Melanie's Conversion Ch. 02

CHAPTER 2: THE YORKUN ENCOUNTER

He sat impatiently at the computer, staring at the screen. He had laid the young woman in the middle of the sub-basement room in perfect view of the camera. He was sure the woman would be coming out of hypnosis at any time. He began wondering if he had somehow put her too deeply under. It had been a while since he last attempted using it.

Then something happened. He sat up straighter and leaned forward. The camera quality wasn't good. It was fine at the time for what was available, but now he wished he had replaced it with a newer version. Then, he saw it again. Her right foot, bare like the rest of her, moved several inches. Her right arm rose, and she rubbed her face. She was coming to. Where was the goo-thing, though? Why wasn't it there? This woman was what he asked for.

* * * *

Melanie was slowly regaining awareness. She felt groggy, confused. He said he was only going to help her relax, but she was sure she had been put deeply under by the way she felt, disoriented and sluggish. She rubbed ar her face to bring her eyes into focus. She was lying on a floor, a very hard floor. What happened to the couch she had been on?

"Where am I?" she uttered with confusion. She turned her head to the side and saw only stone in the walls and the floor. The ceiling looked like thick, rough-cut wood planks. "What's going on?" she muttered. She propped herself onto an elbow. "Why am I naked!" she screamed. "Listen, Mr. ... whatever! Where are you? Where am I? What did you do to me?"

She quickly stood and ran to the only door she could see in one wall. She pulled and pushed on the handle, but nothing happened. It was locked, and she saw no way to open it from her side. She turned, pressing her back against the door. "Calm yourself," she muttered to herself. "I don't seem to be hurt. It doesn't feel like he violated me. Think. This is a problem, and you are good with problems."

* * * *

Up in the first basement, the man was glued to the monitor. She was talking. Was she talking to herself? Where was the goo-thing? He was getting frustrated. Worse, he had no communication with the goo-thing. It was quiet. He watched the screen and saw her near-panic at finding herself naked and in a strange room. Then, she ran to the door. Damn, he couldn't see her there. What was happening?!?

* * * *

Melanie had calmed herself. Logically, panic wasn't going to help. She had panicked; she had screamed her anger. Nothing had changed. The man wasn't responding. Because he couldn't or because he wouldn't? He had to have put her in this other room, wherever it was. There was nobody else ... at least not that she knew of. So, if he was still responsible for all this, and he wasn't responding to her, how was she going to help herself?

"Why is he doing this to me?" she uttered aloud to herself. "What is he up to? Why isn't he at least explaining himself and his purpose, if he has me trapped?" She stood at the locked door and gazed at everything she could see in the room. The only things in the room besides stone walls, floor, and her were two wrought iron stands with shining orbs on top. There was one on each side of the room as she faced from the door. She walked to the one on the right. The metal was hard and ornate, but also bolted to the floor and adjacent wall. The orb didn't just shine light into the room that had no windows or other light source, but also radiated heat.

She then slowly walked the entire perimeter of the room looking at all seams and surfaces for anything that might indicate a possible weakness. All she found was solid stone walls and floors. The ceiling was at least 10 feet above the floor. Without a ladder, she wasn't getting that high for inspection. She stood in the center of the room, her shoulders sagging. But she quickly straightened. She couldn't accept defeat. There had to be a way. "But why doesn't he respond? He could at least do that?"

"He can't hear you."

Melanie turned in a tight circle. "Who said that? Is it you, Mister? What are you doing taking my clothes and locking me in this room?"

"He can't hear you."

She looked around the room a second time. "Wait," she mumbled, "that voice didn't even sound like the man. Who is talking to me? Are you using a speaker located somewhere in here?" She didn't see one, though. She walked around the perimeter without finding a speaker, but she did find a camera in the ceiling corner at the wall with the door. "So, you're spying on me, too?"

"Very good," came the voice again. "He thought he was being so clever, but I found it quickly, too."

"Who are you? Where are you?"

"I am here, too. Who I am is ... complicated."

What does that even mean, she thought? He is here, but she can't see him. There is no place to hide. "Wait," she said suddenly having a thought that didn't make sense. That voice, the way it sounded. "Say that again," she said, and she raised her hands to cover her ears.

After a soft chuckle, "I said, I am here, too. Who I am is complicated."

"Weird," she said. "I'm not hearing you at all, am I? You're in my head. Why is this happening to me?"

"Very good, indeed," the voice or whatever exclaimed with delight. "He said you were intelligent, and I am glad you are. You are much more intelligent than he is, I assure you."

"So," Melanie thought to him, "I don't need to speak, either?"

"Correct. Even when you speak, I am only able to process what was in your mind."

"Am I correct in believing that the man can also hear what we are thinking? Or, at least you?" Melanie asked, while trying to understand more.

"No, he cannot. It would be possible, of course, but I have the ability to block him or anyone, if I choose. He hasn't heard me since he brought you in here. I am sure he is getting frustrated by that because this room is without any other means for him to hear what happens."

"Are you trapped here, too?" Melanie asked.

She heard his laugh in her head. "No, I am not trapped. He thinks I am trapped, but walls don't hold me."

"If you aren't trapped, why are you here? Why not just leave?" Melanie was quite shocked about herself at the moment. Here she was, completely naked, and conversing with someone or something, and only using her mind. Just another day? Quite obviously not.

"He thinks he conjured me into existence here. I believe that was his term. Anyway, he believes he made my appearance happen. He was using knowledge he didn't understand. I noticed it, thought it might be interesting to investigate. I am always looking for interesting specimens."

"Okay, but why am I here?" Melanie asked, intrigued by the conversation and forgetting her situation, for a moment.

"Well, as it turned out, you may well be the specimen I sought."

Silence. Maybe for the first time, the situation of the room really sank into her consciousness. Quiet. No outside sounds. The only sound was her breathing.

"What do you mean, specimen?" she blurted out loud. "Show yourself," she demanded boldly.

"Okay ... look above you."

Melanie looked straight up at the ceiling above her. There on the ceiling was a ... what was that? It looked very much like a large, black puddle of flowing tar or thick slime. Before she could even scream, a stream of it dropped down and quickly encased her head. She did scream, but without sound as the stuff covered her mouth and her head entirely. Her first impression, of course, was to pull it off, but that wasn't happening. It appeared like a soft substance, but the feel of it over her head was firm, like a rubber mask. Her second impression was that she was about to suffocate. This was how she was going to die? She struggled and flailed, but to no use. Her third impression was shock ... she was breathing. How was she breathing with that stuff covering her head?

Then, it got stranger. She felt the stuff flow over her shoulders, and under her arms as she was lifted into the air. At first, she held herself on her toes, but soon she was suspended above the floor. She violently swung her arms and kicked her legs. It was no use, of course. She wasn't giving up her resistance, but something else was happening, too. Was it breathing through the stuff? Her body and mind were relaxing against her will. And ... there was nothing she could do about it.

When she sank into unconsciousness with the hypnosis, she had slipped into a blackness, a condition of not being aware. This was different. It was black, of course, because of the stuff covering her eyes. She was at peace, but not unconscious. She was aware, yet relaxed. Her arms and legs hung below her as she was comfortably held in the air by the stuff.

Her mind was buzzing. A probe of some kind? She mused it to herself, while unconcerned if it, the thing, also heard her thoughts. There was no response from it. It was the eeriest sensation. It was as if ... maybe it really was ... as if her mind was being scanned, similar to what could be done on a computer hard drive. She didn't feel it, not really, but she sensed it.

Eventually, she did go dark. Fatigue? The eventual effect of whatever the relaxant was? As the sensation of darkness, unconsciousness overtook her, the reason for it lacked significance to her.

* * * *

Melanie woke on the floor again. She was curled in a fetal position. She was also still naked. Why did she even check, she wondered? Why would she suddenly be dressed? She was trapped here for some purpose she didn't understand. She rolled over to sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees pulled tightly into her chest, her long blonde hair cascading over the sides of her legs.

Strangely, the thought that came to her was how comfortable the room temperature and stone surfaces were. Stone should transmit the coolness from the other side, the dirt side. Wasn't that what happened in basements?

She took a slow, deep breath through her nose, and released it slowly through her mouth. Relax. She repeated it several times. She was naked. She was trapped. It called her a specimen. Nothing to be stressed about, right?

She remembered and looked up at the ceiling above her. Nothing. Where was it? How could something that seemed to spread so far over the ceiling and also down to her not be visible now?

"Where are you?" she asked as she remained sitting on the floor with her knees pulled tightly against her. "What did you do to me?"

"You were correct in your assessment. I was scanning your brain to learn about your species and you, in particular. Over time, I have encountered your species, but never one of sufficient interest. You ... Melanie ... are complex and intriguing."

"I'm not sure that's a good thing," Melanie softly uttered after giving up trying to locate it. "After all, you called me a specimen."

"Yes, I wish to study you. I understand that you are scared in your current circumstance you find yourself. I have no intention of harming you, Melanie. I only wish to study your responses. Surely, a brain like yours would understand the need for evaluation of various conditions and stimuli in the process of study and research."

Melanie sighed. She was a specimen, something to be studied. She was also without options. What kind of studies? What conditions and stimuli? For what purpose? Mere curiosity? Somehow, mere curiosity didn't feel likely.

"You called me by name, what do I call you?" she asked in an attempt to provide some normality to her condition.

"Yes, I like you, Melanie. You seek to understand, also, don't you? Your mind is intriguing to me. Here you are trapped and vulnerable; that's how being without clothing makes you feel, correct?"

"Very vulnerable, yes."

"I am a Yorkun. Our species do not have names like you, and other species I have encountered."

"How do you discern one from another, then?" she asked. She found her response interesting even to her. Everything it had said was true. She was trapped and vulnerable and very uncertain about her future, yet she was trying to understand, to learn about it.

"Yorkun are not generally of a particular place. Encountering each other is rare; hence, the need for names died out long ago."

"Yorkun," she repeated in her mind. "May I call you by that, then?" It agreed. "You say you wish to study me. To what end?"

"The extent and form of the study will evolve as it necessarily should. I am sure you understand that. You are concerned for yourself, your safety, and your future. I discerned that during my scan of you. But, surely, you understand how a good study proceeds."

She smiled and shook her head. Smiled? In her situation? "Yes, of course. A good investigation, experiments to derive an understanding, cannot proceed along a path of expectation, preconceived results, but allowing the results to determine the path of discovery."

"Yes, excellent. I am interested in something I have discovered, Melanie. You are highly accomplished and confident in regards to your activities when in the use of your brain. In fact, you seem to be highly accomplished and regarded for it. However, in regard to your physical being ... you are very conflicted. Why is that? From everything I can discern, your body should be appealing for your species."

Why indeed, Melanie thought to herself, if to herself was even possible any longer. Yes, she was conflicted.

"What was it that man said about you ..." the Yorkun mused, "yes, your body is curvy and voluptuous. Those are attractive terms, am I correct?"

"I suppose," she conceded. "I am a person within myself. Didn't you see that, also? It is more accurate to say I am conflicted in dealing with other people, with emotions, and those responses. Emotions produce an opening into a person that can make them vulnerable to ..." she paused and sighed deeply. It was her upbringing, her lack of being cared for with solid emotional caring and loving. "It can leave one vulnerable to being hurt emotionally."

That was followed by a long silence. It became unnerving, but she had apparently given the Yorkun something to think about.

"Yet," the Yorkun began again, "you sought out that man for a way to intercede in helping you open up to experiences like that. You see, Melanie, I was looking for a female of your species with experiences in the desires of the body."

"I don't have those experiences, though. You would know that from your scan, correct?" she challenged.

"True, but you desire them. You desire them very much, and that was what intrigued me. Your mind and your body." Another pause. "By the way, what is wrong with your body? If your body is voluptuous, isn't that a good thing?"

She laughed out loud. That's the conflict, isn't it? She has always sought to be anonymous in life, not draw attention, but get the studies or work done perfectly. "My breasts are too large, my hips a bit too wide. They are ..."

"They are what makes you voluptuous, correct? You always felt alone in life, and your body drew too much attention?"

Damn, she thought. It reads minds, she mused. It knows what you think and feel, even. Could all the questions also serve to bring her awareness to her consciousness and resolution? It seems to have some focus on her body and those experiences. Why?

"You are correct, Melanie. I am focused on what your body represents, and that you have the latent desires for those experiences your ... voluptuous ... body could provide."

"I don't understand," she confessed.

"You will."

Sitting in the middle of the room on the floor, she was no longer tightly holding herself together. Her hands were behind her body supporting her, and her legs stretched out straight before her. She saw the Yorkun slide down the wall from the far corner. The sight of it didn't immediately frighten her. She was curious how it could disappear into the corner, however. And she was curious about how it seemed to flow while still having substance. When it reached the floor, it flowed into a thicker mass, a puddle but thick. It seemed to ripple, undulate, rising and falling in place. It covered about a six-foot diameter of floor surface, but she didn't think that size was at all significant to its real size or existence. As it began to flow toward her slowly, she wondered if it might take shape, somehow make their communication more personal.

All of that was churning in her mind, and she half expected it to respond at some point, but it didn't. She knew it had responded to her musing rather than only to direct questions and comments. But nothing came. Except it. It came, flowed towards her.

She watched with a strange fascination. It hadn't hurt her before when it had complete hold of her. It stopped at her feet and split to flow along either side of her where she sat. It flowed all the way around her on the floor without actually touching her. She found herself surrounded.

"What are you doing, Yorkun?" she asked.

"I like that, Melanie. It feels personal, doesn't it? It feels like we have a connection, correct?"

"Yes," Melanie responded with a smile. The Yorkun being so close while communicating felt nice. "That is what name use can do."

It undulated around her, rising and shifting. She still wondered if it might form a shape and what shape. A human shape? Then, why surround her?

She felt it first on her hands. The Yorkun covered and encased her hands, pulling them away from her body and holding her fast. She was about to struggle with her legs when the same thing happened to her feet, her legs being pulled up into the air, and to her body until her knees bent and it held her feet to the backs of her thighs and pulled her thighs apart. She craned her head up to see. She was lewdly exposed. She wiggled her body, but to little effect. What ...?

Melanie's attention was drawn to a column of the Yorkun rising on either side of her upper body. It rose about a foot and a half, swaying in place, then ... she gasped as it turned and latched onto each nipple. She struggled as it held the nipples firmly. She stared as she saw, then felt, an action like sucking and twisting over the nipples.

"Oh God, no," she gasped. "I don't ... I'm not like that ... don't, please ... oh my God," she gasped at that assault and sensations.

Even when she 'researched' porn on the internet to feed her questions of desires, she never allowed herself to experiment physically. Now ... an unknown life form, an unimaginable species, was doing what she hadn't ever allowed.

"The nipples are very sensitive to stimulation like this, correct?"

Her mind struggled. The stimulation she never experienced was an experiment for the Yorkun. She struggled. "Oh God, yes," she uttered, gasping as unknown sensations spread over her. "Very ... sensitive," her response resorted back to mental. "Oh God, why? What are ... you doing to me?"

"I said I wanted to study your responses. You said you didn't understand them. Do you now?"

"OH ... YESSSSS," Melanie gasped at the new sensations. She raised her head. She had to see what it was doing. The motion over her nipples continued as other fingers of the stuff wound around her breasts and squeezed and massaged. Her head fell back as she gasped in response.

"No experiences, but you are so responsive, Melanie. You really do desire, don't you?"

She didn't need to respond. Her body was doing all the responding that was needed. She had read stories and watched videos for a sense, but the sense as an observer did nothing in retrospect to what it was like. But did she really want it? And, especially, did she really want it like this?

She felt something at her butt. She craned her head up again to see, but it was at the floor level. Not for long, though, as she watched. It flowed up over her pussy. No, she thought somehow, flow isn't right ... moved. It was a deliberate moving, not flowing. It was moving deliberately over her pussy. Then, she watched as it separated into two fingers, one covering her clitoris while the other stroked over her pussy.

Her head fell back with deeper gasps and moans. "Oh God ... OH YESSSS ... nooooooo ... I mean ... ohhhh, what ... are you doing ... to me? Ohhhh it feels ... so ..." she gasped and moaned.

She quickly pulled her head up. Her nipples were still being stimulated, as her clitoris was. She strained higher to look, to try to see what it was doing at her pussy. Then, the finger at her pussy pulled away. Her knees pulled back to her body and opened everything to her gaze. The stuff remained just inches from her exposed pussy and, as she watched, the finger grew in length and thickness. She stared unbelieving.

"NO ... please, Yorkun, please, I've never ..."

But her pleas were in vain. The formed shape was already at her pussy. She watched in distress and shame as it parted her pussy lips and slid along it just between the lips.

"Oh no," she thought in amazement or wonder or fear, "is that me causing that shine on the tip?"

"You are aroused, Melanie," came the Yorkun back to her, "surely you understand your body, even if you've never experienced it."

"Oh fuck ..." she exclaimed, "my own body... is betraying me."

Her head fell back, but the touch at her pussy became firmer, and she had to look back. She watched as the tip pressed between her pussy lips, moved until it sank into her hole. She gasped loudly and moaned repeatedly. It stayed just inside her for a moment before pressing deeper, pulling back slightly and pressing even deeper.

Her head dropped back as her body shook and shivered, and a warm, yet surprisingly intense sensation consumed her. She felt it in her pussy, her nipples, and throughout her body as her muscles shivered and twitched like an electric impulse was shooting through her.

"MY GOD ... OH FUCKKKK ... OH YESSSSSSS!" she screamed.

Yet, it wasn't done. Deeper and deeper, faster and faster, the thing probed her pussy while becoming thicker and thicker until she felt it filling her inside, and it still thrust into her. Her pussy pulsed and spasmed and clenched around the invading object. It seemed to consume her. The sensations, the fullness. So hard and thick as it plunged into and out of her clasping pussy. Her body began shaking, twitching, on fire. Another orgasm and it continued thrusting into her when it began on her clitoris again, too. Then, just before her mind and body could not take any more, yet another orgasm.

* * * *

Melanie had the craziest and most erotic dreams. And, as she began the process of waking, she was remembering them in detail. It was so unlike her. Then ... she opened her eyes.

She sighed deeply in resignation. She quickly glanced around the stone room, searching each corner and shadow. She spotted the camera again. She wondered if the man had enjoyed her violation. Had he known that was what would happen? She hated her violation, but she decided she hated his viewing of it even more.

Her violation. The thought of it spurred her fully awake and onto her knees. She searched harder for the Yorkun. How does it disappear so completely in the seemingly sealed room? She quickly located the corner of the ceiling the Yorkun seemed to appear from. Was there a reason for that or merely coincidental?

She quickly moved to the opposite corner of the room and glanced up at the corner with the camera and decided she might be out of sight of him. She realized she had her legs crossed and thighs tightly pressed together. Her arms were across her body, one over her full breasts, and the other covering her pubic area.

How long had she been out? Heck, how long had she been in the room? She had no way of judging time. No windows and no measure of change in the form of light or sounds.

She was pressed tightly into the corner, trying to close herself from the memory of the Yorkun using her body. Her mind was racing with thoughts and consideration, though. That was how her mind worked. That was why she had always been successful in everything she did that involved any mental work. Why had the Yorkun done that to her? What was the purpose? Was it just sexual? That didn't seem right. Study. It had insisted that his purpose in being here and having her was for study. Study of what? Just humans? Just human females? It had also said it wanted a female with desires, and apparently, her desire for desires was sufficient for it. It wasn't just that, though, she mused while trying to close herself in on herself, as if that were even possible. It said it wanted to study responses.

Melanie shook her head. "No!" she screamed aloud, surprising herself by the sound. A flood of memories filled her mind of how she had responded to the Yorkun when it had ... had ...

"Yes, Melanie," the mental voice of the Yorkun came to her, "you did respond well to that, didn't you?"

From the opposite corner at the ceiling, she saw the Yorkun form. "No ... no, I didn't. I don't want that." She uttered it out loud, but to convince it or herself? She shook her head. She was so confused. "No, that's not what I do. I mean ... I've never ... I've never done anything like that. I don't want more. Too ... too much ..."

"You are an amazing female of your species, Melanie. And, thank you, by the way."

"Thank me? For what? For using me like that?" she challenged.

"Dear Melanie, no. I used you, as you referred to it. I didn't really give you the choice, did I? It was for my study of you. Your response, remember? No, I thank you for referring to me by name. The man used terms like 'thing' or 'goo' or 'slime'. So, thank you."

"You are welcome, I guess." Melanie was still clutching herself in the corner. It was a highly defensive posture. Maybe he would stop if he was thanking her for merely treating it with some form of respect. No, that wouldn't do it unless it had learned all it had needed to learn, and that seemed very unlikely.

"Can I ask you something?" Melanie asked, finally.

"Of course, Melanie. I wish to study you, and I respect your mind. You are very interesting. I welcome a dialog with you. Why wouldn't a mind like yours wish to study me, as well?"

She had to smile at that. There was respect there. Despite the reality of her violation, she recognized the mutual respect between them. As she formed her question, though, she felt a deep blush wash over her, but she continued, pulling herself even tighter into the corner.

"Are you a male of your species?"

A chuckle. "No, Melanie. Remember that we don't use names because we are rare in common existence. If I were to feel the need to create another of me, I would merely separate a portion, and another would be formed. Unlike most species, we do not need male or female."

"Then ... what you did to me?"

"Was study, Melanie. All that I do is for study. You did enjoy what I did, didn't you, Melanie?"

She shook her head violently. "No ... no, I didn't. I don't want that again."

Another chuckle. "We both know that isn't true. The very reason you came to that man was to find a way to experience what you just experienced. Are you trying to convince yourself out of some kind of modesty or convince me to stop my studies?"

"No ... no, no. You mean there is more? It's too much. Okay, I admit it, I did want to experience what it was like, but ... but it is too much."

"Oh, there is much more, Melanie. I keep saying how interesting I find your responses. Your mind and your body. Actually, if I were to jump ahead in my studies, which would be very inappropriate, I would imagine they might be equally magnificent in capability. I am even more interested in you now. What the man had said about you only piqued my curiosity. Now, I am sure about you." There was silence, and Melanie wasn't sure she dared fill the void. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear more. It didn't stop the Yorkun, though. "It only feels like too much, my Melanie, because it is so new to you. Your body is ripe for those experiences. It was made to experience them."

No, her mind flailed at the thought. She was made for rationality, for analysis, and for logical determination and action. No, she said in rejection of the thought, but even to her own thinking, it sounded weak and hollow.

She looked up in the other corner. The camera. Negotiation came to her mind. "You said you could just separate a part of you. Can you cover the camera?"

Silence. It was considering, possibly her motive. "You wish to not allow the man to see what happens?" She nodded her response. "That would cause two of us to be here." A chuckle again. She didn't think she could continue to handle one, much less another, also. "I understand your desire that he not find his own pleasure in our activities. I can damage it for you."

"Yes, thank you, Yorkun."

"And, if I do that for you?"

The Yorkun was negotiating with her, too. She smiled despite herself and her situation. She actually believed it didn't mean her harm. It was just ... just the form his studying was taking that offended her.

"I ... I won't fight you so much," she conceded.

She watched as the Yorkun flowed along the junction of the ceiling and wall to the other corner where the camera was located. She watched it cover the camera, saw it bubble in action over it, and saw its shape form from the corner. The bottom part of the Yorkun separated from the corner, and the camera fell to the floor.

* * * *

"What happened? Why did the camera suddenly go blank?" the man upstairs screamed.

He punched keys to no avail. He restarted the computer. He tried to restart the camera. It was as if there was no connection at all.

He sat back in the chair and stared at the blank window on the monitor that should show images from the camera. Why he could no longer hear the goo-thing was one problem. When the thing had covered the woman's head and raised her off the floor, he feared it was only intent on killing her. Why? But then ... when it had fucked her. Her response was ... now ... now he had nothing. He had the saved file, though. That was something, but what of the goo-thing? If he couldn't see or communicate ... would he have to go down there? Did he dare to go down there?

* * * *

"This will be an interesting addition to my study, Melanie," the Yorkun said after it had flowed to the floor into a large puddle.

"How do you mean?"

"The man, of course. What will his response be? Consider the situation, Melanie. You are here with me in easy, respectful communication even if you are still reluctant to continue my study. He is up there wondering what happened to his easy access to watching what happens here. He always thought he had brought me here, trapped me, and was studying me to possibly control me? Now, what does he do? Come down here? It will be interesting, don't you think?"

Melanie laughed out loud. She saw what the Yorkun meant. She wondered if the man would come. But, if he thought the Yorkun was his, what option did he have?

"Now," came the Yorkun's voice inside her head, "I did my part."

She sighed in resignation. They had agreed. She actually did respect the Yorkun. She still couldn't come to grips with what it was or ultimately what it intended, but she was feeling a relationship of some sort. Stockholm syndrome? Being held against her will and forming a relationship?

She uncrossed her legs and relaxed them. She dropped her arms to her side and stepped tentatively away from the corner nearer to the center of the room. Images flashed into her mind of what had happened before, but she had agreed. It had been her offer in trade. For a moment, she was the only one moving. Then it flowed toward her over the floor.

"Lie down, Melanie." And she did. "Relax, my Melanie," he urged, and she was taken again by his term of apparent endearment, 'my Melanie'. It did ease her somewhat, and she continued to wonder if that should be a problem to her. If she wasn't at the mercy of the man, she certainly was to the Yorkun. "You did enjoy the pleasure before."

She wasn't ready to admit it, but she had felt what those pleasures she wished for had been like. Overpowering, really. That in itself caused her concern and trepidation. She lay on the floor, and again was surprised that the stone wasn't cold. She shut her eyes tightly as the Yorkun approached her, flowing to her slightly parted feet, over them and her legs to her hips and along her stomach, over her breasts, and finally stopping at her neck. She breathed deeply, already quickened with anticipation and anxiety, but also ... she remembered the explosion of sensations she experienced.

The first new feelings were a rippling of the Yorkun over her pelvis and a squeezing of her nipples and breasts. She sighed, and a small moan reluctantly escaped her throat. How did it do what it did? How was it teasing and rolling and pulling on her nipples? How was it moving in a soft, stroking way over her pelvis that caused her to unconsciously part her thighs further? How did it shift its shapely, liquid form to softly caress her pussy and tease her clit like her nipples?

"Oh ... God ... yesssss," she gasped in her mind. "What is happening ... to me that I ... yesssss ... so goooodddd ..."

Then, it happened again. The Yorkun took hold of her feet and pulled them up while it also wrapped around her knees and pressed them back toward her head to the sides as her hands were secured at her knees so her calves pressed against her thighs and wrapped together. All the while, her pussy and nipples were stimulated as her hips rose by the result of her knees being pulled back alongside her head, the Yorkun covering her body. She was so exposed except that she was covered by the Yorkun, but that was the thing, wasn't it? The Yorkun had her in such an exposed and vulnerable and available position.

She waited for what was next. She was gasping and panting. Her anticipation overrode the anxiety she had felt before. What was it going to do to her this time?

"Please," she uttered breathlessly, "please, Yorkun, be gentle with me. This ... this is all so ... so new to me."

The Yorkun didn't respond. Instead, it began. She looked down her body toward her raised hips covered by the Yorkun spread between her thighs and over her pelvis and ass. She watched as she saw the Yorkun shape rise directly over her pussy. She watched and gasped while wondering if her expectation and anticipation might be more than what it was about to do. She watched as the sharp hump rose above her upturned pelvis. She watched with increasing anticipation, and she saw the hump slowly move toward her pelvis, and as it did, she felt it parting her pussy and entering her, slowly and steadily. It wasn't a press inside, pull back, and thrust more. It just moved in, and in and in, and as it moved in, it thickened. It went in deeper and deeper, and all the while becoming thicker and thicker until it seemed to fill her and stretch her pussy that she felt so full.

Then, it pulled back, but not all the way before it thrust back inside powerfully. Back and forth, back and in, powerfully and faster. And her clit, still somehow being teased while another part of the Yorkun was fucking her, and another part teasing her nipples.

"OH ... FUCK ... YESSSSSS!" she cried out between gasps and moans. "OH ... MY GOD ... OH GOD ... OH YESSSS ... I can't ... ooooooohhh ... yesssss ..."

It felt so thick and deep inside her that she might be totally consumed by the sensations. Then, all the pleasure and stimulation and focus she had on her pussy, clit, and nipples was intruded upon. She hadn't watched, or she might have seen a similar rise forming by the Yorkun somewhere over her upturned asshole. When it penetrated her asshole as just a narrow object, it passed through the sphincter and continued into her ass deeper. As it did, though, like the one in her pussy, it too thickened and continued in. When it felt to her that it would enter her bowels, it pulled back like the one in her pussy had.

"Oh no ... no, no, no," she gasped and protested, but it was all too late, and to no avail. She was double penetrated and being fucked powerfully in both holes. She looked with wide eyes down her body covered by the Yorkun with small undulations over her nipples and two spots where the Yorkun was pumping up and down, into her and back, and into her pussy and asshole. Her head fell back to the floor, long moans and gasps escaping her open, gaping mouth. Everything else was an eerie quiet but for her moaning and gasping and panting. Not a sound generated by the Yorkun fucking her, not even a mental sound from it.

Melanie erupted in orgasm, the most powerful of her inexperienced life. Even her sounds stopped as her body and mind convulsed under the onslaught of the Yorkun in her holes. Yet, it continued. She felt something new in her pussy and asshole as the fucking continued. Was the Yorkun climaxing, too? Was the Yorkun filling her with cum, seed, whatever it had? If she recovered, it was slightly as another orgasm rose within her. Over and over, orgasm after orgasm. Her eyes rolled back into her head; she lost sight but was still conscious, her holes being fucked.

She might not even have felt the last orgasm crash over her as her body and mind gave out. Even unconscious, even after the Yorkun had retreated from her holes and her body, releasing her legs to splay on the stone floor, she continued to convulse, shake, and twitch in orgasmic overload.

The Yorkun retreated to a position ten feet away in a shimmering, pulsing form about four feet tall. It would have appeared even the Yorkun's recovery was a struggle.

* * * *

Melanie's recovery was slow. As she began to be aware, she was sprawled on the stone floor. Where else? She didn't curl into a fetal position, though. She was on her back, her arms spread to the sides, her legs splayed open, her breathing and body calm, except for the tingling she continued to feel inside her pussy and asshole as if she continued to feel micro-orgasmic reactions.

She propped herself on her elbows to look around. She immediately found the Yorkun before her, about ten feet away, and formed tall, not as a puddle, but still it was relatively formless. Her eyes glanced to the ceiling corner and were satisfied that the camera was, indeed, missing and on the floor at the base of the wall. At least the man hadn't witnessed it.

She raised herself a bit more to look between her parted thighs. There was a large puddle of some kind of fluid on the floor under her ass. Her eyes went wide and gazed at the Yorkun. "My pussy is bald," she exclaimed in amazement, but with a soft chuckle. It even occurred to her how casual her reaction was, and that she hadn't pulled herself tightly together in modesty or protection.

"I found that reference in your mind. It seemed to be something you associated with these experiences. I removed it all for you. It won't come back. Was I wrong?"

Melanie noted the change; it was seeking her response to its action, but she knew it already knew the answer since it had been in her mind to begin with. All that research on the internet about porn and sexual experiences she had been so curious about. She smiled, curious no more.

"Yorkun, what you did to me ... I thought my body might explode apart; it was so powerful."

"It is universal, Melanie. Many other species experience similar things."

"I yielded to you as agreed. Can you get me out of here now?" Melanie suggested, but didn't have high expectations.

"That was only for the removal of the camera, my Melanie. I have much to still learn."

She dropped her body back onto the floor in resignation. It was what she expected. How much more could any woman handle, though? Almost absently, she asked, "Yorkun, do you know how long I have been in this room with you?"

"Your concept of time has no relevance to me, my Melanie. I don't think in terms of time, only performance, action, and results. Why is it important?"

"I am puzzled. It seems I have been with you in this room for a long time. I have expended a considerable amount of energy while being fucked. I have been sweating and produced significant orgasmic juices. I have breathed heavily in exertion. Yet, despite all that, I don't feel thirsty or hungry. I should be needing to replace fluids and calories through food."

"Not to worry, my Melanie. I also discovered those needs of yours, and I am replacing all the nutrients and fluids your organism requires to thrive. I think you will find positive effects for your organism over time."

"Over time, Yorkun? You intend to keep me? Is that why you have begun to refer to me as 'my Melanie'?" she inquired almost too casually for the implication it presented.

"I have much to learn, still. It seems I may be breaking the basic rule of investigation, however."

She giggled in her mind, "Not to anticipate the results." She raised back up onto her elbows to look at the raised, indistinct form of the Yorkun. She knew the answer before she transmitted the question to it. "What more is there to learn, Yorkun? Haven't you seen my responses enough?"

"Not nearly enough, my Melanie. No, there is much more I intend to discover, validate, and test. You are very highly responsive to these experiences, but there is also the issue of endurance and capacity for experience."

"You have something in mind for me, don't you?"

"If my findings confirm my expectations, yes."

She laughed out loud. Her own sound startled her, and that reaction produced another laugh. She understood she was going to be fucked quite a lot. "Be careful, Yorkun, not to prejudice your investigation results."

The raised form moved towards her even as she heard its laugh come back to her in her mind. She watched and saw as it approached, as a protrusion formed in front of it, a long, thick form.

"Hands and knees, Melanie," was its simple instruction. Undoubtedly, another experience he took from her mind. She tried to think of how much porn she had studied in her quest for what she was missing in experiences. She sighed deeply. A very large amount, she knew.

She felt the Yorkun form over her back, flow around to encase her breasts, her nipples again stimulated. Its form flowed around her stomach to stimulate her clit. And, that long, thick form ... suddenly was thrust into her already very used pussy. She gasped at the penetration ... and her moan was long and deep. Her pussy was so full and filled so deep. Her mind immediately only knew the pleasure.