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ALIEN STORY-5a

Written by Ruthless

Again. Oh God, No. Not again. Darren was going to turn me over to the Darloxians and let them fuck me again. After the man had gone the horror resounded through me in waves. The last time it had happened I had not believed it could happen. The last time I had cringed helplessly. This time desperation sang through me like adrenaline. It was only a few moments after my kidnapper had gone that I began to crawl.

With my wrists and ankles tied I could not crawl normally, of course, but I could hump forward using my chest and my knees. I slithered this way to the door and half way up the door. I used my face to work the control panel, pushing the split in my mouth against my teeth as found the button. I toppled into the corridor and snaked inch by inch down the glassy smooth white floor.

I had no coherent ideas. I was thinking of finding an airlock and opening it. The airlocks would lead only to the eternal emptiness of outer space that surrounded the ship. If I opened an airlock I would die. But even as I crawled desperately creeping on my belly, I knew that the airlocks would be tightly sealed, locked for safety against accidental depressurization. There would be no way for me to open one if I even made it that far. I wasn't committing myself to suicide, only to any alternative at all except what I faced.

I never reached an airlock. I found a partially open panel instead. The panel in the wall was near to Darren's door. It was held askew over a maintenance duct by a single tab. There had been work in progress just inside the duct and the panel had been put replaced improperly. It had sharp edges. I grated the rope from my wrists and ankles with the edge, forced my clumsy numb hands to unfasten the tab and got inside the duct.

I had thought it would be dark inside but it was not. Little white working lights gleamed in the ceiling when I slithered into the narrow space, reacting with their motion sensors. It was a narrow space but it was also long. It went in two directions over cables and strange angular protrusions. It was only two feet wide but it was three feet high. I started crawling on hands and knees.

If I could only get beyond the tentacles; that was all I cared about. It did not matter what would happen then. I could die of thirst curled up somewhere at the end of the duct, or the Darloxians could vent toxic algae into it so that the poisonous green cells seared my lungs and smothered me. I crawled slowly deeper. I was quivering with hope. The duct did not end near the panel. Even the longest reaching tentacle could not follow me into my hiding place.

It was just as well that the duct was too low for me to stand, because I wasn't fit to walk. I was like a half-crushed insect. I felt something fluid moving inside my bowel. My activity had started a thick fluid flowing. I'm shitting myself, I thought at the sickening sensation. I knew that my ruined sphincter had been so torn that it would hold nothing in. The fluid slimed out onto my thighs.

I looked back at myself in disgust. Feces would have been bad enough, but I was hoping I would not see mucus. I looked in hopes that the discharge would not be show signs of the semen that the horrible aliens had polluted me with. It was not white or clear muck, but thick soft globs of red coagulated blood. It was blood clots passing out of me.

When I saw the blood I looked farther back. I was leaving little smears, small traces of red on the shiny white floor of the duct. But the Darloxians could not get into the duct and see it. They would only be able to trace me if they had the sensors to calculate where I was in their ship.

It was a labyrinth. In one section it was quite narrow and I climbed. There were pipes placed so that it would have been easy if I had had my own strength. But it was narrow so that I could brace myself against both sides as I climbed and so I made it a few yards up and into where the passage continued.

It was wide where it dead-ended, but it was a tangle of pipes, ducts and wire bundles. They were labeled in Darloxian script. The area was the size of a room, with a ceiling high enough to stand. The floor vibrated and so did one wall. There was machinery below, heavy machinery at work that made the surface below me warm. I could not go on so I stopped here, pressed flat to the floor behind the pipes, taking comfort from the warmth.

They won't be able to get at me through the machinery, I reassured myself. Even if they know where I am, they won't be able to move it or cut through it. I can hide here. Nothing but a human could get into this place.

And then I thought in despair: Darren. The hijacker could come into this place. He could follow the trails of blood I had left. He was going to find me.

I laid my head down hopelessly on the warm floor and waited and gathered my strength.

It seemed quite awhile later that he came. The lights that marked movement in the duct were my warning. I didn't try to move. I was wedged in behind the pipes. That was the farthest that I could go. Darren moved steadily towards me. I could not see him until he came into the area where the warm vibration of the machinery was like a heart beat. He knew exactly which direction to look.

I expected rage. The man's eyes were fiercely bright but a lopsided smile twisted his face. "Trying to play hard to get, Sweetheart?" He suggested jauntily. "Is this your way of making me work for my pleasure?"

"Leave me alone." My voice came out weak. The man clambered over the pipes, getting nearer and nearer. When he stopped he could have reached out and grabbed me but he didn't reach out or draw a weapon. He just grinned.

"Now, why did you think that that sneaking off here would help you?"

"I just wanted to get away."

"Be a good little piece of space-trash, Iver, and come home." He advised me.

"No, thanks..." I answered him back with some of the jocularity that he was aiming at me. I was breathless. He stayed amused.

"My Darloxians miss you, Iver." Said Darren. "They want to play some more."

"They play too rough."

"Sure looks like it." Darren agreed. Some of his smile left. "C'mon you stupid cunt, what did you think, My Darloxians wouldn't know exactly where to find you?"

"No." I said. "I figured Hurlock Sholmes would track me down. I just hoped I'd bleed to death first."

Darren hesitated. Perhaps my pun confused him. His words lacked inflection. "Of course Hurlock found you. He's dying to get his prick up your sloppy fuck tunnel one last time. He likes you too much to let you die all alone in here."

"Yeah, I was afraid of that." My voice was little and reedy.

Darren reached out. He grabbed me then. He took me by the leg and started pulling. He had the strength to drag me out of the pipes but I was twisted in them, my forearm turned sideways between the wall and one of the wider pipes. My arm caught and it stopped him.

"Let go," he advised "Or it'll break your arm."

"No." I said.

He was nonplussed. He hesitated yet again before he shrugged. "Then I'll break it."

I didn't turn my shoulder and try to ease my arm out. I laid still in the pipes that twisted over me. Actually he had plenty of options. If he didn't want to break my arm, he could have gone around and kicked it out from the other side. But Darren didn't move.

"You know," He said. "You are the most fucking stupid human, I've ever met, not just the ugliest."

"Darren..." A tremble had come into my voice. "Please, Sir. Don't let the Darloxians fuck me again."

He scowled. His words were mocking "But they love you, Iver, even if you are just a sloppy little fuckhole. They want you."

"Please Darren." I said. "Please kill me. I know I'm going to die from what they're doing. Please kill me instead."

His face went expressionless. "Kill you? You want me to be kind to you and put a bullet through your brain?"

"Please, Yes."

"No." he said. "You disgust me so much that I want to see them hurt you."

"Then, please..." My voice was vibrating with tears. "Kill me afterwards, if I survive it. Please. It hurts so much and they like it hurting me."

He moved forward teeth bared. He gripped my leg again. "Listen space-whore! Where do you get off asking for mercy? You think you deserve it? Do you? Fuck you, do you?"

"No." I wept. "But it hurts. It hurts!"

He took a grip on me and he pulled on me, not just on my leg. He climbed up on the pipe on top of me and he punched me and pulled at me.

"Come to Daddy, Little Boy!" He sang out. "Here, Here, Here. Fuck you!" Punching, he pried me loose. I did not have the strength to keep gripping. He dragged me about until he was straddling me instead of the pipe. His mood was so different from earlier. Even when he got angry he seemed close to laughing. He flopped on top of me and laid his hand on my penis.

I winced. He didn't hit but the tissue was so bruised that he might just as well have. He curled his warm hard palm around it and squeezed lightly. "You cowardly little fuck-hole whore! What's the matter? Don't you like it? Don't you?"

"No!" I tried to keep my arms between him and me. I could not keep him from squeezing on my prick, but I instinctively raised my hands to shield my face. "No, I don't like it. Please, please no more!"

"But you do like it, Cunty!" He bounced on me eagerly. "I know you do. I saw the way you went at my cock. You're hungry for it!"

"Don't hurt me!"

He was getting angrier. With his teeth bared, he pried my arms easily open and pinned them back. "Cocksucker! What's the matter with you? Can't take a little Darloxian cock? Think you're too good to give my friends a little bit of pleasure?"

He had a hard on. I could tell that he did. He was bouncing up and down on me to rub his cock against my belly. My guts were so sore that it was agony. He wasn't being really cruel, like when he had slapped my face so carefully and thoughtfully. He was just being exuberant. Only I was in no shape to take rough handling. I groaned with the effort to breathe.

He leaned forward and down like he was going to kiss me. "God, are you ugly!" He breathed. "I can't believe how ugly you are. Have you any idea what you look like? Your asshole is big enough to take a rocket launcher. I could fit my fist up there! You are so gross!"

Then he did start laughing but it didn't sound like laughter. It was gasping sounds like he was struggling with something. "Aw fuck, Little Boy. I don't believe you actually can take a Darloxian cock up your ass. Neaf got himself right up inside you. Inside!"

He reached behind himself and took my penis again. He began to pull on it in a parody of a caress, tugging slowly and insistently. "One last fuck, Human. You brought it on yourself. Four two foot long Darloxian cocks and my fist and then I'll let you die. I like you, Iver. You know that? I bet you don't believe it. I wish you were pretty enough to keep you for my own. But you're not pretty. It makes me want to puke, just to touch you."

With his knees on the ground he rubbed the front of his trousers from side to side against my ribs. He was humping me like that. His eyes were on my chest. He took my swollen nipple between his finger and thumb.

My nipple was incredibly tender. It was wet from the seepage where I had been stung. It was a dark angry pink colour that stood up like a misshapen parody of a woman's breast. He pinched the nipple and I groaned. He squeezed it tighter and tighter until a ragged hoarse, inhuman sound came out of my throat. When he stopped he raised his hand in front of my face and it was wet. He had been squeezing the fluid out. He showed me his moist palm.

"Just be glad I'm kind to you, Iver." He said. "I could do far worse. You know that? You want to die? Alright, then I'm going to kill you." Once more he laughed. "You deserve that. Fuck, how I want you to die. I want you to be dead so badly that I can hardly stand it."

Darren got off of me. I had no more strength to move. The feeble struggle I had made and the crawl into the hiding place had taken it from me. I didn't know if his promise was worth anything. He had said he would kill me, but perhaps another alien rape would kill me. Perhaps he was lying to me.

"Poor little boy, Iver." He said. "One last fuck and you die. Just one more fuck for me and the cocksucking space prostitute can be retired." He unzipped and showed me his cock. It was rigid hard and dark with the engorgement. Kneeling beside me, he stroked it across my belly.

He moved down and took my legs, levering them wide with both his hands so that there was room for him to kneel between them. He pushed my legs back. He kept his eyes fixed on me and started to jerk himself off. "You suck cock so good." He said softly. "You suck me like nobody ever sucked me. Oh, fuck what a sweet mouth you got. You've got the sweetest mouth in the galaxy. Yeah, Iver. I won't hurt you. I'm just going to put a bullet in you, that's all. Don't you be afraid, little baby. I'm going to make it stop hurting."

He placed his cock against mine to jerk himself off. He was making them both tremble as his fingers slid back and forth. He rubbed the head of his cock against my big, darkly swollen balls.

"Poor little cock.' He said. "So bruised up. What did you do, fight them? You shouldn't have fought my Darloxians and made it hard for them."

"I couldn't fight them." I said. "Four Darloxians against me? I couldn't do anything."

"You must have made them mad." His voice was still gentle. "Don't make the Darloxians mad. They're good people. They took care of me."

He went on masturbating. He kept rubbing it against my penis and balls and there was really no pain. He didn't talk any more. His breath came faster and his eyes narrowed. He rubbed harder. His hand began to really fly up and down. He was pushing toward me as close as he could. I lay passively. His clothes were in the way and he yanked at them roughly so that he could get at his prick, but he didn't touch me roughly.

At the last moment he bent over me and caught one of my legs. A trembling cry of fear came out of me as he pushed my leg back and held me open. There was an instant of searing agony as the head of his prick grounded at the wound but he didn't have time to push it inside me. His prick was outside of me, a thick rod of burning heat as he ejaculated. His cum spurted at my opening. Darren was open-mouthed at the moment when he came, as if he was amazed. For an instant I didn't feel the cum and then it was warm wetness and then he was tucking himself back into his trousers.

He wanted me to crawl for him and I couldn't, not really. I did try but I couldn't make it back again. He crawled belly to belly with me in the duct, trying to tow me that way and laughed when it was too clumsy. He couldn't crawl and drag me at the same time.

"Shithole," said Darren. "I should ask my Darloxians to torture you to death for being such a pain." He laughed again. We were face to face. I tried to use my arms to drag myself and cooperate with him but I just flopped on the floor.

He tried crawling backwards and pulling me but that didn't work and he swore softly under his breath in an alien language. I looked at him fearfully, thinking that he was building to sadistic rage again. My look wiped the laugh from his face.

"Don't worry." He said and his tone was flat and his face was blank.

If it had been all the way back to the panel I had entered the duct from, I would have been hysterical with fear, I think, but I did not have time to work up to hysteria with my fear of the Darloxians again. We reached another panel suddenly and it was open. I was levered out with Darren's arms and the hideous Darloxian tentacles working together to pull me the last three and a half feet.

It was one of the Darloxians who carried me down the corridor. I sagged in the implacable tentacles. I was focusing on hope, pinning my hope to the even soft tone that had been in Darren's voice, in his promise that the Darloxians wouldn't get to fuck me again.

It was in a cargo bay that they stood me on my feet. I could not have stood alone. Tentacles pulled my arms wide and held me upright with my back to the wall. It was an immense chamber, scaled to the Darloxians, with shipping bales and crates partially filling it. Darren no longer seemed volatile. His face was calm and without emotion.

The Darloxians gazed at me interestedly with their bulging frogeyes. The pair that were holding me were pulling my arms so wide that even over the other sources of pain clamouring for attention, I registered that they were hurting my shoulders. I recognized Neaf. He was not one of the aliens that held me on my feet. He was holding a slim black handgun.

"Chthri-Darren." The alien's voice was modulated into conversational human tones. "Will this weapon be suitable?"

Darren took the weapon from the curled tentacle. "It's a low calibre." He commented.

"It is of a lower calibre, so that the little-space primate will not die quickly, the moment we pull the trigger."

"Yes, I see." Darren was businesslike, examining the gun. A great lump of emotion was sticking in my throat. Half of it was fear and half hope. This looked like the execution that Darren had mentioned. He really was going to keep his promise and kill me without letting the Darloxians rape me again. But even though it appeared he was going to keep his promise, their malevolence was extending so that it would not be a clean ending.

"I guess it will do." Darren turned the handgun about in his hands. He looked at me. His dark eyes were perfectly calm. At this moment he had full rein on this moods. There was no sign of the repulsion he showed when he looked at me ordinarily. He pointed the gun at me.

It was aimed low down. Its black muzzle pointed at my waist." A head shot." Neaf corrected.

Darren's dark eyes flickered up to mine abruptly. There was something enormous behind the calm. I could not see what emotion it was. "No. If I hit the brain stem..."

"This is so." The alien agreed. "Would Chthri wish for me to do it?"

"Why should you do it?" Darren's voice was loud.

"Whatever you prefer, Darren." The alien murmured.

My head was floating full of greyness. I was faint. I kept my eyes fixed on the man. He moved in closer. He didn't hurry. It was the moment before I died. His eyes were glued to my face. He brought the muzzle of the gun in until it stopped, touching the naked skin above my navel.

It moved. I looked down. He was rubbing the muzzle of the handgun side to side. It was the same motion as when he had rubbed his prick against me in nearly the same place. It was so light it was like a caress.

My body was a mass of bruises. The gigantic sting welt on my chest was less swollen now, but much darker with irritation. It was inflamed red and crusted. Everywhere my eyes rested when I glanced down I saw the marks from the damage that my captors had don't to me. I was hypnotized by the softly waggling gun.

"Iver." Darren's voice was close to me. It broke the spell. I looked up.

"Do you want it?" He said.

I was dumb. I could not answer him. My head was thick with the booming grey of hypoxia. I had lost my footing and hung slack.

"Do you want to die, Iver? Answer me. If you don't say yes, I won't pull the trigger."

I looked up at Darren.

"Shall I pull the trigger?" He said.

I nodded my head.

His face tightened before his finger did. I saw his expression. Just for a second it was stark on his face. It must not have been his emotion, but a mirror of my own, for it was livid with an anguish that seemed to blaze through his eyes.

A huge spear of dark thrust through my guts. Where my body core had been was a savage ball of pain. I heard the after report as a muffled deafness echoing the sound of the shot. My ears were ringing with it as I collapsed, released to fall to the floor. For long seconds I lived with that pain, gaping like a fish, bloody belly scrubbing as I thrashed in reflex kicks. Then I went blind and then nothing was there, no sound and only resounding pain until that too faded like the tintinnabulation of a hundred bells battering me apart.

The End of Part 5a

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ALIEN STORY-5b

Written by Juxian Tang

So, we put Iver to the autodoc to test it. And after the heavy lid of the machine slid over him there was nothing to do any more. Whether the thing was doing its work, or killing him, or just stalling - it had to take hours until we could get the results.

Yes, I had to be in a state while waiting - but strangely, I felt the greatest flow of relieve spreading through me, so sweeping that it weakened my limbs and swooned my head. The autodoc was tampered. It had to be. I believed in it so full-heatedly that I didn't see anything irrational in my certainty. Okay, but it was so easy for them to spoil it - why wouldn't they have done it?

"Inanna Great Mother," I whispered aloud knowing that the Darloxians didn't listen to me. And even if they heard they would think I pray for the autodoc to be valid. They were discussing human technologies, however, and Neaf turned to me and patted my shoulder.

"Don't hurt yourself, brother. We'll call you."

I went to my room and there was nothing that could stop me - and, really, I didn't feel like stopping from anything, I was anxious to prolong the feeling - the stupefying state of everything going right and every wrong thing that was done and happened - corrected.

Well, not so simple it was. The last thing before I inhaled my stuff - White Dove my pusher called it - and the first thing when I came round - I saw again the bullet from my gun entering Iver's body. His flesh ripped and blood fountaining and when he fell on the floor then for some seconds he sort of crawled - sure, it was convulsive motions - but it looked like to me as if he wanted to drag himself away from us, as if he wanted to be in some other place to die.

No, he was not the first man I shot at and killed. Only I guess it was never like this - that he stood in front of me naked and so ravaged that there was no live place on his body and it was me who had done it to him. I tortured him so much that I made him want to die. I never tortured no one before.

After the effect of the drug assuaged I returned to the crew quarters. For a couple of hours more I sat with my friends chatting and drinking tea or something and then Soyii appeared to hail us. And we came up to the autodoc and it was open and Iver lay there and he was alive.

He still was stoned - and his face was really marble - void of any expression, smooth and bluish-white and with his lips pressed so tightly that they were only a thin colorless line. His eye-lids were not lowered quite closely and I could see his whites between these long arrow-like lashes.

There was no blood on Iver's body any more - I barely could believe that I made him shed it. There was a neat two-inch dark pink scar instead, as if drawn with an ink-pen. So neat that I felt like touching if to check if it was real, if I would sense it under my fingers. The autodoc worked with his welts where the Darloxians had stung him, too. Another scar, longer and somehow more roughly looking, was going right across his nipple. And I saw the tiniest, almost imperceptible trace in the corner of his mouth.

If not these marks, I thought, he could look the same as he was the day before. When I undressed him to let my Darloxians have their pleasure.

"It works!" Neaf exclaimed in an amused voice.

"This human device is fine," Hurlock commented jovially.

"Well done, Chthri!" Soyii congratulated me. I turned to my friends and in a moment I got into their embraces, with almost every tentacle pushing me, wrapping around my shoulders, pulling me closer to them.

"I knew it would be all right," I saw Neaf's broad approving smile and smiled back.

I didn't know what I felt. I looked at Iver - at the steady fluctuations of his chest - and I didn't know what to feel. Everything I could find in my head - every thought and phrase - was matching only one layout - with him being dead. Dispose the body, I could hear my voice. Or - well, guys, the worst is here, we'll have to find the programmer. I knew I could pronounce it - I was preparing myself to tell it. Nothing was necessary now. And instead of necessary things I found only some weird dull ache inside.

"Now we have an occasion to celebrate," Wagr suggested hilariously.

"I think I'll better go and try to contact the outsiders," Neaf switched to his usual efficient manner in no time at all.

Others didn't leave. Wagr and Soyii were chatting brightly in Darloxian and Hurlock I saw approaching the autodoc again. He butted Iver's body with his tentacle casually, pushing at his side, almost flipping him over. It didn't matter, I thought suddenly, he couldn't feel it. Hurlock glanced at me fleetly.

"What's now?" his voice was harshly modulated as usual, sometimes difficult to comprehend even for me. I let his question hang.

Iver lay flat in my bed motionless for almost two hours more. At first I walked around and then I just sat in the bottom part on the bunk feeling his narrow feet almost pressed to my hip. I watched him.

So fuckin' funny it was that he turned out to be so beautiful! I mean, what a strange coincidence - I never too no hostages as far as to our ship - and this first one I had was the prettiest male I've ever met - and I never lusted for females!

The thought that he could have been dead by now came again to me, annoying like metal taste in my mouth. Yeah, he could. Not healed at all, with his body still looking like a mess of injuries - I really never saw anything like this before. I don't know how it could be that I felt anything but sickness looking at him - and yet he was making me so horny that I didn't care what I was doing, still less what I was doing to him. Was it the reason why I wanted him to die?

Well, now he was not so much destroyed. And once again I felt the urge to touch him, to run my fingers over his body to check if he was really back and whole, and here with me. I put my palms round his delicate ankles. They were so cold that it burnt under my skin. I touched his hands - they were pliant and icy.

"Iver, you are freezing," I whispered pulling a blanket over him.

Some more minutes passed before he started moving. I felt it at once. At first it was still unconscious, he just thrashed a little, pushing me with his feet slightly. I glanced at his face - it was not placid no more - with the frown between his thin dark brows. His lips curved - and he closed his eyes shut - to open them at the next moment.

I apprehended it to happen - but when he did look at me I understood his sight was still too clouded, he simply didn't register what he saw, better to say, he didn't see. His mouth worked painfully, as if he tried to moisture his lips and his tongue was too dry for it.

I brought a cup of water to him. And when he drank it his eyes were getting clarified - unavoidably. Then he pushed me.

It was a feeble push and if I was intended to stay it would be easy for me - but I stepped back. I splashed a little water on the floor and on myself and it made me chuckle. My laughter abated quickly when I saw his face.

"You..." staring at me, with his eyes completely sober, Iver whispered. He peered at me - as if he couldn't discern me clearly - but it was not so, of course. "You... Darren..."

"I am," I answered curtly. He really didn't need my confirmation. With his eyes like two narrow slits and his teeth glistening between his half-parted lips he was absorbing me - and I saw the first fit of shivering that shook him. His voice when he spoke again was not shaking - but, maybe, it was too feeble to display any emotions.

"You killed me..." he paused. His brows slid together - as if it was not right. Then he found correct verbalization. "I thought you killed me."

"Yeah, I shot," I showed him my hands - as amiably as I could. I was not sure if he paid attention to my words or to my gestures, even though he watched me fixedly. He couldn't get control of his face - I saw little cramps distorting it.

"You did it," he repeated. "I remember," I saw him pressing his palms to where my bullet hit him - as if he felt it tearing him again. Then his face changed once more. He kicked the blanket down. His eyes were wild when he looked at the place on his belly where there was no blood any more. He gasped once and I drew my breath in, too.

"It's gone!" I couldn't figure out his emotion when he said it. He didn't give me time to acknowledge. "You mended me. Oh, sure! Your autodoc..." he stopped abruptly. His fingers wandered on his scar. I bit my lips. He started again. "It is in order, right?"

How darn him could he know it? I didn't remember - did I mention the autodoc in his presence? I had to. I couldn't believe that he guessed so right so soon.

"Iver..." I tried to say something, I didn't think of what exactly. He didn't let me. The expression on his face - it made me flinch.

"Congratulations," he said quietly.

His eyes became dull. He shuddered again and wrapped his arms around himself - as if he was very cold - and he turned on his side away from me, with his knees crouched. His lids sank down. There was no pain on his face, merely tiredness. He didn't make any noise; his body rocked tiny, as if he was cradling himself.

"Iver," I said again.

I stood at the back of my bed, clasping it tightly and watched him. He was reeling mutely. When in a while I heard his voice again - it was very small. And he didn't speak to me. He muttered something under his nose - I couldn't catch a word but somehow I doubted that it was a prayer. He was raving.

"Iver, stop it."

He ignored my words. I stepped closer to him, not knowing if I going to strike him or to put a caress on him.

"Shut up. Shut up, you fuckin' sicky."

He didn't answer. I felt my voice rising. I was going to shout at him - and I use my will to make myself sound flatly.

"Don't make a show for me. I don't buy it. I don't believe you, shitty liar. You didn't want to die. You tried to take me in. Nobody wants to die. It is good to be alive. Come on! Tell me! Tell me you want to die again!" I stopped abruptly. "Don't even you dare to tell me it. You don't know anything about death."

I knew it was not true, of course. He was dead.

I towered over him now - and he still didn't tilt his face to me. He was in shivering. I felt two equal desires - to grasp his matted hair and slam his head against the metal post of my bed - or to put my hand on his hunched shoulder.

"Fuck you, stupid scum," I cursed. I was sure that he didn't hear me. But he did. And oddly it made him glance at me. "You know what? You could be cold right now. I could throw your body to the outer space. Do you think it would be better?"

"Yes," I heard his voice, hoarse with the feelings he tried to overwhelm. I set a smile on my lips but he hardly noticed it. He looked right in my eyes.

"No," I said firmly. I glanced at the cup half-full of water still in my hand. "Shit. Am I arguing with you?"

He continued to look straight at me. I plashed the water into his face. He didn't look aside. Then he said very tranquilly:

"What's now?"

This question... With some creepy feeling I recalled Hurlock asking it only a couple hours ago. I had ignored him. I could ignore Iver, too, why not? Only I didn't feel like.

Very slowly I sat down on the bed at his side. He didn't shrink away from me, neither he revealed any other emotions. He just waited for my answer.

"And what do you think will be now?" I asked carefully, reaching my hand to his cheek. I was prepared for him to quiver under my touch. He didn't. For a moment he refrained, perhaps wondering if I asked for real. He didn't have much to lose answering, anyway.

"You will let your Darloxian friends fuck me again," he said tonelessly.

I was fingering his soft hair. I stopped for a while and then started once more. He didn't register my hand - at least it seemed so.

"Shall I?" I asked at last. He didn't answer - but really, it was me who had to answer. I forced myself to speak and I couldn't. I sighed. "We are going to sell the autodoc soonest," I said eventually. "We won't be able to stuff you there again... and you will need it if my friends fuck you, you see. I don't know. I don't believe you want to die - though you said it to me and you say it again. So, I'd, maybe, better not allow them to put their dicks inside you... At least, as long as you behave yourself and do not make me mad," I added quickly. "Clear?" I plucked at him shortly. "Clear, shitty boy?"

I couldn't figure out what was the emotion in his huge golden-black eyes staring at me. If there was joy it was not substantial.

"Yes, Darren, sir," he said. I patted his cheek, settling more comfortably near to him. Iver recoiled, giving me place, and I used it to lie down, putting my boots on the bed, too. There was not much space here - but I didn't mind. I turned on my side to face him - and he lay docilely, without saying a word. He must have felt feeble after the surgery. But there was something more then feebleness in his pliancy.

The blanket - as he pulled in down - was covering only his privates now - and he didn't try to adjust it. I took his face between my fingers and thumb.

"Kiss me, hear?" I directed his jaw, closing my face to his at the same time. He gave in without hesitation. For a moment I saw his tender lips parting - and then they touched my own lips and I felt the taste and wetness of his mouth. Despite myself I smiled into this kiss - but the next second I didn't smile any more, flabbergasted with the sensation of his soft warm tongue sliding inside my mouth. Some part of my mind registered what it was: I told him to kiss me - and he did it exactly. I didn't kiss him but he deep-kissed me, cruising his tongue in my mouth, intertwining it with my own tongue. I was breathless suddenly.

His thin tentative digits touched my hand. I probably dug my fingers too tough into his skin and he tried to release my grip. I let him go. I started groping his smooth hair instead - and I felt him touching my upper arm while he was still lapping on my tongue.

It was flame going down through my body from our pressed lips. With every his lick I felt something clenching in my chest sending resonant waves of dizziness. I realized about having hard-on when I hurt myself pressing the erected organ too tightly to his thigh-bone. My skin was smoldering. What I really wanted - I knew it terribly clear - was to drive all my body into his, to drown myself in him, to clench with him inseparably.

He withdrew his mouth. It was good as well - I gasped for air. My face was twitching - I smiled and crooked at the same time. Iver's palm slithered without pressure upon my arm.

"Sweet whore," I whispered tightly. I didn't know what I was going to do - to grasp him and squeeze him until I hurt him - or to fling him on the floor. It ached in my chest so much.

"Darren," a sudden soft voice hailed me through the intercom breaking the spell. It was going from outside of the door. Neaf. "Darren, I don't bother you?"

I skipped down from the bed, checking swiftly my clothes. It was in order though demonstrating clearly my arousal. I pushed the button to open the door.

"I was afraid I woke you up," my brother stepped inside carefully, gazing around. There was a mellow curious expression on his face.

"No," I smiled to him. "Not at all, my Neaf."

"Ouch, you are already tinkering with the human toy," he remarked.

I shrugged. I moved back to the bed. There was no place to sit for Neaf - but he didn't care. He stopped at the foot of the bed and looked at Iver intently. He seemed thoughtful.

"He already looks rather lively," he said contemplatingly, raising two of his tentacles under the place where his chin had to be.

"Why not?"

"Yes," he mused aloud. "The autodoc does its work. And - you know, brother, humans only seem to be frail species. They are extremely recoverable. I remember you - I wouldn't bet any Darloxian would recover - and you did."

"That's right."

I moved my shoulder sharply. I didn't like to recall it - however, I didn't need to recall. Neaf went on looking at Iver. I couldn't see Iver's eyes, half-covered with his lashes, but I could see his face getting pale.

"This scar doesn't spoil its looks," Neaf informed. I saw his tentacle reaching and tapping on Iver's belly. He didn't press it, just groped. Iver sucked his breath in. His belly fell. But it was not enough, of course, to escape. "Neither does this one," Neaf pointed at his nipple.

"Probably," I forced a little laughter out of myself.

"Oh, sure," Neaf answered absent-mindedly. "They said the autodoc sew him around his rear hole, too."

Yes, and it mended his smashed insides, I thought. Neaf didn't wait for me to reply. One his tentacle tugged the blanket down from Iver and other two seized his ankles and forced him up and wide swiftly. He dragged him a little over the bed.

"Well, it is shut again," Neaf commented calmly, poking with his tentacle. "As if we never penetrated him. Hurlock says it gives us a lot of opportunities."

I never stopped grinning for a moment. Neaf paused and then I said it:

"Tell Hurlock I am not going to use the autodoc again. Tell him I don't permit to tear the human."

"As you like it," at the next moment Neaf dropped Iver's legs abruptly. "By the way," then he turned to me and I stepped closer. "I didn't get the answer from the outsiders."

I hemmed. It was not weird, of course, taking into account it was only several hours since we sent a message for them - but it was the captain of the mutants who insisted he was in a hurry.

"I'll check it every hour," Neaf promised.

"Anyway, if they are going to be out of touch tomorrow morning - there is no much choice."

"He was firmly intended to buy and he liked the price."

"I don't worry," I said. "It is not the thing that we won't be able to get off our hands."

"By all means, Darren," Neaf agreed. There was some pause in his words. Then he said reluctantly. "Jose left his signal."

With some sickening feeling I heard this name. He was my provider, Jose, and somehow I was a kind of embarrassed to hear about him - the same as I didn't like to hear about everything that was connected with the White Dove - but meanwhile it was always swirling somewhere in my mind.

"What does he want?"

"I don't know..." Neaf seemed hesitant; he didn't mean he didn't know, of course. "He asks if we are going to buy anything in the nearest future."

"Wow!" I laughed almost light-hearted. "He got bird-news that I earned some credits?"

"Actually..." Neaf doubted again. "Are you sure you have enough of the thing?"

This question made me gape. We didn't usually discuss these things with the Darloxians, including my brother. Sometimes I even forgot that they knew about it, that it was one of them - I didn't remember which - who presented me this stuff as strong and clear - some years ago.

"Yeah, I have," I drawled. I was checking in my mind what I really had in my phial. Fifteen dose. Maybe, twenty. From month to two months of use.

"Jose is going to retire. The business grew too dangerous for him, you know, with these UTI. He says he sells his last delivery and then he is out."

"Oh," I said smiling wryly. "Some are able to get out."

But it was not what I really thought about. Well, Jose was not the last pusher of the Empire - and I was sure there were others who had the stuff - even if it was rare. And still...

"We will find another source," Neaf said echoing my own thoughts. I thought that in the beginning, when I used it once a week and even more seldom - just when I felt especially low - I wouldn't give a second thought to the idea that I had to spend a while without it. But now I was not so sure.

Neaf looked at me waiting, without any impatience on his benign face.

"You decide, brother," he said.

"Well," I made another attempt, "we don't know if we would have money from the mutants - and when. It's a bit unreasonable to buy now, huh?"

The stuff cost exorbitantly. Well, the Alazanians who extracted it risked their lives. Neaf spoke. His voice was pure velvet - so tender - and when he only started I knew what he would say:

"Whatever you need, brother, you'll have. Don't upset yourself."

Was I afraid to stay empty? I realized suddenly I was. Ouch! As any fuckin' deranged addict. I giggled. I didn't like this realization. But still less I would like it if I wouldn't be able to find anything in my phial in my pocket.

Neaf left saying he would contact Jose without lingering any more and I closed the door behind him. The room was quiet. I turned around after a little pause and saw Iver still and silent on the bed. He lay exactly where Neaf left him - just turned to his side and crouched tighter. His eyes were following me.

Now his irises were almost light in their brown color - but no help for me in reading their expression - and after a second I was not sure I wanted to read it. You are my little human pet, I thought, you know it. I looked at his gentle mouth that kissed me only quarter an hour ago. I knew I could sit down near to him and he would kiss me again. Not because he wanted to. But I promised him not to let my friends screw him - and I kept my promise.

There was something creepy cold spreading inside me. I narrowed my eyes.

"Iver!" a little more coldness penetrated me when I watched his face getting wary. "Lie on you back."

He obeyed. For a moment he looked at me trying to figure out what was waiting for him. I walked closer.

"You'd better be good for me, Iver," I said unhurriedly, measuring his flat body with my eyes. "Or I will be bad for you. You can believe it."

The End of Part 5b

********************************************************************************************************

ALIEN STORY - 6a

Written by Ruthless

His hands moved over me possessively, without passion. There was no malice in them, no mercy. They simply moved over my skin confidently and slowly. The edge of his thumb paused on the nipple where I now had a scar and flickered. His dark eyes studied me coolly watching for a reaction. I lay motionless, palms at my sides on the bed.

Darren's fingertips spiraled lazily and curiously, circling the blemished nipple before they traveled to my throat. His skin was warm as his touch followed the tendons up to the corner of my jaw. His steady gaze was implacable. He drew his thumb across my lips. It paused at the corner and I remembered that I had had a split there. Perhaps I had a scar.

He didn't tell me what to do. Earlier, he had said, "Kiss me." I had known what to do then. The only thing I could be sure of now was that I shouldn't try to stop him. I had no right to stop him from touching. Whatever Darren wanted to touch, or if he wanted to hurt, he could do that.

I was light-headed, hollow inside, filled with a gigantic emptiness. I had expected to be dead and I was not dead. I did not know how to feel. I kept my gaze on the man's face, looking for cues. There were no cues there. I focused everything on the man. Beyond him was a terror too immense for me to deal with. I shut down the terror, until the moment that he would trigger it. I watched him toying with my body.

He spoke: "I don't like this hair on your chin." I had grown stubble. He was exploring the roughness with his fingers and disliking it.

"I'm sorry, Sir." My voice came out thin and reedy. His accusation made me anxious. He didn't like it. All I could do was apologize. It was not my fault it had grown there. Ordinarily I would have taken it off. I could not shave because I was this man's prisoner and I apologized.

His eyes flickered in disbelief or contempt. His hands worked lower. They crossed my throat again, were once more back at my nipples. He used both hands and pinched them sharply. I didn't react to the sharp pain; it was minor. Not reacting seemed to be the right thing to do. I didn't see another flicker of contempt.

He's a soldier, I thought. A professional. He had hard training. That's why he's so contemptuous when I cry out in pain. He thinks I'm weak. That's why he hates me. He wouldn't cry out. He doesn't show fear. I have to hide it when it hurts. But I'm a researcher, not a soldier. I'm not a killer.

His hands were fanned out now, wavering over my ribs. They stopped at my navel and made patterns. The pattern wasn't symmetrical. I didn't look but I knew he was following a trail that curved about the new scar on my belly. His eyes were no longer on my face. He was in no hurry to move on. They traced the path they had made around the scar he had made when he shot me, round and around.

I thought of a little boy, pushing model ground cars along roads in a sandbox. I was a toy to Darren, like that. Around and around the finger tips spiraled until one of them wavered and got into my pubic hair. The fingers stopped.

I looked down. Darren was staring at my cock. I was flaccid. My cock was lolling sideways, pointing towards my thigh, almost completely covered in the foreskin. He had only the same thoughtful, brooding look on his face as his gaze fixed on this part of me.

"Spread your legs."

I spread them immediately as widely as there was room to on the narrow bunk. Darren stood. I watched him undress, tugging open his dark short military jacket and dropping it on the floor, The white shirt followed. The little hair that was on his chest was so dark that it was prominent. It made him look masculine to my eyes, made myself with my pale body hair look boyish and ineffectual. His boots clumped on the floor as he dropped them aside. His black tough trousers lowered and he kicked them down. His tall cock was standing up like a feral creature. It was completely erect.

He came to the bunk beside me so that his cock was near my hips at the level of my hands. "Work it." He ordered.

I reached my hand over, circled firmly and felt how hot his skin was in my palm. I slid it up and down.

"You shitty space-whore." His voice had dropped a little. It was deeper and softer, probably with pleasure. I masturbated him mechanically, waiting for instruction to stop or to vary it. I felt like his cock was an animal and I was about to be bitten. It was a living thing, a little carnivore; it was going to hurt me.

"Iver, you bastard," He breathed. "Make it feel good. Yeah. Service me you shitty space-prostitute."

"I'm trying."

His fingers moved over to my belly poking hard. I might have rolled towards him, because he urged me to make it feel good, but his fingers were in my way, working over me. They were jabbing into me, pushing on me from my chest down to my groin. He took my cock in his hands just for an instant. He was rough, like a man angrily pawing through a drawer for something he cannot find.

When he moved, his graceful motion startled me. He swung up onto the bed between my wide spread knees. I had to let go of his cock. It was red and angry looking. He took me by the thighs.

"Don't flinch now, Iver." He warned me. "Or it's going to hurt."

I didn't flinch. He tilted my knees back, pushing them towards my arms so that I was doubled up ungainly and my anus was exposed. He spat noisily into his palm and slicked it on his cock. Then, when he pushed the thick blunt tip of his cock against my anus, I felt my muscles clamp in reflex. He pushed forward anyway. His eyes were again fixed, burning dark and terrible on my face.

It hurt. Oh, it didn't hurt nearly like the incredible pain when the Darloxian cock had torn me right open. Then I had screamed uncontrollably and been unable to breathe for the pain. That pain had almost made me black out. Compared to that, this was a little pain. I didn't scream or cry out when he stabbed his prick hard into me. I made no noise at all.

But I breathed differently, deeper and with shuddering breaths and Darren could see that. I tried to conceal how it hurt. He stabbed it hard inside me with deep strokes. My nostrils flared as I tried to keep a grimace off of my face. His face had gone narrow with contempt. He could read my pain easily. He let go of my legs and braced his hands on my shoulders, leaning down; pinning me as his hips kept up their rapid tempo.

"What's the matter fuck-doll? Don't you like me? That sweet little virgin ass you waggle around is too good for me? Shit!" He told me rudely. "If you didn't want to be fucked, you shouldn't keep waving it around so pretty and giving me the big eyes."

"I'm sorry." I gasped. I could not even keep my voice steady.

"Get used to it, fuck-toy." He ordered me. Stroke after stroke was slicing so deeply that he was bottoming out. I felt his balls pressing firmly below my opening.

I knew what he said was unfair and was a lie. I had done nothing at all to come on to him. It had never occurred to me to come on to him. But all the same his words made me think desperately that I had to act differently to avoid turning him on. There was a wide, almost smile stretched across my face, half a mask of pain, half a placating look. I was trying to look normal in a situation that was nothing but normal, when pain and humiliation were like a fist slamming into my guts.

Darren bent forward. He dropped between his own shoulders, seeking with open lips for my mouth. For a moment his long eyelashes dipped and shielded his dark smouldering eyes. I craned upward to meet his kiss. His lips were warm and soft and firm at once. His breath was sweet. The tip of his tongue flickered between my lips, asking me to meet it. I kissed him with my tongue and his tongue plunged possessively deep.

He was getting close to cumming. He gasped into my mouth. His hard palmed hands slithered across my skin. He stabbed viciously into me and missed his stroke. The wet cock stabbed across my balls instead. But he didn't stop and try to replace himself. He just thrust on, still hard, two more strokes while he struggled to lean even closer to my mouth. I felt the pulse as his twitching cock rammed in a short stroke between my genitals and his belly.

I let my legs go back down as I felt his cum pulsing in warm spurts on my lower stomach. He lay flat so that his cock was sandwiched tightly between us. He kept kissing me, the flickering motion of his tongue slowing down. I held completely still, waiting for cues from my rapist. A huge shudder started to pass through me and become visible but I tensed into immobility and held it down.

He wasn't kissing me. He was spent. He lay heavily. It was long seconds before he raised his head and looked at my face. He looked just a little vacant; the way people do after an orgasm that has drained them. I wondered if he would be angry that his cock had come out of me. It had to have hurt when the stroke hit outside me instead of in me. He might be about to blame that on me.

He moved his hand. It came up onto my forehead. He brushed his fingers lightly again and I realized that my forehead was damp with sweat. His dark eyes were only about three inches from mine now. He seemed mesmerized, an after affect of the orgasm. Or maybe it was just a deeper version of the intense scrutiny that he had put me under before when he had started exploring my body. I was a specimen to him, an object to study.

"Poor boy, did that hurt?" His soft voice was mocking and tender at once.

"Not too much." I said. "You can do that. I mean, I know you can do that, Darren, Sir. I mean that it's okay." My words started speeding up. "It's alright. I wouldn't say anything. " I broke off suddenly as I realized that I was babbling from trying to express my compliance.

He didn't sneer at me. He reached down under himself and over my balls. I spread my legs again to give his fingers passage. He found my sore, raw hole and rubbed it briskly. I winced because I hadn't been prepared for the touch.

"Want my cock in there again?"

I paused, knowing that his cock was growing flaccid between our bellies. I could feel it shrinking, leaving a snail trail of the repulsive cum that it had spurted behind it as it crept slowly back. Darren wasn't talking about fucking me again, this minute.

"If you want to. What ever you want to do." I said.

"Me or my Darloxians?"

"You." I said instantly.

"Then you be my little space-whore, my promiscuous piece of space trash." He said. His voice was still teasing tender, like a parent cooing over a child. "And for awhile I'll keep their cocks out of your pretty pink asshole. As long as I still find you amusing I won't share that part of you with them. Understand? You still have to keep them happy, not just me, but I won't let them fuck you up the ass. Use your mouth on them or something..."

"Okay Sir." I couldn't breath. The idea was too disgusting and terrifying.

A small unkind smile quirked his mouth. "And when I get bored it's fuck party time again. Only this time, I think I'm going to watch. When you piss me off, I'm going to turn you over to the Darloxians again and watch them fuck you into a bloody skin bag of broken bones."

Misery escaped onto my features. I didn't answer him.

He sat up. "Hey baby, It's no big deal. One more fuck party with you as the guest of honour. My guess is you'll pass out quick once they really get going."

"Do I...do I get put back in the autodoc afterwards again?" I undid any of the effect my earlier attempts at stoicism may have gained me. My voice came out whimpering.

He was sitting up, straddling my pelvis now. He shook his head and his voice was sharp. "No, we're not keeping the autodoc. I got hold of that thing to sell it. The next time I'll let the Darloxians keep you. They want to try out and eat you, see what human meat tastes like."

Tears were spilling from my eyes. I had no control over them. They blurred my vision.

"Don't cry!" Darren snapped.

I brought my hand up and scrubbed the tears from my eyes with the back of my wrist. I put on a smile somehow. I was still struggling to act calm and friendly for him, even though the capricious malice that he was directing at me was killing me horribly. My voice came out almost normal and chatty. "How can the Darloxians eat me anyway? They don't have any teeth."

"They like their meat well decomposed." Darren informed me. "On Darlock when they hunt they beat their prey to soften it, and then they bury it for a couple of weeks, so that by the time they dig it up, it's completely mushy."

A gag stuck in my throat. "Well, I won't be alive for that anyway!" I made my voice bright and cheerful and of course it sounded totally artificial. It didn't make Darren mad. He swung down from on top of me. He didn't pause to clean his cock off, but walked around the room with his lithe muscular body naked.

He strolled over to one of the built in lockers that furnished the room. He took some rope out of it. He crossed back to me holding the rope.

"Now, listen, fuck-toy." Darren said kindly and seriously. "If you try to escape again, you know you're not going to get anywhere. But if you even try, I'm going to hurt you this time in a way you find unbearable. I'm going to pop your eyeballs out or slice your cock off, something like that. So do be a good little boy and don't make any trouble for Papa Darren."

"No, Sir." I said.

"Now how shall I fix you?" He caught me by the upper arm and hauled me unceremoniously off of the bunk. "Not in my bed. How about over the chair? Think that would be comfy?"

"In the chair?" I got unsteadily to my feet.

"Over the chair." He guided me to it. It didn't cross my mind to fight with him. The autodoc had healed me but left me weak. Even at my best I was not going to be a match for Darren.

He laid me belly over the chair and then adjusted it so that the arms and the seat were level. It was a comfortable padded armchair. Darren eased me about so that my head was resting on the surface, but this meant that my ass was sticking out a few inches. He started twisting the rope around me. He worked very slowly and carefully. When he had tied me earlier, he had yanked the knots savagely tight so that they squeezed into my flesh and pulled my arms back under stress while they slowly robbed my hands of circulation. This time when he tied the rope he made it secure but not tight.

He tied my wrists together, but not so that they met. The rope that spanned them ran across the small of my back. My knuckles were about four inches apart. The rope that wound my shoulders and kept my chest against the chair had an inch of slack in it. "How's this?" Darren ran a finger under the rope against my shoulder blade, testing it. "Not too tight?"

"Yes, it's okay, Sir. It's not too tight."

"And this?" he pulled on the slack in another rope.

"Yes, Sir. It's okay."

Then he tied my knees at the bottom of the chair. He tied them spread widely. My genitals dangled into the air vulnerably. I spread available for access. That wasn't a coincidence.

"Looks good." He patted me.

I turned my head and watched him as he dressed. He had his head turned, not watching me and I looked at the little silver hoop that gleamed white against the darkness of his hair as he pulled his garments on.

I thought that he forgot to extinguish the light in his cabin when he went out, but it wasn't an oversight. He was back soon with his hands full. Darren sat down on the floor right in front of me. I saw that what he carried were dishes, a cup and two covered containers, a spoon run awkwardly through his fingers.

There was food in the dishes, a clear rosy pink fluid in the cup. Darren was smiling. "Is my little cock-sucker hungry? How about it, fuck-toy? It's been what, three days since we got you on board? I know the autodoc pumped some fluid and nutrients into you, but I'll bet you're hungry."

I forgot to answer him. I just stared. He didn't get angry. He tilted the cup up to my mouth.

It wasn't easy trying to drink while lying on my belly with my neck extended. I tried to do it carefully. I didn't want to waste a drop of the sweet fluid, which tasted like fruit juice. But some of it spotted on the armchair because of the position that I was in.

"All you have to do is keep me from being bored." Darren explained. He put spoonfuls of a white nutty paste into my mouth. "That shouldn't be too hard for a horny space-whore like you. A few more of those virtuoso blow jobs that you give will keep you going for a few days. Show me your expertise."

"I'm not really a whore, Sir." I said.

"If you're not, you should have been. You could have fucked your way clear across the galaxy with a pretty mouth like yours and that trim little ass." He poked another spoonful of the food patiently into my mouth.

"I don't have experience. I never even had sex with a man before you did it to me." I said desperately. I wanted him to understand that I wouldn't know what to do.

"Fuckin' lying' slut." Darren muttered.

"I'm sorry, Sir. But it really is true." I apologized.

"Where'd you get that habit, calling me Sir?" he demanded suddenly. "Sir. It rolls off your tongue so naturally. Just like some damn enlisted soldier. You're not para-military. I know it. Where'd you get the idea of calling me Sir?"

I stammered. "Muh-my father was a Colonel, a retired Colonel. He was old-fashioned. He like us to call him that. I'm sorry, Darren. I don't know. How do you want me to talk? I was being respectful. I was trying to be respectful."

Darren gave a sound like a smothered chuckle. "Sir is fine. I like to see you groveling. It suits me if you know your place."

He had fed me all of the food, a full meal of it and the juice. It filled a little of the gigantic emptiness that was in me. I was amazed that he was being so kind, and I was desperate to keep him that way. I kept smiling at him.

"Thank you, Darren." I said. "Thank you, Sir."

He looked away. Collecting the empty dishes, he stood. "You'll need your strength." he said. "Yeah, if I want you to last as a fuck toy until we get to the Staireth Space Port, I can't have you passing out from hunger and thirst." As he walked past me towards the door, he laid a slap sharply on my exposed ass. "I want you to feel it while I'm fucking you. I want you to feel every stroke."

Then he left his cabin again and this time he did switch off the light.

The End of Part 6a

***********************************************************************************************

ALIEN STORY - 6b

Written by Juxian Tang

I put the panel back to its place firmly and fastened it. More than two hours I spent inside the duct fixing the cables for the bottom storage. I believed I coped with it, at least for now.

I looked for the blood traces on the smooth floor - and there was none, of course - the renewing surface absorbed them completely - but I still felt dizzy when thinking about it. Even though everything was alright with Iver now, you know, no blood at all. I crawled over the cables to the cavern where I had found him yesterday. I looked at the place - it was clear, too - and I scrambled down there and sat, kneeling in the same position, and I took my time without work.

Everything I had done and said here was back again. His wax-colored desperate face when he tried to breathe because I thought it was nice and fine to press on him! I knew I hurt him, I yanked and pushed him and I didn't care. But I thought he was going to die. That's the thing. I believed it was going to stop hurting.

Well, it stopped, in any case. He was not in pain, right? Even when I fucked him in the morning. Aw, I managed well, didn't I? Made it clear what was going to go on.

"I never did it with a man before you did it me," I heard Iver saying it once again. I chuckled. It didn't matter. My forehead was cold with sweat while I stood with the screwdriver in my limp hand.

It was Neaf who called me and I shook myself before going. Well, it couldn't be helped. Iver had to disgust me twice; because I was a rapist - and because I was a man who liked to fuck men.

The dialogue with Lancie Hopper, the captain of the outsider's ship, was lengthy and inefficient. His imperious three-eyed face on the screen was adamant, with these huge turned inside out lips that made him look like a crucian carp clasped together. He made it clear that he was not going to arrive on Staireth in the nearest week.

When the screen dimmed I looked backed at Neaf who strolled behind me tapping his tentacle thoughtfully against his forehead.

"Do you think they really apprehend UTI?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, stopping for a moment, and then regained his pace. "For all I hear Staireth is too much of a crib for UTI to put their noses there."

"So..." the idea made me chuckle sourly. "Are they afraid of me? They think I could try to blow their freaky asses up for a couple of credits?"

"A couple of millions of credits," Neaf corrected.

"My reputation," I sighed. "It's ruined! Oh, Baal Implacable... You know what?" I caught one of Neaf's tentacles and detained him. "I am going to the Staireth Port and find another purchaser."

It was not a reasonable idea and Neaf informed me about it. It was safer simply to wait. Wait! I hated it. And I hated having the thing - the autodoc - aboard. This was, probably, the most definite feeling I had. I let Neaf go and lolled back idly. So quiet it was in the room of my brother. I listened to the steady slap-slap of his soles on the floor and waited to leave.

"What's that?" Neaf lingered again in front of me, now on his own accord, and his tender slimy limb touched carefully between my brows.

"Iver. My pet," I shrugged. "Too much of nuisance. I try to figure out if it is worthy of what I can get from him."

"Does he annoy you?"

"I don't know..." I paused. "No. Simply I used to be alone, I guess."

Well, it was like that. For the last nine years I didn't sleep a night with somebody else in the room.

"Then you can put the little thing to the storage hold - if you don't want to finish with it."

"Yeah, I can."

"Look, if he pisses around when you want to take a rest..."

I knew what Neaf meant under "taking a rest". It was the code I introduced myself. I thought about it feeling that the moment when I would really need to take a dose was closing up. It could be weird. Nobody has ever seen me when I was spaced out - and I even didn't know how I behaved then. I could made faces or jerk off or even rave, for all I knew.

"If having the pet you are going to spend more time in my room - I am going to like it," Neaf said mildly. I laughed. "But, actually, I thought you could make it the playtime for us while you feel like relaxing."

"Ugh... Yes, of course," I nodded. "I was not sure if you are interested. You see," I patted his tentacle fleetly, "it's a sort of selfish about me to keep his bum only for myself."

"Don't worry, my Darren," he shuddered in a short laughter. "We are not spoiled with entertainment here, I suppose the guys will be happy to use the human in whatever way."

"Only his mouth could be too small to give you real pleasure."

"It's okay," he discredited my doubt. "He already sucked me."

I dropped my eyes to Neaf's flaccid organ for a moment. That's how? I didn't know it. So, it was why he, Iver, took it so easy when I told him about it.

"You can take him," I said. "Sure. In a couple of hours. When I will be ready for a joint."

"By the way, what are you going to do with him afterwards?" Neaf asked. It was a good question - and whether my answer was true or not I could give it.

"Remember I told you I planned to use the hostage for distraction when collecting money from SSC?"

"Well," Neaf smiled delicately. "There won't be any money from them, so..."

"Ug-hu. Only I will get the money. They will pay."

For a moment Neaf looked at me reluctantly. I guess he knew I was not an idiot to promise the things like this and then let them hang but he didn't see any opportunity how I could do it. I didn't reassure him - all I had was only a vague idea but it was rotating in my mind and I knew it would work out.

"Maybe, I'll need him there and after that..."

I switched the light on entering the room. Iver's eyes were owl-like after this long stay in the darkness and blinked painfully. He worked his tender mouth - as if uncertain whether he had to smile at me or just to be appeased. I approached him slowly, wiping off any emotion from my face.

"Did you miss me, silly human?"

There was such an amusing expression on his face sometimes - as if he tried to puzzle me out.

"You were away for long, sir," at last he said. I thought I could get used to his gentle voice calling me "sir". I was already getting used.

"But you are glad to see me?"

"Yes, sir, Darren."

I had a little inert thought that I could say to him he was supposed to entertain my friends soonest - and then decided against it. I looked at him - at the cruel and fascinating pose I made him take - so absolutely helpless he was and so open and vulnerable. I felt sick inside with myself - for what I had done to him already; but much more - for what I wanted to do - and I knew there was nothing that could stop me.

"Do you tell the truth?" I peered at him watching how his curved lashes flew up and down. It surprised me how this way his gaze became unobtrusive, almost pleasant to meet. "You are fuckin' liar, as far as I know, Iver. Who taught you to lie so smartly? You daddy colonel?"

I stepped even closer to him. He was tilting his face up as much as his pose let him.

"No. Not my father, sir. I mean, I don't lie... I don't lie to you on purpose."

"Then it is innate for you," I shrugged. "I bet your daddy had to punish you a lot for your phony-speaking mouth."

"Yes. No," he stopped. I was not really interested in what he was going to say. I looked at his smooth back turning to this small ass, so sweetly white and spread open. I walked around him to be behind his back. Iver glanced across his shoulder at me - but it was too straining for him, his eyes seemed a little wild.

"My father disciplined us pretty diligently," I giggled absent-mindedly. "When he was in the right mood to pay us a bit of attention. He was a priest. Diane hated him, she thought he left us. Diane, she's my sister," I reminded to him.

He looked back at me shortly again.

"When you piss me off for the first time," I said, "if it is not going to be a serious delinquency, of course, I'll punish you myself, without my Darloxians. I am going to like it, you know. To draw some pretty ornaments on this clean back."

"Whatever you want, sir," his voice was silenced into the upholstery of the chair. I flopped down on the floor - right between his legs; there was room for me to kneel there.

"Or I can hit you," I said conversationally. "I can hit this," I slid my palm under his bum and took his round neat balls. His skin was hot and minutely moist, the tiny hairs as soft as on his head. "Or this," I put my other hand just above his disposed hole, groping the firmness of his tailbone. "It hurts," I informed him.

"I guess it does," he said softly.

"But, maybe, you won't piss me off," I regarded, "at least until I'll be ready to get rid of you finally. You can be such a lovely little pro if you try hard."

I let my fingers wander down to his rosy hole. The subtle scars where his previous tears had been seemed thread-like and I felt the damp rawness left after my today assault. I didn't poke in. I just rubbed my fingers on it thoughtfully, with my other hand massaging his small testicles. I didn't hurt him badly; he could hide it, however. He had tried to do it already in the morning.

"Shall I fuck you now, Iver?"

His voice was tight but it didn't waver:

"It is at your disposal, Darren. You know it."

"I'll fuck you," I said. I was ready. My cock was heavy with blood when I took it out of the pants. Against the paleness of Iver's skin it seemed purple-dark. It was almost pulsating.

I put it to the upper part of his ass, where his cleft began, and rubbed sharply. Now both my hands were on his ass-cheeks, the fingers digging ruthlessly into his flesh and the thumbs prying the hole. I pressed the tips of them and they went in - with difficulty though. Iver didn't resist to me, not at all. I screwed my thumbs inside him, massaging his anus.

My cock above my hands slid against his back, almost touching the rope his wrists were tied together with. I was leaking thin pre-cum; it made him slick. It was so incredibly fine. The feeling was fine. And the sight was beautiful. But I knew what I would like even more.

"Now you'll have to stand it, pretty Iver," I breathed out. I took my thumbs out quickly and pushed my cock inside. Oh? I counted it would be more welcoming after my working with it. It clamped the tip of my member viciously. I sneered and quivered. I pushed again and then he stopped hurting me. Now I was hurting him really bad. I stretched him, his insides.

When I was in to the hilt I stopped for a moment. The sensation was worth reveling. Iver froze, silent and breathless; only his hole was alive, biting around my penis. The feeling grew in me, making the procrastination delicious.

"Now, Iver, now," I whispered starting the ride.

He didn't take it as good as several hours ago - and no wonder, I rubbed against the sore places. But I couldn't say I minded - it had been so queer to contemplate his face then, a mask of torment. Now I didn't see his expression; he didn't lie on his cheek but pressing his mouth to the seat instead. Perhaps that was why his breath was so hoarse.

Iver stirred his hands. I could see it very clear - his tied wrists were the closest things for me to watch. They fleeted restlessly and after a while I understood - he wanted to touch himself. He would do it only the rope prevented him. He might have wanted to push me aside - but I didn't think so; he just needed to soothe where it hurt.

His breathing became even louder when I accelerated. This was so good for me. I didn't go mild on him, not at all, the sound made me hump him even more eagerly. I gasped for air when I came close - and I moaned cumming.

I lay limply covering him with my body. Even through my clothes I felt the wetness and warmth of Iver's skin. He was not panting any more. His moist hair hung over his face. He was still at first and then, after I stayed like this for quite a while, he shifted. I thought I could be too heavy for him. I felt sorry.

"What, Iver dear?" my own voice sounded funny for me. "What do you wiggle?"

I settled back from him. He glanced behind unhappily.

"I need to use the toilet, sir," he blushed. He still could blush. "Please..."

I started laughing and quitted.

"Brainless pet."

I yanked the knots on his rope quickly and sloppily. Iver slid his knees together as soon as I let him do it; he didn't stand up, waiting for my guidelines. I took him around his waist and rose with him. It was a right thing to do because he was shaky on his feet, well, naturally, he didn't walk after his surgery at all - and my guess was I had left him tied for too long. I held him - I hugged him.

When he turned to me I saw pinky traces on his knees. The floor was too smooth for him to scrub them really. His pubic hair was crusty. My own morning cum dried on it, made a part of it look like a curl, darker than other. The sight was ridiculous.

"Ooh," I drawled measuring him with my eyes. "What a foul pussy. You know, Iver, I don't understand how I could stand fucking you. I've never seen such a sloven in my life!"

These translucent eyes sparkled at me.

"Just look at it," I gripped his sticky pubic hair and plucked at it sharply. "And on your legs, too."

It was my fresh load leaking out of him - blended rosy with a drop of his blood.

"Let's go, I want the pussy washed clean," I pulled his hair again very roughly, feeling some hairs torn out with the roots.

I watched him obscenely while he took care about himself, messing under the shower. I didn't drive on him - as long as he seemed to enjoy it. He shampooed his head hair and his bush, too, obviously relieved to wash off the residuals of my sperm from his skin. He was very careful with his hole. I discarded my jacket and came up to Iver.

"I'll help you, cunty."

His soaked body felt curiously under my palms. I pushed my hand up to his ass and rubbed him there. This my touch Iver bore quite stoically. His endurance was amusing. In the morning, when he tried to make his pain invisible and his nostrils trembled, I thought he could do it out of contempt. But no, he was not like this. Or, maybe, it only seemed to me.

I tossed him a towel but took it away again while he cleaned his teeth and shaved. He looked laughable when unshaven - so neglected, I didn't like it. In the mirror I saw his face perfectly - framed with this sleek fair hair divided in the middle, with the longest locks going as far as to his cheeks; straight nose, soft lips - and these carefully attentive bright eyes that from time to time met my gaze. I saw his chest, too, with these small soft nipples of a young boy, one of them flawed now forever. They fascinated me; I knew if I was going to concentrate on them I would feel hot in my pants again.

I reached my hands under his arms briskly and took these vulnerable circles in my fingers. The mirror was my accomplice - even if Iver managed to suppress flinching I saw exactly how his lips pressed together to whiteness.

"You don't like when I touch you?"

"No, sir. I mean, I do not mind if it is what you like."

"And if I hurt you?" I squeezed his nipples between my thumbs and fingers. "What about this?"

"I..." his voice became small; I was already hurting him pretty much. He took a deep breath and regained his composure. "I think I can stand it."

"But not like that?" I continued to squeeze. Did I want to make him cry? To break him? I didn't know. He started panting - while keeping his voice steady, however.

"It's okay. Sir..."

I squeezed so tight that my fingers lost some sensitiveness and I thought that he could get numb, too. I pinched him sharply. He tossed his head back and as he did it I pressed my lips to his hair. It was already almost dry - so fluffy and fluent. There was a little sweat on his temples. I was tweaking right and left - until I felt my fingers become wet on his unspoiled nipple.

I let him go, pushing him from me and he grasped the edge of the sink to stay upright. It was not blood on my fingers, just hypodermic liquid. But I marked him, his nipples looked puffy and inflamed bright.

A huge sigh of relieve escaped Iver when I released him. He didn't cover himself - though his hands flew up a bit and then he remembered he didn't have any rights over his body now. But he looked down at his tortured chest. His hair hung on his face but I could see it was very pink now. He was in tears. And it made me contented.

"You are fuckin' no actor, Iver," I muttered, my voice dropping. "We will try again a bit later - maybe, you'll show us some more mastery next time."

His nipples were puffy, scarlet red, making the scar on one of them almost invisible. I found it with my thumb, pressing, feeling his tiny wince. He didn't raise his face.

"I don't know," I said lazily. "If we pierce it - will it make this ugly scar less glaring? People will see the ring and not the scar."

It made him look up - a frightened glance reflected in the mirror. I yanked the little swollen nub again.

"A ring to leash you. In the Staireth Space Port I will be able to walk you along the Promenade."

"Oh..." what I couldn't make him with pain I made him now - he vocalized. His tender lips became round. His chest was heaving.

"I'll put the chain trough the ring and this will be an easy way for me to keep you close. You won't tear your own body to get away from me, right?" I smiled at him. "Oh, I can imagine how they will admire you. On Staireth, they really have kink on homely boys. The brothels there are the best ones. I don't know," I bit the corner of my mouth wryly. "I can leave you here while I'll do my business. You'll earn me some credits - maybe, enough to reimburse the food you are going to eat. Have you been in the Staireth brothel, huh?" I plucked at his poor nipple again. The mystified look of his face gave me the answer. "They don't differentiate between humans and other races. But - Iver, with your experience in pleasing my aliens - you are going to be the hit. The bad thing is," I paused for a spell, searching his face, "that nobody cares about the diseases. I bet your precious mouth will be in smelly sores in no time at all."

Tentatively his eyes found mine.

"But, sir," what a tiny voice he had! And in such dissonance with these brave words he was saying. "I thought you were going to give me to your Darloxian companions to play."

I laughed. I just couldn't help it. Iver put a little miserable smile on his lips - more a shadow of my own than his real feeling. I stopped and slapped his cheek from behind, not painfully at all.

"Clever pussy? Perhaps you think papa Darren has no brains, huh? But I'll explain you, listen here. Of course, I won't touch you after that - after all these cocks and dicks that are going to visit your ass. But for my Darloxians it will be absolutely alright. And they don't catch human infections, for you to know."

I could see I distressed him. Even though his face looked more thoughtful than upset. And he raised his hand absent-mindedly to take a long lock of his hair and to wind it round his index finger. So concentrated. As if he was not in front of me naked and well-used but in some fuckin' library regarding the research work!

At this moment I knew pretty clear that I was able to hurt Iver terribly. It was not that I was angry with him - not at all, a part of my mind knew exactly how innocent he was. But there was the dark wave rising in me. I grabbed his upper arm and dragged him out of the bathroom.

"You took care of yourself, stinky cunt," I muttered tugging him and in the room I pushed him on his knees on the floor. "And who will take care of me? You think you don't have to clean your mess?" as soon as I dropped him I started getting my cock out. "It is your muck, not mine. Almost entirely not mine."

I was not erect. I just pushed my listless penis to his lips that were crooked apologetically, as if he was not sure what I wanted.

"Clean it!" I said. "Lick it clean!"

I was going to punch him if he delayed a blink more. But he didn't. His delicate lips wrapped the head of my prick. I felt his wet slippery tongue circling around the foreskin. He touched my piss slit. I sucked the air. I knew I was going to get hard-on if I left him doing it. I pushed him back from me, to his heels.

"Iver... Iver, you are unthinkable."

His eyes glimmered at me through the fringe of his flaxen hair - checking whether I was angry. I felt wrecked suddenly. I tucked my dick back and took Iver by his shoulders. He stood up placidly, obeying my gesture. I guided him to the bed and laid him down. He was mute and flexible. I lay over him, not really with my weight on him because I didn't want to prevent him from breathing. His eyes had a strange expression, sad or, maybe, tired.

I ran my fingers over his lips and he half-opened them for me pliable.

"Your ass is so sweet, Iver," I whispered; I didn't care if he could catch the words. "But your mouth is sweet, too. I think, my Darloxians won't be robbed if you serve them with this mouth only."

Iver didn't answer. The thing was he - well, he didn't cringe, he probably didn't dare to do anything so showy - but his stare withered.

"Do you promise you will make them feel good?" I asked him pawing his head.

"Yes, sir. I'll do."

"You are a good pet."

I closed my face to his chest, seeing his poor swollen nipples only in a couple of inches from me. I licked the one I abused.

"I am sorry," I uttered inaudibly.

It was so nice to lie like this with him, tasting and smelling his clean skin. But - well, I knew I promised to my friends. I thought they were already waiting.

The End of Part 6b

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