Susan and Ksenia were out on a date in what you call the bad part of town. In Armstrong City, capital of the Mars Republic, there were a scant two million souls, and not all of them could be as fortunate as the Knoxes. In the Ethanol District, the buildings were unstable stacks of rocket fuel tanks, cargo containers and pieces of old airships, piled unsettlingly high in the low Martian gravity. The air was tainted with the scent of alcohol from the exhaust of the little ground bikes and primitive cars hacked together by the locals from parts of other things. In a little diner called the Chimay Bleue Bistro, smelling perpetually of grease and beef, the two women sat in pink vinyl seats in a booth with a chrome-and-plastic table, sipping, ironically, very shitty beer.

Ksenia looked at Susan. She was freshly bald, a humiliation punishment in their mistress's dungeon, and with her face relatively clear of makeup, her dark red lipstick was oddly butch. Ksenia herself was looking a little unusual--she had made every attempt to look unnoticeable: after all, a member of the Martian Parliament shouldn't show herself in a place like this. She was wearing her hair pulled sharply back and had a mere layer of concealer on and a heart-shaped patch of pink lipstick in the middle of her lips. Both were topless under their jackets, and wearing just legwarmers and panties with no shoes--recent youth fashion in the more lascivious clubs and hangouts of Armstrong. Both of them had plugs in, for the sheer kick of wearing them in public, and Susan had a remote-control mini vibrator strategically placed in her cunt.

Over the diner speakers, Moonshooter played, a centuries-old love song.

"So," Ksenia was saying, "wig shopping next, or the Temple of Pleasure?"

"I don't know if I can handle the Temple of--" she struggled not to yelp. Ksenia must have turned the vibrator all the way to high. She looked up. Ksenia was smirking knowingly. "Oh, was that really necessary?"

"I'm sorry," Ksenia said, in a voice that said "I have never been sorry for anything."

"Temple of Pleasure it is then." She fanned herself. "Somebody's horny."

"I've had my chastity belt off for twenty-four hours and I've only had fingers up here."

"My fingers. That's not so bad. Even Leona says I'm the best fingerfuck she's ever had."

"I was hurting pretty bad from the caning," Ksenia said. She noticed that a large, muscular man in the next booth was staring, and relished the attention.

Susan decided to change the subject. "Truth or Dare."

"Truth."

"Would you let an alien fuck you?"

"Dare," Ksenia said, emphatically putting down her glass of what must have been Steel Reserve.

"Let an alien fuck you."

"Fuck. Are there even aliens that do that?"

Susan grinned wide, which only made her lipstick look more butch. "There's this tentacle thing, okay?"

The place wasn't in the Alien Sector of Armstrong. It was only a few blocks from the diner, in fact, in a long-stay motel. They checked their clothes at the front desk, to the relative delight of the young male clerk, and walked up to the third floor and found the place. Susan knocked on the door, three times. Slowly, the door handle turned. Out of the utter darkness, two long, green tentacles, slightly scaly, appeared and beckoned the two of them inside.

They found themselves in pitch blackness with a strange, sickly-sweet smell in the air. Ksenia heard a voice in her head, like a deep base note on a big panpipe. "I am the Forest Wanderer. I came to this planet because it is time for me to die, but it will take me a hundred years and I've only just begun to wither. Your name is Hospitality, is it not, young bird?"

"It means that," she said aloud. She had forgotten that someone had told her that once, an aunt or something.

"Do you want me to do for you what I did for her, to put you in that state that you call 'orgasm?' I do it as an act of kindness, of hospitality, as you might say. Few humans ever meet my species, and most that do are horrified, but we could be such friends."

"What is it like?"

"I will treat you gently, then firmly with my many fingers. There is a bed four feet ahead of you on either side, and you may lie on it, or you may stand, or squat, or maintain whatever pose wherever you like. Shall I?"

Ksenia wasn't one to back down from a dare. She felt her way to one bed and laid down. She was aware of Susan finding the same bed, making her way to the other side and lying down beside her. They clasped hands for the third time ever. With a little reluctance, Ksenia spread her legs a little.

Suddenly, something stroked her along her midline, starting just below her neck and running down between her breasts, dipping in her navel and stopping in her trimmed bush. It had been warm, gentle, a little damp. Suddenly, the same thing happened to her left breast--something ran around and around it. She kept thinking of the scaly tentacles. Then, in a moment that made her gasp, a tentacle was touching her between her cunt and her ass, stroking the little bit of loose flesh she had always been so embarrassed of.

It went in. Something first thin, and then quite thick, went into her cunt, very deeply, filling it but not stretching it. There was something unsettling and unearthly about the way it wriggled inside her. She squeezed Susan's hand, at which point she noticed that Susan was already moaning quietly. The stroking on her perineum came again, and she wondered how many tentacles the thing had. The wriggling inside her became more intense. Then she realized that the other tentacle was moving down to her ass.

"May I remove this bit of jewelry?"

"Jewelry?" she said. No, she realized she hadn't said it. She'd thought it, but with the intention of the alien hearing it.

"What you wear in your lower orifice. It is for the purpose of decorating you, isn't it?"

"Yes and no. You can... I guess you can take it out."

Gently, she felt a fine tentacle or tendril wrap around the base of her plug and ease it out of her. Instinctively, she clenched, but a moment later, she felt a tentacle gently pressing at her ass. It took her a moment, but she let it slip in. She was reminded of a thin enema nozzle that had been used on her the night before. Then it grew thick, much thicker than the tendrils inside her cunt, and it seemed to keep going, deeper and deeper into her guts. She moaned low and long.

There was a feeling of horror, but no gag reflex, when a tentacle came up her throat and wrapped around her tongue--tasteless, warm, and very gentle. She realized that this was to be an exercise in submission, in its own way. With reluctance, she relaxed and let the alien have its way with her, wriggling inside her bowels and stomach and making her feel oddly full and oddly fucked. She realized that this alien enjoyed being inside of her as much as a man would, and that she could enjoy it in a very similar way. Still, she held on to Susan's hand and felt that they were deep in the woods together.

She felt tentacles wrap around her feet and her legs above the knees, and firmly pull her into the receptive position for missionary.

"Little bird, my friend Susan wants to mount you."

"Yes," Susan whispered. "It wants to learn more about how our species fucks. It knows it's got two females, so its tentacles are going to stand in for my cock. Is that alright?"

"Oh, of course, my sweet wife," Ksenia said, a little muffled due to the tentacles around her tongue. She let go of Susan's hand.

Through the bed, she felt Susan get up on her hands and knees. She came over and got over Ksenia. Ksenia felt the tendrils pull out of her cunt. She put her hand up on Susan's shoulder. "Is everything good? Should I trust...?" she said.

"Trust me. I fuck this guy all the time. I was his first human," Susan said.

Something began pressing at the lips of her cunt, not the single tendril but, she suspected, a whole knot of tendrils forming up into the shape of a cock.

The thing turned out to be a cock only approximately, when she felt up along it with her hand. She should have known that its reference for a human penis would be scarce. It was thicker at the tip, but with a nearly flat front and a continuous taper down to a narrow base, not the thick, rounded, perfectly smooth tip and thinner, veiny shaft of a hard cock. The texture was coarse and spongey, being formed from perhaps a hundred feet of fine tendrils bunched together. She felt further up. It was coming directly from Susan's cunt, and a thicker tendril entered her cunt at an angle, as though the tentacle doubled up inside Susan and formed a cock as it left her.

Satisfied with knowing what was about to enter her, she spread her labia and let it slip in with some effort. It functioned as an extension of Susan, and she felt her wife's hips thrusting against hers as the odd cock fucked her.

She felt Susan's hand move down her stomach looking for her clit. She guided it there. Soon, this woman with whom she had mostly been in bondage was fucking her vigorously, like a person with a cock, not a strapon, and massaging her swollen clit. Meanwhile the writhing in her bowels rose and she felt like she was being cleaned out, in the same way as after a massive enema.

Ksenia let it all happen to her. She spread her arms above her on the bed and thought about how nice it would be to be tied down--a born submissive, Ksenia was. As she thought would happen, it read her mind, and tendrils gently wrapped around her wrists, then grew quite firm. They drew her arms out straight to either side. Tendrils wrapped around her neck and her forehead. She was completely held down. The inability to stop what was happening--even the fact that she had no explicit arrangement of consent with this alien--was all incredibly erotic. Then something she did not expect happened. Susan brought her face down close to Ksenia's. Ksenia felt her hot breath. They kissed, first lips then tongues. But it was an oddly three-sided kiss, with little tendrils unwrapping from Ksenia's tongue and playing around in both their mouths. Susan made a noise when she realised what was happening.

And with all things together, but especially the writhing mass of tentacles going all the way through her body the wrong way, and her wife's body slapping against her crotch and overstimulating her clit, Ksenia came and came hard. Waves and warmth went through her lower body. She squirted, not pee but that mysterious fluid she had felt emerge from her many times.

As she moaned and moaned, she was aware that Susan was screaming. They must have come at the same time. For a few moments, there was quiet, and the three of them, the Russian woman, the Martian wife and the alien, rested together.

Then, slowly, the tentacles unwrapped themselves from her tongue, slid down her throat and with a feeling like expelling an enema, retracted violently from her ass, leaving Susan on top of Ksenia, both of them panting and sweaty.

"Can we see you?" she said, at last.

"No. The last one who perceived me visually," the voice in her head said, as if sighing, "lost control of her mind."

"Can I... can I visit you again?"

"Of course. It is both deeply pleasurable and nutritive to me to 'fuck' beings such as you."

Ksenia realized why she felt hungry again.

"Come on, Susan," Ksenia said at last. "I think I need some street food. And you need a wig. Goodbye, sweet thing."

"Goodbye, little bird," the voice in her head said. "Be blessed."