The Pasture in Space - Revolution

Again, like the machine that milked her, the experience below her waist mixed together, the twin assault of the monster cocks combined into one profound push of pleasure that eroded almost all of her resistance.

She found herself relaxing in spite of every desire to fight, the creature continuing to please her. Her pussy started to tingle with excitement, compounded by the complete submission into this strange carnal contortion. To be so used, so complete treated as though nothing more than an animal, wordlessly and unceremoniously fucked; it almost made her forget the realities of her predicament.

She could sense the creating pulsing inside of her, nearing its own climax. She thought back to the poor girl thrown to the monster on her first day as a milk maid. How that flood of ejaculate had seemed to subdue the woman, even though she could barely resist after all those rotations as a hucow. As her own body reacted, dying to receive the most licentious orgasm of her life, a spark of her mind resisted against the creeping control of this unspeakable thing.

Her clitoris was already aching in anticipation of the pleasure riding up through every nerve in her body, expecting an other worldly sense of bliss that surely would bring about her end as a sentient being. She had one last thought, one last strike, an ability still far from instinctual, yet buried down in her brain.

DIE!

Her head burned, searing pain, almost enough to pop her eyeballs.

You speak?

The tentacles stopped their grinding against her, holding her in place as everything halted. She remained suspended, her body brimming on the verge of orgasm, held awkwardly several meters in the air. Hanging there, impaled, rather then fucked, her aching sex, the fullness of her body, suddenly dawned on her; the creature no longer focused fully on controlling her emotions.

Coming briefly to full awareness, she went to speak only to find her throat still blocked by the still appendage.

Again. Speak again!

She thought, her head burning.

Stop!

You speak!

Slowly, the limbs withdrew from inside of her, pulling from each orifice with a loud pop, leaving Gwendolyn to groan with a sense of forbidden longing. Her pussy still tingled, almost throbbing with a desperate need to finish. Wet with her own juices, the tentacles curled around her waist.

She looked down with a horrified fascination as the very ground open up in front of her into a seemingly bottomless hole. In one quick motion, the arms pulled her down into the gaping maw, hurtling her towards the very center of the asteroid.

Everything went black.

12

Gwendolyn awoke almost instantly, unaware of anything. At first, she imagined herself dead, unable to feel anything. She squinted her eyes looking out to see a small speck of light in the distance. She moved from her hands and knees, aching, sore, bruised and bleeding from innumerable wounds.

Her right tit hung awkwardly out of her tattered dress. As she walked closer to the light, the damaged hem forced her legs to rub raw against each other. She looked down and realized her uniform was completely ruined. She pulled it down, ripping off a large scrap to bandage the cut across her hand. The rest of it she left behind, slowly stumbling towards the light.

Gwendolyn moved down from an embankment underneath the surface, seeing at once the majestic efflorescence creating the light. In the middle of the purple plumage, rested a small, pearl-like orb, a little larger than her fist, illuminating the entirety of the cave as she crept closer.

Flower like petals enclosed the oblong sphere, various purple vines extending out, carpeting the ground. Hundreds, maybe thousands of the vines, similar to the kind forcefully inserted inside of her made up every centimeter of the floor and ceiling. The surface of the cave slithered, carpeted by the tentacles, all combined around the epicenter of the creature. The vibrantly gleaming egg shaped center controlling everything else.

It was intoxicatingly beautiful.

Gwendolyn came within a meter of the glittering orb. She didn't dare approach any closer. More than a dozen tentacles uprooted, hovering behind her, within easy striking distance. Her legs clenched shut, involuntarily trying to block out the recent assault. Yet something serene descended over her mental state, letting her sit, her bare cheeks hardly noticing that they nestled in between two submerged tendrils.

A large purple pistil rose up above the egg, as if entering the room. The oblong shaped head remained stiff and still, shimmering back and forth slightly once it rose into its unbending position.

And yet it talked.

You speak!

Her headache returned, burning as the creatures thought. The words clattered around in her head. She tried to focus, willing herself to respond.

There was only one thought.

Why?

The pistil paused, considering her.

You hurt!

Again the pain ricocheted around in her head, like the words were a piece of metal cascading around in her skull.

The pistil moved forward, bending down slowly. She started to shrink away as it neared her head, only to have it speak again.

Help.

She trusted it, even as she drew in a breath.

The bulbous end of the stem touched her forehead, leaving a sticky bit of jelly. Then it began to illuminate. The egg at the center blinked, as if powering the appendage.

No more hurt.

The words now seemed almost audible, even though they only entered her head. With a renewed focus, Gwendolyn found herself able to force out more than a word without the pain that usually accompanied the use of her powers. She was now able to speak in complete telepathic sentences. The questions, the accusations, came out all at once.

What are you? What are you going to do to me? How could you murder all those girls?

The stalk shook again.

Listen.

The stalk moved towards her again. A strong part of her thought it would be best to make an attempt to smash the brain of the monster. But she found herself inquisitive, already knowing more about the inexplicable alien than anyone else on Epsilon 7.

What the hell do you want?!

She couldn't help but scream out the thought.

Children. Survival.

And with the words, Gwendolyn felt the creature's immeasurable sadness, the emotions flooding out with each unspoken word.

Listen.

You won't hurt me?

No more hurt.

Okay, what do you want to say?

Show you.

Show me? Show me what?

Gentle.

The stalk moved its way down, again touching the gelatinous blob on her forehead. On the sides of her head, two more appendages grew from the stalk, gently massaging her temples with the same goop. The neurons in her brain activated, firing around, taking the data pushed through her skin to Gwendolyn's visual cortex as the memories passed seamlessly.

And she was there.

Three hundred years ago, standing on another world, looking through another's eyes.

Free from Epsilon 7.

13

The planet shone through these eyes like nothing Gwendolyn had ever seen. In between her toes, blades of grass grew, the soft, dew-filled plateau blanketed by the light gray sky. A drizzle dropped down onto the body, sprinkling the woman she inhabited. Trained to regard water as a precious resource, Gwendolyn looked in horror while the girl did nothing to collect what would have been miraculous blessing on Epsilon 7.

Carelessly, the woman frolicked in the rain, running up a hill, giggling as she did so.

Though she looked on through the eyes of another, Gwendolyn had no control over anything. Her hands and feet all moved on their own, following their preordained course. She tried to assert herself again, only to helplessly feel the legs stretch out in front of her. In the distance was a home, made of antiquated wood, created she knew for style not substance.

She tried once more to move her hands, only to hear the voice of the creature.

Memory. No more.

Then an image flashed. A vision of her from the creature's perspective, still kneeling, her head held in place by the tendrils conveying the scene.

I understand. Where is this?

And before the creature answered, Gwendolyn found she already knew. Simply by thinking about the question, the answer was recalled instantly through the stored memory of her subject. She stood on the planet Sayshell, at the very edge of the known galaxy. In her head, she could hear the telepathic thoughts of the entire galaxy bouncing around in her brain, filtered through a compassionate, controlled understanding of all that is, was, and might ever be.

Diving deeper, Gwendolyn knew she existed as part of a collective, the final product of countless millennia of evolution. She existed as only a piece of a singular entity, which through the experiences of others could summon immediately the powers of the whole. Should her avatar wish to feel orgasmic, she could simply share in the pleasure of an orgy taking place anywhere in the universe. Should she shattered her femur, she could borrow from the sleep shared across the galaxy.

Together, combined into one, their mental abilities were limitless.

As one, they might slow a volcano, absorb the energy from a blaster bolt, or even send an incoming asteroid into a nearby star. Yet so rarely did the collective use their powers for ostentatious purposes. Though in this universe no one ever needed to die, each accepted their fate, and the necessity to leave life at the proper time to make way for the new.

They lived in harmony with the countless worlds they inhabited, deciding as the masters of the universe to treat each rock, each tree, each atom as an equal.

With the power to stop the rain, instead the woman decided to enjoy it.

Her name was Tara.

Mother.

And yet, just like Gwendolyn, the same sense of wonder drew Tara to imagine the world beyond her. Connected to every living thing, her mind often closed itself off, to the chagrin of her elders. Looking through the perspective of a dozen different people, Gwendolyn already knew so much about her host.

Even in a society known for its pursuit of perfection, Tara could be considering stunning. Her wispy almond colored hair flowed gracefully down to her hips, usually braided elaborately into designs many thought to be vain. But Gwendolyn also knew the girl often challenged the opinions of the larger whole, which led to considerable consternation between them.

She needn't have dressed; no custom or protection demanded it. Even with the rain, the weather remained remarkably temperate. Yet she danced wearing a crimson frock, billowy and cumbersome as it soaked throughout. It became heavy around her considerable bosom, her breasts sizable and yet not quite comparable to the overstated chest of Violet Nall.

She knew her dress would become too heavy to be quite comfortable. And still she waltzed out into darkened sky, craving the change. Without consulting her peers, she shed the frock, leaving it in the meadow. The rain droplets fell down her naked body, collecting in droplets on the curves of her chest. She let out a giggle. Freed from her encumbrance started to run the last hundred meters towards her house.

Tara was cold.

She didn't need to be. She could have drawn energy from anywhere. Only she preferred at times to be cold, hungry, or horny, enjoying the denial before the satisfaction.

Gwendolyn could not understand.

Tara barged into the door, greeting the collection of humans gathered in a circle on the wooden floor. Six others, four male, two female, unclothed and unadorned, all in pristine health, of various ages. She was the youngest, barely 20, completely anachronistic to her peers.

These were her cete. Not a family, an ancient word identifying only those regularly in her immediate vicinity.

"You are wet," the eldest male said. "And you left your dress outside."

"You are cold," A woman said, her hair like strawberries. "I'm feeling a little hot, let me help."

"I wish you wouldn't," Tara said. "I'd prefer to get warm on my own."

"Such an eccentric babe the Earth Mother has given us," Rosin said. "I still can't understand why one would wish to be deprived. It is as though you wish to return to the prehistory."

"Sometimes I think I would," Tara said.

The older man, Aidan, let a smile grow on his face.

"It does seem fascinating to some," He said. "But so strange. Men fighting with each other over who gets to eat. Death coming at random. Disease, disaster, destruction, much of it self-inflicted. It is hard to imagine a universe with such suffering.."

"There are still the exiles," Tara said brightly. "Traveling the galaxy in their self-sustaining ships."

Aidan furrowed his brow.

"Those brutes are not to be idealized," Aidan said. "They exist only by our indulgent mercy. Before our collective consciousness spread through the galaxy, there were those who opted out of the union. As the eons have passed, their isolation pushed them towards the edges of the galaxy, always convinced that we would overtake them."

"But we did, didn't we?" Tara said. "The nutrient rich planets, the best places to live are all ours."

Aidan let out a loud breath of air.

"I'm afraid it's more complicated than that," He said slowly. "Consider our world, Sayshell. Imagine our neighboring planet. Now this is just an example you understand, but take Ganymede. Imagine if you will, Ganymede is settled by the exiles. They depend on random chance to survive. Will it rain enough so that their crops grow? Will an interstellar object, a meteor or some other traveler strike their planet? Will disease kill their children?

Next door, barely a hyperjump away, their neighbors live with surplus. Food is plentiful here, disasters always averted, babies always live. How long before the people of Ganymede choose the collective?"

"But I want to know why some didn't," Tara said. "There must be something to the life of an exile for them to risk everything in resistance."

"Ignorance," Aiden spoke, the rest of the group nodding. "Only ignorance. Do you not see the pattern? Let me spell it out more clearly then. We never imposed our will on the galaxy. It is not our way. Naturally, the collective grew from one small planet, the others voluntarily joining us."

He looked down at the floor sorrowfully.

"There was resistance, but we did not conquer anyone." He said. "They joined. Yes, we intervened when strong men tried to prevent those from choosing us. But nonviolently, one by one, the inhabitable worlds of the galaxy joined us in harmony."

"And the exiles fled rather than join," Tara finished.

"We do not hunt them," Aiden said sorrowfully. "Even still, they would be welcomed as brothers and sisters, when they have finished their wandering."

"How noble!" Tara exclaimed. "They are so brave, seeing everything new, finding out everything for themselves! The pioneers!"

"No..." Aiden said, disappointed. "What they discover is new only to them. They are mostly pirate ships, ruled by tyrant captains, preying on each other, slowly pushing their sect of humanity towards an inevitable extinction."

"I should see them then," Tara said. "Before they are gone."

"Must we engage in this frightful conversation before bonding!" Rosin said. "By the stars, this talk of barbarians and brutality is so unseemingly. I'm having to borrow heavily just to remain in the mood."

"I'm sorry, Rosy," Tara said, scooting towards her. "I'm afraid I can't help my own curiosity."

"You might at least try,' Rosin said as she brushed Tara's brunette hair out of her face.

"Right now, let me focus on bettering your state of being," Tara said, kissing her.

There was no privacy. Any of the billions scattered across the galaxy could have witnessed the orgy of Tara's cete. Even so, Gwendolyn felt the need to control her own passion, trying to detach herself as Tara immersed herself with these partners.

It did not matter that Tara was already naked. The ruby haired woman adored the younger's beauty. Their lips locked, their hands moving over each other with a loving tenderness that Gwendolyn knew from her own experiences with Violet. Adding another woman did not surprise or shock her. What confused the colonist from Epsilon 7 was the manner in which the men engaged in intercourse with the women.

There was no sense of force, no brutality, no rape. Just as the women moved together, the men met them in a loving embrace. Though there were seven in total, no one ever seemed left out. As though she was there, Gwendolyn could feel the head of Aiden's cock enter her as Tara bent down to lap lovingly at Rosin's sex.

The elder did not pound into her. He went slowly, effortlessly spreading her pussy, allowing her time to adjust as her body lubricated itself for more. She let out a moan of complete pleasure, her eyes closed, feeling several pairs of hands on her breasts and bottom. She reached out blindly. One hand grasped around the shaft of another penis, the other squeezing the breasts of Rosin, reaching up to tweak a nipple while she ate her pussy.

As the fire-haired girl let out an orgasm, she moved away, another man replacing her. Effortlessly, Tara moved her lips down the shaft of this enormous penis, swallowing him whole. As Gwedowlyn experienced this, she was astonished at the ease with which Tara performed every act of a service unit, not coerced or taken, willingly offering herself.

Equally unanticipated was the pleasure Tara received in return. Aiden worked his way into her body masterfully, reaching his hand around to touch her clitoris in precisely the exact way to achieve her climax. But Tara resisted, not physically, not out of a lack of desire, only in an effort to prolong it. Sensing her desire, Aiden pulled back, the group adjusting, already knowing Tara's innermost desires.

She lay on top of Aiden, allowing access to her ass by another man. He swept forward, entering her tighter hole as easily as her pussy, despite his size. The other man moved back into her mouth, each of her orifices giving and receiving simultaneous gratification. They filled her to edge, taking her to the extremes of pleasure. Each moved as one, filling her almost indulgently. The women gathered around her, holding her outstretched hands, letting her fingers move around their dripping sex, drawing excitement from every one of her extremities.

There was something about the scene that reminded Gwendolyn of the simultaneous stimulation of hucow. Only there was no pain or terror in Tara. She relished in giving satisfaction to as many partners as possible, reveling in being the center of attention. She allowed herself to climax, an overwhelming orgasm added to by the telepathic powers of her partners. Her mind drew from their stimulation, their joy combining with her own as the crescendo overwhelmed every single sense. But she kept herself still, keeping both of the shafts inside of her.

They quickend inside of her as she continued to cum, each man knowing more than anything she wanted to have caused their own finale. Aiden went first, flooding her pussy with warm semen, creating in his last few thrusts forward the apex of Tara's satisfaction. The man from behind her followed soon after, able to increase his rhythm as he reached his own end. At her mouth, the last man immediately understood the pleasure Tara would derive from getting their climax all at once, and though further away, drew on the collective to hurry his pace.

Even in the throes of her own orgasm, Tara melded into the minds of her lovers. As they pulsed inside of her, she experienced what it was like to be a man, to feel inside of her own body. With her own sex vibrating, her vaginal and anal canal clenching and spasming with joy at either end, her mouth tasting the wonderful, salty flavor of the full shaft in her mouth, she also knew the other side. The warm cum shot inside of each hole, the warm elixir filling her, creating a final, ultimate climax created from that other knowledge, combining the joy built up from three cocks and her cunt into one orgasm.