The Church of Father Madre (Part 2)

by Trenchcoat Tardigrade 

Heather escorted me to a decent enough bedroom. It wasn’t the kind of nice we’ve all seen on the reality television shows that invade the lives of celebrities. It was more the kind decorated by people that think they should be celebrities getting their life invaded by reality television shows, with their “Egyption” cotton sheets and fake gold decorations purchased from one knock-off clearance warehouse or another, where spelling mistakes on the labels don’t matter as long as the “sale” stickers can cover them up. The four-post canopy bed looked comfortable enough, but the pole shooting up through the center was a bit off-putting.

“What’s with that post sticking out the middle of the bed?” I asked.

“Our research tells us that it would be of assistance during the act of providing offspring,” Stan stepped forward from the empty air.

I made an attempt to reply, but instead just kept looking from Stan and Heather to the six-foot tall, two-foot wide log. “H-how?” I finally got out. “And who’s it supposed to fit inside?”

Just to be clear, I’m not homophobic or anything. I even had a girlfriend back in college that used to get off on ringing my backdoor’s doorbell. It wasn’t my thing, but I’ve found that I’m much more open to letting a woman do whatever she wants when she has my dick in her mouth. Call it caution. Call it lust. Just don’t call it this. This was not that. That was the tip of a slender finger in my otherwise virginal butthole. This looked like it could be used to break down a castle gate.

Heather and Stan looked at me and laughed. I didn’t know they could do that, and it didn’t sound like a laugh as people think of it. Apparently, the thought of me impaled on a telephone pole was enough to get them roaring with something between the sound of a housecat with its tail stuck in a screen door and an ambulance siren struggling to blare from a busted speaker. 

“You’ll have to forgive us,” Stan said after regaining control. “You weren’t supposed to see that… yet.”

He reached out and made a push-pull-twist motion from ten feet away. The pole faded to invisibility as he pushed it out of my fourth-dimensional view.

“How’d you do that?” I was getting used to the whole extra dimension popping in and out, but seeing Stan shift something that large from across the room caught me off guard.

“I turned the knob and swung it out the way. Why?”

“What knob? All I saw was you go all fucking jazz hands over there and the goddamned tree disappeared.”

“It’s amusing how obsessed you still are with such insignificant things. It reminds me of the slotheling experiments we need to run every few centuries,” Stan said.

“Do you remember when little K473 kept asking why she had to play with that human child?” Heather asked.

“Indeed, I do,” Stan never took his stern eyes off of me. “It was as if she shouldn’t fulfill her duty to the collective simply because the human child had an odor.”

“Wh-what happened to her?”

“Which one are you inquiring about?” Heather asked me.

“I don’t know. Your K4 something something? The human child? Both?”

“Oh, K473 ultimately fulfilled her responsibilities and became one now known as Kate,” Heather said. “You will meet her in time. She is on your to do list, but not as a high priority.”

“And the human?”

“She is no longer with us,” Stan said as an awkward grin formed on his thin lips.

“You mean she died? Did you do that? Did your experiments kill her?” I slumped to the ground and put his face in his hands. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. What’d I get myself into. Oh, fuck.”

“Dead?” Heather said. “Who said she died?”

“But he said -“

“I said she is no longer with us. She’s in New Jersey. She is doing quite well hosting a midday cooking show. She is one of many that have found success because of our interference in the developmental portion of their lives.”

“Wait. It wouldn’t be Melanie would it?” As a loyal fan of that particular television program, I knew where it was filmed. “I knew there had to be some high-tech gamma ray shit or something going on to make tits like those.”

“Those are a combination of good genetics and a great surgeon,” Stan said. “And no, it was not Melanie. We know little of her outside of the show. It’s Francine that we had at our disposal as a child.”

“Oh, I never would’ve guessed there was anything special about her. She hides it so well.”

“Of course she does. It’s easy to do when you don’t know about it.”

“So, y’all brainwashed her?”

“Of course we did.”

“And me?”

“Not yet. It doesn’t make sense to do that until we are ready to release you back among the other humans. You are free to speak to anyone here about anything you wish. We just can’t allow the same when you return.”

“Ok,” I put my hands up, “let me get this straight. Y’all knocked on my door and told me that you’ve fucked up my life so that I can get all kinds of alien pussy, just to make it so I can’t even remember the way Heather’s tits bounce?”

“Not exactly,” Heather said.

“But yes,” Stan added.

I sat on the bed with my face pressed firmly into my open hands. I really should have gotten more clarification before I agreed to let them kidnap me, not that I honestly thought anything would have prevented it from happening. 

“Okay. What now?” I asked as I once again accepted my reality.

“Now we allow you to ask any three questions.”

“Only three?! How in the hell do you expect me to reduce everything I’m wondering about down to three questions? Don’t you realize how many fucking things I don’t understand about what’s going on? I think I deserve many more than just three fucking questions.”

“Yes,” Stan said.

“We don’t,” Heather said.

“Not exactly,” they answered together.

“I must extend my appreciation for you making that so efficient. Often we have to wait hours for a new subject to figure out what answers they most desire.”

“Wait. What are you talking about? I didn’t ask anything.”

“Yes, you did.”

Stan repeated the three knee-jerk questions I had asked, and the answers they provided.

“But those don’t count.”

“Of course they do. Why would they not?”

“Because I was just getting clarification. Come on. You gotta work with me.”

“Isn’t getting clarification the whole idea of asking questions? How are we to know that you aren’t trying to exploit our already immense hospitality?”

“Hospitality? What fucking hospi-” Stan lifting a finger to shush me almost put me over the edge I had been approaching for the past few hours.

Heather smiled at me. “It would appear that you are partially correct. You did not ask three questions toward your tally.”

“That’s good. I wanna know how -“

“You only asked two. The first appears to have been rhetorical in light of the others. You have one question remaining.”

I wanted to get up and start yelling at my two captors, but I held myself back. With my luck I would have accidentally wasted my only remaining chance to find out something I’d been trying to understand all day. There were so many options. Who else had they abducted through the years? What exactly I was going to be doing? What was with the wooden pole with the invisible knob? But then it hit me. The one question that might offer me nothing substantial, but would help ground me in my surroundings.

“Y’all did that strange clothes shit, and some of the things y’all say ain’t right, and then there’s this room,” I looked around with short pauses to focus on the most gaudy examples of home furnishing I’ve ever seen. “So, I wanna know where the fuck do y’all get your ideas about real people?”

“The internet,” Stan said. “It really is amazing that it took a species on this planet as long as it did to come up with something so basic.” 

“What kind of sites do y’all visit?”

“It is called Pornhub,” Heather said. “We know your species has an obsession with those god things y’all like to talk about. We ran a simple algorithm to see which sites had the most references to it. People were yelling god this and holy that all over that site. So, we observed the clothing we saw when we looked into the religious section of the website and the scenery the acts occurred in. We wanted to make you feel as comfortable as possible.”

“Really? You watched porn to get an understanding of how people are? I thought y’all’ve been here for a long time. Why didn’t you just use the stuff you’ve learned over time?”

“Exponential culture growth,” Stan said.

I looked at him. I would like to say I looked at him curiously or like he was speaking another language. Instead, it was like my brain just stopped working. Heather and Stan returned my empty look, as if not sure what happened.

“Umm, what?” I asked.

“Well,” Heather answered, “when compared to other planets, the species here are below average on the rate of technological progression. Humans, in particular, are remarkably slow. Other species have a stable trajectory, but humans seem to be obsessed with being unpredictable. We’ve been waiting for you to catch up and the internet did just that.”

“Unfortunately, the hyper-increased rate of progression created excessive confusion when compared to the primitive levels of cognition,” Stan said.

“I have no fucking idea what you just said.”

“Allow me to try,” Heather said. “Your species isn’t smart enough to properly make use of the technology you created.”

I thought back to my own internet experiences. There was some quality information out there, I’d seen it with my own eyes, but it was usually hidden behind a dozen pages of paid-for-promotion search results and was pretty much absent from the social media echo chambers. I couldn’t argue with Heather and Stan, but it didn’t matter. I loved being told I was right with all the times people clicked that thumbs up.

“Okay, let me see if I understand. You know the internet is a bad source of material for understanding us, but you used it to understand us.”

“Not at all,” Stan said. “We don’t need to understand you. Doing so offers us nothing of value. Our final objective is inevitable. We only needed to catch your attention and your search history told us exactly how to do that without wasting our time.”

They looked at me as if it should have been an obvious point.

“Are you talking about my history or, like, the average?”

“Both. As much as most people think their internet use is controversial, only a small fraction could be considered unique by any standard. Most of you follow trends without knowing where they begin and then pleasure yourselves to randomly themed pornography. We know what you like and exploited that.”

Heather looked at me with pouty lips and began unbuttoning her blouse. She stepped toward me until I could smell her peppermint breath. She placed a manicured finger against my open lips and slowly dropped to her knees, her finger following down my body. Her hand reached the front of my bulging jeans. She rubbed down my erection, up to my waistband, and disappeared to pop back next to Stan.

“See,” Stan said as if he was taking notes on the rate paint dries.

“Anyway, you have asked your question and it has been answered. We will now leave you to rest. Your meal will be delivered shortly. Sleep well because you will be put to use in the morning.”

Both vanished, leaving me with tight jeans and new questions. A tray with food appeared next to the bed. The meal wasn’t the worst I’ve had. The skin-on steak and ranch dressing covered fruit salad was unexpected, but it was still an improvement on the canned meat and ramen noodles I’d lived off of for two years.

My mind was running wild. I tried to connect the dots of everything I learned, but had to accept that I really had no idea what was going on. What was the goal of the Slothe? I didn’t know. Why was I picked to be part of it? No idea. And most important of all, was the sex going to be a one-on-one thing or an all out orgy? I couldn’t wait to find out. Eventually, I was exhausted and fell asleep.

I slept better than expected and woke with a yawn and my hand on my dick. What I saw when my eyes opened immediately reminded me where I was.

Heather was standing at the foot of the bed. Another Heather stood next to her. And another. Another. And even a fifth Heather stood there. All were looking at me with smiles.

“Good waking, Max,” they said in unison.

Their bodies shifted to match their chosen wardrobes. The schoolgirl from my front door sucked a lollipop while the leather-clad version pretended to struggle with the furry cuffs around her wrists. There was one Heather wearing an unbuttoned blouse and pencil skirt and impatiently smacked her hand with a ruler while another one shook pom-poms and kicked her leg over her head. The fifth stood there completely nude, other than the massive strap-on she was rubbing lube onto. The complaints I had about them using internet porn as source material evaporated… well, I still had one.

“Today you begin your task of providing offspring to the Slothe. You may choose one of us for the day. Which do you favor?”

My eyes scrolled from left to right and back.

“Not you. Definitely not you,” I pointed at the Heather with the plastic cock. She stepped back and vanished.

“Can’t I just have you all?”

“Of course you can,” they said together. “But you are a human male. It is well documented that you ignorantly think you can satisfy the needs of multiple partners. We don’t find it as amusing as human females do, but we must be realistic.”

My ego took a hit with that, but I couldn’t argue with the logic. Just seeing them all standing there almost had me coating the blanket. There was no way I would be any good to any of them if I had them all. I wasn’t even sure it wouldn’t be a wasted day once one joined me.

“Okay, I’ll take you,” I pointed at the schoolgirl version. I had spent most of a day going from confused with the events to horny with the bouncing breasts that were explaining them. I had to see what was under that skirt when a strap-on wasn’t included.

The other three followed the first one into the nothingness, leaving the Heather I knew and lusted after looking at me. She flickered and music began playing.

I watched as she began to strut to my bedside. The top two buttons of her blouse were already undone, but her nimble fingers freed a third… a fourth… a fifth. The white shirt flapped open, revealing a dark red lace bra that was strained across the most remarkable pair of breasts I’d ever seen. The nipples hardened and pushed through holes in the lace as the massive sweater stretchers jiggled closer.

Heather bent down and slid a hand under my covers as she climbed into the bed with me. She touched my leg and began an excruciatingly slow journey toward my dick. She moved her face over mine, pressed our lips together, and invaded my mouth with her tongue. She laid down on top of me, her breasts squished me further into the mattress and her mound wiggled against my painfully erect shaft as her hand continued to climb my thigh. I squeezed one of my hands to rub her breast. I slipped the other between her skirt and her perfectly rounded ass. She began grinding against me, only the blanket keeping her skin from mine, keeping me from penetrating her and exploding immediately.

She wrapped one hand around the back of my head, kissing me harder. Her other hand caressed my arm. My dick was being worked to its edge by the third one.

My eyes shot open.

“Wait, wait, wait,” I yelled as I rolled her off of me. “You didn’t say you were gonna bring extra limbs with you.”

“Is there a problem?” she asked.

“Well, yeah. I mean, no. I mean it feels awesome, but it was kind of surprising. You could have warned me about having extra arms.”

“I don’t have extra arms,” she said.

My mouth fell open as I realized the third sensation hadn’t stopped. It was still stroking me, but it was also encompassing my leg, working down the other, and spreading up my stomach and under my ass. I threw the blanket off the bed and screamed.

My lower half was covered in a glaze. It looked like I had an accident at a doughnut shop and didn’t get cleaned off before it dried. It cracked and flaked off as it replenished itself. I wasn’t being stroked. It was just the continued growth and shedding that gave me the sensation.

“What the fuck is that?” I asked as I pointed toward my dick and uselessly tried to squirm away. It continued to spread.

“That is how we reproduce.”

“Wait, what? I thought we were going to fuck. This isn’t fucking.” It had spread up and was now coating all but my head. 

“Well, it is for us,” she said. “There is nothing you can do. Just let it happen.”

“But, but, but…” It covered my mouth and continued until it covered my head. I felt a tightening over my whole body.

The sensation surprised me. It was like I was being patted by a bunch of little hands all over my body. I began to calm down and had to admit it felt pretty good. In fact, it felt amazing. I was getting a full body massage and it was building to the best happy ending I could have ever wanted. I wanted to open my eyes and see what Heather was doing, but I wasn’t going to risk getting the slothe sex juice stuff in my eyes. Never before could I sympathize with my ex-girlfriends so much.

Just as I was about to explode, everything stopped. In an instant I went from absolute pleasure to only feeling a cool breeze on my balls. I wasn’t being rubbed. I wasn’t even covered anymore. But I was lying on the bed, naked, with the most rigid erection of my life. I opened my eyes and saw Heather and Stan staring at me in lab coats.

“Very good,” he said. “You will provide us with ideal offspring. Have a nice day.”

I saw them begin to shimmer and yelled at them to wait.

“Yes?” Heather asked.

“What about, umm,” I looked from her to my penis and back. “Aren’t you gonna take care of this?”

“Why would I? It serves no purpose to us,” she looked like the idea of finishing me off bored her.

“Fuck your purpose. You just turned me into a goddamned crusty burrito and you can’t even be bothered to finish milking my dick?”

She continued to look at me as if not expecting me to make a valid point, but giving me the chance to.

“Look, I don’t care how you do it, but you can’t tell me that the fifteen seconds it would take to get me off would be a waste of your fucking time.”

“Very well. What exactly do you need from me?”

“I just need to cum. Pussy, mouth, hand, I don’t fucking care. My balls are begging you.”

“I find that acceptable,” she said and walked around to the side of my bed again.

I watched her reach out, put my hand on my shaft, and vanish.