Xenobiological Morphosis Ch. 01

Xenobiological Morphosis

Chapter 01

Qwaizoo looked down at the small blue and green terrestrial planet, was it for this that they had traversed the grand cosmos? It was tiny and ugly with its unsightly viridescent hues and uninspired atmosphere but it wasn't his place to question the directives of the Prime Smack--may they remain ever gelatinous.

"We have successfully entered the orbit without detection, Grand Scrutineer Dhuussod" He reported with a respectful furling of his moist lappets to his lounging superior.

"Very well done indeed, High Phsycophant Qwaizoo. I commend you and your esteemed crew on the inimitable caliber of their service to the Prime--may they remain ever gelatinous--on this mission." The Head Researcher Extraordinarius swished from within his command pool set high upon the sloping star-ships bridge. Qwaizoo's cerebral bell rippled with pleased currents of luminous gray under the proffered praise as he awaited further instruction.

"Is it not a fascinating little planet, High Phsycophant?" The Grand Scrutineer inquired dreamily, inhaling deeply of the wafting helium vapors bubbling up around him.

Qwaizoo didn't think so. He greatly disliked the large dry expanses called "land" with their craggy mountains, sprawling forests and sprawling plains all fixed unwavering in place. The oceans were somewhat better but still paled in comparison to the roiling gaseous depths of Beta Crateris III with its enormous lakes of boiling methane and vast, endless storms.

"Of course, Grand Scrutineer." Qwaizoo dutifully agreed before feeling something more was expected from him, "It is very... blue."

That was the best he could come up with in the face of such a perverse observation from Dhuussod. The horrid greens, blues and whites of the planet below were far too vivid and garish for the sensitive vision of the Craterisal crew. He much preferred the darker reddish-brown shades of his Jovian Homeworld's tempestuous skies.

But he wasn't about to gainsay a celebrated genius of the Prime Smack, even if one did hear some distasteful rumors...

"Indeed... Indeed!" His commander burbled, excited shades of rose blinking beneath his glistening mucus membrane. "And what are your initial impressions of the dominant species?"

The Hootnams?

Qwaizoo wanted to say that they were a repulsive hive of primitive land-bound bipeds who would never know the pleasures of swimming through a glittering diamond rain-shower or drifting lazily atop hot hydrogen thermals. They were hideous with their dry, flaking epidermis and hard, bony bodies that swung at odd angles when they moved. No grace or flow to them at all.

"They are interesting and unique, Grand Scrutineer." Qwaizoo hadn't gained his elevated rank and station without the ability to read his superiors' moods.

"Ah yes, I see that we are in complete agreement." Dhuussod ruffled his rippling gills in satisfaction. "We shall begin at once. Send a crew member down to the dark side of the planet. They must select a Hootnam test subject on which to administer Compound X244-1c. Then we can begin our observations."

Send one of his own people down to that dismally dry and frigidly cold planet overpopulated with the repugnant hootnams? Qwaizoo couldn't do that, he proudly respected each and every one of them as though they were his own spawn. All but one that was...

"Flunky third class; Bhamme! Remove your pseudopod from your shtaaark-hole immediately and prepare for an away mission."

The surprised Craterisal crewmate turned from the environmental controls, removed the offending appendage from the aforementioned orifice and gestured at itself as its eye-stalks twitched in startled embarrassment.

"Who... me, Sir?"

Terry held two neckties up to his throat and inspected himself in the bedroom mirror. Soft hands ran over his shoulders from behind and warm lips pecked him fondly on the cheek. The smell of apricots and sandalwood...

"Hmmm~ You've still got it, Baby. Wear the cornflower blue one, it brings out your eyes." His fiance Amy crooned before turning away and buttoning up her own crisp white blouse.

Behind them the bedsheets were a jumbled mess, strewn about like the wreckage after an all-star WWF throw-down match. Which this morning's unexpectedly energetic frolic had strongly resembled.

"Yeah... that was really something wasn't it?" He mused, popping his collar and looping the tie around his neck. "Jesus, I woke up this morning feeling as randy as a teenager."

"Well, you won't find me complaining. Just give a girl a little warning next time. Now we're going to have to hurry if we don't want to be late to work."

Late for work, Terry couldn't afford that. His vicious bitch of a boss already had him on "performance evaluation plan" and was looking for any opportunity to ship his lazy ass (her words, not his) right out the door with plans to slam it firmly shut forever behind him.

"I still think she might have a crush on you." Amy giggled when he told her as much.

"This isn't elementary school, Doll. She is ten years my senior and the only crush she's got is the desire to crush my hopes of earning enough dough for our dream honeymoon."

They had both agreed that the wedding didn't have to be a grand affair, an intimate courthouse marriage would be just fine. With a few family members and close friends to witness them tying the knot but the honeymoon...

It would be the vacation to end all vacations. An around the World trip that would hit as many bucket-list locations and attractions as possible. Watching the Aurora Borealis above the shining glaciers of Norwegian fjords, running with the bulls in Pamplona, soaking up the sun on a white sandy beach in the Bahamas, walking the Great Wall of China and more. Not to mention making sweet, passionate love in as many different countries as possible, it was going to be epic!

...if they could ever scrape up enough spare change to afford it.

"Do we have time to brew coffee before we go?" Terry asked hopefully, then groaned as he checked the time on his phone.

"Let's splurge a little at the McCafe drive-thru on the way." Amy quipped as she tied up her long chestnut curls and stepped smoothly into her sensible black pumps. He admired her long legs as she did. "You earned it today, Tiger."

He was certainly a lucky man, Terry ruminated as he grabbed his wallet and keys to follow his fiance out the front door of their small duplex apartment. Amy was beautiful, smart as a whip, easy going and a good match in personality for him. Where he was prone to flights of fancy, she kept him grounded in reality and where she could bogged down in grinding gears of day to day life, Terry brought out her spontaneous side. They were great together.

"Hi Teeerrry~!"

Shit... That was Fiona from next door doing her morning stretches out on their shared front lawn again. She was young and Terry didn't how she could afford to live alone in the neighboring apartment but with the face of a magazine centerfold, that thick mane of fiery red hair, a yoga-sculpted figure and sleek legs that went on for miles... he could only imagine how readily life's doors were opened for her. Rich parents perhaps? He had never asked.

"Good morning, Fiona." Amy waved, apparently unconcerned with cheeky looks the young hottie was shooting her future husband and climbing into their small hatchback.

"Oh... Hi Amy. Are you two having a good morning? I could swear I heard some moaning through the bedroom wall about an hour ago."

"Goodbye Fiona." Terry drawled, before clambering into the driver's seat and getting the car in gear.

He reversed out of the driveway, feeling the warm blush of embarrassment light up his face only to look back up the drive to see Fiona watching them leave in dancers' pose. Standing on one shapely leg with a slender arm outstretched towards them and her toned body bowed in an impressive arch until her lifted foot curved all the way to touch the back of her preening head.

Fuck but she was a flexible little brat, she looked good in her tight little denim cutoffs and flimsy white singlet that clung to her perky chest. Terry could feel an interested ball of warmth begin to gather below his belt line.

"If you keep staring and blushing like that, she's never going to stop teasing you, Baby." Amy remarked with a knowing smirk.

"For shame woman! Will you not fight to defend your man from such lecherous advances?" Terry protested in mock outrage as he steered them down the quiet suburban street.

"Not when you make it so fun to watch. Maybe I'll ask to join her tomorrow for some yoga pointers."

Terry hurried through the automatic doors of Ezyway Electronics trying to juggle a cardboard coffee cup in one hand and brush muffin crumbs off his tie with the other.

"Phew, you're cutting it close this morning, Terry. Better watch out, her Majesty is on the warpath today."

The friendly warning came from Bernice, a cute young blonde who was officially one of the store clerks and unofficially their hard-ass manager; Miss Gwendoline's general dogsbody.

He spotted their boss standing at the door to her glass-fronted office with her arms crossed over her ample breasts. The lean, well-dressed dragon-lady alternated between glaring up at a large analogue clock on the wall and scowling at the few stragglers bustling into the shop.

"Already? Thanks for the heads-up, Bernie." He sighed, clipping his [Hi, my name is... I'm here to help.] ID tag to his shirt pocket and stashing his lukewarm coffee under the front sales desk.

"You look different today." the athletic little college dropout eyed him speculatively, "Did you do something new with your hair?"

Terry was taken a little aback. No, his hair was just combed and parted neatly to one side as always...

"Maybe I have a bit more of a morning glow to me than usual?" He hazarded with a small, sheepish grin.

"Well listen to you... Get a little extra action this morning did ya, Stud?" Bernie teased with a good-natured laugh, "I've always said Amy was too good for you. Tell her I said hi."

"She is and I will..." Terry chortled remembering his morning but then a sharp female voice rang out through the store, instantly cutting his chipper mood down to ball-shrinking size.

"Look alive, Folks! The store opens in five minutes. Bernice, get me my coffee. Terrence, I want you out back doing inventory again today. The rest of you, start slinging that silicon. I want to see big sales numbers at closing time!"

A universal groan was squeezed from the milling retail jockeys.

"What do you say?!"

"Yes Miss Gwendoline..." They all chorused glumly.

Terry sat in the dusty storeroom staring into the blinking display monitor and scratching at his groin.

It wasn't a great look or position for him but he couldn't help it. His whole downstairs department was twitching something fierce and he should have been out on the floor earning sales commissions, not stuck out back doing thankless busy-work.... again.

He didn't know exactly when Miss Gwendoline had started gunning for him. She acted cold towards all the shop staff and he honestly hadn't minded her at first, mistaking her icy attitude as cool professionalism. She was attractive too, in that strict older librarian fashion which he had initially admired, not so much now. Was it after the work Christmas party that she had started singling him out in particular? He had got fairly well sauced that night but Terry couldn't remember if he had said something or made a rye comment within earshot of his prickly boss.

"Urgh, what the hell is going on down there?" He groaned as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

It felt like his pants were too tight or his boxers were cutting off the circulation to his balls! He tried to adjust himself by tugging at the crotch of his dark slacks and refocused on his work.

Inventory... Terry's desk sat between two rows of steel and wire mesh shelves that stretched way up to the ceiling of the massive storeroom. Each shelf was stacked full with boxes of various sizes containing everything from cell phones to laptops with stereo systems and kitchen appliances teetering high overhead. It was all dimly lit by dying halogen bulbs dangling down from the distant rafters like hanged men.

Terry could relate...

Ezyway Electronics was a large outlet store so the two rows of over-stuffed shelving flanking him were only the beginning of the work he had to accomplish and if that wasn't bad enough the old stockroom PC was on the fritz.

How did that even happen, they worked in an electronics store for Christ's sake!

"C'mon... Don't you die on me now." He pleaded, slapping the side of the ancient CRT monitor.

The last thing he needed was to be blamed for breaking store property. Because that was exactly how Miss Gwendoline would-

"Faaaark~! What the..."

He doubled over, clawing at his groin as a powerful wave of agony washed up from his loins. Something seriously wrong was going on down there!

"Oh god, please no..." He grunted, blowing hot breath and spittle across the clunky keyboard as he fumbled with nerveless fingers at his belt buckle and zipper.

Not the wedding tackle, anything but that! He wasn't even married yet. Oh the cruel injustice if something had happened to his family jewels after the exuberant coupling of this morning.

With a desperate yank and the tearing of fabric he finally got his slacks and boxers down to his knees.

*SLAP!*

"Aaaargh! What the hell?" Terry recoiled from the sight below him but unfortunately, it recoiled right along with him.

Because it was him... or rather, his dick.

He couldn't reconcile what he was seeing bouncing about in the air a full, hard nine inches out in front of his waist. A huge, jutting veiny member weaving through the musty air, stiff and throbbing like it had its own heartbeat. Grabbing the edge of the desk he managed to steady himself as he reached out with his other hand to tentatively grab the foreign flesh.

"Ooowwiiie~ fuck! Okay..." He gasped and shuddered at his own touch.

He could feel it alright, feel it and then some. So it was all properly hooked up and connected even if it didn't look anything like his previously proud six inches. His fingers couldn't quite encircle the girth and a single experimental pump sent him weak at the knees.

Fuck but that was sensitive! Small wonder the crushing pressure in his pants had been so tortuous.

So what the hell was happening to him? Where was all this coming from and should he be heading to a hospital? That was probably the right idea but what was he going to list on his admittance form... unexpected genital swelling? How about penile malfunction? Ha ha. Cue the men in white coats to come haul the pervert away.

"Hey Terry, you left your coffee- Ohmygod!"

Terry's back stiffened in alarm and he spun just in time to see Bernice drop his cardboard coffee cup and cover her mouth in shock. The cold morning joe splashed across the polished rubberized cement floor as Terry fought to fish his pants up from around his knees with one hand and protect some modicum of his modesty with the other.

"Shit, Bernie, wait. I can explain." He blurted even as her eyes were drawn magnetically down to where one hand utterly failed to cover his erect bobbing immensity. "This isn't what it looks like."

That was the lamest, most cliche thing he might have said in his life and he cringed internally even as he said it. Then to his amazement the cute young blonde visibly relaxed, her hands lowering as a wide grin split her face.

"Of course it isn't, Terry." She said with a careless shrug, "But you should have told me if you needed to work off some steam. I would have gladly offered to help."

She started towards him, her shoes splashing gently through the puddle of cold coffee with her eyes locked on his exposed meaty member like a hunting falcon honed onto prey.

"Whoa now, Bernie. Wait... what are you saying?"

Grand Scrutineer Dhuussod and High Phsycophant Qwaizoo looked up from the liquid crystal transmission bubble to stare at each other. Their lappids quivered with irritation and Qwaizoo's cerebral bell flashed the sickly green of confusion.

"Grand Scrutineer, was that the anticipated..." He began in a gentle probing tone before he was sharply cut off.

"No, High Phsycophant. It was decidedly not."

Both pairs of eye stalks twitched and turned to the floating crewman monitoring the environmental controls with a pseudo-pod lodged firmly in his leaking shtaaark-hole.

"Flunky third class; Bhamme. Would you kindly join us at the transmission bubble?" Dhuussod asked with sickening politeness.

Terry hobbled back a few steps as Bernice sauntered towards him licking her chops and eyeing his exposed manhood like a fat kid at a buffet.

"Hold on now, Bernie." He hedged, desperately yanking at his pants but struggling to get his boxers up over his rudely jutting erection. "I don't think you should..."

"Come on Terry, I've caught you checking me out. I know you've thought about it." She teased, prowling closer with a playful gleam in her big amber eyes.

Had he? Well, sure... She was a fit little blonde with firm high tits and a stellar ass who liked to wear skintight jeans to work. So he looked occasionally like every other guy but this was going beyond the pale!

...and why wouldn't his stupid dick fit back into his goddamn pants?!

"Very funny, Bernie." Terry scowled, backpedaling hurriedly away from her. "But I really think I might have a serious problem here."

"I'll say..." She chuckled, picking up her pace as he retreated. "That big dick of yours looks like it seriously needs to get wet!"

Terry was all but jogging backwards between the looming shelves, holding his slacks up with one hand and wrangling the hard meat-tube that was apparently his cock with the other.

At least she wasn't screaming and running away but he wasn't sure that her chasing him with his dick out around the stockroom was a much better reaction.

"Cut it out already." He complained, feinting left then duking right behind a stack of boxes but she just mirrored his movement on the opposite side, getting ready to pounce. "This isn't funny. You know that I'm engaged to Amy."

"Yeah but what I didn't know was that you were hiding that beautiful monster down there." Bernie quipped, clearly enjoying her little game of cat and mouse. "Why should Amy be the only girl that gets to ride your hog?"

Terry couldn't believe the words coming out of Bernie's mouth. Worse still was the look of feral glee on her young face that gave him the sinking sense that she might not be playing around.

What the fuck was even happening right now? The day had started out so well...

"You wouldn't know this but they used to call me the cock-sucking queen of the lacrosse team back in college." She leered at him over the pallet of microwaves still in their cardboard packaging. "C'mon Terry, just gimme a little taste. I promise you'll enjoy it."

His girthy shaft reacted to her lurid words as though it had a mind of its own. It jerked in his grip with such a powerful throb that Terry's knees almost buckled. He hunched over and throttled a groan only for his head to jerk up when Bernie squeezed out a soft moan of her own. Almost as though she felt the same crash of carnal arousal from over six feet away.