Mapping: Pleasure Reflex Threshold

Introduction:

Stefan thought he was alone.

A normal night. A long shower. A quiet couch. Nothing more than the weight of city exhaustion and the usual ache in his legs.

But something was watching.

Something not quite male or female not quite anything human. It didn't come crashing in from the sky. It didn't knock. It simply arrived.

And it wanted him.

It didn't speak. It studied. Tasted. Touched. What began as a dream became something real a terrifying, erotic experiment in submission, resistance, and pleasure too precise to be natural.

Now Stefan is stripped, restrained, and exposed the only subject in an alien trial designed to map the limits of human orgasm. It doesn't just want to make him cum.

It wants to understand what it means.

And it's not leaving until it has everything.

...

Stefan kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot, the satisfying thunk echoing through the quiet apartment. The sound marked the border between the outside world loud, grimy, overstimulating and the bubble of stillness he kept here like a sacred ritual. He dropped his keys onto the hallway table with a practiced flick, jacket tossed to the floor like he was shedding a second skin.

Inside, the air was cool. Still. Just how he liked it. The faint scent of wood polish and dryer sheets lingered from an earlier cleaning spree. It was the first moment all day that didn't feel like it needed something from him.

He rolled his neck. Everything ached his lower back, his thighs, even the arch of his foot. The kind of exhaustion that came from walking too far and giving too much of a damn in a city that didn't care back.

Shower first, he thought, already stripping his shirt off on the way to the bathroom. Always.

He didn't bother turning on the lights.

The bathroom was cast in dim amber from the hallway. He liked the dark. The anonymity of it. The way steam turned shadows into soft shapes.

Water blasted from the showerhead with a metallic hiss, and he stepped in, welcoming the near scalding heat with a hiss through his teeth. The kind of heat that bit back, softened muscles, and erased thought.

He washed without ceremony. Head, shoulders, chest, underarms. Down over his thighs, between them. His cock hung low and heavy, limp but substantial a presence he never thought much about. It was just there. A weight. A piece of meat he barely acknowledged unless it asked for attention.

He worked soap into his skin until the lather slicked his abs and traced the curve of his spine. It was automatic. Thoughtless. Muscle memory.

When he stepped out, water clinging to his body in droplets, he barely looked in the mirror. He wasn't a narcissist. Just a man with a big cock, sore feet, and a long day behind him.

Towel around his hips, he padded barefoot into the living room. The couch caught him like a net, the cool fabric drinking in his heat as he let himself go limp across the cushions.

No shirt. Damp skin. City tension melting slowly into the upholstery.

The TV blinked to life with a lazy flash. Some dystopian rerun about androids or plague colonies. He didn't care. It was noise. The kind that kept his thoughts from going places he didn't want them to.

He scratched his thigh, absently tugging the towel higher. His legs spread open instinctively, a cocky sprawl that didn't register as anything more than comfort. He always sat like that at home.

The sound of the TV faded into the background.

The weight of the day made his eyelids grow heavy. The couch seemed to cradle him now. The hum of the city outside dimmed to nothing. His breath slowed.

He didn't notice the change in the room.

Not at first.

There were no flickering lights. No sudden drop in temperature. No alien screech to announce intrusion. It just... was.

Something shifted.

In the corner near the bookshelf, the shadows deepened not darker, just deeper, like space itself had folded a little. The television flickered, just once, a frame skipped in the span of a blink. Too fast for the conscious mind to catch.

But something was watching now.

It had arrived.

Not from the door. Not from a crack in the ceiling or a vent. It didn't enter as much as it simply emerged, folding in from somewhere not made for human eyes.

Stefan exhaled deeply in his sleep.

That was the first invitation.

A single tendril barely more than a glistening ribbon of translucent skin slid across the floor like a whisper. It brushed the arch of his bare foot with surgical curiosity.

Cool. Wet. Alive.

His toes twitched.

Not awake. Not aware. Just a nerve ending firing.

It tested again. Slid higher. Brushed up the curve of his calf.

Still no conscious reaction. Only the tightening of skin. The subtle twitch of hair standing on end.

"Baseline reflex: acknowledged."

A second tendril joined the first, more confident. It curled around his other leg, adjusting pressure, calibrating his limb's density. Another tested the air near his groin, detecting temperature differentials, the slow heat building between thigh and towel.

His cock gave a faint twitch under the fabric. Not arousal. Just another response. Just data.

"Subject tissue density: exceptionally large. Mapping: in progress."

The alien began to wrap him two more tendrils curling gently around Stefan's thighs like silk restraints. It didn't squeeze. Not yet. Just enough contact to prepare for what came next.

Then it paused.

Watching.

Waiting.

Stefan shifted. Brow furrowing in sleep.

The entity responded immediately, tendrils stiffening.

He tried to stretch one leg. Nothing. His foot didn't budge. His thigh felt... held.

One eye fluttered open.

Something's wrong.

He tried to move again this time with purpose.

Nothing.

Panic clicked in instantly. His arms jerked--but they were already pinned, wrapped snug at the wrists by wet coils he hadn't even noticed. His muscles flexed. His breathing picked up.

"The fuck?"

His head snapped up, and then

Pull.

A sharp tug from beneath dragged his body down the couch an inch, his calves fully lifted now, suspended mid air. The towel shifted, peeling away from his hip to reveal the curve of one ass cheek and the base of his cock, still slack but shifting from the motion.

"Hey! HEY! What the fuck is this?!"

His voice was sharp, alert now but nothing answered. Just a ripple of motion behind the sofa, slick and silent, as another tendril slithered beneath the cushion.

Then one crept behind his neck.

And lifted.

The cushions fell away beneath him as his back arched upward, arms yanked outward, thighs parted, towel slipping free entirely now.

He was no longer grounded.

Stefan was airborne, half naked, suspended in the center of his living room like a specimen laid out on display.

"Okay okay, this is a joke. Right? Fucking nightmare prank? Where's the camera?"

His voice cracked between adrenaline and disbelief, jaw clenched as he scanned the room with darting, sharp eyes.

No sound. No footsteps. No blinking red lights or hidden speakers. Just the low, constant slide of something wet across the floor. Not footsteps mass. Mass that shouldn't exist.

"No. No no no fuck noo"

He twisted hard his whole torso crunching with effort as he tried to pull an arm free.

It moved with him.

The limbs around his wrists didn't just restrain they adapted, reshaping, elongating, redistributing tension like a living harness. More tendrils slipped across his midsection, bracing his abdomen like a second ribcage. Another looped beneath his knee and wrenched it outward.

Pinned. Spread. Displayed.

"Fuck this whatever this is, I'm not into it "

He roared and yanked, digging deep into his strength. His biceps bulged, sweat springing across his skin as he flexed hard, every muscle straining to break free. He actually shifted the angle of his upper body forced one of the alien limbs to stretch.

It faltered. A tremor passed through the tentacle at his wrist. For a breath just a heartbeat he was winning.

"That's right you slimy fuck, I'm not some weak ass lab rat!"

He twisted again, harder. His right wrist started to slip.

Then

The creature responded.

Instantly, two new tendrils surged forward one coiling around his forearm with precise, brutal efficiency, the other looping around his bicep and locking his arm into full extension. Anchored. The previous bindings retracted slightly, then tightened, evenly distributing pressure across his core.

"Resistance level: elevated. Specimen strength: above baseline. Adaptation engaged."

"God damn it!"

Stefan's chest heaved. His feet kicked uselessly against air, toes scraping the hardwood as he tried to launch himself forward. His core burned. Veins stood out along his arms, neck, thighs.

But the alien creature was learning.

Each movement he made was catalogued, measured, countered. Each flex of his body triggered a responsive adjustment. Not just restraint strategy.

It's adjusting to me.

A slick tendril slid up his inner thigh too smooth, too slow. Not aggressive. Deliberate.

He bucked instinctively, teeth bared.

"Touch me again, and I swear I'll tear you in half"

But his threat hit the air like steam. The appendage didn't falter. It simply waited for his outburst to finish... then crept higher.

His skin, still damp from the shower, was now slick with sweat a different kind. Panic had replaced heat. Every hair on his body stood on end.

"This is real. This is fucking real."

One thick tendril curled under the soft curve of his ass and lifted, tilting his hips slightly. His legs were parted wide, one knee drawn up, his entire groin exposed. The last remnants of the towel had long since fallen, forgotten on the floor below.

His cock hung low between his legs, still flaccid, but heavy with heat and blood. It swayed with every shift of his bound body helpless, offered.

"Don't"

But it did.

The entity hovered in front of him now no longer hiding, no longer subtle. Not a form, but a suggestion. A presence suspended in air, its body a semi fluid shimmer of light and skin like motion. It had no eyes. No face. Just intention. The air itself seemed to pulse around it, reverberating with some kind of low frequency hum, like it was... scanning.

Then it formed something new.

A limb unfolded not like a tentacle, but like a living lab tool. Bell shaped. Semi transparent. Lined with delicate, writhing feelers that moved independently inside it, like a sea creature's inner mouth. The outer rim pulsed with soft suction, as if already mimicking the rhythm of a heartbeat.

It hovered just below his cock, as if evaluating its size. Its width. Its potential.

"Genitalia identified. Deviation: significant. Collection protocol... initiated."

"No don't you fucking touch me"

The sucker pulsed once.

And began to lower.

The suction device hovered just inches from Stefan's cock, a glistening dome of translucent, fleshy material that twitched and flexed with subtle life. Its inner feelers danced like strands of fine silk caught in slow water eager, intelligent, impossibly delicate.

Stefan writhed in his bonds, sweat streaming down his neck, his abs drawn tight as he tried to buck, twist, thrash anything. But the restraints were like molded gel, elastic but inescapable. Every jerk of muscle was countered by a fluid rebalancing of pressure. He could feel the strength in his body, all of it useless.

"You fucking freak get away from my fucking dick!"

His voice cracked with rage, but even to his own ears, it sounded too thin. The room pulsed with that low, humming vibration again not a sound, more like a presence, radiating from the entity itself. An oppressive awareness that he was being watched, measured, known.

The cup lowered with precision, centering perfectly over his cock.

Not touching. Not yet.

It hovered, the tendrils inside twitching with what could only be described as anticipation. A pulse of bio light ran along the outer rim, and then it paused scanning.

A single tendril uncoiled from the base of the suction unit and moved to trace the length of his shaft, still hanging low, semi soft, but thick with blood and tension. It circled the base. Took a full measure of the girth, the skin temperature, the curvature of his foreskin.

"Specimen phallus... anomaly detected. Volume: excessive. Vein density: optimal. Stimulation protocol adjusted."

Jesus Christ, it's profiling my dick.

Then it sealed.

The sucker descended with eerie gentleness, lips of warm, organic gel forming a tight ring around the base of his shaft. The vacuum activated instantly wet, warm, and so airtight it felt like it had always been there.

"FUCK!"

His whole body twitched as the seal locked in place. It wasn't sexual not immediately. It was methodical, like a machine testing suction tolerances. The cup's inner lining flexed with rhythmic contractions, pulling gently from base to tip, creating a creeping friction that touched everything but teased nothing.

Then the feelers activated.

They writhed against the underside of his cock right on the sensitive vein, tracing it upward with infinite care. Another cluster brushed beneath the ridge of his glans, not enough pressure to stroke, just enough to tickle.

Electric pleasure lit up his spine.

His hips jerked forward with instinct, not intention. His back arched slightly. A hiss hissed through clenched teeth.

"Don't fucking"

The suction tightened, dialing in with predatory awareness.

It matched the pulse in his cock.

Every heartbeat, every throb of blood through his shaft, was mirrored by the cup's subtle contractions. It wasn't just jerking him it was syncing to him. Learning the rhythm of his arousal and feeding it back to him in controlled pulses.

His cock twitched.

Lengthened.

He watched horrified as his foreskin slid back on its own, exposing the swelling head beneath. The feelers fluttered in response, reacting like petals to sunlight.

"No. Don't you fucking dare. Stay down. Stay the fuck down"

But it wasn't.

Blood surged into his shaft like it had been summoned. The length fattened visibly. Veins surfaced. The head darkened in color, skin pulled taut. He was growing, inch by inch, helplessly.

His cock swelled to half mast.

The alien trembled.

A full body shiver ran through the tentacle that anchored the suction device like it was aroused by the change, or maybe thrilled by the data.

"Stimulus acknowledged. Subject erection: confirmed. Neural sync... initializing."

Sudden heat flooded his skull.

Pain but not pain. A jolt, like static inside the bones of his head. His vision doubled, then swam. A weight settled behind his eyes.

Then

Images.

Not his own. But they were.

A ex girlfriend on her knees, mascara running, eyes wide with tears. Him at eighteen, face fucking this girl with his cock. A gloved hand holding his dick, guiding it in a warm pussy. His hand, stroking himself to porn. His own cock, framed in the mirror, leaking as he was imagining.

"No no no no what the fuck is that get out of my head!"

He gasped. Eyes wide. His heart pounded like a drum.

The creature wasn't just sucking him it was reading him. Pulling memories. Extracting fantasies like biological code. Stefan's own buried arousal was being weaponized against him.

The suction cup tightened again.

A deeper vacuum. A firmer pull.

The feelers began stroking now, delicate but relentless, coiling gently around his shaft's underside like alien tongues, mimicking a handjob with inhuman precision.

And then something slid under his balls.

Another tendril slightly firmer, smoother lifted his sac with a slow, cradling pressure, rolling his testicles with careful weight like it was measuring them by touch.

"Jesus fucking Christ. You sick fuckkk "

The words caught in his throat as another jolt of heat speared through his cock.

And then he moaned.

Not a scream. Not a shout. Just a raw, involuntary sound a sharp, broken gasp that betrayed everything.

The creature responded instantly.

The suction cup pulsed harder. The feelers moved faster. A second, subtler pulse joined the first smaller contractions at the very tip, focused around the slit of his cock, just teasing the most sensitive point.

Then a third. Full milking rhythm.

His cock was rock hard now.

Thick. Heavy. Angry.

A drop of pre cum beaded at the tip, smeared by a writhing feeler.

"Oh my god. I'm hard. I'm actually fuck."

His whole body tensed in betrayal, cock straining against the alien's grip.

Stefan gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached, every muscle in his body drawn tight like wire under tension. The tendrils coiled around his limbs gave just enough flex to taunt him, to let him feel his own strength but never enough to break free. Sweat poured from his skin, slicking his chest and soaking the tension between his shoulder blades.

His hands curled into fists, shoulders twisting in their sockets as he threw himself into one more desperate thrash, veins standing out along his forearms, neck, thighs. He was fighting like a man possessed.

The alien didn't flinch.

A new tendril wrapped around his neck not tight, not cruel. Just enough to remind him.

Stefan stilled, breathing hard through flared nostrils. The pressure around his throat was precise controlling without strangling, confident in its message.

You're not in control.

"You want a fight, huh? Is that it?" he spat. "You get off on this shit?"

His voice rasped with the strain, with fury and desperation and a sliver of disbelief that he was still hard through all of this. Still leaking into the warm, wet suction stroking him. He yanked again savagely flexing his entire torso, hips twisting, abs knotting.

"You picked the wrong goddamn guy to pin down, you freaky glowworm!"

And then... the alien shivered.

Not from fear. Not recoil.

Response.

A pulse of faint light raced through the slick network of tendrils, a ribbon of bioluminescent fluid that shimmered like orgasm itself being transported through alien veins. The suction cup clinging to his cock twitched, once like it had gasped.

It liked that.

"Aggression detected. Subject response: intoxicating."

"Oh great," he growled, muscles shaking. "Now I've got a tentacle pervert with a thing for angry dudes. Fantastic. Could this get any worse"

He was trying to stay grounded. He needed to keep his mouth moving, even if his lungs were burning, even if his heart was hammering so hard it hurt. But every sarcastic line cost him breath, and the pressure around his throat only allowed so much of it through.

The creature didn't care.

It was watching him unravel.

Inside the suction cup, his cock pulsed hard thick and defiant as more pre cum spilled from the tip. The feelers inside twitched with clear excitement, then spread apart, unfolding like petals to accommodate more.

And Stefan did. He swelled.

He grew thicker, the skin stretched tight around flushed veins. The feelers adjusted to the new girth, twitching in approval as they resumed their endless motion gliding, wrapping, teasing just below the line of climax.

You're fucking letting it happen.

He grunted. Gritted his teeth harder. Tried to think about anything else pain, humiliation, math but the warm suction and the precision strokes kept pulling him right back to the edge.

"You're edging me..." he breathed. "You're actually... edging me"

There was no reply.

Just action.

The suction tightened again measured to his cock size, refined. The internal pressure pulsed with a cadence that matched his heart rate, then ramped slightly ahead pulling his orgasm forward, then yanking it back like a leash. It wanted him to chase it.

Stefan trembled from the effort of resisting the next moan, eyes rolling slightly as his cock throbbed at full attention. His balls ached. His abs contracted involuntarily. Every nerve was tuned to one wordless scream:

Let me cum.

But it wouldn't.

It never gave him enough.

"Nnnghh fuck stop. Just let me cum already stop this torture!"

The words ripped from Stefan's throat like a plea and a curse, his voice hoarse, cracked, half choked by the pressure in his neck and groin. His body was a battlefield slick with sweat, writhing with resistance, muscles twitching from holding off a climax that refused to come.

The suction cup pulsed again.

Not roughly delicately. Cruelly. The feelers inside flexed in tandem with the vacuum pressure, stroking his cock with a rhythm engineered not to bring him over, but to keep him pinned to the edge like a man held by the throat just before orgasm. Stefan's dick was beyond hard now engorged, veins standing out like cords, the flushed head leaking steadily, twitching with every subtle shift of suction.

It hurt.

Not pain in the true sense need.

Backed up pleasure so intense it had curdled into pressure.

His cock throbbed with every heartbeat, trapped in a state of brutal anticipation. His balls ached so deeply they felt heavy enough to drag him through the floor. And worse, the tentacle beneath them wasn't milking him, just cradling giving slow, lazy squeezes that did nothing but tease.

It knows. It's toying with me. It's enjoying this.

"I swear I swear I'll kill you if I ever get loose fuck!"

His voice broke again, and this time the room responded.

A faint pulse trembled through the air, like the alien's own form had shivered in time with his desperation. The entire network of tendrils seemed to tighten, reacting to the way he was coming undone.

It liked this.

The pressure around his cock increased, and the feelers inside flexed just slightly faster teasing his slit, running slow circles around the tip, coiling around his shaft in bands of maddening friction.

Then, a shift.

Something new slid into view.

A thicker tendril, flattened at the head, gleaming with a coat of slick, iridescent gel. It glowed faintly at the tip, pulsing like it had its own heartbeat. The curve of it was unmistakable it was shaped for one purpose, and Stefan recognized it before it even moved.

"Subject arousal: peaking. Initiating phase escalation. Insertion: approved."

"Oh no," Stefan barked, eyes wide. "Nope. You're not going in there, fuck that"

But it was already beneath him.

The tip found his entrance with unerring precision the way only a being that had mapped every inch of his body could. It didn't stab. It pressed. Patient, relentless, controlled. The gel coating made the pressure slippery, inevitable.

He clenched his ass hard, his whole body reflexively bucking. His muscles tried to close against it, to reject it but the thing was smarter. It waited for just the right second when his tension crested and dropped and then slid in.

"Nghhh fuck FUCK"

He gasped as his hole gave way, stretched around the smooth, impossibly warm shaft. The tendril didn't just fill him it fit him. Perfectly. Like it had been customized, molded to the exact width his body could take without tearing. And when it reached his prostate.

He broke.

"AH fuck! Wait wait what the fuck!"

The pressure hit his gland like a button.

The tendril pulsed once. A smooth, perfect massage that sent a jolt through his spine and made his toes curl.

Inside the suction cup, his cock twitched violently. A rope of pre cum painted the inner wall, smeared by the tongue like feelers that danced around his slit, licking, stroking, coaxing.

The two points of pleasure cock and prostate began working in sync.

The internal tendril didn't thrust. It pulsed gently expanding and contracting right against his prostate in a rhythm that matched the sucker's grip on his shaft. It wasn't trying to fuck him. It was trying to milk him. With surgical precision.

The pressure in his body ballooned.

His legs shook, trembling in their bindings. His abs fluttered, convulsing. His mouth opened wordless.

"Nononono don't cum don't you fucking cum"

But there was no stopping it.

He had no choice.

His body betrayed him. Again.

His cock flexed violently, like a twitching muscle on the verge of spasm.

The suction responded in perfect sync tightening, stroking, a wave of internal pressure matching the milking rhythm inside his ass. The tendril pulsed directly against his prostate, pressing and vibrating with clinical precision, pushing the stimulation forward in a cycle that looped through his entire nervous system like a feedback circuit.

Pressure in. Pressure out.

His body locked.

His spine arched into the air, straining the bonds to their limit, heels kicking against the restraint that held him aloft. His throat made a raw, garbled sound half moan, half sob.

Veins bulged in his neck, across his chest, his hips snapping forward involuntarily with each pulsing stroke of the suction cup as it squeezed around his cock in waves.

"I can't I can't I'm fuck!"

And then he broke.

The orgasm hit him like a seizure. Like being struck by lightning from the inside out.

He screamed loud, furious, a primal sound torn from somewhere deeper than language. Every muscle contracted at once, tendons standing out under his sweat soaked skin. His cock exploded inside the suction cup, cum shooting out in thick, violent spurts.

It didn't just spill it splashed. Hot, milky white, battering the inside of the transparent chamber in powerful pulses. The feelers coiled tighter around him, guiding each spurt like they were helping it out, drawing every drop they could.

The alien didn't stop.

The anal probe kept pulsing, fucking his prostate like it was still hungry, even as Stefan's hole spasmed around it, twitching in overstimulated chaos. His ass clenched around the invading shape, trying instinctively to push it out, but the tendril held position, massaging him from the inside with slow, purposeful pressure.

Milking. Him. Dry.

His moans degraded into wordless sounds raw, helpless, sloppy.

"Ejaculate volume: exceptional. Emotional overload: observed. Subject climax... transcendent."

His entire body convulsed.

Cum streaked the inner walls of the suction chamber in webbing arcs, smeared slowly by the internal tongues that lapped it clean. Then a small port opened at the base of the suction device. A slick tube uncoiled, glowing faintly from within.

Stefan, dazed and panting, watched horrified, mesmerized as his cum was slowly siphoned upward into the tube, the thick white fluid illuminated as it moved through the alien's translucent body, like nutrient rich plasma being fed into a machine.

"You're..." he gasped, chest heaving, "... drinking me."

The tendril around his throat flexed gently pleased.

He shuddered in mid air, suspended, limp, still impaled on the thick shaft throbbing against his prostate. His arms were dead weight. His thighs twitched. His lungs burned.

He had just cum harder than he'd ever believed was humanly possible.

And worst of all?

His cock was still hard.

It stood there flushed, leaking again, twitching like it hadn't finished. A slick mix of cum and fluid oozed from the head, already glistening beneath a fresh pass of the suction cup's inner feelers.

The alien's light pulsed again brighter now.

Satisfied?

No.

Hungry.

The creature wasn't done.

His cock wouldn't soften.

Even after that violent, mind numbing orgasm after his balls had clenched and emptied into the suction cup with a force that left his body twitching he was still hard. Not just half chubbed or twitching. Fully erect.

It throbbed, angry and wet, veins swollen like vines under his skin. The thick shaft flexed in the cup involuntarily, still leaking, still twitching like it was starved for more. Stefan sagged in the alien's grip, chest heaving, lungs scraping in shallow, panicked breaths.

Sweat slicked every inch of his body, running in trembling rivers down his torso, pooling at his collarbone and gliding down the V of his abs. His legs had stopped fighting. His arms hung limp. But inside? His nerves were on fire.

And the creature?

The creature was purring.

A ripple of heat shivered through its limbs pleasure, echoing out from its core like sonar. Every pulse of Stefan's orgasm seemed to be reflected back at him amplified, mirrored, fed into a growing feedback loop between their bodies.

"Subject climax: high yield. Neural sync reengaging. Craving response... intensifying."

"Oh god... you liked that?" he rasped, barely able to lift his head.

There was no voice in reply.

But there didn't need to be.

The sensation hit him behind the eyes: a heat, a deep, vibrating need that wasn't his. Like a second heartbeat had been spliced into his nervous system, echoing not with blood but with desire. Not his desire.

The creature's.

The suction cup on his cock pulsed again playfully, almost sweetly. Like it missed the taste already. Inside, the feelers twitched back to life, gliding along the still spread slit of his cockhead, cleaning him like a lover would after sex.

Except this lover didn't stop. This one didn't sleep.

"No nononono, too much it's too fuckin' much"

The cup tightened.

Not hard, not harsh. Just enough to grind against his still sensitive head. The feelers shifted patterns stroking him again, dragging across raw, post orgasm nerves with agonizing precision. Not pain. But something worse.

Overstimulation.

His vision blurred at the edges. He jerked in the alien's grip, a single buck that rippled down his back but his cock responded instantly, throbbing inside the cup like it had been waiting for the signal.

That's when the neck tendril coiled again.

Not to choke.

Just to haze him. To fog his brain and narrow the world to one thing: sensation.

Air thinned slightly in his throat. His jaw slackened. His head lolled back, and from somewhere behind the pounding in his ears, he heard the subtle shift the inflating pulse of the anal probe deep inside him.

It expanded. Not cruelly. Perfectly. It filled him with a slow, deliberate pressure that pressed directly into his prostate, grinding in tiny, expert pulses like it was stirring up whatever cum he had left.

He choked on a moan.

"Secondary orgasm sequence: initiated."

"You no you sick... fuckin' nnnghh!"

He twitched as the stimulation ramped back up. His cock was fully erect again maybe harder than before. It looked obscene: flushed, swollen, redder than it should've been. The veins throbbed visibly. Fluid dripped from the tip, smeared around by the feelers like they were savoring it.

He could feel it the change.

Something chemical. His blood was hot. His heart pounded, thudding against his ribs like a signal trying to get out. The alien had done something. Hacked him. Tuned him for pleasure. There was no other explanation. Human bodies weren't meant to cum like that and still be ready again.

You're not even giving me time to recover.

The suction on his cock started again.

No rhythm. No stroking pattern he could follow. Just cruel, broken pulses enough to tease the base, to make his balls feel full again, to drag him toward the edge with no chance to fall over it.

It brought him close.

Then backed off.

Again.

And again.

And again.

"Please" he gasped, voice cracking. "I can't I'm gonna fucking pass out"

The choking tendril pulsed gently in response reassuringly, like a hand on his throat from someone who knew exactly how much pressure not to apply.

You're not going anywhere.

The tentacle stimulator inside his ass began pulsing faster now matching the beat of his own heart. It wasn't just massaging anymore. It was milking. A slow, rolling kneading of his prostate that made his vision scatter every few seconds like he was blinking between worlds.

He could feel the tension rising again no build up, no warm up. Just pressure. The need to cum swelling in his gut like magma in a sealed chamber.

His toes curled. His thighs trembled.

His entire body was starting to twitch on its own.

"Subject nearing breach limit. Biological breakdown: imminent. Emotional peak desirable."

He whispered, stunned, dazed, aching.

"You... you're getting off on this. Aren't you you fucking monster?"

The alien shivered in response. Its translucent body rippled almost glowing from within.

"You're fucking high on me..."

The tentacles lifted him higher, almost reverently now. His cock stood up like it had a mind of its own, pulsing thickly into the sucker, which had begun throbbing with hunger. From beneath, the prostate stimulator grew more frantic massaging, pressing, buzzing. The two points of pleasure closed in around him like a vice.

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck"

The edge hit again.

And it didn't stop.

Stefan couldn't breathe.

Or maybe his body just didn't remember how anymore.

Between the firm, deliberate squeeze around his throat and the inferno churning in his core, his brain had gone fuzzy like his thoughts were being filtered through static and honey. His cock pulsed, overfilled, flushed purple and leaking freely. It felt like it was made of lead and fire. Too hard. Too much. Too ready.

The suction cup now emitted a faint, needy whine, like it was impatient like it had tasted him once and was now starving for another. Inside the translucent chamber, a gleam of his previous orgasm still smeared the interior. The feelers caressed his tip like fingertips whispering across a trembling lip.

Down below... the tentacle probe in his ass had gone still.

Not retreating.

Just waiting.

It didn't thrust. It didn't grind.

It possessed his prostate hovering, pulsing lightly, enough to make his inner walls clench with rising panic and pleasure.

The gland felt swollen now overstimulated, backed up again with pressure, like his body was about to cum from the inside out.

"Simultaneous climax protocol engaged. Nutrient collection: priority."

"I fuck stop no, no!"

But the probe moved.

Only it wasn't going deeper.

It was withdrawing.

A thick squelch echoed inside him as the tentacle slid back out, slow and smooth. Stefan gasped at the sensation his hole clenching reflexively as the pressure eased. It felt like being emptied but not freed.

Then he saw it.

The tentacle morphed as it emerged twisting, thickening, reshaping itself in real time.

At first it was just a bulge. Then a curve. Then

His cock.

Stefan's breath caught in his throat.

"No. No. No no no no"

The tendril in front of him now bore a perfect replica of his cock exact girth, length, even the slight upward curve. It hung heavy from the alien's slick limb, glistening with bio lube, veins glowing faintly beneath the surface like his blood had been transcribed in light.

That's mine. It's It's my fucking dick.

His jaw dropped. His heart stuttered. He shook his head, eyes wide with raw, animal fear.

"You can't you're not you can't put that in me!"

He began to thrash violently.

Adrenaline flooded him in a final burst. His arms yanked hard against the restraints, chest arching with the force of his protest. His legs kicked in mid air. He twisted, snapped, growled through clenched teeth like a trapped animal about to break free.

The tendrils responded immediately tightening across his body, gripping harder with inhuman coordination. The one at his neck flexed. Another crossed his chest diagonally, forcing his ribs into compressed stillness.

"I'll rip you apart I'll fucking kill you if you put that"

But it was already beneath him.

The head of the replicated tentacle cock his own cock pressed against his entrance. Wet. Insistent. Too real.

His hole clenched shut in defiance.

But the alien had mapped him already.

It waited for the moment his body relaxed between twitches, between spasms and then it pushed.

Not hard. Relentless.

"NO!"

The copy slid into him, stretching him to his own proportions. Stefan screamed through his teeth, whole body tensing as inch by inch disappeared inside, pressing straight into the center of him.

And when it bottomed out?

It pulsed.

Right against his prostate.

His own dick, used to milk him from the inside.

"Oh god oh fuck oh god, what the fuck is happening to me"

It didn't fuck him. It held.

One slow, repeated pulse.

A slight rocking motion that pressed against his swollen gland, not to thrust just to milk. Just to squeeze the orgasm out of him like a sponge wrung from both ends.

Up top, the suction cup went active again gripping, stroking, its inner tongues circling his tip and pumping down his shaft in tight, hungry spirals.

His spine arched into a perfect bow, held taut as a drawn arrow.

His breath vanished.

His balls pulled tight against his body.

"I'm ah fuck, I'm gonna FUCK!"

His second orgasm slammed into him like a second death.

No warning. No control. No dignity.

His cock exploded again violent, forceful spurts that splashed thick ropes of cum against the cup's clear interior. The sound was lewd. Wet. Slapping.

And still it didn't stop.

His prostate erupted, the tentacle pressing into it vibrating wildly now, coaxing a deeper, full body release. Cum fountained from him in waves, thicker than before, like his body had been building this second load since the first one hit.

He was coming from both ends.

His belly spasmed. His thighs kicked weakly. His eyes rolled back, mouth open in a silent scream as his own tentacle cock now weaponized against him milked his prostate into collapse.

He watched his cum pool and slosh inside the cup, then begin to rise siphoned up into a glowing tube like fuel being collected.

"F fuck it's... it's sucking the soul outta me..."

The alien shuddered.

Visibly.

Its body lit up white blue, glowing in pulses. The air around them buzzed, heat spiking, the alien's form rippling and contorting like it was overwhelmed. Not Stefan's pleasure. Its own.

It was climaxing with him.

"Oh my god." Stefan groaned, half lucid. "You came."

His head lolled back, barely supported by the tendril still wrapped around his neck no longer restraining, now just... holding.

Cradling.

His mouth hung open, chest rising in weak, shallow breaths. The sweat on his skin had dried to a sticky sheen. His limbs didn't ache anymore. They just... didn't move.

His cock was still twitching, softly, drained but not at peace. The shaft gave a final involuntary flex as a bead of slick fluid slid from the tip and clung to the lip of the suction cup. The device detached with a slow, wet slurp, sagging under the weight of the cum it had collected thick and pearlescent, smeared along the interior like evidence.

Down below, his asshole fluttered around the shaft still buried inside pulsating around his prostate.

His body wanted it out.

But the probe didn't respond right away. It remained inside him for just a few more seconds, unmoving. Like it was reluctant to leave. Like it was savoring the shape of him from within, imprinting the memory of his heat and pressure before letting go.

And then, at last, it withdrew.

A slick, wet stretch. A slow retreat. Stefan groaned softly as his hole closed behind it, loose and pulsing, the strange emptiness inside him.

"Sample acquired. Subject integration: complete."

He was floating.

Not just suspended mid air by the soft nest of glistening limbs cradling his body but floating inside his own mind. Thought was no longer linear. Memories dissolved into fog. Every moment became a blur of friction, heat, soundless pleasure.

He was untethered.

His mind unraveled, thread by thread. There were no more protests. No more curses. No more fight. Just occasional spasms in his thighs. A twitch in his toes. The rise and fall of his chest.

And then, a pulse.

Gentle. Almost... affectionate.

It rippled through the tendrils wrapped around him like a purr soft, low, content. It was the alien's version of a lover's sigh. A post coital hum of completion.

Stefan barely noticed the movement as one final limb emerged.

Not thick. Not invasive.

Just a single, needle fine tendril, glowing faintly at the tip like a drop of bioluminescent dew. It hovered over his forehead, pulsing in sync with his slowed heartbeat.

It lowered.

Touched his skin

and his mind shattered.

A silent crack echoed through the space behind his eyes as the signal surged. Not pain. Just... erasure. A wipe. A reset. The thread of thought snapped clean.

His muscles slackened.

His mouth closed slightly.

His eyes fluttered once.

And then darkness.

Stefan jolted awake, chest heaving.

His heart pounded like he'd just run ten blocks. For a second, he didn't know where he was his mind caught in the space between dreams and something else, something too real to be forgotten, and too impossible to believe.

Then he blinked.

He was in his bed.

Familiar. His room. Pale morning light filtered through the half closed blinds, painting stripes across his body. His sheets clung to his skin damp with sweat. The air in the room felt thick, humid.

His boxers were halfway down his hips.

His thighs were redish.

A cold tingle crawled down his spine.

"Ugh... the fuck...?"

He groaned, lifting one hand to rub the sleep from his eyes, the other pushing the sheets off with a sluggish shove. His legs felt heavy. His skin... hypersensitive. Even the brush of cotton over his cock made him flinch.

Dull pressure lingered deep in his core, like something had been there. Like something had stretched him, used him.

But he does not remember anything.

He sat up slowly. The fog in his head was thick, cotton wrapped and persistent. His temples ached like he'd been drinking, but he hadn't touched a drop the night before.

Not that he could remember.

Because that was the problem there was no memory.

Just flashes. Impressions. Heat. A strange phantom pressure behind his eyes. His cock twitched against his thigh.

Not arousal.

Reflex.

His gaze dropped to the space between his legs.

"What the...?"

Cum stains.

All over the inside of his boxers. Thick. Viscous. More than he ever remembered unloading in his life. It wasn't just a spurt. It was a soak a full body release. The fabric clung wetly to the curve of his cock and the base of his balls.

"Did I... have a wet dream?"

He said it aloud, voice dry and low, trying to laugh it off.

But the words didn't feel right.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the lingering weight of it all. He didn't remember jerking off. Didn't remember even crawling into bed. And yet his body told a different story.

His abs ached.

His prostate pulsed faintly, as if it was itchy.

"Jesus... haven't had a wet dream in years," he muttered.

But it didn't feel satisfying.

It felt like something had been taken.

He peeled off the soaked underwear and stepped out of bed. A faint ache echoed low in his back, a throbbing fatigue deep in his hips and pelvis, like he'd been fucking someone, having sex all night after a party while high on weed and drunk.

He shuffled to the bathroom, rubbed the crust of sleep from the corners of his eyes, and glanced up into the mirror.

Everything looked normal.

Almost.

He leaned in, narrowing his eyes.

Just at the base of his neck, near his collarbone... a faint red ring. Thin. Perfect. Almost like a pressure mark left by something coiled gently around him.

He frowned.

Stared at it.

Then shook his head and let out a sharp breath through his nose.

"Too many fucked up dreams lately," he muttered, turning on the tap. Must have been from the gym doing that workout.

Cold water hit his hands.

His cock still twitched once idly, like it remembered something his brain refused to give him.

He didn't notice.

And he went on with his day.