A scientist is transformed into a plasma being, and his lust can not be contained anymore.
Her hands shook as she entered the passcode and waited for the display to ping green. Looking left then right, Agnes stepped into the sterile environment only after being sure she wasn’t seen. There was a moment of suspended silence as she studied the clean, minimalistic lines of the empty laboratory. It was rebuilt after the tragedy that took the one person she cared about from her had turned it into rumble and ruin.
Trembling with emotion, her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke.
“…Victor?” Time itself seemed to wait with baited breath.
There’s no breeze in a closed off, underground laboratory. Yet, Agnes shook with relief at the barest touch of wind against her shoulder, an intangible caress that she felt more keenly than the weight of the clothes over her body, cotton and nomex. Agnes quickly divested herself from the lab coat, eager to feel more.
“V-victor, is that really you?” She stepped further towards the center of the room.
Slightly stronger, the breeze wound itself around her neck, making the tiny hairs there stand up. Her gasp was involuntary, hand rising to cover her mouth as tears of happiness pooled in her eyes.
“You’re really here,” she smiled between her tears, hands up and forward as if she could feel Victor in the air the same way he clearly could feel her. “I-I can’t believe… How could they hide this from me?”
As soon as it came, her happiness turned into righteous anger. She had worked at the facility faithfully for years before she rose the ranks enough to meet him, the lead researcher on all experiments done here and the man that she would fall in love with. Quickly, passionately, completely. Despite the taboo of their age difference – 22 and 46 – and his position of authority over her making everything more complicated, neither could deny their feelings enough to stay far from the other.
And just as the relationship was leading where it should – hidden meetings full of conversations about the future and how they could be open about their relationship, heated make-out sessions that began coming closer and closer to lovemaking – the accident happened. Victor was the only one capable of fixing the facility’s state-of-the-art particle collider that malfunctioned at least twice a week. He was alone when it blew up. The only loss of a place that employs hundreds of people.
He had been Agnes’ whole world, the one man she was ready to give herself to fully. Suddenly, he was gone, not even a body left behind for her to cry over. Except, not anymore. The data she discovered had been through, the experiments done more than enough proof that he lived on: whatever this force, this plasma was, it had his memories, knew what Victor had known, could touch and communicate even with no words.
Another tear fell, warm and pained. The breeze was increasingly stronger as it gusted around Agnes, making her clothes flutter and her heart patter. She smiled at it, at him, hoping he could see, that he knew how glad she was to be with him again, even like this.
“If I had known, Victor, baby…” She lamented, sniffing. “I wish I could hold you, tell you how much I—”
Agnes was caught by surprise by a gust so strong it lifted her off the ground for a moment, nearly tangible against her exposed skin. It felt warmer than the air around it. Squinting against the bright lights, she swore there was visible distortion in the space where whatever was left of her lover resided.
Almost in apology for startling her, Victor ran quasi-intangible fingers over the pebbled skin of her arms, up and towards her chest, where he enveloped her in something she could almost call a hug. Except, it was everywhere. There was pressure against her lips, her throat, her chest, down to her belly and an unexpected place between her legs. She had no idea if it was intentional – or even if any capacity for intention remained in Victor while in this form – but her panties were uncomfortably pressed against her pussy as an external entity applied force there.
“Oh—” She gasped, stepping back. But the plasma followed her, maintaining contact.
Agnes squirmed under the at once soft and unyielding force. The rubbing between her legs was rhythmic, but it took a few moments for her overwhelmed brain to catch up on it. Encased on a white, cotton, long-sleeved shirt, her breasts weighted less as they were held up by him, by it. Cupped and groped, the strangest sensation of Agnes’ life was flailing her arms in front of her, where whatever or whoever was doing this should be, and finding nothing. Yet, the stimulation to her body was undeniable, impossible to ignore.
Its’ touch was familiar, knowledgeable. He held and kneaded and rubbed her just the right way, the same way Victor always did before. Memory, indeed. He knew how to reduce her to a quivering mess, just on that precipice of throwing her reservations out of the window and asking him to ravage her.
Except, she never did. As soon as he found out that she was a virgin, Victor had been adamant about waiting her time. He had been patient, kind and understanding. She knew he got frustrated with the waiting, but he never pressured her. As much as she did her best to demonstrate how much that meant to her, she was sure it pained him every time she shied away from his advances.
“I-I missed you too,” she giggled, tried to pretend that everything was fine, but it was an empty action. Her heart was rabbiting inside her chest, adrenaline surged in her veins as the plasma picked her up, all of the 105 pounds of her, and kept her hovering above the ground.
“Vi-victor…” She swayed in the air, almost rendered mute by the sudden fear squeezing her throat. “You know I’m a-afraid of heights!”
Agnes tilted forward, now fighting against the force holding her up, keeping her body in a vice. All it did was unbalance her, make her parallel with the floor. The laws of gravity itself seemed to have changed. She rose higher still, the tall ceiling of the room now closer than the floor.
“Oh-h!” Agnes moaned, the sensations on her body somehow still rising.
Glancing down, she was startled to notice that while she couldn’t see the plasma, him, the effect of his touch on her was visible. Her breasts, nipples poking through the shirt, flattened and bunched over her chest as they were manipulated. The loose shirt deformed around her torso as the plasma moved along and over and under it. Agnes’ mouth opened in protest as the shirt was ripped off her body.
Ripped. By an intangible force. She saw the experiments, the data, she knew he was strong. But it was made clear just how much. Agnes tried to scream, but terror made the sound catch in her throat. He destroyed her bra as well, and she began hyperventilating.
“V-v-victor…” The rubbing against her pussy was so rough now that it hurt, but as much as she squirmed, Agnes was incapable of escaping it at all.
Her struggle was renewed, legs kicking empty air as she fought to run away much like a cartoon character. The plasma was pipping hot, it almost burned her skin as it spread over it, over her, more and more solid-like. It slithered under the elastic of her pants and Agnes found her voice just in time to scream as it pulled the cloth down.
“STOP!” She tried to lean forward and reached for the ground. The plasma accommodated for her movement and Agnes floated upside down, dark hair spilled in waves under her.
All the blood quickly flowed to her head, making her dizzy and nauseous. It was also for naught, as Victor finished his removal of her clothing by snapping the black, comfortable panties she wore in two. There were cameras in the room, more than a few, designed to show experiments from all the angles necessary. With despaired eyes, she glanced at one, another. They represented an at once horrifying possibility and great hope: someone might see what was happening.
Agnes whimpered as she was hoisted higher still. A fall from that height would likely not be fatal, but it was impossible to curb her phobia with rationality at that point. The plasma made its way over her skin, smooth and unyielding even as it remained barely visible.
“Pl-please, don’t, please, stop!” She begged repeatedly, her litany rising in loudness as Victor reached between her legs.
Strands of him held her ankles and pulled them apart roughly, leaving her exposed to the air. Shamefully, her pussy glistened, deep-pink flesh swollen from his attentions. He turned her body, thankfully right side up, but her relief didn’t last long.
Agnes was a smart young woman. She had a good inkling as too how much sexual frustration Victor had surely garnered during their time together. She saw the data about how strong and unpredictable this form was. It was simple enough to put two and two together and deduce that he would do now what he never got to experience in life. Fuck her.
However, there must have been some fondness for her left in him, in it. A vague memory of her wishes, her pleas, not enough for him to let her go, to treat her kindly. But enough that, when the most solid piece of him slotted between her legs, it bypassed her virgin, clenched pussy completely, leaving it undisturbed. Instead, its head pressed against the tiny pucker of Agnes’ asshole, vulnerable and helpless.
“Wha-at, AHHH!” The young woman screamed as her most intimate, forbidden place was breached.
The tip of Victor’s member was thankfully narrow, as it couldn’t have made its way inside her tense body otherwise. But it tapered off sharply, pushing her more and more open with each inch. The penetration was excruciatingly dry, her anus not made to welcome or withstand an invasion like that. Victor’s plasmatic form clearly wasn’t designed for it either.
“PLEA-ASE!” Agnes hollered as it pushed bowels-deep in her, forging ahead without pulling back. “SSSTOP!” Her pleading was as loud as she could make it, completely useless as it had no effect on the entity brutalizing her.
Victor’s phallus slid in further, Agnes sobbed. Her anus was stretched to its maximum around his now unbearable girth, burning fiercely as it was forced to accommodate him. She felt the burn intensify as her asshole ripped, but the blood unexpectedly gave her some relief as it lubricated her passage. She bent her knees, toes curling, and gritted her teeth. He was not stopping, not even when Agnes felt like he had penetrated her up to the stomach, each new inch pure agony.
Grunting against the pain, the tension, the effort, she could do no more than hold on as he impaled her further. Her face was a mess of tears and snot as she sobbed with abandon, her make-up ruined, splotchy and red from the torturous pain. Agnes squirmed in place, impaled on Victor’s plasma-cock like a dead butterfly on a needle under a glass display.
At last, Victor seemed pleased with the dept, because she felt her bowls and anus pull back as the phallus inside her retreated. Everything inside that had felt unbearably tight now was loose and aching, though not for long. Her moans were staccato yells of pain as he began thrusting, harder and harder, until she was bounding on his invisible cock. A doll for Victor to sodomize as he wished.
If only there was someone behind those cameras, the red dot staring at her. If only one of her lab friends, a co-worker, any of the security guys would come, would fight Victor or destroy him so that she could go. Agnes cried and struggled and stared at the nearest camera, pleading with her eyes and, when Victor’s thrusting permitted, with her voice.
But it was no use. There was no one watching.
*
There is now.
It’s a large group of people, mostly men, some women, all well-dressed in suits and pencil skirts, glasses and subtle, but expensive jewelry. It’s both a science meeting and a business meeting, all the leading scientists of the facility are here to explain and congratulate the investors in how successful their company has been. An important meeting held at least once a year.
They settle into their place for the presentation. The speaker talks passionately about the facility and dedicates a minute to mourn the loss they have had, their most brilliant scientist who unfortunately passed away on an accident. After, he gives the data, all the reasons why Victor might not truly be dead, and the investors are mesmerized. The scientists’ eyes glitter with satisfaction at a job well-done.
The presenter is called Mark. He’s a middle-aged, pudgy biologist that has been working here for decades. He’s experienced and confident at his job. The presentation is coming to an end, but they have a final video to show them.
“And here it is, ladies and gentleman, the most complete demonstration that the plasma retained memories from Victor’s life. You will be amazed by this data, I assure you.” He grins and presses play.
The image is not what he expected. Instead of a video of Victor’s plasmatic form picking up pictures that relate to the late scientist’s life, what Mark is met with is the sight of a young woman he recognizes immediately. Agnes. The shy, hard-working girl that began her career here as an intern and soon became a new hire. She’s naked, all exposed pale skin and rosy nipples, held up in the air by an invisible force.
The camera angle changes and Mark gasps out a startled breath. Agnes has always had a great butt, it was impossible not to notice how large it was in proportion to her small frame, how it bounced slightly when she walked, bubble-round and toned. Mark stares at it yet again, though in a way he never thought he would. At first, it looks like her anus is obscenely stretched, gaping, so much so that he can see her in her, the redness of her bowels exposed. It takes a moment for Mark to process the sight enough to understand that her anus is contracting and dilating; it’s being pushed further and further open, then allowed to retract back as something moves within it.
A barely-visible, but completely solid phallus, Mark realizes. Victor’s plasma cock. He hears a collective gasp as the audience must come to the same conclusion he just did. Without a word, he fumbles with the remote control and presses the off button as hard as he can. But the sound is suddenly turned on and they all can hear the gory details. Agnes’ desperate pleas for Victor to stop. Her pained grunts with every loud, wet thrust. The feminine, high-pitched screams when the plasma phallus goes even deeper. Mark’s cock twitches painfully in his pants as it gets fully hard in record time.
“Turn it off!” One of his female colleagues runs to the stage and rips the control off his hands.
“I-I can’t!” He defends himself.
The same way one can’t help but look at a car crash in the road, Mark turns to stare at the video. A young woman he has known for years is being raped. Brutally, painfully, as her face is screwed with pain, a mess of tears. He can see the blood on her ripped anus, flowing slowly between her thighs as Victor continues to rape her, merciless. Mark’s cock throbs inside him pants and he knows that if he were to touch himself, he would be coming in seconds.
“It’s not working, fuck!” The female co-worker throws the control away and strides towards the back, where she’s sure to find the electrical plug and end this in a few moments.
Mark doesn’t understand how this video ended up here; how no one in security saw this before today, how it was switched with the original one he intended the show. That’s, until he does. Victor must have done it. He has memories, yes, but his brutal rape of his rumored-girlfriend shows that he still has feelings as well. Warped, aggressive, but there. In plasma form, he wanted to violate his girl in such a way, and he wanted to be seen doing it.
The invisible phallus is pulled completely from Agnes’ body, which means that, for the first time, Mark can see its full size. It’s impossible, incredible, large enough that it could be deadly. It’s pushed inside her yet again, leaving Mark to marvel at it, at her. Just as the screen goes dark at last, his co-worker succeeding in her task, the older scientist realizes that he was entranced by Agnes’ ass rape like he hasn’t been by anything else in over a decade.
Still dizzy with arousal and scientific curiosity, he turns to find the audience in similar states of confusion, desire and shock. He knows he must go forward now, apologize, explain what little he can in order to save the project, hell, the company from ruin. Instead, he turns away, runs to the bathroom, and jerks one off to the memory of Agnes’ delightful grunts of agony as her anus was forced to take the largest phallus, immaterial or otherwise, that Mark has ever seen.
***
Please tell me what you think, what you think about the story. I would love to hear what you felt when reading this story.
1) Did you like the girl?
2) How do you think she feels about these events later?
3) How do you think did she deserve this?
4) What would you like to see happen to her next?
Please tell me:
5) what you liked the most?
6) what you disliked?
7) any suggestions to improve the story?