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I woke abruptly and with confusion. I was not where I expected to be, nor anywhere I generally wouldn't expect to be though could expect to have ended up. No, I was not in the right place, not at all! Ship?_I asked plaintively, _where am I?

You have landed, though before you could recover from deceleration the pod was captured, torn open, and your body was retrieved by indigenous fauna, Ship explained so clearly and succinctly, then added with with emphasis,You will be of course detail the encounters you have from this point on in your own words.

What?! I cried, No rescue? That was a big fat ugly negative. In the silence that followed the revelation of my state, I tried to figure out where the hell I exactly was, since I was no where familiar or even unfamiliar. There was a sense of floating, of void. I couldn't move, not through restraint or pressure, but simply--couldn't. I tried, tried again, tried everything I could think of, but not so much as a finger twitched! Even my sphincter, throat, and lung muscles failed to clench. I was alive solely through surface respiration, and though I lacked no oxygen, I couldn't be sure that would remain the case.

There was a faint, ever so faint movement; fluid pressure. I was suspended in fluid, in the dark, and paralyzed, but the fluid was moving! Had I been dropped in a river? No, that wouldn't account, for I was not tossed and bounced and there was no sense of buoyancy. There was simply a void of sensation, and I was disturbed by it, yes, quite disturbed! I was helpless, immobile, blind, nearly deaf, and surrounded by absolutely nothing. Even the void of space would have been something, pain of decompression and the burn of starlight to contrast the icy chill upon the other side! Here, there was just void, void void void!

Ship, I don't like this, I feel like I might go mad. Please, I need something, anything!_But Ship did not reply, ship was there, I could feel her watching and listening, but she provided no stimulus. Of course she didn't, she wanted information and wouldn't taint the _experiment. I wanted to spit the word, to stomp it into the dirt. Instead I floated in void as images of half forgotten nightmares lurked in the back of my thoughts.

I was half starved and internally screaming my mental throat mute by the time there was a change. The change, though slight, was enough to snap me out of it for at least a little while. The rush of fluid had changed direction, it stilled then shifted, and my body bobbed slightly. That was it for the longest time, but there was a second change to follow, one I was not prepared for. A splash alerted me to it, or more, a rapid quartet of splashes in almost simultaneous. Then hard chitin caressed my hyper-sensitized skin, the first sensation upon it in what had to have been days!

I would have screamed if I had been able, but my muscles still refused to obey. I felt myself drawn from the fluid into the open air. It was humid, and I faintly scented something sweet and almost milky in the air that passed over my muzzle. My head was draped back, and fluid drained from my lungs, muzzle, and sinuses. My hips drooped upon the other side of this quad grasp, and I could feel my limp cloaca emerge as the contents of my belly sloshed free as well. It was a sensation like an overly full bladder drained.

It was still utterly dark, but I could hear the scrape and creek of chitin plates as I was carried along under the heavy body of... something. It's feet made no sound, though I could feel the weight of each step in the sway of my body and bounce of the monster's limb. I was carried through winding tunnels until at last I could see again, though dimly. To my horror I found myself in the clutches of a chitinous insectile creature, like a centipede married to a slug with a snake's head. Four limbs held me, while another dozen on either end carried me us along.

The beast was covered in gray-black chitinous plates and oozed greasy sludge from the gaps between with each step. I could smell it, just barely, that sweet cloying stench that spoke of unhealthy rot and greasy skin. I wanted even more to escape this things clutches, but I could still move nothing. There was nothing to do, but stare helplessly as I was carried swiftly away back into darkness.

When at last we stopped, it was in a narrow chamber, half way up a high wall, with a gap in it. I could see dark forms in other filled in gaps, but could make out little, for the light was poor and they seemed to be enveloped in something dark. When the insect-centipede-slug-thing stopped, and pushed me head first through the gap, I recognized my fate in those dim lumps around me. Stars above know, I would have struggled to free myself had I been able, but my flesh was not willing.

It began the moment I was placed, a careful position chosen by the monster. My legs were bent behind me and the tail end of the creature wriggled between. Then there was a greasy spray and the sickly sweet stench increased as my ankles were soaked. It hardened quickly, enough so that he could release my lower half, and I just hung, glued. My arms were pulled behind me as well, and my body pulled through, and that abdomen nuzzled up against my breast, and splattered again. Greasy hot slickness coated my chest, sprayed from a number of glands in that back end. It sounded wetly flatulent as they unloaded and the hot reek assaulted my eyes, nose, mouth, and even permeated the thin barrier of my hide. Within seconds it began to cool, and as it did, it hardened and glued my breasts against the other edge of the gap.

Others joined the action, and it continued for almost an hour, they sprayed my chest, shoulders, and the middle of my back, and all over the edges of the gap until... until I was well and truly sealed in a wall, head on one side, hips and stomach on the other. They crawled all over me on either side, nudged their back ends into crevices and crannies to fill with their waxy discharges. My arms were embedded within the wall itself, my knees affixed to either side, spread wide, tail coiled about them. My belly protruded, back arched, and my head was raised up and back far enough that my muzzle was pointed away from the surface, and glued in place. All I could see was blackness and the occasional gray figure as they passed over me. Then, I was alone again.

I could not have told you which was worse, the aquatic imprisonment, or this placement within the structure of the wall. In the fluid I'd been submerged, at least I'd had a sense of aimlessness. This... this had purpose. Experience suggested I would end up a meal for some larva, or fermented into some sort of alien honey. In any case, it wasn't a pleasant end approaching.

The only upside I found, the longer I was free of that fluid bath, the more I could control my extremities. Not that it helped again, the waxy ejaculate had hardened to something about as strong as ceramic. But, at last I was able to take a full, deep breath, full of noxious fumes and that sickly sweet rot stench. I started to cough almost immediately. My poor gaping cloaca began to at last retract and squeeze itself shut; for whatever it was worth.

I was asleep when they came for me. He was much like the others, long, centipede like, and reeked of that sweet oily musk. In the dim light, I could see very little of him, but when he pressed his back end against my vulnerable open muzzle I decided it was a he none the less. His sloppy, greasy back end smeared over my lips and nose. The stench was unbarable and my gorge rose violently. Though my stomach heaved and body thrashed, all that rose was a sourness at the back of my throat; I'd not eaten for days.

His slippery muscular flesh resided within a cavity in his chitin. A number of wide pores and protrusions abounded, but it was only a single specific orifice that he seemed interested in mashing into my mouth. The wrinkled cavity bulged as he wriggled his backside one way and another. A sudden greasy discharge blasted against the back of my throat, foul enough to bring another wash of bile up. Between my lips he began to unroll, clumps of semi-firm wax and clotted grease spilled over my lips and clung to the roof of my maw as he erected straight down my throat. He was girthy, slippery, and under constant movement. It was like swallowing a quartet of snakes mid coitus, the strange flesh writhed and squirmed down my gullet with an internal life of it's own.

Fully erect it seemed at last, his entire body shook and bounced as it burbled, splutted, and gushed. My belly bulged uncomfortably as he blasted the contents of his... him--inside of me. I could feel four protrusions within, emerged from the singular sheath, and five powerful ejaculations from him. He sprayed only once, a long, powerful jet that gurgled and squelched within him, then bubbled into my bowels. Then he pulled free, his long writhing phallus slick and greasy as it was removed, then the four thin feathery appendages from within tickled their way out and spread the last splatters of their sour load.

I vomited immediately. There was no wait, no hesitation, not even an attempt to keep it down. My gut heaved, my throat opened, and I hosed down the monster's genitals before they were even clear my teeth. With his sour, oily release came regurgitated, horrific belches of eye watering fumes followed, and cramped agony within the knots of my gut. He on the other hand, seemed incensed by my rejection of his kind gift, and slammed his four phalluses and their sheaths straight down my gullet once more. He wasn't even beyond the threshold of my maw before he began to unload another fresh deluge of oily ejaculate. My mouth filled, then my throat, then my belly. This time, he stayed put, sheathed in me until the heaving and choking stopped.

I had no wish to go through it again, no wish to have my throat raped and mouth tainted with filthy disgust. I tried my best to keep it down... at least until he was long departed. But when my gorge attempted to rise, I found instead of a runny hot mess, a sluggish, buttery congealed sourness that clung and coated every surface. In the end, only a third exited, and that took an eon to push free of my mouth with only the use of my tongue. It would have been better just to keep it down.

Digestion at least, was quick. Only a few hours later, my bowels shifted, and the oily ejaculate had been converted to a very thick soup of something one might call urine. I had no shame at this point, and unloaded my bloated and ache filled cloaca right out the other side. I almost wished a monster had been there to receive my foul evacuation. The thought brought a hint of a smile to my chapped lips, but only briefly.

The next "morning" I awoke again to the approach of a male. He mounted my face, and I endured as best I could the caked foul backside as it erected down my throat. The quartet of tendrils that emerged danced and squirmed like live worms around my muzzle before they were forced uncomfortably down my throat. His sheath was shorter than the previous one's, though the phalli as best I could tell, were about the same. When he was satisfied, and opened the floodgates, it was the same sensation, same gurgling, bubbly brew force fed to me until my gut strained and nausea clutched.

I learned something that morning, these monsters could communicate. The was unquestionably a different beast, but he held his phalli in my gorge and plugged me until the foul sludge solidified. Only once it was as firm as congealed lard did he withdraw, and only far enough to test my response. I didn't vomit, couldn't vomit, no matter how hard my gut heaved and body thrashed; nothing rose. He remained there for a while, and I wasn't sure his intentions, he remained in my mouth, his overactive appendages danced and caressed between teeth, over and under tongue, into and out of my throat, and one even shot up my nose half way to my lungs before it backed free once more. He was--to the best of my analytical mind--playing with me.

Some hours after he left, my distended gut was still in agony and the congealed mass of undigested grease sat like a rock in the pit of my bowels. I wondered if it would ever find a way free, or if I'd end up bloated to death. I need not have worried on either score. Something touched me from the other side. I hadn't felt an approach, or heard a single sound, but something touched me. A slippery trail of oily sludge smeared across the inside of my thigh. I screamed, I'll admit that, I screamed and jerked away. There was no away to be however, and that touch moved inward, towards the lips of my messy cloaca.

The tip of the protrusion was a wrinkled thing with a single pointed nub of... cartilage I guessed. That pointed numb attached to something like a jointed finger, and under it hung a wrinkled, leaky sheath of limp flesh. It was nudged between my folds rather deftly and I felt other touches, chitinous claws and deft little caresses. The trefoil labia of my vent were parted wide, and the tight cloacal sphincter exposed. I shuddered in revulsion at this intolerable invasion of my intimate flesh. There was nothing I could do however, bound as I was, helpless before these probes.

The pointed nub parted my entry by force. My sphincter clenched, involuntarily, my stomach bunched, my vent caved inward as muscles reacted. Then that sphincter opened as it had to, opened before the pressure of that alien intrusion--and swallowed. It was the fact of my species, a fact we kept secret as best we could; any cloacal stimulation would trigger mating reflexes. I sobbed mournfully as the sloppy flesh and hard finger like intrusion were drawn inside. A second ring clamped down on the intrusion, and swallowed again, a third ring, a fourth... centimeter by centimeter, the alien's spire was drawn into my depths and I had not the least control over it!

There was no thrusting involved. I swallowed, and she let me draw her in, passively. I swallowed, and she sank deeper, until I felt her oily back end nestle down over my crotch. I swallowed, and her sensitive genitals were stimulated. I swallowed, and she was pleased. Greasy flesh, oily lubricant, and powerful muscles worked in perfect synchronicity to satisfy my alien rapist. I could hear her now, her burbling flesh and vibrating chitin. I could feel her shake and thrash, though her hips mated mine as solid as rock and budged not a hair. Within, I could feel her fluids begin to flow, sticky, mucous strands that bubbled up her appendage, swallowed through that wrinkled sheath until they burst like wet bubbles in my bowels.

I endured her penetration for hours, long enough to stimulate my own hormonal systems. Long enough to put me into a state of helpless heat. Her penetration was enough, was all I needed in all fact. I swallowed her incessantly and my body obeyed the urge of my nature. I was flushed and my thoughts were filled with desperate needs. My bowels burned and ached as muscles exhausted themselves but refused to halt. My egg sack swelled with life, self fertilized, and sex pheromones filled my saliva. I could taste lust on my tongue, desire on my breath, and fertility on my skin. My hips thrashed as best they could, my reproductive organs sang the song of mating, a deep belly hum that came from the release of sexual fluids.

I was still impaled as my gut overflowed, as a mixture of solidified ejaculate, oily female discharge, and my own hormone and pheromone filled secretions bubbled up my throat. The taste of it was... was not so bad, in fact, as I rolled the filthy mixture over my tongue and bucked my hips against the insectile lover on the other side--my shame was completed; climax. Wholly unnecessary and utterly unwanted, I came for her like a beast in the forest, and then again a few minutes later when _it_began.

Her abdomen pulsated and squirmed against my groin. I felt moisture splatter my thighs and run down butt and tail. Then I felt the base of her ovipositor throb as a small egg fell into place. No larger than a chicken's, soft and pliable, it slithered forth through the well lubricated breeding tube. I could hear a loud crooning from the other side, a noise both utterly alien and entirely familiar. My own, now weak cloaca swallowed still and helped drag the egg into myself.

A male came, called by her cry, a male came, and forced himself down my throat. It was abrupt, my mind so lost in the haze of sexual bliss and torment I hadn't noticed him approach. My first awareness was of four thin tentacles as they slithered forcibly down my throat. His sheath was fully retracted and when I opened my eyes, I could see the entirety of his sexual organs, a meter long. They were swollen, nothing like I'd seen before. They throbbed with each beat of his heart, if he had one, and filled my throat to the limit. His sheath too was swollen and bunched up, engorged, but spread wide to fill almost the entirety of his rear cavity.

That back end smothered me, his sheath enveloped my muzzle and settled around my head as those quad phalli danced in my gut. Then, when the egg at last fell free, there was an explosion of fluids that forced their way up my throat and out, into his sheath. A moment later, his swollen appendages released, deflated, and retreated like a bolt of lightning. His sheath shrank, the lips reached down, and forced into my mouth. A moment later, a thick wad of semi-solid wax was wedged down my throat and stopped, somewhere mid neck. Nothing came up, nothing went down. Within my bowels, I felt the female retreat. A second wad of waxy plug was planted in my cloaca, so thick that my failing muscles couldn't get a grip on it, and filling enough to keep them trying.

Then, I was abandoned to my utter misery. My gut protruded, so gravid that I felt I would explode. My cloaca continued to milk at the plug, glued to the walls. There was no budging the solid impediment. My throat too, helpless to dislodge the waxy plug. I thrashed and squirmed, swallowed and bucked, desperate, more than desperate. My mind reeled with the horror; what if they never came out? I passed out sometime in the middle of the night, screaming.

Four days I endured the plugging, four days by my internal clock--which wasn't particularly reliable at the moment. Ship still refused to talk to me, and I sullenly refused to give reports. My bowels were so cramped, and muscles so exhausted, they had torn themselves apart, fiber by fiber, until they could do littler more than twitch. My throat was packed solid still, but that only prevented me from eating or vomiting. Both of which I was inclined to do at the moment, but neither of which were inclined to happen. Four days I remained plugged and alone--and then the egg hatched.

I felt it move, a few hours before the event. I felt it jiggle amongst my own eggs, a large number of eggs I'd laid in my own bowels. I felt it move, and move my young. The movement grew more and more frantic until the egg ruptured with a squelch and burble. Then, there was even more frantic movement as the young began to feed. What it fed on, I could only guess at, for I felt no pain, only the nauseating squirm and thrash. I realized some time later, that I hadn't felt a single egg shift in a while... my reasoning was clear, it had eaten everything. My stomach was still bulged, but it was less even now, for the life of the young insect filled most of that bulk. Every time it moved, I could feel my stomach squirm and squish.

Another hour or two passed in stillness. It rested, or it was dead, I hoped the latter. That hope was dashed though when it awoke and began to squirm upward, up my throat from within. When it met the plug, it ate it's way through. Bigger around than my upper arm, it stretched my neck to the limit before it reached the back of my throat. Lodged, half way in my mouth, half way down my neck, it took it's first wheezed breath, then squeaked. It was almost adorable, if it wasn't birthing it's way out my throat! It squeaked again as It writhed it's way free with a gush of afterbirth-vomit. I unloaded everything, dozens of half eaten eggshells, slippery soup of fluids, chunks of wax, and half a liter of sour grease.

The child was collected a moment after, and I had a few moment's rest. Then, just as I was about to drift off--I felt a female press it's ovipositor between my well spread labia. The process began all over again. I screamed myself sick, exhaustion, panic, and rage intermixed with the torrent of forced hormonal tides. She penetrated the plug and lodged herself in my bowels; the hormones flowed, my egg sack swelled, and her body began to bubble and churn. Above me, I witnessed a male, preparing himself for his mate's call. It was a_fascinating_display as he fellated himself before me, his quad phalli began to swell. Quietly, I began to weep.