

You look at her, expecting her to laugh. She doesn't crack a smile, though. Her eyes are painful, serious.

"You're..."

"Not of this world," she tells you. "Any world."

You have so many questions. As she answers each thing that you ask her, one by one, you realize she's not kidding.

"I've been living among humans for many years, but I'm Eldritch.... I'm late in my development, assuming human form for now, but, soon, I'll be unable to squeeze into it. This body. This... lie."

She grit her teeth, continuing. "I'll take on my true body as I fully come into this realm....I understand it's hard for you to understand. You're only human, after all. You're just 3-D, not 4. But I wanted to tell you since there'll be a lot of changes, and I'm scared. I want you there with me. Beside me."

You need to process for a minute. This is news to you, for sure. I mean, she's always been a little different, but Eldritch?

"Like Cthulhu?" you ask her.

She shakes her head. "Hardly. I'll be a lot less comprehensible."

"I see."

She shakes, unable to look at you. You feel her trepidation, and her courage. You're so thankful she told you, even if you can't yet understand it all.

You slide your fingers in between hers. You look at her engagement ring and smile. Then you kiss that hand, that wrist, that arm, and up unto her shoulder blade, her neck. "I love you, Hon. No matter what, you'll always be my girl."

Her face is red. She throws her arms around you. "G-God," she whispers, pouring out to you. "Thank you."

You hold her tight until she finds her breath again. "Thank you for everything you are, Baby."

You hold each other on the comforter, watching the rotation of the fan. You feel her warmth contrasting with the coolness of the sheets.

Eldritch.

Man, you didn't even know that was a thing.

You think about the changes. What would come? Would you be ready to support her, as she needs you to support her? How can you be there for someone when you don't really understand their struggle? Can you be?

And what of all the things you love about her? You look into her eyes, imagining them vanish. Her long fingers and aqua hair, her beautiful green eyes, her chest. Her voice, her laugh. Would they be gone?

You ask her this. She shakes her head again. "I'll still maintain my features, and my face. It's not that any part will go away. I'll still be me, of course," she tries to smile. "Just... I'll be a lot of other things as well. A lot of mass. Swelling. A lot of tentacles. Muscle. A lot of everything. New everything."

You nod.

She breathes deeply. "It has to be seen to be believed."

"It isn't a lie, though."

"A lie by its omission."

"Baby?"

"Yes?" she asks.

You cup her cheek. "I'm proud of you for telling me. That's all that matters."

"Okay..." she whispers. "Okay."

You rub your thumb over her skin. "Are your parents coming for your change or anything?" you ask. "I was wondering if I'd ever meet them."

She shakes her head. "They're Eldritch too, but we don't often have real parents. We tend to be left to fend for ourselves. It isn't difficult, of course. There's hardly any danger. But, it does get very lonely. In all of their capacity for cruelty, human cultures are a lot more nurturing."

You tell her you'd be happy if she met with your parents again, when she's transitioned, and she laughs. "I will once I get comfortable with who the new me is," she says.

"I'll do anything I can to help you feel that way," you tell her, holding her.

You reposition one another on the bed. You're the big spoon. Secretly, you wonder if this is the last time you can be. Can you even hold her, once she's changed?

You shake your head.

"Is there anything that I can do to make things easier?" you ask.

"You wanting to try and understand is good for now. And, I want you there when I start changing. My doctor's a quarter-Eldritch, and she understands the changes. Come with me to that, okay?"

"I'll come with you anywhere you need me," you smile.

A coy smirk overspreads her face. "Come with me anywhere, you say?"

"Of course." You glide yourself between her cheeks. She moans.

She moves on top of you, pinning your wrists. She grinds against you. You feel each other through your underwear.

She removes her shirt. You unclasp her bra. Her breasts spill out. Dark nipples rise, demanding worship. You roll your tongue against them, feel their weight, and shift between them. She moans again, louder. You see her veins course just below her skin, blue and alive.

"Are you wet, my Eldritch Aphrodite?" you smirk.

With that, she slips out of her thong, sticking her fingers in her cunt, forward and back. She drips with noise. She squelches.

"Of course I am," she purrs. "I'm still a woman."

She jumps on top of you and slips you in.

"About to be more woman than you ever could believe."

You go slack-jawed and fall against the bed. Her wide, smooth hips go up and down on you. Her big ass bounces, heavy, full. She grunts with lust. She pants and shakes the bed. The mattress screams each time her hips come down.

She rides you, demanding that you suck her nipples, that you smack her ass, that you stick your fingers in her mouth. She rides you until you're very, very close to being ready.

Then, she slows down for a moment.

And she stops.

She looks at you. You wonder what she's planning, and she smirks.

She comes in close. You feel her breathe. She kisses you, her lips chapped from the cold fall air.

Then, she does a kegel with you in her.

And another, and another, riding you.

You're totally blindsided, unable to speak. That wonderful, incredible, sly fucker, you think.

Her muscles seize around you tight, and then relax. Up and down, contract, expand.

You stare at her, in joy with her. In love with her. Her wit. Her power. Her ideas. Her sexy body. And so you come, almost immediately.

Satisfied, you eat her out until she comes.

Once it's over, you clean up. As good as the present is, you start to feel the future's butterflies. She's good. Real fucking good. You can't imagine how more of her could ever be a bad thing.

Eagerly, you think about the doctor.

✣ ✣ ✣

You drive from Somerville to Boston. Your arm's around her shoulder, and her eyes are closed. You don't press or pry, just sit beside her, doing what you can.

At a red light, you play one of her favorite songs: electronic, downtempo, sampling recordings from the 60s.

She smiles a little. Thank you, she mouths.

You make it to the parking lot. The sign reads OBGY'N.

"Is that a typo?"

She laughs. "It's the doctor's name."

You can't help but chuckle. "Obgy'n?" you mispronounce.

"O̷͉͔͆́̌̓̉b̷̡̛̪͙̪̱͎͕̖͔̓̂̓̉̔͘͜͜͜ͅg̵̪̹̫̘̺̰͎̝͓̗͎̭̻̈ͅy̷̢̪̩̜̙̬̟̮̫̮͉̭͐̈́̈́́̄̇͌͂̿͠'̴̛̤̱̼̖̙͕̹̬̦̘̳̤̖̲͒̏̐̓̇n̴̠͕͔̺͔͋̂͂̒͌̎̈́͘͝," she returns.

You blink. "I don't think it's possible for me to say it like that."

She smiles. "It isn't."

She signs in and sits next to you. The room is silent, minus a ticking clock, her breath, your breath. You feel the nervousness set in again. Your forehead's damp. You're worrying about her: if it'll hurt for her, if you'll be incompatible, if--

She gently kicks your shin. You look up.

"You don't have to get bent out of shape for me," she says. "We'll be okay."

You return her smile, and her kick, and you play footsie right until the doctor comes.

Finally, it's her turn, so you still your breath and stand. You hold her arm, almost as much to comfort yourself as it is to comfort her.

You come into the room. It's strange: almost marine, somehow. It smells of brine, with terribly high ceilings, a sound machine emitting lapping waves. You sit beside your fiance.

The doctor shuts the door behind you. She makes eye contact with your fiance, then begins to eye you up and down. "Well," she says. "It looks like someone really puts the Love in Lovecraft."

You laugh and your fiance laughs. "He really does," she says, kissing your cheek.

Then she takes her vitals. "She's in good health," the doctor says. "But that body's certainly about to run its course. It's a good thing you came in here when you did."

"Is she going to be okay?" you ask.

She nods, disturbing the air. You notice that she's definitely, somehow implacably, inhuman. She faces your fiance. "We can start the process here, but as a Greater Eldritch Being, you'll likely want to be outside when you begin to spill into the realm."

"What are some of the changes I should expect?" you ask.

"A lot of things, of course. Her form is up to her, to some extent, so how much she retains of this body will be her decision, but a few things always remain the same: her limbs will multiply, her psychic abilities will start to manifest. She'll grow a lot, as well, of course. "

"Eldritch beings are limitless. So once I spill into this plane, I won't ever stop growing."

"That does sound pretty hot," you blush.

Your fiance strokes your hair and smiles. "It will be," she says. "More to love."

The doctor pulls a small, incredibly dark stone from a drawer, giving it to your fiance. "When you're ready, hon, just swallow this. The dark matter will lubricate your entrance to this plane. Be safe. And fix what you destroy," she smirks.

"I will."

✣ ✣ ✣

A cliff, just outside town, faces the sea. You drive her there, one of her favorite places.

The wind is stiff. She feels almost impossibly warm. She looks towards the ocean, breathing slowly. A glow of peace is on her face.

"I want to be like that," she finally coos.

"The sea?" you ask.

She nods.

You rest your head against her, and she holds you. "Then you will be."

She nods. Her pupils are dilated.

After a time, she speaks to you again.

"Beginning is the hardest part," she promises.

"Are you ready?" you ask.

She nods. "Are you?"

"I'm ready for whatever comes our way."

She turns to you, consumes the stone, and takes your hand. "No matter what happens, I'll always love you."

"I'll always love you too," you promise her.

And so it starts.

Strange, alien noises start to rumble from her body: moist and wanting; powerful, and deeper than the trenches of the oceans--sounds that herald stars and galaxies in distant times, and ancient gods beginning to awake from ancient slumbers.

She holds you tight. Her body steams.

She grunts, expanding up and out. Her shoulders split. New eyes form on her face, blinking, some shut, some looking at you. Her arms begin bisecting at the elbow, sprouting new ones. Bigger. New growth. New everything.

Her legs enact the same process. Four legs, then eight. She's louder. Bigger. Seven feet. Now eight. More mouths along her neck. More teeth. Nine feet. More muscles in those legs. New spines. Ten feet. She grimaces, the sounds of bone and flesh colliding. Eleven feet. She is no longer simply tall, but giant.

Then the first bursts out from in her back: a tentacle. A huge, blue tentacle.

Another comes.

Another.

Soon her back is full of them. She groans with pleasure as the great sounds of her body reach their peak.

And then they cease.

She's silent.

She looks down at herself. She feels her body, flushed a bright new color. She relaxes for a moment. Her breath is hot.

You take all of her in.

And, as strange as things are right now, you find her very beautiful.

You tell her this, no longer afraid--simply enthralled. You kiss her hand. You kiss another hand. Another. She giggles cosmically at you.

"This is nothing in comparison to my full form," she says. "This is truly only the beginning."

You watch her now transform before your eyes--her voice becoming deeper, bones a crackling symphony of growth, new spines and legs and eyes and jaws now forming from her back--her vast, impossibly enormous back--and from her waist, her cheeks, her throat... she's so, so much; so much, and so much to be dear to you... to be here is to be fully in love, excited only to discover what new way she will surround you, and engulf you, and delight you.

The cliff collapses underneath her weight. She catches you. Your head swims as she carries you inland, her body with her.

Now her growth is overtaking hillsides. Her body rumbles with new sounds no other person in the world could make--an orchestra of her gigantic lungs and vocal chords in concert with her multiplicity of limbs. She grinds the earth beneath her as she staggers to stand full. Everything below her scuttles, squirms, and flees.

But you are not below her. She's your girl.

She roars, distorting space and time. A long and ancient bellow, like the sonar of a distant whale. Her body surges out in all directions, multiplying and expanding, brilliant in startling new colors, forms. There ceases to be language for it all. But still, you try.

She's likely over 800 feet tall and much wider, no longer anything that could be human, but assuming a completely Eldritch form with human features. Human features growing, no-- no: blossoming. More her. More everything. More growth. More giant sounds. Her sounds mixing with the screams of little people and collapsing buildings as she spreads on every side, some part of her within the sea, some part spreading towards Boston's city center. Space becomes irrelevant to her, a mere suggestion. As though on a whim she might make herself larger than the state.

And still, the form of her remains. That eye is hers, and every eye. Those muscles resemble those you've seen before when she would flex her thighs. She flexes now, the world groaning. She smiles. And that breast is hers. It tastes the same. Her giggle is the same when you inform her.

Always the familiar remains.

Finally, she stabilizes for a moment.

You press your face against her body. It is soft. It smells of her. You feel her blood course through her, feel her breathe.

"It's you," you smile. "Hon... it's really you."

The air warps. She makes inhuman stirrings, loud and low. And then, within your mind, she speaks.

"There's no one else that it could ever be."

She groans. With her new psychic abilities, she lifts the earth below you, raising it so fast that you get vertigo.

You gather your bearings. All around you, every side of you, is her.

Though it can't be said that there's a center, you find her face between curious tentacles, stretching and contracting, crushing hillsides, testing their new power. Enjoying the coolness of the air. That face is hers, the spitting image of the way it looked before, perhaps 300 feet in each direction. She stares at you. She grins.

"Oh my God," you laugh in awe of her. "Just--oh my fucking God." It's her. Like, everywhere, all of the cities--it's all her. You shake your head. "How do you feel?" you ask.

Her body rumbles.

"One moment, please," she says.

She then expands again in what appears to be the final time. She rises with great tremors and deep moans, like those of the erotic vastness of the sea. Everything gets bigger. Huge. She's big beyond all comprehension now.

She stabilizes. Looks at you.

"I feel quite powerful," she says. Waves of muscles ripple over her each time she flexes. The ground trembles. She's like an animate tsunami.

With her great tentacles and hands, she rubs herself, exploring her new body, shivering. The air itself becomes excited with her, charged. "And beautiful. Do you like the way my body consumes space?"

"You should," you say. "You're fucking huge."

She laughs. The ocean trembles.

"And yes, Baby. I love it. You could stand to be bigger, honestly," you laugh.

She laughs inside your mind this time. Her face is grinning. "How much do you want?" she asks. "I no longer have limits."

You're incredibly hard for her, feeling yourself pant. You want to joke, About 50% more, I think, is fine. But you can hardly catch your breath. She hears your thoughts and closes her great eyes. For you, she grows again.

Limitless. Expansive as your love is infinite.

Even just her lips are almost as big as your horizon. She senses that you want to come in close. She pushes you to her. You kiss those lips. She returns that kiss, staggering you back dozens of feet. She pushes you to her again, that same strange psychic power pressing you against them, now so small compared to her that you fit inside an infinitesimally tiny wrinkle on those lips. You kiss again. Her tongue comes out. It washes over you. Your body tingles, drenched in her.

With her mind, she separates her saliva from your body. You're dry now, and the spit is gone. She smirks, and then that tongue comes out again, enclosing you, your dick, your every nerve.

"You taste good," she says, drying you off again.

"I was thinking the same thing."

"I think that I need more of you."

She makes a great, unfathomable gurgle, all of her in chorus with new sounds. Beyond her--no, within her, as you are--a frame comes out: a kind of focused manifestation. Her limbs assemble. Their colors range from deep, metallic teal to burning fuchsia. Those legs emerge the same as they had been when you were at the cliff facing the sea: two extras, attached along the knee, support her torso. Then an hourglass begins: wide hips, a pair of luscious breasts below the first, all four nipples proud, erect. She drips with sex. Carnality. Desire. Radiance.

Her face forms with new eyes above her eyes, then many glowing tentacles begin unfurling from her back, each in indescribable new colors. She emerges, finished, with a startling beauty, symmetry, and poise. The work of an incredible designer--and likely over 10 feet taller than you. She's huge. Paltry compared to everything she is now, but enormous nonetheless.

She smiles, all of her. It's like she is the sun.

"This is my avatar," she says. "I'm too much for you in my full form." She giggles, all of her, shaking the sky. "Far too much. But I can show you something you can handle."

She, or just her avatar, looks down upon herself and rubs her breasts as she sashays towards you: leg swinging with an elegant, wide arc, and then another. Those tentacles stand confident; those many arms and eyes display desire. She stands almost directly over you, grinning.

And then she lifts you with those tentacles. They're smooth, almost like water. You're now at face-level with her. She brings you close, sucking on your fingers with her tongues, rubbing her clitoris with three of her stray hands. She holds you over her, just so. Her eyes sparkle. "I wanted to mix old and new," she smiles. "Do you like it?"

You can't help but smile back. You bask in her. "I love it." And you turn to her beyond her avatar. "And I love you. All of you."