Alien Sex Fiend

So you’re taping this, aren’t you? Thought so. This some sorta government thing? Maybe I’ll write to my congressman and complain.

Guess not.

Okay, where to begin? I could tell you how I joined the Sect, learned about the beauty of the Goddess and how She seeks to uplift us all through the Tape... but you don’t care about that, do you? Fucks. All you care about is that fucking alien.

We’re a million strong, you know that? You don’t know just how many people have seen the Tape, who’ve seen the truth and felt their inner sensuality quicken and awaken. We’re everywhere.

So this guy – I’m sure you know his name – worked for the government. Probably the same office you jerks work for. He saw the Tape, he saw the Goddess, and he joined us. Eventually, he told us about the aliens. About how you people were hiding the things that crashed at Roswell.

And we felt the Goddess’ hand upon our shoulder.

You ever see any of the Goddess’ films? No? You’re lying. I can smell your hard-ons whenever I speak of Her. But that’s good; everyone should see Her work.

Anyway, She once did this film called Alien Probe, where She gets fucked by Greys. Not a real alien, of course; it was some John Holmes cock-alike in a costume. No one could recreate it properly, because the cock died a few years after making it. So it was untapped, prime for communing with Her essence.

We talked about it, and realized that if we used a real alien, we’d be going further than anyone ever had before. To channel the Goddess, but to go beyond the compromise She’d made in life – to do it for real. Do you understand? More real than real.

Yeah, kinda like the White Zombie song. Fuckwit. Just shut up and let me get on with this, okay? Then you can shoot me in the head or whatever it is you plan to do.

So, anyway, we work out a plan. Our inside man told us about the security you had on the alien, and we figured we could get past it with enough preparation. We went in there with a pile of guns we got from the True Order, and with so much tantric energy I still had jizz running down my leg. We busted in, we got a Grey, and we got out.

Bet that scared your bosses, didn’t it? A pack of heavily armed porn actors going further than Mulder and Scully ever did.

We took the Grey back to the temple and locked it up for a while. Shit, that thing was weird. Didn’t talk, didn’t move, just blinked occasionally, and smelled funny. But I wanted it, deep inside. I thought it must be the Goddess, speaking throu8gh me, urging me to consummate Her ritual. Huh. Shows what I know.

We did our research into Alien Probe – where it was shot, who was in it, watched the video like a million times. So we carted the Grey over to the original set in San Francisco and tried to get to work. But the alien didn’t want to co-operate. For a while, we didn’t even think it had a cock, you know? Like maybe we got the female of the species, which would have been a disaster, ‘cause there weren’t any les scenes in the script.

Eventually, we used the Goddess power to turn the thing on, and that worked. Fuck, did it ever work. That alien would have humped a chair if it had to; must have been the first time it had ever been horny, and it wanted it bad. Maybe that’s what made things go wrong – all that lust and fuckheat in something not built to contain it. It all spilled out.

The shoot went well, real well. That Grey banged me like I was the last piece of ass in the world. I was in communion most of the time, making sure I moved as the Goddess did, but not so much that I couldn’t tell what was happening on set. Eggs spontaneously hatched, all the radios played nothing but Marvin Gaye, and vaginas spoke in tongues. All around, the presence of the Goddess was manifest, filling the air with musk and peppermint.

Then the alien came and everything turned to shit.

That fucking thing pumped a bucketload of black seed into me. It felt like swamp water – with live tadpoles. That shit was alive. It moved through me and came out of my fucking mouth. And while I was stuck on the alien’s cock, the other Goddess arrived.

Shub-Niggurath. The Black Goat. The hermaphrodite Beast that fucks Itself. Oh yes, I know Her name; it’s etched across my womb by the acid spunk of Her puppet. I can still taste Her cum in my mouth, and I will until I die.

Which I hope is soon.

All the lucky ones on set died straight away, their minds dissolving, their bodies rupturing like overripe fruit under the sick fertility of Her sight. I survived because of what was inside me, because of the thing that was still humping me. I survived because She wants me to bear Her hybrid child.

That’s the only reason why She let you find me, why She directed you to the set. It’s the only reason my mind wasn’t rendered down to porridge like everyone else. Because She wants to see what’s going to claw its way out of my womb some day.

The Goddess, the Naked Goddess, She won’t save me. I’m tainted now by Her diseased counterpart; I’m territory, won by the other side in war. But She will take Her revenge one day. Think about that next time you’re getting your ashes hauled.

So. Have you got what you wanted now? You got your alien back, you got to slaughter some sect members, and now you know the score.

I can feel it inside me now. Listening. I hear it talk in my sleep, singing. Ia! Ia! Shub-Niggurath!

So are you going to kill me now?

Please?