Close Encounters of the 3rd cock - Love, and alien anal probes. (Futa / Male)

My second try at this. Maybe I’ll start to get better, who knows. The story so far is comprised of a few journal entrees. The basis is a little cheesy, as is the story, but that didn’t stop me :D

Warning: Contains (alien) futa on male, rape, excessive cum, inflation, guro (some gore, but no death).

My name is Jim, I’m 35 and divorced, and I live in a tiny town just north of Anchorage called Wasilla, where I work on an advisory committee at a local branch of the Alaska USA Federal Credit Union. In other words my job is utter bullshit, but I digress. For the past month I have been plagued by a series of vivid nightmares. The exhaustion that I’ve been experiencing throughout the day has taken a toll on my job performance, so I have started seeing a therapist to help me work through this problem. His first suggestion was that I begin a dream journal to start logging my experiences. While I still have my doubts and tend to think this whole part of my “therapy” is a bag of malarkey, my psychologist was correct on one account. I tend to have a better recollection of events immediately after waking. Either way, I figure that at the very least this exercise couldn’t hurt, but if it helps me pinpoint the problem, all the better.

First entry: Feb 8, 2012

The time is 4:45AM, Wednesday morning. I just woke up about 10 minutes ago, and I’m still not fully awake. I'm groggy, my sheets are soaked in sweat, I feel like I'm running a little hot, and I feel like a bag of assholes. It took a few minutes just to gather my wits enough to find my laptop and open Word. The last thing I remember is a foot.

I was lying face up on a cold table, and though I don’t explicitly remember seeing any restraints, I was nonetheless paralyzed. What I do remember was commotion. Blurry figures were hastily moving around above me, but I couldn't seem to focus on any of them long enough to figure out what they were doing or why they were there. I felt like I was just waking from a deep coma, my level of awareness and ability for comprehension had certainly seen better days. The little focus that I could muster was soon directed at my immediate situation. Along with my disorientation, I had an overwhelming sense of dread, and, well, fullness. I was already full and getting fuller. That was the first physical sensation that registered. I felt myself growing in a most nonsensical way. Nerve endings somewhere within my core were awakening to an unfamiliar bloating sensation, stirring my insides as if I'd chugged a couple liters of cream soda to wash down a box of alka seltzer. It continued for what could have been moments or an eternity, my sense of passing time was also amiss. Imminently, the “growing” feeling reached a painful threshold, and all at once, the surmounting pressure was modulated by a new sensation of dull, warm pain. That’s when I looked down to locate the