Xenobiology

my first story: nonconsent, sci-fi, weird shit. enjoy!




Celira hated the zero-G drift from her ship onto the transport shuttle. She secretly hoped that this time a comet would wipe her from space like sweeping a bug off a windshield.

Alright, so Celira didn't really want to die. But she'd signed on to this job to come in contact with death. As one of the Council's top biologists, her job was the study of Life. Wasn't it only natural that she wanted some attention from death once in a while?

'Can't be helped' Celira thought. The gravity mod clicked on and her boots swung down, bringing her into the shuttle that would take her to the planet below.

'Morass' was greener than Earth, but with far less oceans. Celira tried to keep in mind all the theories and papers written about Morass and its native species, but she could not find a single fuck to give. She'd go down, scan this orange plant thing, and be given her next boring, safe assignment.

The flight down was another long bore, and she'd soon have to suit up, so Celira took advantage of the privacy. She reached one hand under her uniform pants, the elastic waistband giving in, and slipped a finger into her panties. Her other hand crawled up beneath her shirt; she pretended it was the eager grip of a lover. With some work she teased one nipple to attention, while her fingers slowly, gently massaged her lower lips. It wouldn't do to climax right here in the Council's shuttle, but this was a much better way of passing the time. It had been so long since she'd had any attention. She squeezed her breast, biting her lip, leaning her head back. Wisps of dark brown hair fell over her face as she writhed on the leather seat.

But before it could go further, the shuttle's lights announced she was landing.

The shuttle's autopilot took it to the only safe landing zone, in the middle of a too-tall forest. It was blue! It had all looked green from above the atmosphere. Celira looked up through the window and saw the clouds cast this odd yellow tinge to make what was blue, look green. The leaves, the grass, the plants, it was all this disturbing, deep blue.

Celira injected herself with the all-in-one chemical that would adjust her to the atmosphere. She dressed in her uniform while she waited for it to kick in. Vital signs were projected in her mind, automatically fading into her periphery until she focused on them. Heart rate was increased, temperature was raised. Her mental interface told her how horny she was.

'Yeah, thanks for the reminder,' she thought.

She shuddered as the cloth retracted, the spare oxygen drained out of it, the shiny black material clinging to her body. The suit was a size too small. The Council had told her to order the right size, but what did it matter? They were stiff bureaucrats, demanding everything be proper and sorted. She got a little more attention (but less respect) with the extra small suit. Plus, right now it had the added bonus of giving some much-needed pressure to a neglected scientist's body.

Stepping onto Morass' blue-brown ground, Celira lifted her wrist, where the scanner would take her to the destination. This orange flower growing on Morass had been getting a lot of attention. It grew fast and reproduced with some never-before-seen mating ritual, using other plants. Even the alien flora was getting more action than her.

Through the winding path of blue-leaved trees, mist coiling around her ankles, Celira located the nearest Orangevine plant. It sat in a little glade, but it wasn't orange. It was bright red, and as Celira looked up to the foggy clouds, she chastised herself for being so ignorant of basic color combinations.

She crouched down in front of the Redvine plant, as it would now have to be called. Its wide petals made her smirk, with how... vaginal they looked. It was like a softer, rounder venus fly trap, without the teeth, sitting on a thick purple stump. Little red roots poked up from the ground, reaching to the nearby trees.

"So you just latch on to any of the other plants, eh?" Celira asked the flower. She held her wrist scanner over it, taking in its chemical composition and making mental notes with her implanted interface, oblivious to her vitals blipping away.

But she was still a woman of science, and so she had to be careful. Through the device on her wrist, she solidified her suit's material on her hand. More cloth slid to her finger, giving it added protection. She slowly reached forward and stroked the soft red inner petal of the plant, getting a more direct sample. It twitched, but she didn't feel anything else.

An idle thought occurred to her. The suit was so tight. If she could reinforce a part of it by a simple thought, didn't that mean the reinforced cloth came away from somewhere else?

She dismissed the idea that part of her was exposed to reinforce her hand. Or at least she tried to. She felt a pinch on her arm and cried out, more from surprise than pain. She lifted her arm, trying to see the wound but it was inches from her elbow, in a real awkward spot. Celira looked down, expecting to see drops of her blood on the ground, but there were none.

Although the plant seemed a brighter shade of red.

Lifting her wrist scanner, Celira compared its composition to a few seconds ago, and, yup, just as she thought. The plant had taken her blood. Its roots reached out to the surrounding trees, turning the blue leaves into a strange shade of purple.

"Looks like this is going to take more extensive equipment," Celira said to the plant. She turned to leave, but dizziness came over her as she moved. She stumbled, hands catching her fall in the blue-brown dirt. Her mental HUD warned her of a shift in her blood flow. 'No shit,' she thought, trying to stand.

Something held her down, a sudden pressure on her back pushing her onto all fours. The black material of the suit was clinging to the ground, being sucked in by it. Wisps of blue mist rolled over her limbs like glue. Her elbows and knees were stripped of the cloth, which sank in, pinning her in that position. She couldn't reach the device on her wrist to alter the material.

Celira kept calm. She tried to focus her mind and give the mental HUD some kind of order, but all rational thought left her as she felt a hand on her waist.

A human hand.

"What!?" Celira whipped her head around and saw him. A man, with her hair color, her eye color, and skin color, kneeling behind her. His uniform was black, with the same Council logo printed on it, and he smiled the same way she did: flat and bored.

He spoke, but the words were in a language Celira didn't understand. She tried to twist to get a better look at him, but he pushed her down again, pressing between her shoulders. Her arms bent and her head was pushed to the dirt. She hissed, not wanting the ground to suck her in anymore.

The man's fingers dug roughly into the material, which had no visible seams or zippers. But she realized quickly he knew the contours of the clothing, because she knew it. Her head pushed to the dirt, she could only see his shadow as his hands tore her suit at the waist.

The cloth hurried to re-wrap around her, but all it did was gather at her legs and arms as the cold alien air brushed against her rear and the back of her legs. "Get off!" Celira barked, writhing again. The man's hand brushed her thighs, sending an unwanted flare of pleasure through her. Her HUD was flashing with anticipation, but she shook her head. "Hey, asshole, I know you can hear me! Leave me alone!"

He replied in his soft, clicking alien language, making eye contact and winking. Then he reached down and unfastened his own suit at his crotch. Celira looked away, shaking her head, breathing hard. She pulled at her arm, trying to get to the device on her wrist. Her body wouldn't move.

She looked down and realized, the Redvine's roots had latched onto her. It kept her pinned, and those same roots were connected to the man now undressing himself.

"No!" she screamed, bucking at the body now leaning over her. The man's hands found her breasts, squeezing them hard. She felt his length poking at her thighs curiously, and tried to swing her hips to get away, but of course this just encouraged him.

'At least work at it before you go all in!' she thought. 'Ugh, Celira, shut up! You don't want this!' her mind said back.

The man answered for her when his hands gripped her waist and his body settled against hers. She held her breath, and after a whisper in that alien language, he eased himself in.

Celira groaned, then bit her lip, refusing to cry out. The man's chest vibrated in what she knew must be laughter, and he pulled out the little he had pushed in. Celira turned, about to speak, when his grip tightened and he slammed into her fully.

"No-oh!"

Her fingers dug into the soil. The red roots and vines on the ground flashed more brightly as the male body kept bucking into her. Her breasts swung from the force of each thrust, her limbs swaying and writhing as she kept fighting for balance, kept trying to shake him off.

All while the dull fire within her grew, a long-ignored ache finally being relieved, little by little, inch by inch. The man knew that she needed this, and didn't care that she didn't want it. He was as fucked up as she, and her body stopped listening to her soon. Her breath came out in short groans as he fucked the air out of her, panting, her voice going in sync with the heavy, meaty smacks of his crotch against her thighs. She could feel the ripple of her ass from the force of each thrust, and soon her groans of protest turned into moans.

His hands reached down and grabbed her breasts again, his fingers seeking the nipples. She leaned back as much as she could, but couldn't make it easier for him. He leaned down, his chest against her back, still bucking into her.

By this point Celira had stopped trying to get away, her body rooted into the ground as the man fucked her. His pumping was fast and deep, amazingly filling. Celira found herself mumbling incoherently and wondered if that was his alien language.

His hand grasped her hair and arched her back, leaning away from her, tightening her body. Celira cried out as his thrusts became more uneven, more urgent, more brutal. Her breasts swung up and down as the slapping sounds echoed through the glade, and his breath came out in short, guttural bursts. Her muscles tightened, her breath caught, her whole body became a tight, burning sheath around his invasion.

They came together, his seed flowing into her like liquid fire. Her mouth was open in a silent scream and she slumped forward, his grip slackening. He collapsed on top of her, his weight making her knees ache. The roots holding her limbs loosened and her legs splayed out, her body pinned flat by his against the dirt. She didn't care about the holes in her suit, about the ground trying to suck the cloth up, or about the Redvine at all.

She passed out, the man whispering something to her.

Celira woke up with her suit fully intact, her mental HUD flashing telling her she was awake. Her vitals were normal, and only an hour had passed since she was last aware of the time. The glade was warm, the yellow atmosphere and blue mist danced around her in a soft, satisfied way, and all was quiet.

But most of all, the Redvine plant was calm, and as she looked at it she felt like it knew who she was.