When LT Stewart Peter Bate woke up to the sound of low, soft murmurs, his first thought was that he was back at home in bed, snuggled up with his darling Erica. But his lovely Erica—from a good family, maybe a little too prim and proper for her own good—had never sounded so wanton… so in need, sexually.
The bed Bate was lying in was also soft, too soft. Soft, squishy and moist. He couldn’t move his limbs either. They felt weighted down and tangled up as if some kind of monstrous python was coiled around each limb. And the smell…
“Mmm, you’re awake.”
Bate opened his eyes. He was lying on, or in, some kind of nightmare. Raw, oozing flesh squirmed all around him. Fleshy tubes, pinkish-white in color, surrounded and entangled his limbs like a nest of peeled snakes. Rising above it all and straddling Bate at the waist was the monster woman.
She had the body of a nude pinup, or maybe even one of those ridiculously busty anime girls made flesh. Both her bust and hips were pronounced and curvy, but there was not a trace of excess fat anywhere else on her body.
She was also clearly a monster. Her skin was the wrong shade of pink—pallid, sickly, like squirming invertebrates—and covered in a wet sheen of slime. She had no hair. Instead, a mass of tubular tentacles cascaded over her shoulders. Each terminated in a blind maw. Similar openings were present on the side of her neck, just below her pointed ears. They contracted and dilated as if she was breathing through them. Her face was pretty enough—finely sculpted, with luscious full lips—if you ignored her eyes. They were yellow and had vertical barbell-shaped pupils like those of an octopus.
He was still in H-space, Bate realized.
And in the clutches of one of the hindigs.
“Mmm, such a nice body,” the hindig straddling him said.
She kept making slutty mmm-ing sounds as she caressed his exposed chest with her hand. It felt as warm and as soft as a loving woman’s hand. The trail of slime it left on Bate’s skin, less so.
Bate struggled. The thick muscular bonds coiled around his limbs, that he’d first taken for snakes until he’d realized they were too soft… too squishy, pulled tighter and tighter until Bate could barely move at all.
“Don’t do that,” the woman that looked like raw shellfish said. Her plump lips bunched up in an insouciant pout. “My flesh is soft and delicate.”
What did she mean—her flesh? Was all this part of her body? In the dim light he could see she was straddling him, but he couldn’t see any legs, or even where her body ended and the fleshy mass he was lying in began.
Where was he? He felt enclosed. Looking up he saw some kind of ceiling, so low down it was just above the hindig’s head. It was inlaid with what looked like mother-of-pearl, but wrong in some fashion Bate couldn’t quite put his finger on, only that it gave him a queasy feeling in the bottom of his guts. He saw that the ceiling curved around on either side so that both of them appeared to be inside some kind of pod or shell. The dim light was provided by glowing bulbs on the end of tubular stalks. They looked organic in nature.
Bate continued to flex against his bonds. What he lay in had a similar rubbery strength and texture to viscera. Or maybe octopi; he remembered some he’d caught while diving. Maybe it was part of her. Maybe it was her internals. Maybe it was delicate. Maybe he could hurt her.
He gripped and twisted and tugged whatever he could close his hands around.
The only moans the hindig let out were sexual in nature. She gave a low chuckle.
Delicate, my ass! Bate thought. Her flesh might have felt soft and squishy, but he couldn’t rip or tear it at all.
The hindig laughed at his efforts. “You squirm so much. It’s ticklish.”
Bate had never felt so helpless.
“What do you want?” he demanded.
“Not much, just a little information,” the monster girl replied. Her yellow eyes were bright in the gloom.
“Fuck off,” Bate said.
“Oh, you will give it me,” she said. “It’s just a case of getting you in the right mood.”
Squirming motion started up all around Bate. He tried to turn his head, and when that motion was denied him, flicked his eyes to the left and right. Dripping with slime, pink tubes rose up out of the wriggling mass of flesh. Incongruously, each terminated in part of a human face. Only part. The top of the head, from the nose upwards had been neatly sliced off, leaving behind only mouths lined with full, feminine lips. Despite missing everything else, the lips still turned up in sultry knowing smiles, still pouted as if to kiss, still whispered lewd suggestions to Bate.
“wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup,” Bate muttered over and over like a mantra.
This coffin of squirming horrors couldn’t be real. It had to be a nightmare.
“Why would you want to wake from a dream as sweet as this,” the monster girl whispered.
The disenfaced mouths dipped down on Bate’s body. He felt their soft lips brush and sigh against his exposed flesh. He felt stiff little tongues flicking his nipples. He even felt one wriggle underneath him and use its tongue to probe around the sensitive rim of his anus.
Two mouths reared up on either side of Bate’s head. They puckered full red lips and exhaled clouds of perfumed smoke into his face. Bate tried holding his breath. It was useless. They were in a contained space; the gas—whatever it was—wasn’t going anywhere. He had to take a breath sometime, and when he did it was laced with the drugged gas.
The effect was immediate. Bate felt a pleasant tingling all over. His vision went fuzzy… soft focus. Like one of those old softcore movies where they used to smear Vaseline on the lens.
The form of the monstrous woman straddling him blurred and shifted. She became the busty pinup teenaged Bate had seen once in a very old skin mag and went on to become the focus of much of his carnal nighttime imaginings. Now she was sitting astride him… sitting astride his naked form.
She’d also brought friends. He felt the soft press of their lips—kissing… suckling… He felt their wet little tongues—licking… tickling… But he couldn’t see them, even the one that pressed warm lips against his and locked tongues in a passionate kiss.
He couldn’t see her because the top half of her head wasn’t there.
Bate blinked furiously.
Fantasy, don’t fall for the fantasy.
Her lips formed a seal around his mouth. The fleshy tube the faceless mouth had in place of a throat swelled and a sweet-tasting liquid was regurgitated into Bate’s mouth. He had to swallow and the fleshy tube throbbed and pulsed as more of the liquid was pumped down his throat. The drug flowed into his bloodstream and he felt warm and pleasantly tingly all over.
“Relax” the pinup astride him said. “We do not use pain to extract information here. We give our captives love and pleasure, and in turn they offer up—freely—their secrets.”
She let her weight settle on Bate’s lap. His burgeoning erection was drawn up into her and enclosed in warm quivering flesh.
He was fucking her…
…fucking this monster.
And it felt good, really good.
The soft walls of her sex undulated against his cock in slow, peristaltic waves. She added to the sensation with slow, sensual up-and-down movements of her hips.
“You’ll tell me everything, won’t you?” she asked him sweetly. She clutched and squeezed her large tits as she rose up and down on him.
No, he mustn’t.
“I’ll make you feel so good… so nice.” She finished with a low sensual moan.
Her mouth tube continued to pour drugged fluid down Bate’s throat. Other mouths blew warm scented air into his face. Others were all over his body—kissing, licking. He felt them gently sucking on his fingers and toes. One even had a stiff tongue wriggling away in his ass. He writhed helplessly in the bed of quivering meat as she stroked and licked and sucked him to higher pinnacles of ecstasy.
“You don’t have to hold back,” she whispered.
Her whole body throbbed in time to the muscular pulses squeezing Bate’s cock. The openings in her neck swelled and contracted. Her big bust rose up and down. It felt like she was putting her whole body into sucking on his member. Chest, hips, stomach—everything moving in and out as if she was taking in deep breaths… deep breaths of him.
“Just let it all out, let everything out into me.”
Her soft body flexed and Bate couldn’t hold out any longer. He came with a loud gasp.
“Yessss,” she hissed in triumph. “Give me everything.”
Bate felt his cock swell against the pressure of her walls and then the overwhelming bliss of release as he spurted his semen inside her. On and on it flowed. Her body kept working, kept throbbing, kept sucking, kept urging. Enslaved by it, Bate gave her everything.
Then, once the jangling sparkling tremors of orgasmic bliss had subsided enough for him to regain some control of his body, Bate told her everything she wanted to know.
“This is very bad, Stewart, very bad. We never thought the HSIOs had the capability or even the desire to question the men they’ve taken like this. And if they get access to one of the senior research staff here they could… No. It doesn’t bear thinking about. Command must be informed of this. Now tell me again exactly what the lieutenant told her…”
Name: Interrogatrix Shell
Description: A kind of shellfish woman. The woman part is humanoid above the waist, but far too alien to ever be mistaken for human. Their eyes are octopoidal—yellow, with vertical barbell-shaped pupils. They have long fleshy tubes in place of hair. They have a nose, but it seems purely cosmetic. Respiration is carried out through three breathing holes located on either side of their neck, just below their pointed ears.
Below the waist their body merges into a complex knot of thick rubbery tubes. Some tubes terminate in bioluminescent light sacs that light up the inside of the shell. Others terminate in strange structures that resemble part of a human face—just the mouth and jaws, the rest of the head is absent. The interrogatrix shell uses these false mouths to drive her captives into a state of sensual ecstasy.
The interrogatrix shell’s body is housed within a shell large enough to contain both her and an adult human male. Currently we do not know what the outer shell looks like as none have been found or observed in the wild. It is even possible the interrogatrix shell is some kind of mimic.
Attack Strategy: The HSIOs use interrogatrix shells to extract information and secrets from their enemies. Once a person is placed within her shell, the interrogatrix wraps her soft body around them to hold them immobile. Interrogatrix shells appear able to produce various complex drugs that have a variety of effects on human physiology, including increased sexual arousal, euphoric feelings of bliss, and a heightened susceptibility to suggestion. These drugs are administered through both mouth-to-mouth contact with one of the interrogatrix shell’s false mouths, and as an aerosol exhaled by other mouths. The closed confines of the shell enable rapid build-up of the drug in the air.
The interrogatrix also uses her false mouths to stimulate her captive’s erogenous zones by licking or sucking on them. Once the captive is sufficiently aroused the interrogatrix shell straddles their body with her upper female half and initiates sexual intercourse. Sex in this case is used to break the will of her captive through overwhelming sensual ecstasy rather than for procreation. The orgasms are amplified to the point that even strong-willed persons are enslaved by the pleasure. From this point onwards her captive will do whatever and reveal whatever the interrogatrix shell asks them. As we have never recovered anyone enslaved by an interrogatrix shell, it is unknown whether or not this enslavement of will is reversible.
Countermeasures: Don’t get caught by one…?
Really, I’m not sure what’s expected here.
We know next to nothing about this HSIO.
When I was commissioned to carry out these studies it was with the assumption I’d be documenting the various flora and fauna of H-space. At this point I think it would be a grave mistake to regard the HSIOs as just alien flora and fauna. This is an opposing enemy force. The various HSIOs are its weapons and should be documented as such.
Threat Level: Unknown.
I think we have to assume that any person captured and handed to an interrogatrix shell will reveal everything they know. God help us if they ever get hold of one of our critical command or research personnel.