Welcome to Nockatunga Station

She sensed Buzz’s growing excitement, her eyes searched for him, recognized him in the alcove he had been standing before. He too was mating, mating with one of the women that he had brought, positioned above her, the woman’s black clad legs kicking at the air to either side of Buzz’s thorax as his abdomen moved, the solid shaft of his ovipositor easing in and out of the women’s sex as Zima watched.

Even as she watched, a second alien, larger than Buzz, joined them in the alcove and Buzz turned, turned onto his back so that the woman was over him and Zima’s heart pounded and beat as wildly as jungle drums as the second alien moved over the woman’s back, an ovipositor extended, eased delicately into the woman’s anal entrance, sliding in and in and in as the woman shuddered and cried out with excitement and it was an excitement that Zima shared, that she felt.

The woman was willing, eager and the humming song that rose and fell within the warehouse conveyed that willingness, that eagerness, shared it with all the women being taken and with all the women watching. Zima too felt that eagerness, felt that willingness within herself as she watched that second ovipositor swell, thicken, stretch the woman’s anal opening. She shared the alien’s desire and the woman’s need to give of herself as a swollen bubble passed down that tubular member, slowly worked its way into the woman’s anal passage as she jerked and shuddered and cried out with obvious excitement.

Another of those swollen bubbles, then another and another and now the second alien rose, Buzz turned the woman over beneath him. He too possessed her anal channel and this time Zima shared that humming bond with Buzz as his excitement rose, as his ovipositor thrust, as he experienced a culminating burst of excitement that his humming frenzy shared with Zima. The woman lay still beneath Buzz now, her face dazed as the second alien cupped her head with two hands, extended its proboscis to her mouth and to Zima it seemed that she drank something that the alien fed her.

Drank and drank until at last the alien’s hands released her and now it was Buzz that caressed her, Buzz that muzzled her with his proboscis until she gave a sharp cry, spasmed and lay still. Still, Zima watched, and now she saw the woman carried away by another alien, held easily in alien arms as another woman stepped forward eagerly to take her place in the ritual. Time seemed to stand still as Buzz mated with woman after woman, the same pattern repeated again and again as Zima watched, the humming song somehow maintaining her own excitement at a plateau that never relented, never relaxed, that held her enthralled and eagerly awaiting her turn.

All around her, woman after woman danced off the dance floor, danced towards the alien awaiting them, danced to the padded dais where they were to be mated. Mated and carried away to make room for the next. None of them displayed any hesitation, only a willing desire, an eagerness that Zima shared. She watched as the women were carried away and in the back of her mind there was the kernel of a question but the humming song banished any thought, prevented that kernel from seeding, held her enthralled and dancing with the others, fewer and fewer of them though there were.

Eagerness grew as woman after woman was carried from Buzz’s alcove and then, at last, Zima’s eagerness soared as Buzz finished and now, as he moved towards the edge of the dance floor, as he glanced around, as his glinting mult0faceted eyes somehow met and held hers, Zima knew it was she he wanted, she he was selecting, she who he had saved for last and now she stepped forward eagerly, willingly, offering herself up to Buzz.

“Come,” Buzz hummed as Zima’s excitement rose, two of his hands on her hips, two caressing her breasts, two cupping her cheeks as his face hair, soft and silky, scent of honey and spice, brushed her face. “Commmmme Zzzzzzima, it is your turn now. Your turn at last.”

Zima walked with him into the alcove that awaited them, walked willingly towards the padded dais on which she knew she would lie as the other woman, the ones before her, as each of them had lain.

“Dance for me, Zzzzzima,” Buzz hummed and the excitement of his hum was overlain with a sadness that Zima felt, a sadness that she felt to her heart, a sadness that she shared, knowing that in the morning she would be on-ship and they’d be leaving station, shipping out and Buzz would be in her past.

“Dance for me juzzzt a little more, my Zzzzima,” Buzz’s poignant hum echoed through her.

Zima turned. Zima smiled. Zima danced, the red and black dress swaying with her body’s undulations, Buzz’s head following her movements and somehow, in that humming that came from him, his arousal, his excitement, his feelings for her were conveyed. His need to mate with her, his desire, his longing for her to care for his children, his sadness at losing her, his caring for her.

“You do?” she breathed, knowing he could hear her over the music and the cries and sobs and moans and the occasional scream. “You care, your really do?”

“Yezzzzzz, Zzzzima,” Buzz hummed, “I do,” and his hum was both caring and happy with those overtones of sadness and loss. “I care for you, my Zzzzzima, you are zzzzzpecial to me, very zzzzpecial and I zzzhall mizz you, mizzz you very much.”

His hands held her, caressed her, gestured towards the padded dais. “And now, now it izzz your turn, Zzzzzima.”

Heart pounding, Zima breathed in that wave of Buzz’s scent, that addictive and faintly spicy smell that left her shivering with excitement as she moved towards the dais, closing her eyes, moaning with excitement as all six of his hands massaged and caressed her simultaneously, not massaging her now but teasing her, exposing and caressing her breasts, teasing her inner thighs with feather light brushes that brought a helpless flooding wetness there as he both teased her and removed her panties.

“Buzz,” Zima gasped, writhing helplessly under his hands. All of them. She struggled to remove the dress but Buzz’s hands stopped her.

“Zzzzzima,” Buzz hummed. “You muzzzzzt keep the drezzzz on. The coloorzzzz, the patternzzzz, they are important to uzzzzz for arouzzzzzal.” His humming was accompanied by the smooth emergence of a thick black tubular protuberance from tip of his abdomen. Seeing it, seeing its size and shape and having watching Buzz with that first woman, with all the other women, having watched the other alien’s with their women, Zima knew what this was for, knew what Buzz intended for her and her body responded.

“Like Ladybugzzzzz,” Buzz hummed, both eager and sad, “you are beautiful Ladybug, Zzzzima.” His hands guided her and lifted her onto the padded dais, lay her on her back and as he moved onto the dais and over her, Zima knew exactly what she needed to do. She parted her legs for Buzz as he knelt between them. Eagerly, willingly, she drew her knees back, opening herself for him, offering up her sex to him for his use as all those other women before her had opened themselves and offered themselves to him. Her hands sank themselves in the golden hair that covered his thorax, as soft and fine as silk, her fingers clutched at him, her eyes gazed up into those crystalline multi-faceted orbs as she waited, waited with breathless need and rising excitement to be taken. Made his.

Possessed.

Buzz’s abdomen flexed, curved in a bow, something brushed her sex, something large, rounded, hard. As hard as a human male would have been but bigger. Brushed and nudged and Zima’s eyes widened as two of his hands reached between their bodies, as his fingers found her sex, long fingertips brushed her labia apart, opened her as they’d opened her so many times over the last few evenings. Only this time they opened her sex in preparation to taking her.

“I muzzzzzt, Zzzzima, I muzzzzt,” Buzz crooned, his real voice a hum of ecstatic need and desire beneath the translator’s audio. A hum that resonated inside Zima, feeding her own excitement, feeding her desire, feeding her need to surrender herself to him.

“Yes,” Zima moaned, her back arching, her wet excitement flooding Buzz’s fingers. “Yes, Buzz.”

His fingers held her open, two hands held her legs now, back and widespread, so that she was opened to him. Willingly, eagerly open as the tip of his ovipositor nudged and pushed at her entrance.

“I muzzzzt uzzzze the gel,” Buzz hummed. Zima’s head turned with his, eyed the second alien who now stood beside them with a bowl of that translucent green gel that one of Buzz’s hands sough, scooped, applied to her sex, worked into her sex with those longer fingers. More and more gel until her sex was filled with it and somehow when he repositioned his ovipositor against her opening, she was open to him, wide open and he eased inside her.

“Ohhhhhhhhh,” Zima moaned, her moan as ecstatic as every other woman who Buzz had lain here with before her. “Ohhhhhhhh.” And it was, it was ecstasy, unadulterated ecstasy as that black tubular organ eased itself into her sex. Friction, delicious friction against her entrance, against the walls of her channel where Buzz moved inside her and his ovipositor filled her to perfection, stretching and touching her where she so needed to be stretched and touched.

“Ohhhhh … aahhhh … ohhhh …. Ahhhhh.” Exquisite slides in and out within her sex, each movement taking the tip of him higher inside her body, further and further, deeper and deeper, and Zima had no idea whether this was how Buzz’s species actually had sex but whatever it was, it was working for her as her hands clutched at his silk-covered thorax, her knees clasped the silk of his flexing abdomen, her feet beating a wild frenzy in the air above their bodies as that impossible organ impaled her to her depths.

“Ohhhhhh Jeeeeesus, Buzz, Buzz, yes … yes … yessssss…..” Zima’s back arched, eyes wide, her body a kaleidoscope of sensations as Buzz rode her, humming his own excitement, his own desire, his own need and her own excitement grew and grew.

His ovipositor thrust, slid, filled her with sensations as he filled her with his size, touching her everywhere inside, the tip of him gently caressing her cervix, holding her transfixed with pleasure, on the verge of a climax that was building and building and building towards something that Zima knew instinctively was going to be devastatingly good.

Buzz filled her, his hands held her, held her transfixed as he moved inside her, his hum becoming more and more frenzied, feeding her desire, feeding her need to surrender herself completely, feeding her need to allow him to do whatever he wished to her.

“Ohhhhh,” Zima moaned as Buzz rolled, rolled onto his back with her astride him, his ovipositor long and thick and hard inside her, his hands on her back, her shoulders, two of them caressing her butt.

“Our zzzpeciezzz finds its pleazzzzure in many wayzzzz,” Buzz said, moving inside her, his hands, all his hands, moving her on him, his silky hair soft against her body, cushioning her as she lay on him. His proboscis nuzzled her neck, caressed her neck, sending shivers of pleasure through her, drawing a long moan from deep inside her as he reached out, scooped more gel from the bowl and applied it to her anal entrance, that touch teasing a mini-climax from her that left her shaking and eager for the tidal wave she knew was building within her.

“However you want me, Buzz,” Zima moaned ecstatically.

“More gel,” Buzz hummed, but it wasn’t a question for Zima, it was a direction to the alien who stood beside them with the bowl. Zima watched him as he took what was to all appearances a large syringe, filled it with the gel and handed it to Buzz.

Buzz’s hum softened, became coaxing, relaxing and Zima found herself relaxing with that hum even as Buzz’s hands worked at her butt, fingers prying open her anal entrance, easing the tip of that syringe into her and then there was a slow glow as the gel was squeezed into her anal passage, more and more and more of it and she could feel it inside her now, feel it glowing, tingling, relaxing her and soothing her as it filled her.

Another application, another and Zima felt as if her anal passage was full of the gel, but it was a relaxing warm glowing fullness that had her wanting more. Had her wanting …

Something brushed her back, another alien, a different one and it was over her, its head above hers, looking down at Buzz and for a second Zima remembered every other woman who she’d seen being taken here, by Buzz, and by those other aliens. Always, always at the end there’d been two of them, the woman between them like this and there was a moment of fear before Buzz’s crooning hum banished doubt, brought instead eagerness, willingness, desire. A desire to give of herself, a desire to surrender herself and give life, a desire to serve Buzz as he desired.

“Izzz zzzhe ready, Buzz,” the alien behind her sang, a melodious hum that filled Zima with warmth and love, the scent of warm spring earth turned by the plow, the scent of blossoms and of growth and of sowing.

“Zzzhe izzz ready, Hive Queen,” Buzz hummed and his hum was one of desire and of love and caring and sadness and loss.

“Ohhhhh.” Zima’s eyes widened as something pushed delicately at her anal entrance.

“Zzzztill,” Buzz’s voice hissed sibiliantly in Zima’s ear. “Zzztill, Zzzzzima, zzzztill. Take thizzz for me, relaxxxxxx Zzzzzzima, relaaxxxxxx.” The hands and the silky hair and the bodies massaged her everywhere, everywhere as her anal entrance surrendered with slippery ease.

“Ohhhhh,” she sobbed as something small, smaller than a finger, pushed through her anal entrance although once inside, it seemed to both grow and burrow deeper in her ass, wriggling and sliding upwards inside her. Six pairs of hands held her body, massaged her, caressed her, touched her in ways she’d never experienced, flooding her with pleasure as that second ovipositor worked its way up inside her anal channel, a slender penetration that she took limply.

“Ohhhh.” It was weird, weird and strange but that musical hum relaxed her, held her enthralled, singing to her mind and her body as she was penetrated. It felt different from Buzz inside her, more flexible, even seeming to move, to caress the walls of her anal channel as it burrowed into her, the gel that she was filled with making her slippery inside, slippery where her sphincter muscle gripped that penetrating organ and sandwiched between the two silky bodies, Zima groaned in helpless surrender.

“Buzz,” the second alien hummed, “you muzzzzt, now, Buzz. Now.”

“Hive Queen.” Buzz’s hum was sad now, his proboscis brushing Zima’s neck and for a moment, just a moment, she wondered why.

“Ow,” she gasped at a faint pinprick on her neck and then doubt was gone, curiosity was gone, thought was gone in a wash of golden relaxation. Limp, eager acceptance filled her as she lay sandwiched between them, on the verge of ecstasy, wanting what was coming, longing for what was coming, knowing without doubt that she would get what she desired so much.

“You, Zima,” Buzz hummed, “you are mine.”

“Yes,” Zima sighed, half closing her eyes, inhaling that scent of summer, breathing it in, feeling her body absorb it. “Yes.” She was his, she was Buzz’s and the two organs filling her, transfixing her, impaling her, they held her in an ecstatic suspension of pleasure that went on and on and on.

“Uuuhhhh,” Zima gasped as the shaft inside her anal channel seemed to thicken.

“Nnnughhh.” It was thickening. Swelling. Expanding. Stretching her and she shuddered as she felt herself stretched. Then, groaning, “oohaaaahhhh,” as her sphincter muscle continued to be stretched and stretched and stretched some more, the shaft inside her anal channel swelling slowly, not moving, just expanding as Buzz continued to move within her vaginal channel, sliding, flexing, caressing, exciting, bringing her closer and closer to that tidal wave of culmination she desired so much.

“Uhhhhh,” Zima groaned, juddering as something bigger pushed at her sphincter muscle where she was already stretched enormously. Something inside the ovipositor that pushed at her there, something that stretched the ovipositor where it entered her anal channel. “Uughhhhhh.”

Her fingers clutched at Buzz, her eyes widened, her head reared back but her body, her body lay limp, relaxed, helplessly stretching as something pushed and pushed and pushed and she stretched. Her sphincter muscle stretched, opened slowly, painfully.

“Nnnnnnghhhhhh.” Her voice s strained whine, her body shaking at the onslaught.

“Relazzzzzz Zzzzzimmmaaaaa,” the alien on her back, in her ass, it hummed in her ear, it’s proboscis nuzzled her neck, a slight prick and Zima felt herself relaxing, the strain faded, her muscles relaxed and an elongated oval shape slowly worked through the tight embrace of her sphincter.

“Ohhhuughhh,” Zima groaned nonetheless, her ass stretched beyond comprehension as it pushed through a little at a time. “Ohhhughhh …. Ughhh … uhhhh … ughhhh.”

“Nuughhhhhhh.” A deep groan as the thickest part of that oval shape worked through her, stretched her anal channel inside her body as her sphincter muscle squeezed and compressed, forcing it higher inside her body.

Relief. It was almost relief to have that oval shape inside her instead of working its way in through her anal entrance. Zima buried her face in Buzz’s silk, clutching at him as his ovipositor continued to fuck her slowly while that shape moved inside the second ovipositor impaling her anal passage.

“Take, Zzzzzzima, take,” Buzz crooned in her ear, a soothing hum, waves of scent washing across her face, gentle hands massaging her butt as an elongated oval ball of something eased upwards inside her anal channel in a short, muscle-propelled movements that stretched her insides as it moved deeper. Higher inside her body. Impossibly high. Enormous.

“Take for me, Zzzzzzzima. Take.”

“Nnuuggghhhhh,” Zima grunted, her hands clutched at Buzz. Sandwiched between Buzz beneath her and the alien lying on her back, silky fur caressing her skin everywhere, despite being filled vaginally and anally, Zima sighed, her head resting on Buzz’s silky hair, her body limp, accepting, relaxed.

Strangely relaxed.

“Nnnnuggggghhh.” Somehow she wanted this, she wanted to do as Buzz asked. She wanted to take this for him.

“Almozzzzzzt,” the alien on her back hummed, “almozzzzzzzt …. Juzzzzzzt a little more Zzzzzzima… . it izzzzzzz … it izzzzzz thereaaahhhhhh.” The alien’s hum was orgasmic in its pleasure.

“Ughhhhhh,” Zima groaned, feeling that large oval emerge from the end of that tube deep inside her anal channel. Deep? Unbelievably deep and high.

“Uggghhhh.” So high up, impossibly high, impossibly large, as big as an oval baseball, it expanded a little as it was released inside her and if she hadn’t been so relaxed, it would have been impossible for her to take it. But she did. She took it. There was no choice. It was there.

“Thizzzzz may hurt for a zzzzecond, Zima,” Buzz hummed, his hands holding her tight. The second alien’s hands holding her tight. Pinned between them, both of them humming wildly.

“Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh.” Shooting stabbing pain inside her where the egg stretched her anal channel around it. “Nnnnaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh.” White red flashes of pain.

“Nnnuuaaahhhhh.” Her body shivered, trembled, shook, then relaxed as the stabbing pain was replaced by a sudden contentment, a glowing satisfaction, a desire to protect the egg she contained, because now she was aware that it was an egg and that her role was to cherish and protect that egg. The egg fed that message to her though her bloodstream, through the chemical signals transmitted through her intestinal walls and into her blood, fed to her brain below the power of conscious thought.