Alien inspection: experiment

Alien x fem!reader || humiliation (very light), degradation (very light), sex toys, overstimulation, bondage

Not in your best judgment, you find yourself walking to his door the next day. You don’t know why you are doing it, he treats you like shit most of the time, but then he shows you a hint that he cares and you melt back into his hands. His long soft hands… You sigh dreamily as someone passes and gives you a weird look. You probably look insane, a lonely human walking down the corridor of a floor without humans. You are reminded, once again, that you are the weird one in the station. There’s dozens of types of aliens and creatures in the base, and humans are the minority here. But that doesn’t stop you on your steps as you keep walking until you are right in front of his door, hope blooming inside of you.

You try to burn that hope down, you try not to think too hard about it. It means nothing, you repeat inside your head over and over. It’s just sex, you try to convince yourself. But it’s all a lie, you are hopeful, it is more than sex, and definitely means something to you. That’s why you spent an extra hour getting ready and moisturizing every single inch of your body so you are extra soft for him. He probably won’t even notice, but you still have a spark of giddiness inside of you at the thought of him realizing.

You debate with yourself if you should knock or not. You think about all the possibilities if you do, all of them if you don’t… But at the end, you knock on the door. Because you are stupid, completely and utterly stupid when anything relates to him. You shake your head trying to clear your thoughts as you knock on the door, again. This time you don’t have to wait even two seconds before he’s opening it and looking down to you with his big eyes and a stern face. You look down at your watch, checking you are not late, and bite your lip when you realize you are a couple minutes late. You’re overthinking before knocking threw your timing off. Shit.

“You are late, human,” he notes, stepping to the side to let you enter, a frown distorting his pretty alien face.

“I’m sorry, I got caught up getting ready,” you lie. You don’t want him to know that you overthought it for a long time. That you were on time, but you had to think it over and over before knocking on his door. You don’t want him to think you are any more stupid than he already thinks you are.

“There was no need, you look the same as always.” His words shouldn’t hurt as much as they do, but the fact that you brushed your hair and moisturized your body just for him to say you look the same… Ouch. You can’t blame him for it, though, you should stop thinking he would say nice words or compliment you in any way. He never did, and he never would. You need to accept that already.

He leads you to the living room. “Come on, we are behind schedule. Strip and get on the table,” he points to the big dining table at the side of the room and you look at him confused.

“On the table?” You ask. There’s some ropes and sex toys laid on a smaller table at the side. It looks like he’s going to use all of those on you and you shiver in anticipation, your clit claiming attention already.

“Yes. I need to see everything and the light is better here,” he explains as he stares at you, urging you to go faster without any words. He rises the ridges that look like eyebrows, and you start taking off your clothes.

You feel a bit vulnerable getting naked right in front of him, just like the first time. “Aren’t you going to be naked, too?”

“No. This is science, human.” The way he says it feels like he just called you stupid, and you curse yourself when you feel your panties getting wetter. This would be so much easier if him degrading you wasn’t so fucking hot. Damn it.

You sit at the edge of the table and let out a gasp when he grabs you by the back of the thighs and positions you so your ass is fully on the table. He doesn’t caress you, he’s not soft or tender, he just manhandles you until you are laid flat on the table, hands tied over your head. You look at him confused when he lets out a tiny mumble that sounded a lot like a groan, but that can’t be so you let it pass. He grabs your ankles and ties a rope securely around them, making sure it’s not too tight before garbing the other end of the rope and tying it to two hangers on the ceiling. You didn’t even realize those were there.

The movement leaves you immobilized, hands over your head and legs parted and suspended. You are nothing else but a well positioned flesh-toy for him to experiment on… and that’s weirdly hot. You think he’s going to do something more, fuck you with some of the dildos at the side table, but he does none of that. He takes a chair and sits right in front of your open legs, staring at your pussy intently as you struggle, unable to cover yourself.

And when you think this couldn’t be any more humiliating, he puts on some ridged gloves and starts rubbing your clit as you scream his name. You blush harder, completely embarrassed that with only a tiny touch you lost your cool. He keeps going at it for a while, just rubbing your clit until your pussy is literally dripping. Every once in a while he takes notes on a notepad with his free hand, humming as he does so. You don’t know what he’s writing down, but the whole thing is making your pussy quiver. And right before you are about to cum… He stops.

“NO!” You scream when he takes his hand away. He looks at you startled, and just smirks, shushing you with a condescending pat on the side of your leg. The same way he would calm an overexcited puppy. You feel your face burning with humiliation as he looks over the toys at the side table, selecting two before you can see which ones.

He doesn’t give you a heads up. “Does this feel better?” He thrusts a fat short dildo a couple times inside of you and your eyes roll back into your head. But then he pulls it out and pushes another one inside, this time thinner and ridged, “or does this feel better?” He thrusts inside a couple more times. “Human, answer me,” he urges as he slaps the side of your quivering leg.

“I- I don’t know,” you squeal when he thrusts in a particular angle that makes you see stars.

“Again: this… or this?” He changes the dildos faster this time, and asks again. You feel like you are in the ophthalmologist at that point. If you weren’t on the edge of an orgasm, you might have laughed.

“The first, the first one,” you say when he threatens to do it again. You want to cum so bad, but you also know he’s not going to let you until he has all the data he wants, whatever those might be.

“That’s interesting,” he says as he takes more notes.

You feel like you are back on the first day you met him, acting like everything is normal as he examines you. But it’s not the same, the tiny voice in your head says. And it is right. It’s not the same. Not at all. You are at his house, you’ve had him cum in you, he played with you a lot more times. This time you know he has a human kink… and you are his test subject. Not the same at all.

He tries the two dildos a few more times, thrusting one after the other in different angles, noting down every reaction. And when you think you are going to lose it and come… he stops.

He says something you don’t quite catch, your ears ringing with need and desperation, your legs trembling in the restrains as he takes something else from the side table. Once again, you don’t get a heads up before he inserts a dildo with different spheres, something like beads but bigger and sturdier, pressing against your walls as he thrusts it inside of your welcoming body.

“Is this better?” He asks, his eyes fixated on your face as you try not to cry out in pleasure.

But you are weak. “Yes. Yes. Yes.” You chant as he thrust it inside and the beads rub against your G-spot.

You are once again on the edge of what feels like an earth shattering orgasm when he takes it out, agonizingly slow, and puts it aside.

He doesn’t say anything as you breath hard and whine, his hand resting over your pussy in what you think should be a comforting gesture, but it’s just making you go crazy with need. You can feel your heartbeat in your clit and his closeness is only making it worse. You know what those hands can do, what those fingers can bring out of you...

“I think I got it,” he says suddenly, his eyes fixated on the notebook.

“Wha- what did you get?” You ask, breathlessly. Your voice sounds rough after so much screaming, your legs can’t stop shaking in the restrains and he still looks at you like you are nothing more than a test subject for his wicked plans. Which well… you might be.

“I think I know how to make you…” he thinks about the word for a few seconds, “squirt.”

You are about to be a little shit and ask him how he pretends to accomplish that, but he pushes two of his super long fingers inside of you in such a way that makes your back arch, your ass suspended in the air as he twists his fingers in the perfect angle to hit your G-spot. You cry out over and over as he presses there, his fingers caressing that special point like he’s a professional pussy whisperer, and you can’t even focus your eyes anymore. He’s that good.

And when you think you can’t do it anymore, he gets one of the vibrators and places it right over your clit, sending your body into another dimension as your brain dissolves into bone-melting pleasure. You cry out his name and he smiles, kissing the side of your knee next to his head and pressing harder against your G-spot. In other circumstances, your heart would be fluttering at the tiny kiss, but at the moment your brain isn’t more than a puddle of neurons and uncoordinated cells.

“Come on human,” he urges, “give me what I worked for…” He whispers in the filthiest tone ever.

And then you feel it, you feel like you need to pee and you try to hold it, but he doesn’t let you do any of that. He caresses your G-spot with more intensity, turning up the vibrations and rubbing it against your oversensitive clit. You scream and it feels like a dam breaks inside of you, pleasure washes over you and it releases in a tidal wave over your pliant body. You feel a hot wet release leaving your body and you have a fraction of a second to look down where he’s being sprayed as he looks at your pussy with the biggest smile possible. It’s almost comical if you weren’t falling apart into the arms of ecstasy.

You come down from the best orgasm of your life as he’s grabbing a towel and drying himself as best as he can, his tongue coming out to lick your juices from his lips. You shudder, your pussy quivering at the sight. He looks at you and smiles, the most honest and tender smile he’s ever given you, and your heart skips a beat. You are about to say something, but when you open your mouth nothing comes out. He looks at you confused, but doesn’t say anything.

He cleans you thoroughly with another soft towel, being careful and tender. The butterflies in your stomach are going crazy at his actions, but you try to push all the hopeful thoughts down. It means nothing, he’s just happy because he got you to squirt again. That’s all. He solved the mystery and he’s happy about it, nothing to do with you. That thought pains you, but you try to smile at him, not sure you succeed at looking happy.

He releases you next, and takes your boneless body to the sofa, where he lays you down carefully and stares at your naked body for a while. It should be uncomfortable, but his eyes on you only make you feel cared for, embraced by something bigger than yourself. He doesn’t even touch you, but he doesn’t have to. The fact that he’s there… it means a lot more than it should. Probably means a lot more to you than it means to him, but for a few minutes you want to hope, to feel like he cares about you and you can be something more than whatever you two are doing. And it feels great in that silence, it feels like a promise, like you really can have something.

But he breaks the moment and turns around, disappearing into the kitchen. He comes not a minute later. “That was great,” he says as he offers you some water and some biscuits. He hand feeds them to you until you are too tired to keep your head up, and then caresses your hair until you relax completely. “Tomorrow we’ll do it again,” he announces after a while.

“Wh- what?” You stutter, your pussy not ready for that.

“Science can’t be made in just one experiment. We need to repeat it to see if it truly works or if it was just luck,” he explains.

You don’t know if you can survive his “experiments” anymore, but you say nothing as you relax back into the cushions. That would be a problem for future later, you deserve to enjoy the aftercare, even if you know it will make you miserable when you realize it doesn’t mean anything at all for him. Even if you’d cry alone back in your room. At the moment, you can pretend he does care, just a for a minute…

Everything else is a problem for future you.