Before opening my eyes, I could tell I was submerged in some gelatinous fluid. Possibly the ether? I opened my eyes and saw the walls of a pod not far from my body, enclosing me completely in this pocket of liquid.
I shifted around, reaching for a patch of warmth in an otherwise cool fluid. My limbs were clutched in, forming a small ball to retain my body heat. I felt a small tendril floating nearby. I used my forearms to clutch the strand, tracing it back to my own stomach.
I moved my leg, extending it to push lightly against the inside of my capsule. The membranous wall gave easily, and before I knew it I’d punctured the fluid’s shell. The rupture traveled up along the walls of the pod before it burst outright. I fell a few feet before a sharp, white-hot pain stuck my midsection. I was jerked up violently, body flailing midair. Half a second later I settled, splayed face up in the air tethered to the ceiling by my stomach.
The extreme force of the fall and subsequent bounceback had my stomach tied in knots, and I felt the inescapable urge to vomit. When I did finally allow myself to evacuate my stomach, I found that my mouth, throat, and most likely the rest of my digestive tract had been filled more clear, viscous fluid. I regurgitated most of it below me, hearing it land on the ground below with a wet slop.
I took a few minutes of deep breathing, my lungs greedy for air. It was like I’d been half-drowned. The pain still lingered, but I was beginning to regain control over my senses. I was swinging back and forth lightly from my tether to the ceiling. I flexed my fingers and toes. Then my arms and legs. Each of them hung down with gravity from the apex of my stomach.
On the topic of my stomach, my next necessary inquiry was what the hell was holding me up. I was still naked, so I knew I probably wouldn’t like the answer. I raised a hand and felt around a junction between the cord and my navel. The connection was as wide as a dinner glass. The tether itself felt fleshy and plush. The creases and wrinkles running along its circumference reminded me of the rough, fleshy column which had held up the bioluminescent egg. It was still cruelly fresh in my memory.
That brought me to how I’d gotten here: the last thing I remembered, I had flopped into the ether pool, exhausted after that inflatable glowing thing had its way with me. I could no longer feel the glob of slime that had been in my ass, but I had other priorities at the moment. I wasn’t in the ether room anymore. The tether held me about fifteen feet from the shadowed ceiling above. As I kept my eyes to the ceiling, I noticed other bulbs like the one that hung broken above me. A few were also ruptured, though many more remained intact. Within, I could make out the outlines of humans, each one clustered into the fetal position like I was. They were motionless and I struggled to make out any defining features. They must be hairless, like I presumably was, but the forms were definitely male.
I twisted my neck, casting my gaze down to the space below me. The room I found myself in had membranous red walls. It was cylindrical in shape, and sported a number of thick columns of flesh running upward towards the domed ceiling. Fluid surged up them, and it looked like they connected to the pods which sprouted from above. About twenty feet below me was the shiny, deep red floor of the chamber. Around the perimeter of the room ran a moat of more clear, viscous liquid, bubbling sluggishly.
After getting my bearings, I turned my attention back to the tendril implanted in my stomach. I raised my neck, getting a sense of how the appendage tapered as it moved away from my body. I pried at the connection, but didn’t seem to affect the tendril at all. I couldn’t feel any pain as I clawed at the tough flesh, relieved that the parasitic attachment hadn’t integrated itself into his nervous system.
I pounded on the tendril’s neck, in effect only swinging myself like a pendulum from the organic cord. I winced in pain at the apex of each swing, waiting for the motion to slow before I tried anything else. I held tight to the appendage, horrified by its attachment to my belly but even more fearful that it might snap and send me careening into the chamber wall.
I sighed deeply once I’d settled again, wiping my palm against my hanging forehead to dab the sweat. When I did so, though, I felt a cool ooze spread across my brow. I pulled my hand in front of my face, finding more of the clear gel. It must have been coating the tendril, seeping out from the deep crevices in its craggy surface. I slid my hand against the wrinkled mass, squeezing the slimy fluid from between my fingers. I looked up to see that more fluid seemed to be dripping from the organic stalactite, sticky clear sludge falling onto—and running off of—my body in rivulets of slow, turbulent goo.
As I continued to massage the organic mass, milking it for its slick, I let my head fall back. A stream of liquid crawled down my sternum, dancing along the craned ridge of my throat until it turned the curve of my chin and into my mouth, ajar. The taste was sweet, and as I sucked down more of the oozing liquid. I was thirsty, unsure of when I’d last had a sip of water. This wasn’t water, of course, but it was quenching to let the fluid slowly drain into my open throat.
I felt a stirring in my loins. Something chemical was affecting me. I could sense the ooze crossing into my bloodstream, each molecule primed to engage and overpower my nervous system. My face flushed red, blood suddenly pumped with more urgency. My muscles were puppeted from the inside out and I began to contract and tense randomly with a sudden, inconsolable urge to writhe. My sharp movements perturbed the tendril, sending my form swinging in small, slow undulations. My body was responding to the foreign influence, and before I’d even understood what was being induced, an orgasm rippled through my body. I wasn’t sure how, but the the building intoxication of the fluid had started a simultaneous assault on my prostate. I flexed my abs, twisting my body as the drug forced me through an orgasm.
Before I’d even stopped spurting, I felt the tendril shift. The mass moved up the length of the appendage, away from my body. The junction point looked gaunt and withered. I feel my body start to separate from the tendril. It began with the hissing cold of air on my stomach as the edge of the connection began to peel off. The skin underneath was tender. Then, it felt like I had suddenly been unplugged. The rooted tentacle which had grafted so seamlessly with my body became restless. It was as if the tether was rejecting the union, disentangling itself from me as quickly as it could. Then I heard a snap, as if a bundle of tendons had been severed. I fell through the air as I had earlier, though this time there was no unexpected bungee cord to rip me from my trajectory. My orgasm left me defenseless in freefall as my muscles surged and trembled. I floundered my arms around, attempting and failing to find purchase before I landed on my ass against a calloused, organic floor. I groaned, feeling the sharp impulse traveling up my spine. I laid on the floor, collecting myself after the fall, still feeling fluid stream from my cock as the fuzzy feeling around my prostate slowly abated.
Instantly I could tell something was different with my climax. I shot my eyes down to the crotch and found that now, like the creature, I had an extra cock. Dangling from the ceiling, my vision of my sex had been obscured until now. The two cocks shared a base, and my balls looked unaffected but the twins had grown massive in size. Their nine inch lengths frotted against each other as they released my cum in long, straining pulses. Though, instead of milky white, I shot translucent, gelatinous streams. I laid on the floor, collecting myself after the orgasm, fall, and surprise anatomy changes.
I looked down to my stomach, finding a small cavity of red flesh where the tendril had been attached. A sludge of clarified blood erupted from the opening, but slowed to a trickle over a few minutes. Something deep in my mind assured me that it was alright. The gradual influence of the ether had wired my nervous system. Laying on the bruised ground, I felt my skin pricking and my eyes shifting, mind unsettled on anything. It seemed to be placating my responses at times while amplifying them at others.
“Drink the ether,” I felt. I panted a moment before rising from the ground, mindful of the fresh wound on my stomach. I stood, giving another cursory look to the humans enclosed in their pods above me. I noticed that my body was in a much different shape than the last time I came out of the ether. Before I felt wobbly and worn, but now it seemed my muscles were healthy and plump. The ease of walking took me by surprise. I looked around to the moat which stretched the perimeter of the room. Beside the stream, I stooped down to cup a glob of gelatinous ether in my hand. Rather than drinking, I had to suck the chunk into my mouth. As I clamped my jaw closed and swallowed, I couldn’t help but compare it to swallowing a raw egg whole.
As soon as I’d choked down the thick liquid, I saw a man appear in front of me. I recognized him instantly from my dreams. It was the creature.
Under the influence of the fluid, I felt as if I was almost a part of him. He was obviously projecting his visage into my mind through the ether. This, though, felt more integrated than my dreams. It was like I could see him better. Understand him. These new impulses assured me of my membership and safety under His control. The element of my consciousness that held onto fear was extinguished. My way forward would be one paved by pleasure and compliance. I could not reject this life: it was the only thing left for me. I was entirely subservient to this creature, wanting it to work with me to our advantage.
“My envoy has awakened,” he spoke. The thunderous tone instantly pulled me into the memories of him fucking me on the ornate chaise lounge.
“Your envoy?”
“There is much to discuss. Though, I need you to complete the process first.”
“The process?”
“The breeding-lock.”
“I-the what?”
“Infinite pleasure for the seed. An ancient tradition of my people, and an agreement I came to with your seed. In exchange for your servitude, I bestowed upon him a constant bounty of euphoria.”
I didn’t know what this ‘seed’ was, but my ears pricked to hear that my fate was to serve the creature. His magnificent body aroused me deeply, cocks growing engorged once more.
My deductive reasoning was aided by the ether, filling in the gaps that had eluded me thus far in this mystery.
“We’re not really in an experiment, are we?”
“No. Does that matter?”
I didn’t need to think this time. “I still get to serve you?”
He smiled widely. “You do.”
“Then I am happy.”
“Good. You have something you must do.”
“I will do what you need of me, anything you need of me.”
“I know. I am your dominator. You are subservient to me. You will remain my envoy until you are spent. You are now part of me, and I am part of you. Now please, come.”
My dominator walked over to a concealed sphincter in the wall, an action I directly followed. I had to wade through the shallow moat, tentative steps on the slick ground. I reached the wall and pressed myself against the opening. From there, I was swallowed.
On the other end, my body slid out across the floor. This was a floor that I recognized, though; I was in the ether pool room. I looked around, finding my dominator’s image waiting for me on the other side of the opening. He walked towards the pool, giant cocks bouncing, and pointed. I followed his gaze, shocked that the previously opaque purple soup had instead turned into a clear pool of viscous fluid. I followed his finger, looking down inside.
Multiple nude, hairless men were suspended in the fluid. They were all stretching and surging, bouncing like they were being fucked. Then I saw that they *were* getting fucked; tentacles extended from the walls of the pool into the throats, asses, and pissslits of the confined men. They were unconscious, but their bodies responded to sex the only way they knew how: arousal. I followed my dominator’s gesture to a man restrained by tentacles, while several more ravaged his asshole and mouth.
“Swim. You can breathe,” my dominator commanded. I stepped into the pool, noting that tiers of steps ran the perimeter of the pool. I lowered myself, climbing down the uneven fleshy shelves. I slowly submerged my head in the fluid, inhaling slowly and carefully. It was cool in my mouth. I choked, paused, then slowly resumed my breathing. I had to half-walk, half-swim to get to the man to whom my dominator was pointing.
As I approached, a silly notion popped into my head. ‘He looks like me,’ I thought. It was silly because every man looks like me once they’re shaved and their muscles inflate under the influence of the creature. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling. It was only when I was mere feet from the man, suspended in place with tentacles wrapped around—and inside—his body, did I know for sure. The small birthmark on the top of the foot. It was me.
