Xenofestation 3-03: The Chase

By Paragonas Vaunt

Secrets and lies pile up for Dr Dexter, as the fallout from events occurring far beyond the walls of his secret deep-space facility threaten the smooth running of his Xenoplantation programme.

Meanwhile, adult video celebrity Ornella Mito and investigative reporter Madi Dowd search for clues closer to home, while longtime participants Amber Codrington and Tali Slater both run into old friends...

Twelve women. Sixty aliens. One purpose. Xenofestation 3-03 - The Chase is the thrilling climax to the third season of darkly humorous erotic sci-fi adventures of oviposition and alien implantation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paragonas Vaunt
• Release date: Apr 12, 2024
• ISBN: 9798215643365

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 3-03

~THE CHASE~

Paragonas Vaunt

Copyright © 2024 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.

Please click here for more information or scan the code below.

Cuntent Check

Cunt Quotient: 62

Fuck Factor: 83

Cock Contingent: 115

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.

SERIES NOTE

This is just one episode of a long-running series that forms a continuous narrative. If you happen to have stumbled across this book fresh, you’ll have missed a lot of story and the contents of the book here are not going to make much sense. The start of the journey is here -

Xenofestation 1-01 - Amber Alert

Or for the bargain-price omnibus edition containing the first six complete episodes, go here -

Xenofestation Sequence 1 - Principia Germinis

Have fun checking out the start of the story, and we’ll meet back here for more adventures when you’re ready…

Table of Contents

Entry 3-03/A - The Agony of Ecstasy

Entry 3-03/B - Gassing

Entry 3-03/C - Mine Now

Entry 3-03/D - Give or Take

Entry N-0N/E - Oh

Entry 3-03/F - Instinct

Entry 3-03/G - The Chase

Entry 3-03/H – Invitation

Entry 3-03/I - Ready

Entry 3-03/J – Golly Miss Molly

Entry 3-03/K – Raw

Entry 3-03/L - Four and Six Makes Ten

Epilogue – Nerve

Coming Next…

Note From The Author…

Hatching Now…

Connect With Paragonas Vaunt…

Entry 3-03/A - The Agony of Ecstasy

Elsewhere

Even when she was alone, she was not alone.

Even when the Presence was not coiling itself amongst her thoughts, she could still feel it. Indeed, how could it be any other way? It was part of her and she of it. And even when she tried to convince herself she couldn’t feel it, that the cold fingers rummaging through her memories were just a figment of her imagination, the shiver of somebody walking over her grave, she was still not alone. For always she could sense the fragments.

The souls.

Countless individual lives, past and present and perhaps future too, sifting through the aether like pollen on the breeze. She could weigh the sum of their existence, start to end, and she could hear the passage of their final moments, each and every one. The screams. The pleas for help that wouldn’t come in time. Cries of anger and despair. Grieving parents and partners. Weeping children. Last goodbyes, cut short before they could be uttered.

They flowed over her, past her, through her. All those lives, grains of sand sifting through her fingers, stones rattling on a tin bath, but also not like that at all. There were too many to grasp so much as a fraction of them, and she didn’t know if she should even try, whether it was right or wrong to stop them pouring away, evaporating as if they had never been.

Maybe it was what they were supposed to do. Maybe she was supposed simply to watch them, to know that they’d been, and gone, and bear witness to their passing.

Sometimes, she wondered whether people would be so careless with their allotted time if they truly knew how fragile life was.

Somehow, she doubted it.

Somewhere, two women died.

In a rubbery shell, a soap bubble shiny and fragile as the husk of her own mind, they breathed their last. Just two among the many, so many, bright burning fragments flickering out beneath a cold, unfeeling night sky, little firefly souls so fierce and free and destined to be forgotten.

For some reason she could not explain, she couldn’t let them go. Not them. So she reached out and plucked them, those two of all the countless motes, and held them in the cradle of her mind’s eye.

Somebody should be there to mark their passing, them of all the others. Maybe she could hold them in her heart, remember them always, and if she remembered them they wouldn’t ever truly be gone.

She felt their spark. Their fire.

Their hearts were pure, if godless, and that gave her pause, partly because the idea didn’t make any sense, and partly because she wasn’t used to being able to know the grace of a soul with such clarity.

She didn’t want to think about how they’d died.

Screaming, not in pain but in an agony of ecstasy, their souls singing with it even as they were sundered from their corporeal bodies.

It was an unseemly death. Undignified, and ungodly too. Certainly it was worse than dying in an agony of agony.

What they’d felt, what they’d gone through, she simply didn’t understand, and she didn’t want to. But she knew they hadn’t deserved to die.

So she found them a little corner to be, here, in the place that had always been. By the side of the blue lake, beneath the trees.

Selfish, she knew, to keep them from dissolution. But she held them and kept them safe anyway.

Station INF3, Lagrange Point 5, Venus orbital shell

How much do you want?

Ornella Mito grinned.

All of it, she answered.

Oscar Ogwaye laid the smoky spit-slicked length of his meatpipe cock onto her naked belly, his fat balls resting warm upon the peak of her mound, the crown of his glistening, rounded glans reaching almost to her ribcage. Her jaw ached – but in a good way – from trying to take it, her tongue tingled with the memory of it.

This might hurt a bit, he warned, drawing his length slowly back, easing the tip down toward her entrance.

Ornella shivered in anticipation.

It better, she replied.

Oh but she loved Oscar’s dick. It was just the right amount of too much, and boy did the boy know how to use the thing. He wasn’t showy or boastful either. She loved that about him, how he reacted when she coaxed him to let loose. Almost innocent.

But then, when he did let loose…

Unlike almost every other guy she’d ever met, Oscar was completely unfazed by Ornella’s fame, almost as if the godlike status of his dick cancelled out her celebrity. If anything, she was over-awed by him. When she’d first stripped the security guard uniform off his muscle-packed body and seen the cock she had to work with, her jaw had dropped and her mouth had watered and she’d said wow in a small, half-disbelieving voice, like it was her first time all over again. And, ever since, she and Oscar had been playfully competitive about the outsize length and girth of that cock, how much he would give and how much she could take.

The very first time they’d fucked, he’d told her, in all seriousness, say when…, before carefully and considerately easing himself into a cunt in which his cock felt natural and utterly right even as she gasped at how much it stretched her. The gasp had been all Ornella had answered him with. She had steadfastly never said when, not even when the rounded head of his deep-thrust cock was butted firmly up against the highest reach of her cunt, at which point she’d said, her eyes watering but with a cheeky, challenging smile too, Is that all you’ve got?

And he’d laughed, and she’d seen his jaw set firm in a way that seemed to say, Okay then, I’ll show you what I’ve got, and then they’d set about breaking the bed, together, using her fuck-soaked body as the hammer.

Each and every time since that first night, Oscar had made a point of asking her how much she was able to take, and she’d made a point of showing him she could take all of it.

Each and every time.

Now, as Oscar shifted, sliding downwards, and the shaft of his cock drew back over her peak, down the cleft of her, Ornella could see it pick up yet more of a glisten on its underside where her warm and welcoming labia kissed it. Then he was sliding upwards again, using his stiffness to rub her, to tease her with the heft and the heave of it. And now she was lifting one leg higher, to give him more room, and he was digging the head of his cock firmer into her furrow, digging and pulling back, a little deeper each time, and deeper still, like it would be the most natural thing in the world if one time it just happened to slip in. As if it could ever be so easily eased into her that it wouldn’t make her gasp as it popped her resistance, though it had every time before.

And though Ornella wanted that more than almost anything, to feel