Chapter Text
The writhing mass of verdant tendrils, slick-green in appearance, complete with their own, squealing maws, veiled together in a network, spiralling upwards from the source of its mimicry: a beautiful blonde pictured in a modelling magazine. The stray dossier of peak human femininity was left discarded in the city park, allowing the otherworldly invertebrate to happen across it by chance. She - Serleena, a Kylothian ruler from the darkest regions of intergalactic space - studied the form of a scantily-clad blonde, pale in appearance, soft and supple in all the right areas, yet still lithe and toned, carrying a slender, almost regal frame that exuded confidence. Revealing a series of tendrils from her original maw, they complained and whined about as they coiled to and fro, slowly filling the air above with the developing canvas of an irresistible woman. A pair of long, silky legs were formed, glossy in appearance, almost everlasting in their desirable lengths, followed by a narrow waist, decorated with frilly, black lingerie. The tendrils writhed and meshed together to form her lovely midriff, complete with an exposed navel, quivering in the low light of the park’s street-lights. Toned, yet soft abdominals curved to reveal her chest; where a pair of plump, generous mammary glands revealed themselves, mirrored perfectly in the model depicted on the page below. They were wrapped in matching lingerie, though the sensual coverings were soft, jet-black and framed her cleavage perfectly - to the point no man could dare resist her.
As the transformation neared completion, Serleena’s final squeals could be heard emanating deep within the shiny, new wrapper she fitted herself with. It was heavenly on the outside, and as the tendrils disappeared to make way for strands of lush, dirty-blonde locks, her eyes opened for the first time. The sparkling, almost hypnotic green orbs absorbed the primitive, backwater planet, carrying their own, erotic appeal - the promise of something sweeter. Yet, as an unfortunate assailant was about to discover - holding an edged-weapon to her bare throat and granting her a lap of his tongue - they also betrayed the predatory intent lurking just below the surface. Hey, pretty thing…you taste good. His voice filled her senses as she struggled to comprehend what was transpiring, before making sense of the situation, turning it to her advantage, even as he whisked her away into the cover of the nearby bushes. A series of slimy, crackling echoes rang out across the park, heralding the extension of Serleena’s true form, revealing itself for a fraction of a second to engulf the unsuspecting human. He was swallowed in a flurry of guttural, sticky slops, as Serleena revealed herself from the shadows, licking her lips and sucking on her digits. Her voice was like silk; so utterly seductive and ethereal in its quality, besting the femme fatales who came before her.
Yeah…you too…She purred, pausing to gaze at her bloated gut. A swishing, stretched stomach left her undeniably satisfied, but her newfound weight failed to honour the fair depiction in the magazine. Grumbling to herself as she regarded her swelling gut, the imprint of her prey’s hand appearing for a fleeting moment, before a series of squelching slicks drew it away, Serleena reluctantly returned to the scene of the crime. Unveiling her Kylothian oesophagus, the slimy, sticky form of her victim, drained of its nutritional value, spilled out over the dewy grass. It was unceremonious in nature, but as the Kylothian swayed her pert bottocks, a pair of leather clothes in her possession, her objective outweighed any sense of ravenous hunger. The Light of Zartha would be hers , and the one responsible for her humiliation would pay dearly. He would reveal its location, aiding the Kylothian Empire to destroy the Zarthans once and for all, or she would have to satisfy her eternal hunger once more.
“Silly little planet,” Serleena sighed, admiring the clean, brushed polish of her dainty nails, “a Queen could rule the place with the right set of mammary glands.” As she let her silky, seductive tones filter across MIB headquarters, the leather-clad villainess strode beyond the plexiglass, where her victims were imprisoned. A maze of her tendrils - independent of the source - writhed languidly, casually, purposefully as they submerged a number of MIB agents in their ceaseless folds. The tendrils consumed them, keeping them pinned in place, unable to move due to the sheer weight and volume of the living, extraterrestrial vines, tying them together as they were forced to admire her shapely behind. Serleena wrapped herself in a simple, leather biker’s jacket, complete with her lingerie undergarments, heeled-boots, shimmering in the white, soft light, and her pale, unblemished skin dazzling as did her full, ruby lips. It was her eyes, full of sensual vigour, that drove those exposed to her constant affections , mad with lust.
No one would have anticipated the resistance, as Agent K revealed himself, challenging her for control of MIB headquarters. He was handsome enough; young and chiselled, narrow but broad at the shoulders where it counted. Serleena, however, would not be deceived. Before he could even gain access to Z’s office to retrieve the codes for the Zarthan safe-box, a series of writhing tendrils whisked through the air, catching him off-guard. They rapidly swirled and coiled like snakes, binding his arms to his sides, squealing in excitement.
“Nice to see you again, K,” Serleena oozed with venom in her tone, half-smiling, eyes decorated with inky, glittery eye-shadow lidded with seductive intent. Her tendrils grew in thickness, adopting a newfound weight as they enveloped the young agent, drawing him close, but keeping him a fair distance from the yummy source.
“I should’ve vaporised you when I had the chance ,” K protested, his voice feeble and yielding to her alien charms, admiring the new coating she doused herself with. Desirable, divine - dangerous. “If you think I’ll willingly surrender the Zarthan’s soul, you’re sadly - ”
“ - Shhhh…” The Kylothian sighed , letting her feminine allure wash over him in wave after wave of erotic intent, “hearing you speak so candidly of the dear Zarthans…” Her tendrils, relaxed in their motions, recognising the form they ensnared in their evergreen clutches, slowly undulated through the air as the black-leather-clad ‘woman’ approached, taking gradual, heel-clicking steps towards her captive. “...You really did love Laurana, didn’t you, K?” It was impossible to deny the enviable cut of her full cleavage as the proximity was closed, becoming ever more intimate with each, tempting syllable that slipped off those kissable, scarlet lips, “you silly little maaaannn… ” Her voice bathed his senses in a hot flood of adrenaline, originating from his beating heart. Serleena tilted her head, angling it away from his eyeline, her breath catching over his cheek, before teasing at his ear. Her tongue, mammalian in appearance at first, tasted his sensitive canal, tantalising the fine, white hairs residing within, before it morphed into another, squealing tendril, his eyes rolling into the back of his head from the sheer, overwhelming pleasure. The slimy, sticky cacophony of her tongue slipped over his cheek as she tasted him, the assailing force of multiple tendrils watching their ‘mother’ enjoy her handiwork.
There was sexual tension between them, despite K’s remarks. “I’ll…give you one last chance to surrender you slimy, Kylothian inv - ”
“ - Surrender - to you?” Serleena narrowed her gaze, directing all her attention squarely on his features, the distance between them a mere width of a hair follicle. She whispered, softly, suggestively. “I can’t forget how wonderful it was the first time. How you dissolved at the mere sight of me, your strong, masculine persona utterly defeated by the yummy, delectable, leather-bound wrapper you see before you.” As she spoke, Serleena cupped his chin, the tendrils forming a living cocoon around his suit-clad form, though some managed to slip beneath the garments to tease his rapidly heating body. “Accept it, K. You’ve lost. Twenty-five years of my time and for what - the complete and total annihilation of Zartha, all because you went mushy…” Serleena edged closer still, her vermillion, desirable lips parting slightly to reveal that dastardly tongue of hers, ripe for the tasting, a part of him wanting nothing more than to feel it inside his mouth, locking with his own, dexterous taster. She moaned under her breath, the sexual tension thicker than the maze of tendrils that trapped his respective colleagues, and smooched her full lips against his own.
Black-painted fingernails deftly played with his features, the electrical sparks of shared intimacy short-lived. Serleena smiled through the artificial union of clashing, mammalian lips, as her stomach rumbled. Her darlings needed satisfaction. For the best part of three decades they’d yearned for K - the one that got away. And as she pried the Zarthan key from his pocket, she knew her victory was all but secured. Accepting the inevitable, Serleena began her dance with the fates. Peeling her lips away from his own, saliva glimmering in her mouth, her entire person began to expand and grow. K struggled through his own, budding arousal as his pores opened, and he watched as Serleena’s extended maw wrapped around the top of his head. She absorbed him like a cell, though akin to a great serpent, or carnivorous plant, the inner-tendrils wrapping and pulling him into the ravenous vacuum. It unfolded like a flower, the petals (tendrils) brushing over him, guiding him closer to the sweet, nectary source: her belly. His legs flailed weakly as his moans echoed from within her gullet, feet twitching as the sensation of being devoured alive by this space-faring goddess finished him off. In ways that only a primitive mammal could understand, K let loose, though that only served to add to the taste as Serleena mused. So yummy…someone I simply had to eat…
The trapped, faintly spasming form of K bound within her bloated gut could be seen from the outside. Serleena let a dainty hand rest across it, stroking gently, smiling evilly to herself, content in her victory, however temporary it was. The taste, as she closed her eyes, grumbling under her breath as she tasted her flexible digits, was addictive. Soon the world would fall to her designs, her devious tapestry of vore.