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Obelisk Redux (Story)
🕑 Added 2020-10-24 19:28:56 +0000 UTCHi! I rewrote one of my older stories and I'm posting it here!
I originally wrote this story for Halloween 2018 as a bit of a take on the kinds of stories you find in games like Bioshock and Dead Space, some strange object/intelligence corrupts a crew...but lewd! There's some of Incase's The Invitation in here for good measure. Since it's the Spooky Season again, I decided to give it a redo! When I originally wrote it, it had some words that I'd prefer not to use, and I feel like I've gotten a little better at painting a scene, so I made some modifications!
Heads up, this does include both identity play and corruption, as well as involuntary gender transformation and overall lewdness revolving around being taken over by a powerful alien entity, so if you're not into that, proceed no further! Otherwise, I really hope you like it!
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The OCS Looking Glass floated in high orbit above a desolate, grey world. Its long, cylindrical hull marked with the dents of meteoroid impacts from hundreds of years in service. Every movement of the ancient ship was slow, its hull creaking with strain whenever it jumped to hyperspace. Built for long distance surveying on planets claimed by the Oberon Conglomerate, one of its main goals was to seek out old life and the remains of civilizations. Several hundred alien races had been discovered in the area around Earth, and every single one had killed themselves off in one way or another. Some worlds they found were choked in industrial emissions, others scoured lifeless in nuclear armageddon. They rifled through them all, coming up with trinkets and artefacts from peoples whose names would never be spoken aloud again. The Looking Glass’s crew called themselves archaeologists, scientists, explorers. But most called them graverobbers, sifting through the Great Filter for burial treasure.
The slate globe beneath them was no different. A large, planet-spanning culture had existed in what was now a wasteland. The planet’s atmosphere had been ripped away in some kind of unknown calamity. One of the questions they had, after they discovered if the ruins were worth plundering of course, was what exactly happened to the world and its people. Chief among these curious souls was Doctor Arthur Singer was the Looking Glass’s head xenoarchaeologist. The corporation itself had little interest in the affair of a long dead race, and the cost of such expeditions didn’t fit into the budget of people dozens of lightyears away. Most of the crew were tasked with determining what valuable elements, if any, the planet still contained. The culture, art, and history of another dead world were of little interest to anyone but the most passionate. People like Doctor Singer.
He yawned, stretching back in his chair as his translator program ran through another series of pictograms. He had almost cracked a basic working form of the alien’s language, but it still took painstaking trial and error to make sure he wasn’t way off course. Even simple languages still had thousands of words, and in pictograms, each picture could hold a wealth of meaning. It was long, labourious work. But he loved it. In the dark mirror of his workstation’s auxiliary screens, he saw that he looked rather rough from the long day’s worth of work. His sandy hair was mussed and stuck up in parts, stains from a hastily gobbled meal marked his tight grey shirt and black pants, and his labcoat hadn’t been laundered in weeks. He needed to pause for a bit. Maybe take a shower. Soon! Just a few more minutes and he was going to crack the code!
He picked up his slate, keyed the command for an audio log, and stood up from his desk. “Xenoarchaeologist Singer’s Journal, October 1st, 2439. The Captain, in his infinite wisdom, has decided to call an end to excavation trips to the surface. The mineral survey team has finished its efforts, meaning I’m left with about half a hold worth of interesting curios, but nothing else. In case I forget, the keycode for the artefact locker is 450001. Not that anyone would steal a bunch of dead alien junk.”
Strolling through the hallways of the small cargo bay, many of the storage slots were crammed full of items that Arthur was only beginning to discover the meaning of. It frustrated him that there might be the equivalent of a cultural Rosetta Stone somewhere on the surface, but he wouldn’t get a chance to try and find it before the mining teams came in and tore the whole surface up for resources.
One object in the collection seems promising: It was a cylindrical stone stele, maybe a 40 cm long by 8 wide. Pictograms and other symbology covered it entirely. What set it apart from other interesting pieces was that it glowed. A strange, eerie green phosphorescence that drew Arthur’s eyes straight to it when he pulled it out from a large temple-like structure. He figured it must have been an object of some kind of worship, though it might just have been the grave market of a leader. Without proper cultural context, he couldn’t say for certain.
Even now, the strange stone called to him. It was so unlike the other objects in the collection. He reached out to touch it, but remembered that his hands weren’t covered. It wouldn’t do to get his greasy, unsanitary mitts all over such a potentially important discovery!
Equipping the proper gloves, he took the stele over to his workstation. For such a comparatively large stone, it was surprisingly light. He was certain it was stone, at least that’s what the spectrograms said. The source of the light remained unclear, however. But the tests had determined it wasn’t a harmful source of radiation, so only minimal safety precautions needed to be used when handling the object.
OBELISK.
The word appeared in Arthur’s mind. He hadn’t thought about it or called it up. It just popped into existence like a screen turning on. Obelisk? He supposed that fit. He knew other cultures that made similar structures. But Obelisk did sound more interesting than stele, so he mentally changed the name he used for the object. Obelisk. Made sense.
His slate pinged for his attention. At last, the translation program had finished! He had a simplistic dictionary to use in deciphering the alien pictograms. Holding the slate over the Obelisk’s curved surface, the exterior camera turned the images into data, which in turn slid through his carefully crafted algorithms and turned into simple English.
“Storage...self...people...warning...danger.” Arthur frowned. None of that quite made any sense. But that was to be expected, he reasoned. He was the first to get this far in the countless centuries since this planet was rendered uninhabitable. Despite his breakthrough, this may take months to peel through layers of nuance and meaning in the alien tongue. He chewed on the words he’d found so far. Danger? Warning?
NO DANGER. SAFE.
Though it might have been a mistake, he thought. Maybe there wasn’t danger. Maybe it was safe. He continued his investigations, intermittently looking at the pictograms and using his slate to scan them into the database.
“Avoid the Light. See and Feel. Control.” None of it made any sense, even when he said it aloud. Any further warnings didn’t bother him, because he was pretty sure that some rock from thousands of years ago was safe enough. Safe enough to touch, maybe?
SAFE. HARD.
Something was going on, Arthur realized. He shook his head, trying to clear it from the sudden fog that had descended. What was happening? The words that were appearing in his mind were not his.
THE OBELISK. WE SPEAK.
The artefact was calling to him! He couldn’t determine the gender, language, or even species that the voice belonged to. But somehow he knew. The words appeared to him, and he couldn’t shut them out. Pleasurable feelings tingled down his spine, settling in his waist. It felt so good to listen to the voice.
He was horny. His cock, six inches and thick, demanded his attention. He set down the slate. Technically he was still on the clock, but who was going to know that he took a quick jerk-off session? Thankfully, the ship’s intranet had a wildly varied selection of pornography, as almost any computer in human space did. He also had his own personal collection.
Flipping through his usual favourites, however, didn’t inspire Arthur the way it usually did. He was incredibly hard, but he just didn’t feel like jerking off to the usual stuff. He scrolled through categories, finally settling on Anal Play. He wasn’t really a butt guy, but for some reason the moment he saw the dildo and an alluring rear end, he started leaking precum. That almost never happened! He set a playlist to run, and he got to wanking. Having to slip in and out of gloves all day gave him reason to have moisturizer available, which was plenty good to use as lubricant. He watched as hole after hole was defiled by toys, by cocks, by even random objects. Each seemed to stretch the anal ring to its limits.
He couldn’t understand why this type of porn was having such an effect on him. Worse still, he was having problems finishing his jerk-off session. He could reach just before the edge, forcing pre to spill and mingle with the slippery mix on his fingers, but he couldn’t get that extra mile. Something was holding him back.
INSIDE.
No...he couldn’t! His erection flagged as he was filled with fear. Fear that he was being taken over by some kind of corrupting force.
THE OBELISK. INSIDE YOU.
His head turned to the object he had been translating. The glow was bright green now, and pulsing along its length. Was it some kind of ancient technology? How was it talking inside his mind?
He bolted up from his seat and reached for the emergency call button. It would connect him with security or medical, whichever he needed. He reached for it. And reached. And reached. The button seemed to slide further and further away the more he extended himself.
NO. SIT.
He sat, arm falling away from the button.
HARD.
His cock got hard again. He shook meekly as the realization that the intelligence within the stone, whoever it was, had captured him utterly.
FINGER.
One or two-word commands seemed to be all it could manage, but full paragraphs of meaning conveyed themselves despite that limitation. He’d never tried anal play, it just wasn’t something he was interested in. But the single word command made his butt ache to be touched. He wasn’t gay...he was pretty sure. But the voice had him in its thrall. He had to obey it, and maybe he could escape once its perverted desires were sated.
He peeled down his pants and coated his index finger in moisturizer. His traditional orientation fought him as he wrapped his arm around to his cheeks, but the Obelisk’s commands assured him plenty. He could do this and not be gay. It was just a little fun. Plenty of straight guys did it. Plenty of guys loved it. Plenty of guys only came from anal. Anal.
He slid his lubed up finger inside. Whether it was the alien voice or his overall eagerness, he couldn’t say. But he slid in easily. A second finger joined, and he tried to imitate the girls in the porn he was watching.
It felt...good?
The voice wasn’t controlling him, but he continued to finger himself. He got onto his knees on the chair, spread out his ass, and dug deeper into his hole in search for his prostate. Try as he might, all he managed to do was indoctrinate himself to anal fun. While he fingered himself, he watched the girls doing the same (and worse) on the screen. He started imagining himself as them. As hot, sexy girls with fingers up their asses, desperate to get off.
But he hadn’t cum yet. His cock ached. It literally hurt with how rigid it was, but it wasn’t giving him the release he desired.
THE OBELISK.
It was Long. Thick. Hard. It was controlling him.
The Obelisk. That’s what he needed to use. His scientific mind was screaming that that was a terrible idea. He couldn’t just...defile an artefact like that! If someone found out, he’d lose his job for sure. But his compulsion was growing with every second. He tried to fight it, and managed to take the fingers out his ass for a while. But his burning, painful need to cum and the voice conspired to bring him around. After all, who really cared but him?
He grabbed a hold of the Obelisk with his bare, lube-stained hands. He’d already corrupted it with his touch, he reasoned, might as well go all the way. He giggled at the thought, which was strange because he never giggled. Chuckled, maybe. Chortled, guffawed, boomed a laugh perhaps. But giggle? Never. He put the worries that he was becoming some kind of effeminate weirdo to the side and set up the stone cylinder on his chair. Squirting a large amount of moisturizer all over it, soothing waves pulsed through his fingers and reverberated throughout the rest of his body. This stone was good, it was doing good things. He smiled wide and prepared his tight butt to finally receive his just reward.
Briefly waiting for the next video, he tried to sync up his insertion to the slut on the screen. At some point the playlist had strayed into trans girls, cute boys, and other bedicked people. Arthur didn’t care. Having a cock was hot, no matter who it belonged to! He sat down, using the ship’s artificial gravity to help the insertion. The feeling of calm intensified as he pressed the Obelisk inside his ass, calming and weakening his muscles enough to allow for almost painless insertion. Almost painless. It hurt Arthur’s inexperienced ass, and he groaned pathetically for the amount of pain he was experiencing.
No matter. The stone pressed deeper inside, and with it, the feelings of calm grew. Not only that, but they turned to warmth. Gentle heat, like a deeper arousal than anything he’d experienced previously. This felt so much better than jerking off. Maybe even better than sex! His eyes rolled back as his legs gave out and he impaled himself onto the Obelisk and slid down to the base.
That’s when he felt it. The heat. Not arousal, but a piping hot presence inside him. He was yanked out of his stupor momentarily, but more calming waves made him settle down. The heat pushed outward from the stone, sliding into his body, but all the Doctor could do was smile like an idiot. It felt soooo good. Why didn’t he fuck himself with a dildo earlier?
The first thing he noticed was changing was his ass itself. It remained tight, but its threshold for expansion grew. It also started leaking its own lubricant, like a real pussy, making sure that any anal he’d have in the future would be pleasurable for both parties. How was the stone doing this? He had no idea. The energy held within was clearly mutagenic in nature, but rather than stand up to flee, he stood to fuck himself down onto the Obelisk a second time. And then a third. A fourth.
“Aaah~” he moaned out loud, cock throbbing and flopping as his rhythm of fucking increased out of a sheer impatience to finally cum. The fact that he was being changed from within didn’t matter. What did was chasing that sweet, sweet anal orgasm that was so close...
The heat burned through his body, pushing deep into his bones and altering his entire anatomy. Though his height stayed the same, his hips exploded outward. All his musculature tightened and strengthened, yet blended into a soft, supple body. His butt ballooned outward on the seat, becoming a thick and fuckable bubble of jiggly flesh. He felt pressure in his chest, and two masses of fat pushed outward, tearing his shirt open and looking all the world like a pair of large breasts. His face became overtly female, complete with thick lips that would be called cockpillows if one was feeling unkind. Permanent, whorish makeup appeared as well. A part of him was horrified by these changes, but the presence from the stone in his hole told him that it was good. That this was right. He forced more of the Obelisk into his ass and was rewarded with more mind-bending pleasure.
Doctor Singer’s previous gender fluttered away in the whirlwind of changes, leaving her feeling pretty and eager to show off. Although most of her body was becoming feminine, that wasn’t the case for her cock. On the contrary, it was growing with each slam down onto the stone dildo. The pounding on her prostate forced cum from her shuddering body. At first, it was the typical off-white cream she was used to, but as she fucked herself down harder, it was changing too. It became the same green colour as the glow from the Obelisk. She knew instinctively that it would be the end of anyone who was exposed to it. How they would get corrupted too if they even so much as got it on their skin.
So naturally, she scooped up some and shovelled it into her mouth.
The moment the salty-sweetness hit her tongue, it all became clear. Being an incisive scientist was pointless. That wasn’t what the presence wanted. It wanted her to be attractive. To spread her love. To look like a Goddess. And what was more divine than a throbbing, hard cock? Her’s was already beyond anything normal for a human. Eighteen inches, and each heartbeat pushed out another gush of spunk. It was big...so big that she could just lean down and suck it, if she wanted. And she did want to.
DO IT, the voice implored in her head. CORRUPT YOURSELF.
That was all she needed to hear. Her plump lips parted to take in her tip. The pulses of jizz leaked onto her tongue, allowing her to lick and slurp it up from the source. Each drizzle of green seed aided in the alteration process. Her balls filled out, growing larger as they increased in density and purpose. The DNA of her sperm was no longer her own. Each gamete contained packets of corrupting energy in addition to heavily mutated genetics. There would be no chance that insemination wouldn’t result in pregnancy now, even in women who were previously sterile. Such was the power of the Obelisk’s gift.
She intensified her suckling, the experience combining the joys of pleasuring cock with the bliss of receiving a blowjob. Seeing no need to hold herself back, she suckled hard and thrust her hips forward, fucking her own face. Cum gushed down her throat and up into her cheeks. It spilled down onto her shaft, making it glow and glisten. The taste only grew more appealing with each thick dose she gave herself. Gurgling moans echoed off the walls as she reveled in decadent pleasure.
THERE ARE MORE. SHOW THEM. ALL MUST BECOME ONE.
She let the cock fall from her mouth. When she nodded in agreement, green jizz slid down her chin and onto her fat tits. The voice was right. There were so many people on the ship, and they were all so alone. None of them knew how good it felt to be One with the presence from the Obelisk. She would show them. Her hands grabbed a hold of her massive shaft and started pumping. There was no end to her arousal, there was just an ebb and flow. The Doctor looked for erotic stimulus and caught sight of one of Arthur’s old pictures. His old friends from the academy, all standing shoulder to shoulder in chaste camaraderie. They were all attractive now. She wanted to fuck them all. She wanted them to become One. Another load of green cum splattered the pictures, tainting the wholesome image of smiling camaraderie with the essence of her new priorities.
YOU WILL SPREAD. YOU WILL SEED. YOU WILL CORRUPT.
She nodded in a lusty daze. Yes. The presence went through her mind, ripping open sealed doors and filling every crack. There was so little dividing the obelisk and Doctor Singer now. She didn’t know where one began and the other ended. All of her deepest thoughts were exposed and taken advantage of. New thoughts were planted. The merging was almost complete. She opened herself to allow it into her deepest recesses. The last bastions of reluctance fell, heralded by a series of moans. It felt good to obey and become One!
She closed her eyes. When she opened them, it was over. Doctor Singer’s body had been consumed by the corrupting energies of the Obelisk. Her once chocolate brown irises burned an ethereal green colour, which similarly streaked along her pale skin and around her generous curves in geometric lines. Her mind, though tainted beyond comprehension, remained intact. Her sense of self, however, had subsumed by the presence that had lurked within the alien artefact. Arthur and the Obelisk presence were one contiguous entity now. There was a name for this, in one of the human languages. The spirit rifled through the Doctor’s memories for the answer.
“Avatar,” she said in a new voice. Feminine, resonant, and wholly inhuman. “Yes. I have become the Avatar of what is to come.” She stood, the dildo sliding easily from her now accommodating ass. If she bothered to look back, she would have seen the Obelisk was slate black now. Just a dead rock. But she already knew that. It had served its purpose. Now she had a new vessel.
Green, potent seed continued to drool from her massive prick, leaving a glowing trail behind her as she strolled from the room. All that was left of her outfit was a partially cum-drizzled labcoat. No reason for even that amount of cover, she decided, and let the garment slide to the floor. There was a crew of an entire ship to corrupt, one after another, until all were One with the Avatar. She’d start with the Captain, the one who didn’t appreciate what power lay beneath their feet. Then, she figured, she would work her way through ship, converting the crew, each spreading their own seed when they returned to their home colonies. Planet after planet would fall until the entire human race was One. The part of her that was still Doctor Singer reasoned that this may have been why the species on the planet below had died out. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was bringing all into the fold. The Avatar smiled.
Comments
Devi Lacroix
This has always been one of my favorites, and the update is noticed and appreciated!
