Xenofestation 2-05: Fallen Angel

By Paragonas Vaunt

It’s all-change, in deep space and on Earth, with new Xenoplantation Programme arrival Patience Mance and old hand Ornella Mito both diving in at the deep end with new partners for alien implantation. Deep-space scout Ortiz and stay-at-home speculator Athena Wrent both make choices leading to perilous new paths, and meanwhile Programme staff Dr Dexter and Steven Clegg both find themselves left with quite a mess to clean up...

Twelve women. Sixty aliens. One purpose. Xenofestation 2-05 - Fallen Angel is the latest exciting episode of a series of darkly erotic sci-fi adventures of oviposition and alien implantation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paragonas Vaunt
• Release date: Jun 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215590591

Paragonas Vaunt

Transgressive fiction with a dark & detailed undercurrent.The hottest stories. The twistiest tales.Whether you like your stories long and langorous, brief and breathless, or dark and dirty, come with me on a journey into the crooked world of filth maven Paragonas Vaunt.

Book preview

XENOFESTATION 2-05

~Fallen Angel~

Paragonas Vaunt

Copyright © 2023 Paragonas Vaunt

All rights reserved

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Reader Advisory

This is a work of erotic science fiction, and a very rude one at that. Intended exclusively for an adult audience, it graphically depicts scenes of a highly sexual nature and situations of peril/horror.

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Cuntent Check

Cunt Quotient: 12

Fuck Factor: 25

Cock Contingent: 8

Cover imagery by Celia McKinley

No part of this book or its accompanying artwork was created with the assistance of Artificial Intelligence (AI) tools or processes.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Table of Contents

Entry 2/05/A – Rewind

Entry 2/05/B – Circle of Fingers

Entry 2-05/C – Chastisy

Entry 2-05/D – Smashing the Paradigm

Entry 2-05/E – Cloud Cover

Entry 2-05/F – Shut-Down

Entry 2-05/G – Trackless

Entry 2-05/H – Found Out

Entry 2-05/I – Fallen Angel

Entry 2-05/J – Cross-Hatch

Entry 2-05/K – Cross-Purposes

Entry 2-05/L – A Shork Thang

Entry 2-05/M – One, Two, Three, Over

Entry 2-05/N – After-Image

Coming Next…

Note From The Author…

Hatching Now…

Connect With Paragonas Vaunt…

Entry 2-05/A – Rewind

Venus, Sol System

For countless centuries, Venus had appeared to the inhabitants of Earth as the brightest, most beguiling star in the sky. Man-made smog and man-made light pollution might have dimmed its natural glow over the years, but they had never entirely quenched it. Whether seen in its aspect as the Dawn Star or the Evening Star, Venus always gave the impression of being a cool white pearl, a serene point of calm.

Appearances could be misleading.

For Venus was in fact not a star but a planetary cauldron, its storm-wracked surface hotter even than Sun-skimming Mercury and crushed by atmospheric pressure to rival the deepest of Earth’s oceans. The earliest efforts to gain a foothold, constructed as humanity’s pioneers began reaching out with increasing confidence towards the tiny specks of light that danced around their sky, were battered, broiled, scalded by sulphurous fumes and plagued by the treacherous Slow Wind, which blew across the surface barely at walking pace but which carried the weight of a tidal wave. Humanity soon abandoned those first foolish attempts to build on Venus.

There were no second attempts.

But still a use was found for this unpromising world, as the inner planets’ dumping ground, as its burial pit. For while modern society recycled what it could, still there was waste that nobody dared to handle – too hazardous, too difficult, too controversial to do anything else with than find the deepest possible hole to throw it down.

So it all went to Venus.

You needed a permit to dump anywhere else in the solar system, even on what remained of Europa. Especially on Europa. But if you wanted to dump on Venus nobody asked questions.

Nobody cared.

Soon huge waste carriers, their grab-hooks dripping with chemical corrosion, their bluff hulls unpainted, because what paint could withstand the noxious out-gassing of the filth they carried, swung their creaking bulks as close as they dared to Venus’s maw. Deep enough into its grasp to make sure no scavenger could intercept the cargo before it hit atmo, there being no item so dangerous that somebody wouldn’t possibly try to steal it, one man’s trash being another’s treasure. And there, nearly skimming the cloud-tops, they would pivot slowly, releasing as they turned, letting the waste go ballistic. Then they would pour on the power and roar away, leaving the cargo to plunge into the lead-smelting crucible of Venus’s gravity well.

Venus took it all.

So much toxic, radioactive and biological waste over the years that the atmosphere was now starting to fulminate, to burn, man-made climate change displayed in fiery pockets of spontaneous combustion and hemisphere-spanning lightning storms.

Venus had once been inhospitable, but now it was hell. A beautiful, shining hell.

A hell where you sent something when you wanted to make absolutely, completely sure it could never come back.

Silent and serene from afar, a searing maelstrom up close, Venus kept the secrets of the solar system.

Venus waited.

Station INF3, Lagrange Point 5 in Venus orbital shell

Even at the best of times, Diane Scott didn’t really like having Dexter in her medical suite, and this was far from the best of times.

At the best of times she got the feeling he was always examining her work spaces, looking for things to criticise, to comment on or meddle in even when he didn’t really understand what she did or how she worked. Quite apart from that, the medical suite was where she prepped the participants for implantation sessions, where she counselled them and treated them afterwards. At the worst of times, Dexter seemed almost wilfully not to understand the confidentiality and privacy issues.

The issue of the naked women, for example.

She watched him pause to take in the sight.

Right now there were two women in the regen tubes. Both were sedated, suspended unconscious within the glowing blue fluid, unclothed and unaware they were being watched.

Dexter’s eyes flickered over Tali Slater, a new participant who had recently returned from her first implantation session. Then he moved on to Beatriz Ruiz.

She wasn’t a participant in the Xenoplantation Programme at all, but an eighteen year-old farm girl from Agrarius who had been brought in by Ortiz, the Programme’s chief collector of xeno species. The world she’d once called home had suffered a xenobiological collapse after some hitherto-dormant local hive species had awoken and started attacking the settler community. She had arrived at the station with a new and uncatalogued type of drop crab smothering her head and with its embryo in her womb. Diane had removed both, and put her in the regen tank while they decided what to do next.

And while she plucked up courage to explain to the girl that all her family were gone, consumed in the mass digestion pit the creature had sunk into the arid soil of that inhospitable world.

Can’t you get her out of there? Dexter said, staring at the scar the attack had left around Beatriz’s neck.

When his gaze dropped lower, Diane interposed herself between him and the girl.

She needs a little more time to recover, she lied, and then she can come out. Slater is nearly done, though.

"Well,