Alien Games by Claudia Rose Page B

them—it felt as if her toes were
being sucked, each one gently and individually; another tongue was at work
behind her knees; while more pleasurable sensations were occurring in and
around her pussy. She was aware that she was being gently entered. A pressure
was kneading her most secret places, forcing her open, invading her. Again her
anus was the target of much of the stimulation, she felt as if a warm tongue
were exploring this most taboo place, driving her wild with desire. Jenna
abandoned herself to the experience and let her brain take her on a tour of all
the possibilities of stimulation. The feelings ranged from her earlobes, to her
toes, to her pussy, to her breasts, and to her nipples. It was an arousal that
was gradual but insistent, and the climax that began to build in her was as
inevitable as a tsunami. She abandoned herself to the sheer physicality of he
pleasure, hearing herself sigh, then moan, then gasp, then scream as wave after
wave of climax took possession of her.
    Finally it was over, and she lay panting in the embrace of
the chair. It was with a sad sense of ennui that Jenna considered what had
happened. While the climax had been powerful, the experience had left her
feeling hollow. Nothing had stimulated her mind, only her body. No living
creature had touched her, she hadn’t even touched herself—what had happened had
been precise, mechanical and clinical. It wasn’t something she’d care to try
again. Even when things had been arguably worse, when she’d been stuck to the
wall with bits of alien plastic violating her, she’d at least felt a degree of
intimacy having Bruce there responding to her arousal with impressive evidence
of his own sexual excitement.
    As if sensing her mood, the chair released her from its
grip, and Jenna climbed shakily to her feet. The others had finished too. Mmerr
had climbed down from the machine and was proprietarily stroking it with her
tail. She looked so pleased with herself that Jenna half expected her to sit
down and begin washing with one delicate paw. Zhorta was struggling out of her
jumpsuit, all the while giggling as if something hilarious had just occurred.
Ranisha, too, was free from the cylinder. She was standing looking relaxed, as
if nothing untoward had happened.
    “How was that, Jenna?” she inquired.
    “Good while it lasted, but overall unsatisfying. I don’t
think something as purely mechanical as that is my thing.”
    “Ah, good. I had imagined that is what you would have felt,
and am pleased to have my suspicions confirmed. We both require more than
mechanical stimulation, our mind is our most potent sensory organ and we crave
sexual contact with another. Some become addicted to machines like this,” she
gave Mmerr a small sideways glance. “But for most of us they are ultimately
unsatisfying.”
    “True,” agreed Zhorta. “But they can also be very funny.”
    “Attention subjects,” intruded the Reven voice. “The next
rotation will begin in ten minutes, move one place to your left and prepare to
use the device.”
    Jenna sighed. “I really don’t think I’m ready for another
round.”
    “You will be,” Ranisha assured her. “Go to your place and
compose your mind.”
    Jenna’s place this time was the lewd machine that Mmerr had
so enjoyed. Having seen Mmerr use it she wasn’t too taken aback, but she did
find the evidence of Mmerr’s pleasure disturbing. She looked around, wondering
whether she dare complain. But all the others were engaged in preparing
themselves. Zhorta had sunk into the chair Jenna had vacated. Ranisha was now
wearing the black jumpsuit, although it had mysteriously sprouted an extra pair
of arms. And Mmerr was waiting impatiently inside the body sheath for things to
get underway.
    Jenna looked again at the phallus, still gleaming with the
slipperiness of Mmerr’s orgasm. She had always been a fastidious person, she
took her personal hygiene very seriously, and the thought of mounting a