"Man that was hard work. We'll need more than just us five when we've got to wrestle the female down next time Chrissie. Book another five lab techs ok?"
"Sure Frank. I've already got ten or so security guys lined up to get the male back in to his enclosure once the experiment is complete. Will you ring the Security Office and have them double the number of guys, and have ten fresh guys ready to put the female back away after?" the Laboratory Supervisor asked, pulling her mussed portions of her long blonde hair out of her face and flicking it down her back.
"No worries boss." Frank nodded, performing one last check of the latch release, making sure it would open the door between the test lab and the female's enclosure when triggered. "All O.K. here." Standing, he turned to his supervisor and asked, "You ready?"
"Gutsy move, to do this by yourself."
"Maybe." Chrissie paused, examining the rip the female had left in her lab coat, before discarding it on the lab floor, near the staff exit. She expected to need it once the experiment was over.
"It's like my Pa used to say Frank, you can't ask others to do that which you wouldn't do yourself."
Frank looked the Lab Supervisor up and down. Taking the coat off, she'd revealed her stylish daywear, a pale, almost white, skin-tight strapless tube top above a matching wrap-around mini skirt. He could tell Chrissie wasn't wearing a bra, and he was turned on by both the shape her full breasts made in the thin top, as well as by the sight of her long legs.
He realized that she was a lot fitter than most women, going by how flat her belly was, from where it was revealed between the top of the low sitting skirt, and the bottom of the tube top. ‘Perhaps stylish isn’t the right word,’ he thought, ‘she’s really dressed for a night at a rave.’
Frank had loved watching Chrissie’s legs when she walked through the office, especially when she leant over Carl's desk, directly in front of his own. Frank eagerly admitted to his friends that he loved Chrissie's legs, especially when she wore the tall heels that stretched her legs visually, and he was really glad she had a pair on that matched the short skirt and tiny top today.
"Like what you see?" Chrissie asked, adding "Don't be embarrassed Frank, I'm an exhibitionist by nature, I like it when men look at me with lust in their eyes."
Momentarily taken aback, both by being caught staring and Chrissie's admission, Frank just nodded, noting as he smiled, that Chrissie's nipples had stiffened and were stretching her top in a new direction. As he watched them, he also realized that the colour of her nipples was shading the colour of the top.
"My, aren't you aroused?" his supervisor added, taking a step forward to leave no more than a few inches of air between them. Reaching up, she placed on hand on his cheek and added, "Good. I'm glad I turn you on, especially as you're the one monitoring the experiment on the Closed Circuit TV. That way, I'll know someone who'll be concerned with my well being will be riding the male's 'Kill' button."
"Umm, er, yeah, sure Chrissie," Frank replied, trying desperately to ignore the rapidly hardening organ in his pants.
"Now, you want to double check the restraint system for me?"
"Already did, all operating within your revised specs," he answered, nodding over her shoulder to the alloy framework that looked more like it should be in a Dungeon than a high tech lab.
All of the lab techs called it the 'rape chair', rather then its real name: the Dendra's 3000 Restraint & Impregnation Support System. Standing on a swivel base, was a hydraulically controlled arm, that allowed the 'X' shaped top panel to be raised and tilted at any angle, to position the subject held in the restraints in any way required for the experiments carried out in the laboratory.
It wasn't really a true 'X' in shape, as the top two arms were separated from the lower pair by a backboard that was long enough to also support the head of any experiment’s subject. Each of the four arms that made up the main X shape had a sprung loaded clasp at its end, designed to be triggered to close when a wrist or ankle was placed inside.
Each of the clasps had a small slot in the arms that they could be slid along in; Chrissie had taken the time to set them the night before, as she had done with the larger waist clasp, and the upper throat clasp.
All four arms had a pivot point built in where they meet the back board, and the top two had a further pivot at about their mid point, roughly equal to the position of a subjects elbow.
Stepping away from Frank, Chrissie bent from the waist to search her lab coat for the chair's remote control, her short skirt lifting at the rear, exposing just the hint of her white cotton-tail panties to her junior. The hardness in Frank's pants was even clearer to her sight once she finished rummaging through the coat pockets, and stood back up.
"Time to clear out the rest of the crew, send 'em to lunch Frank," she said, using the remote to shift the chair so it would face the pit the male's crate was inside. Finally she set it to automatically follow her movement, so it would always stay facing her as she moved around the lab.
At the same time, Frank keyed open the channel on his radio and told the guys to leave, and be ready to return in exactly two hours time. When he saw the last of them leave, he turned back to Chrissie and asked, "Anything else?"
"Yeah, look after this stuff for me," she answered, handing him her earrings, necklace and watch, before kicking off her heels, and unclipping her security badge from the waist band of the wrap skirt, where the badge had been covering the small clasp that held the light weight skirt up.
With a big gulp, Frank asked "What about your clothes?"
"I'll keep 'em on, after all, all we've been doing so far is telling the volunteer breeders what to expect and then getting them to climb on to the chair and wait for the T.M. to mate with them in its own fashion. If we're going to solve this damn access issue, and actually get to where we can breed a hybrid, then we need to fully simulate the conditions in the breeding chambers."
"And the remote?"
"Here, It's all set, time to get yourself out of here to."
"Right-o." Frank gave her a cheesy smile and another quick once up and down, before turning to the door. "Um, boss?" he asked, turning back around, "You sure you want to go through with this?"
"Can you tell me how else to get the data we need?"
"Then yeah, I gotta do this. The whole project depends on us Frank, we need the Hybrid Warrior program to be successful by the end of the year if we're gonna stop the invasion."
"Yeah, still, your one gutsy woman Chrissie."
Both smiled again, and then as Frank began to walk away, Chrissie had an idea. Waiting till he was about to pull the door lab door closed, she called out "How about dinner, once I've recovered?"
"Sure, but only if you promise to wear that micro dress you wore on Monday," Frank answered, his face brightening considerably.
"Sure, if you wear a suit for me, and give me time to heal from this," she said, waving a hand towards the crate in the pit.
"No problems Chrissie. Good luck" he replied, pulling the solid steel door closed and spinning the wheel that locked the six securing shafts in to the thick wall of the lab. He gave her the all clear once he was seated in the control and monitoring room and waited for her to begin the experiment.
Chrissie let out a relief-filled sigh, both at his positive answer, and to let out as much of her nervousness as possible; she needed to be calm to describe the process she was about to go through. Sticking one of her fingers in her mouth she checked the MolarMic was secure, counting 'test, one, two' and getting a wave from Frank.
She watched as he reached behind himself to start all the video, audio and telemetry recorders running before she put on her best announcers voice and said "Hybrid Breeding Program, Experiment 12. Conditions required for the sexual access of a human female by a Class 3, T.M. male. Lab Supervisor, Chrissie Baker. Subject, Chrissie Baker."
'Bet that gets the scientific press' attention,' Chrissie thought gleefully. 'If this works, I'll get the Nobel Prize.'
She let out a second sigh, calming herself before she walked over to the edge of the crate pit. Hesitating for a second, she judged the distance to the large crate inside, whose lid was at the same height as the Lab floor, before she delicately jumped across on to the top of the crate.
For a few moments Chrissie danced around on the roof of the crate, until the male inside's deep growl told her he was awake, and that he could probably smell her by now. Chrissie had soaked her panties in the residue from the females’ pheromone spray for the last week, to make sure the male would be able to sense her presence.
Looking down she took the time to read the safety label that caused so much laughter when the crate had first been delivered by the United Space Navy’s Acquisition Marines.
Some of the younger girls in the lab had giggled at the sight of the warning label, and most of the young males had openly laughed and made comments about which one of the girls they'd love to see take a tentacle like the one on the label.
All the comments had stopped when they'd watched the footage from the first of the breeding experiments, especially as they had finally realized just how big, and how dangerous a type three breeder T.M. could be.
Most of them knew of the main types of T.M.'s, that the type 1's were the smallest, and far smarter than the average human. That the type 2's were the massive warrior class ones that were armoured and could reach their tentacles out between spaceships, to tear open the United Space Navy's ships and wipe out the crews. They even knew that the type three's were larger than the type 1's, but far smaller than the type 2's, but none had realized the three's were still twice the mass of a horse, and still easily able to tear a person apart.
Since that first experiment, and the five more that made up the six fatalities before Chrissie had been promoted to oversee the program, the office had been substantially more subdued.
Chrissie had implemented the 'Kill' switch, which didn't really kill the type 3 they used for the experiments. The device was actually an implant that scrambled the brainwaves of the T.M., rendering it instantly unconscious, allowing her to safely send her lab techs in to the room she now occupied.
She'd elected to use the captured female type 3 as bait to make the male leave the main lab room once she'd figured out why the attempts at intercourse had failed, rather than having Frank use the implant, and risk having the T.M. collapse on top of her.
Chrissie had a brief moment of nervousness, remembering the footage of the first test volunteer, as she had been brutally impaled and torn apart by the male in his sexual frenzy. It was no wonder the species only needed the type 3's to populate with, part of the research her team had done before they started their current trials had proven that.
'It's such a shame In Vitro doesn't work with their species,' she thought. They'd had five more tries at getting one of the volunteer breeders to mate with the T.M. with no success. Each time they'd had to hit the kill switch as the type 3 went in to rage at not being able to consummate it's mating need.
And it wasn't if they had any trouble getting volunteers, not with the waves of attacking T.M.'s having already wiped out more than half the male human population. Chrissie had one computer's hard drive completely full of the details of women willing to take part in the program. She even had the law to call on, ever since the Emergency Military Government had given her the power to simply take as many women off the street at random to breed the hybrid soldiers they needed to win the war with.
'If it hadn't been for that freak on Mars, we woulda never thought of a hybrid program, good thing it turned out more human than not' she mused, kneeling down as she got ready to remove the lock pin.
The T.M. inside the crate was quiet as he watched her reach for the pin, it seemed to Chrissie that the only sound in the whole universe was the beat of her heart, until the ringing of the pin bouncing on the pit floor shattered the deathly quiet.
Chrissie had practiced her run from the top of the crate at home, making sure she could sprint across the upper surface and jump the short distance to the lab floor proper, so she was off and running even before the pin hit the floor. She was in mid-flight when the T.M. heaved itself against the crate door, smashing the metal panel hard against the wall on the far side of the lab with the full force of its mating crazed body.
She only just managed to land and turn to face the alien as it hauled it's bulk up out of the pit, catching sight of the young scientist instantly, and beginning to advance on her as she side stepped to get the chair behind herself.
"Two items of note," she said in to the MolarMic. "Firstly, it may not have been such a good idea for the world’s leading T.M. breeding specialist to leave herself alone in the breeding lab with a type three male, while wearing panties soaked in female type three's pheromones."
"Secondly, we've gotta come up with a better name for these aliens then just Tentacle Monsters, it really doesn't do justice to the amount of fear they generate."
As smart and determined as she was, Chrissie couldn't help but scream as the type three Tentacle Monster wrapped one of its massive long manipulator tentacles around her waist, holding her still as it brought a second manipulator into play. Quickly and efficiently it slipped it in underneath her top, using the gap made by her cleavage between her tube top and her breasts to gain access, before literally tearing the tight garment apart as it whipped the tentacle away.
Frank watched on almost gleefully as her breasts were exposed to the lab's cameras. He'd wanted to see Chrissie naked for a long time, and was clearly impressed by what he saw. "Beautiful..." he whispered, zooming a camera on to her breasts just as the tentacle quickly pulled the garment away, leaving what was left of it fluttering towards the lab wall.
"Little more than a C-cup, and really firm," he observed, his word being picked up by the booth mic and recorded on a separate channel to Chrissie's notation, leaving two channels free for the ambient sound from the lab, and the instrument warning sounds.
Chrissie was just as proud of her breasts as she was about her whole body, but for the first time in her life found herself wishing they weren't so large as she was shaken about by the beast holding her, and they shook uncomfortably across her chest. They kept swaying and bouncing sharply until the alien had her in the position he wanted, and sent his second tentacle toward her skirt.
The loose fitting wrap fell away almost by itself as the tentacle investigated the clasp, dropping to the floor, ignored by the alien even before it stopped moving.
"The type three seems to be learning how to efficiently strip a human woman," Chrissie reported, the scientist part of her staying detached as she watched the tentacle search for the top edge of her panties. "It has clearly developed some knowledge of the garments we wear, and the best way to remove them, compare the method it used to remove my tube top to that of the T-shirt worn by Subject eleven."
A detached smile crossed her face for the briefest moment as she caught sight of the view on one of the recording monitors on the back wall of the control room. Frank had shifted the zoomed in camera down her body to the clasp as the tentacle had roughly manipulated it, later to be realized as an effort to rip the clasp away, rather than to undo it.
Now as Chrissie watched, the camera followed the manipulator's tip as it sought out the top edge of her panties, and begun to force its way inside them. The volume of tentacle that followed was more than enough to rip the thin cotton and force it from her, leaving the beautiful scientist naked.
Frank gulped at the sight of his young boss' clean-shaved pussy, almost forgetting to make any relevant comments or the scripted ones Chrissie had left for him. "The sheen you see on Dr. Baker's skin at this point is a mixture of her own sweat, no doubt due to the high levels of anxiety she is currently experiencing, and the captured pheromone spray the recently removed garment was soaked with."
"Dr Baker theorized, that by having worn the scent of a female type three in its mating rapture close to her own skin for the past six hours, the pheromones left behind would aid in the controlling and directing the male's attention. She hoped this would in turn allow a greater period of time before any use of the implanted 'Kill' switch was needed."
"Following on from the males observed behaviour, it should now withdraw its manipulator tentacles, using them and the three that have not yet been seen by the cameras to hold itself upright, before presenting her with its five mating tentacles."
"During this moment, Dr. Baker will move herself onto the Dendra's 3000 unit fitted in to the Breeding Laboratory, which will restrain her in the manner planned for all Hybrid Breeding Program volunteers and conscripts."
"This unit is identical to the specifications issued by the Army for this program. It was hoped that by waiting until the Alien had removed her clothes before being restrained, that more of the type three would be clear of the pit, and that it would have better vision of the experiment's subject before trying to consummate any breeding attempt."
In the lab, Chrissie waited as she felt the manipulator's slowly slide from her body. It was as much her own instinct as the simulation plan in her head that guided her backwards toward the waiting chair. She wasn't sure which feeling was stronger as she felt the waist restraint snap in place: that of relief that she had completed the maneuver successfully, of fear that she was now held bound in place for the Alien to rape.
Turing her head to the left, she looked to position her left wrist in it's binding, before doing the same for the right wrist. Carefully she lifted one foot off the ground, waiting for the binding to snap around it before she did the other.
Finally she dared to lay her head against the backboard, sucking in her breath sharply as the last binding snapped in to place around her slender throat. "I've successfully climbed onto the Dendra's unit, and am now restrained identically to the manner in which all of the previous test subject's have been."
Frank directed the camera to all of the restraints in turn, before switching the main tape to an overview shot from the roof camera. He quickly busied himself with positioning several of the cameras according to the plan Chrissie and he had developed from watching the tapes of the pervious experiments many times.
First he zoomed one in on her sex, close enough to show no more than ten centimeters of her thighs, hips and belly around her exposed pussy. Next came the face camera, then one on her breasts, another showing her spread out figure from hands to feet, and finally one he was to use to follow anything Chrissie directed him to in her narration of what she felt and observed.
Then he activated the tracking cams, each of which was tied in to transponders they had stuck under the skin of each reproductive tentacle the last time the type 3 was rendered unconscious. They would automatically follow the movements of the large phallus's that made up the end of each tentacle.
Chrissie registered the movement of the cameras and knew her naked body was now being recorded, when a sly thought passed from the exhibitionistic part of her mind in to conscious thought. 'If I succeed, those tapes will probably find there way in to public domain as some sort of porno', and if I fail, they'll end up being some sort of freaky epitaph.’
'Won't be the first time I've been seen naked on tape,' she mused, remembering how she danced on tables to pay her way through college. Then there was her appearance's dancing and stripping on some very male oriented PBS shows, and her appearance as 'naked corpse number three' on a popular criminal investigation show.
Looking back up to what she expected to be five approaching tentacles, Chrissie let out a single low word to describe what she saw before her.
Frank was still fine tuning the camera when he heard his boss's guttural utterance and looked up at the main monitor. The main camera clearly showed the for the first time, the type three had lifted its entire body free of the crate and pit, and had slowly been approaching the young woman restrained in the center of the lab.
Chrissie suddenly felt naked in ways that had nothing to do with wearing nothing.
"The type three has pulled its entire, and quite considerable mass clear of the staging pit, and is now approaching me in what I can only guess is a wary manner for it's species. My first thoughts in response to its action are that this change in its behaviour may be linked to my hips being coated in the scent of a sexually aroused type three female."
"I can clearly see that both of its primary eyes are focused on me, and that the secondary pair are scanning the lab, possibly in search of any danger to itself."
Drawing her breath in, Chrissie waited as the beast closed the distance between them, her ears slowly filling with the sound of its deep breaths, as much as her nose was filled with the foul scent of each windy exhale. The stench was overpowering by the time its body stood in front of the chair, and it uncoiled the five tentacles that ended with its sexual organs.
On the monitors in the control room, Frank watched as the snake-like limbs seemed to flow out towards Chrissie's body. He could clearly signs of arousal on both participants of the experiment. Chrissie's nipples were rock hard, standing proud of her firm breasts as a pair of tentacles began to massage her whole upper body. The Alien’s phalluses were slowly dripping with the ooze of it's reproductive fluids, leaving trails down her legs as two more explored them, and the last one zeroed in on her sex.
Frank smiled as he spotted a little of Chrissie's own juices escaping, "Not gonna have any problem getting her lubed up," he mumbled, then cursed and hoped the words hadn't been recorded. He'd just have to edit them out later if they had.
"While I'm scared at the thought of having any of those things inside of me, for the sake of science, I have to admit I am aroused by the thought of having so massive a penis penetrate my body," Chrissie narrated. "The fluid oozing from the type three on to my skin seems slippery at first, yet I can feel my skin being pulled tight, perhaps contact with the air causes a change in the viscosity of what I can only describe as alien pre-cum."
Chrissie moaned as one of the phalluses began to rub up and down at the entrance to her pussy, pushing her vaginal lips and her clitoral hood around. Soon the ooze left behind had stuck the fleshy hood and puffy pink lips outwards, almost like they were glued to her skin, and left her with the hard little nub, and the entrance to her own reproductive organs exposed.
"From its actions, I feel I can only deduce that the alien has learned from our previous experiments, and is able to identify the reproductive and erogenous zones of a female human body."
"Ooof," she added as the alien cock waiting at her entrance butted in to her pussy with some force.
"Ooof. That's quite forceful," she reported as it tried again, before returning to rubbing across her wide open slit.
Tilting her head as far forward as possible, she watched the tentacle shift about between her thighs as the beast tried to work it inside the scientist. Out of the corner of her eye she also saw the two cocks that had been drooling on her legs were moving further up her body, and then out along her hands.
With a sudden inspiration, she grabbed at them when they passed over her hands, rewarded with both a sudden look and growl from the alien, as well as two handfuls of oversized penises. Looking the monster in the eye, Chrissie began stroking her hands back and forth along the cocks as far as she could with her wrists bound to the breeding chair.
"From the noise it's making, I'd say the type three is enjoying Dr. Baker's ministrations," Frank commented into his mic. "Her tell-tales also show a high level of arousal. It's difficult to tell whether this is motivated sexually, or by the fear she is likely to be experiencing."
Chrissie let out another loud "Ooof" as the type three tried again to force one cock inside her, and Frank begin to worry as its posture was clearly swinging from showing it's arousal to that of frustration.
"Frank, what angle is the type three trying to approach my vagina at?" Chrissie asked, watching one of the penises that had been rolling and massaging her breast start to slide its way towards her face. 'Oh, no...' she thought.
"It's coming in at a somewhat raised angle, try shifting your hips so your pubic bone is raised a little higher."
"What about the chair. Are my legs as wide as it will hold them?"
Chrissie looked at the cock that was now pointing at her mouth and swaying slightly, as if the alien was waiting for the right moment to shove it in to her face.
"Open them wider then."
As the hydralics whined beneath her, and Chrissie's legs were slowly pulled wide open, she narrated her thoughts to the recorders. "One thing that the type three is not going to know is how far spread open a woman needs to be to accept a cock of this size, and the angle at which to approach from."
"Thanks Frank, that's far enough I think," Chrissie called out, as she went from being merely uncomfortable to feeling pain. Clenching her gut and buttock muscles, she did her best to raise her pussy to an angle that might be more accommodating.
Seeing the movement, the alien stopped trying to fill her mouth, and resumed trying to shove one massive cock up her cunt. Several times it pushed at her heavily exposed sex, making disgruntled noises that matched Chrissie's own grunts. The two penises she held flexed about, and the one at her breasts slapped against the fleshy mounds with a resounding splat sound as it own precome stuck to her skin, and was followed by a loud yelp from the restrained woman as the pain of the impact bruised her breasts.
Clearly the beast was getting frustrated, and Frank's hand absently fingered the exposed kill switch as he watched for any overtly aggressive behavior.
"Frank, I got an idea. It's clear it can't access my pussy from the angles available. I want to try something else. Give me a little more tension on the clasps around my neck and gut, then when I say, undo the clasps at my ankles, and roll the chair back so it's about twenty degrees past horizontal."
"Okay," Frank replied through the P.A. speakers, noting as he did that the alien had finally been able to line up on cock with her mouth, and was now trying to force it in to the young woman.
"No more commands from Chrissie," he commented as he fed the instructions into the chair’s computer, and got it to pass them to the camera controls, so that as the table began to swing upwards, the cameras stayed on their targets. "Hope they're not too tight" he added seeing the two clasps she asked for begin to dig in to her skin.
He waited until the table stopped moving before releasing her ankles, figuring she'd have already realized he was waiting till then to do it, given she was in no position to complain with her head pushed hard back against the headrest by the invading cock at her mouth. Her face was covered in the sticky green ooze flowing from its tip, only to bubble out of her mouth as she struggled to open her jaw wide enough to pass the probing head in to her mouth properly.
Frank moved most of his concentration on to the sensors monitoring her vitals, ensuring she was breathing as well as possible, then sat back to watch what she would do. He hoped she was comfortable with her hips now higher than her head.
With both her hands and her mouth full of alien cocks, and another rolling about on her tits, Chrissie figured all she had to do was satisfy the cock trying to force its way inside her pussy, and she would earn the acclaim and admiration of the entire scientific community.
She heard and felt the ankle restraints open; unable to look up to her feet to check, but knowing her ankles were free when she heard Frank tell her the restraints were fully retracted. Gingerly she pulled her feet in along the leg boards, bending her legs at the knees to do so, and altering the angle her thighs were in relation to her hips, vastly increasing the access to her pussy. Eventually she stopped moving when her feet were as close to her hips as she could pull them.
Then with one final effort, she pitched her legs backward, kicking her feet up as she did, using the weight of her legs, and the angle the chair hung at to leave her with her feet hanging in the air not far above her elbows. Chrissie struggled to breathe even more now, with her body bent uncomfortably at the waist clasp, and her hips raised off the back boards surface.
Above her, the alien was momentarily wary from her sudden movement, but quickly realized that she had just opened herself up to him.
There was nothing gentle about the way his phallus pushed at her sex's opening, and Chrissie would have screamed out from the pain of being so quickly forced to stretch her insides if her mouth had not been full of alien cock and cum. As it was, she bucked around and shook bodily as the type three rapidly forced is hard member deep inside her hips, quickly filling her well past anything she thought she could take, and into the realms that only birth could stretch a woman to.
Over and over the hard shaft pounded in and out of her, its goo lubricating her insides, just as it dried and pulled painfully at her outsides. Tears flowed from her eyes as the minutes past, and she felt a continual stream of alien cum spray around her insides, before the constant stroking pumped it out on to the lab floor.
When at last the giant cock slowed and stopped, finally slipping out of her, Chrissie was relieved as much as she was pained, and figured she was not far off being famous.
Then the worst moment of her young life happened.
Slowly the cock that had been inside her slipped up along her right leg, wrapping the tentacle that followed with it as it went, securing itself to Chrissie’s long delicate leg, leaving the scientist wondering what the type three was doing.
The tentacle and penis at her breasts moved quickly down Chrissie's body, and she panicked as she realized where it was going. Her wide open sex beckoned the next phallus at its turn, and she was soon in agony again as her tired body struggled to deal with this second invasion.
Again she struggled to accommodate the giant cock as it pumped her full of more and more green sticky cum.
"I guess she's got three more to go," Frank narrated at about the same time as Chrissie realized what she was in for.
To be brutally honest, he was enjoying watching his beautiful workmate getting her pussy screwed violently by the giant cocks. Deep inside the animal part of his brain, he knew it meant she could handle anything he was able to dish out, and he wanted desperately to hold her down on the floor of his apartment and take her at his pleasure.
The cock in her left hand extracted itself from her grip and moved to take its turn inside her as the second one wound itself around her left leg, and acted in unison with its partner to hold her wide open.
As this new invasion started, Frank check the vital tell-tales, and decided to slacken off the throat clasp to make her breathing easier. Once satisfied, he returned to watching her breasts violently shake up and down her chest as her body was pounded over and over, held in place by the tight waist clasp.
Frank watched in amazement at the size of the pool of cum forming around the Dendra's 3000. By the time Chrissie received the contents of the fourth cock, the overspray covered most of her legs and body, and was dripping down past her back, through her lovely hair and falling like a slow waterfall from the headrest. He reckoned that there was as much as 30 or 40 litres of the green goo spread about.
As the final cock started its move from her face to her ravaged pussy, Frank noticed something off near the edge of one of the monitors. Overriding one of the cameras, he directed it to where the skin colour at the base of this last tentacle was beginning to change colour.
Ignoring Chrissie’s wail as she was invaded for the last time, he kept the camera on the colour change as it slowly began to flow down the tentacle in fits and starts. Frank realized that each pulsation that filled Chrissie with cum matched the movement of the colour change.
"As you note the colour spreading up the tentacle, I'd like to draw you attention to the extra pressure on each squirt of cum, both as it fills Dr. Baker, and as it sprays out of her. Before it was if it had the force of a water pistol squirt as it left her body, now it looks more like the rush from a champagne bottle, with quite an eruption to match each incoming flow of the alien's cum."
"I propose that it is this final tentacle that carries the actual sperm, and that the previous four tentacles were 'loaded' only with the fluid need to lubricate the inside of a type 3 female."
"As you can hear from Dr. Chrissie Baker's screams, accepting all five alien phalluses has been a considerable effort. This leaves me to wonder at the strength of the woman on Mars who endured all of this and the birth of the first hybrid without the benefit of controlled conditions of a lab, and the reassurance of a colleague with a 'kill' switch for the Alien that raped her."
Chrissie's cries reached a crescendo as the colour change finally reached the cock at the tentacles end. Then there was silence as she registered the impact of a hard spiky shape against the wall of her cervix, and a brand new pain, as the last phallus slid from her stretched and dripping pussy.
"And so ends the experiment," Frank announced, watching as the five tentacles slowly unwound from the woman's body in the lab, before he hit the kill switch, making sure the alien was immobilized before he hit the emergency open button. Swinging himself in to the lab, he was met by the rest of the Laboratory staff, and their stunned faces as they took in the sight of Chrissie's naked and cum covered body on the Dendra's chair.
Twenty four hours later, Chrissie was just waking up from the painkillers that flooded her ravaged young body, hearing a doctors voice say, "We can't remove it without the risk of killing her, and definitely killing it. Congratulations Frank, you two have proved Hybrids can be bred. We might just win this war after all."
Chrissie's moan attracted Franks notice as the doctor left, "It's okay Boss, but I'm afraid that Nobel Prize is at least nine months away."