Rise stumbled down the hallways of the Star of Argon, his arms pressing tightly against the walls as he felt the change of gravity. Alarms sang all around him, and his stomach lurched from the sudden falling sensation. His dangling manhood hanged toward the ceiling, as his body nearly flipped in midair. Had it not been for his previous training, he might’ve smashed his head against the ceiling.
Rise swallowed, feeling bile rise up his throat, and tried to remain calm. The sensation of his blood flow being pulled up and down was difficult to process, but he kept himself together.
All his lovers were gone, stolen by the aliens searching through the remains of the Star of Argon. He had killed several of the humanoid creatures, and was covered in dark purple gore. After three days of scrounging for supplies, he managed to find the entryway that the humanoid creatures had been coming from. He fashioned a shiv from the bone of one of the creatures, and was positioned to hurl at the door the next time it opened, when suddenly everything flipped.
Just as he caught his bearings, the power fluctuated, and a mechanical snapping sound signaled that the doorways locking mechanism had disabled.
“Lucky me,” Rise scoffed as he guided his weightless body toward the door. He tried to plant his feet along the wall, and fingered the seam of the door with his blood stained fingers. Just as he managed to opened it a few inches, however, a seething mass of tentacles exploded through. They grabbed hold of him, and he plunged his dagger into the leathery mass. They quickly struggled to pin his arm back, and the slime excreting from them sent a warm pleasure through his nerves.
Rise swore as he struggled. Had gravity been stable, he had no doubt that he would’ve killed this thing like all the others. He couldn’t help but wonder if the sudden loss of gravity was planned? If not, it was a poorly timed indeed.
Once subdued the doors opened all the way, revealing a human like creature with bushels of tentacles for arms and legs. It looked up at him with a cold stare, then its face warmed upon looking at his manhood.
Its many breasts hanged in the open air, dragged by the shifting gravity. Purplish skin glowed in the darkened corridor, as its eyes burned a fierce pinkish hue. What passed for hair, but was a mass of coils, curled over its scalp, and each were decorated in ornate silver rings.
In an eerie way, it was beautiful. Or at least, it was pleasing to the eye. Rise had a feeling those were not his natural thoughts, but encouraged emotions driven by the drugs in its slimy excretions.
“Such a feisty specimen, the mistress will be pleased.” Before he could complain, a series of jabbing appendages stabbed into her torso, and everything grew hazy and faded into darkness.
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