The Guest From Space (A Tentacle Fiction)

Chapter 1

Susan Mayers could only rolled her eyes inwardly in frustration as she watched her guest, Tark Ladu, the ambassador from a distant planet called Jovi Nithark flirted with yet another woman he had just got his hands on. Well, many hands, she mused.

After few weeks of ‘escorting’ him around the Eurozone and into internationally held parties, Susan was beginning to think that Tark was just like one of those spoiled brats coming from over-privileged backgrounds. Tark, as different as a species he was to her, was really no different from a spoiled billionaire human child, getting things he wanted no matter the cost. Of course, it wasn’t like she could point it out. For all she knew he might be a prince, or some duke, if not a very important figure that held quite a handful of power in the Jovi Nithrakian parliamentary office, if they even had a parliament. Regardless, pissing him off was the last thing she wanted to do and if her boss told her to serve him as his guide, she would do it without complaining.

Susan cringed inwardly as she watched Tark held the woman by her chin. His imitated human fingers rubbed the rosy cheeks of his latest catch.

“I must say, I’ve never been more mesmerized than by just looking into those gorgeous eyes.” He cooed as he stared deeply into the woman’s eyes.

Susan almost retched at the words. Could he be more blatantly coquettish? And she couldn’t believe that the woman actually fell for his charms.

Granted, he was somewhat handsome. He was tall and muscular, with a stubby coat of neatly trimmed beard, wearing an expertly tousled blond hair that further emphasized his bright blue eyes just under those short fringes.

Okay, she wasn’t being fair. He wasn’t somewhat handsome. He was fucking gorgeous, and in a very fuckable way too. When she first saw him at the Extraterrestrial Communication and Cultural Exchange Commission office, or ECCEC for short, her stomach was teaming with fluttering butterflies banging about in a cocaine-induced high.

But still, everyone on Earth knew what the Jovi Nithrakians were. When humans first made contact with them, it was an internationally sensationalized news. The G20 even held a summit to greet them with open arms and rolling red carpets. Susan could only assume that the woman, whom now had a red cheek so red it was almost indistinguishable from a fire-extinguisher, knew about him. Tark Ladu, the most media-covered, most well known, most photographed Jovi Nithrakians in the world. The woman must have known him and what he was beneath the veneer of mimicry disguise.

Hell, when Susan knew that man was actually a Jovi Nithrakian, she immediately scrubbed the explicit images of him with her out of her mind. That man had tentacles for fuck sakes! Jovi Nithrakians were similar to what zoologist called cephalopod. It means octopus for those who didn’t know what the word means. Only that unlike an octopus with eight legs, the Jovi Nithrakians had twenty eight. Their mimicry capabilities were also similar to octopus, only in a more precise way that even allowed them to imitate our speech and language. And strange rumors on the use of those extra extremities for explicit nightly indulgence quickly surfaced and dominated all gossip magazines around the world. And boy were they promiscuous. God knows how a Jovi Nithrakian have sex with a human woman. Not that Susan was interested in it anyways. Why would anyone be?

“Come to bed with me and I’ll guarantee you it will be the best night of your life.” he said sultrily to the woman.

“Okay.” the woman whimpered.

“I’ll be damn.” Susan muttered quietly while palming her face in disappointment for the human race. She could swear that the woman was about to fall to her knees any moment then. The only woman that he flirted but hadn’t slept with him was Susan. Was it really that difficult to keep their knickers on with him around?

“Susan.” he called out without even looking at her. “Hand me my key card.” he snapped his fingers at her like she was some bellboy at a hotel lobby.

Susan rolled her eyes and took out the key card from her blazer’s breast pocket and slapped it onto his hand.

“Now, shall we.” he said to the love-drunk woman.

The woman, obviously turned speechless by her infatuations for him, nodded sheepishly. Together, they both headed out of the ballroom. Susan turned to the suit clad ECCEC special force officers, the two men sitting idly at the bar section, and nodded. The two men rose from their seats and followed the couple out.

Susan let out a exhausted sigh. Her job was finally done for the day. His safety was no longer her responsibility for the night. It was the special force’s job now. She looked at her watch and was surprised that it was almost ten. Tiredly, she lumbered to the bar section and hoisted herself onto the high stools.

“Martini.” she held out a finger at the bartender.

Shortly after, the bartender came back with a small crystal cocktail glass containing red liquid and served it to her. She seeped the sweet liquid and relished the burning sensation as the alcohol passed her throat.

How had she gotten this job? She scoffed inwardly at the question. Two months ago, she was under the employment of United Nations Environment Programme(UNEP) as a marine biologist that studied aquatic life in several key places. When humans received a friendly message of extraterrestrial origin, UN ECCEC was formed and with a basic in zoology and advance marine biology, Susan was handpicked into the team to provide logistical and social development with the newly found life form.

At first, she was honored to receive such a recommendation. Her parents even held a party to celebrate her career development. She was in the center of a global effort, a new chapter in human history. She was at the center of practically handshaking with a different intelligent species. But if she knew her job would be babysitting a promiscuous, spoiled brat that had no restrains over with whom he slept with, not to mention the implication of interspecies sex, a.k.a bestiality, she would have rejected the job out right.

Finishing the glass of liquid, she told the bartender to make her another one. “Make it strong.” she said.

“See you with a Jovi.” the bartender said. Susan could see the curiosity in his eyes. It wasn’t uncommon for people to ask her about them. Even her family members flocked to her like a horde of hungry vultures, asking her about them, whenever she went back home.

“Good observation.” Susan said disembodiedly.

“How are they?” the bartender got closer and looked around cautiously. “I heard from people that they are planning an invasion.”

Invasion into female private regions were more like it. But that’s a detail Susan, out of her professional obligation, would never share with anyone.

“If they do plan to invade, there’s really nothing we can do.” she shrugged. “They are, in essence, more advanced than us.”

The bartender’s face paled. Susan knew that look. The look of hopelessness.

“Don’t worry though. They are really friendly and forthcoming with sharing their knowledge with us. It’s almost seem like they are elated that they found us.” Susan added nonchalantly. “So, I won’t worry myself about that.”

“And I still need my martini.” she reminded with a smile.

“Of course.” the bartender retreated with a wry smile and began making her the drink she ordered.

After consuming three servings of martini and several bite size sandwich, Susan went back to her hotel room. She definitely would sleep well today. Tomorrow, she would be taking a flight back to UK for a short three-day reprieve. In other words, three days without Tark Ladu bugging her about places of interest to visit. She was done playing tour guide for the month. It would be someone else’s job now.

She took a quick shower. After that, she put on a t-shirt and a new pair of knickers before nuzzling herself into the comfort between the sheets. She slept almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Chapter 2


About robsam1991

Even though my stories depicts rapes and violence on women(mostly), i never once condone the action. Not even the slightest. In fact, i despise men who rape women. I never agreed on that women who wear provocative clothing were to be blame on for the rape; though they should take precautions when necessary to avoid risk. As a man, i think it's our responsibility to control ourselves and never let our urge out on innocent people. If you feel like raping someone, then treat a girl nicely so that she would opt for a role play where you can play out a 'rape' on her satisfyingly. Please use safe word.
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