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Original Fiction

Written by Ruthless

The Darloxians never wore clothing. Only Darren wore a jaunty black uniform, so I don't know why being naked made me feel so ashamed. I guess it was because it was a badge of what I was. Cumpot, Darren had called me. I was a sexual receptacle, a belonging, not a man.

If I lived long enough, Darren was going to put me into a brothel. I had heard what I had thought were tall stores about the exotic whorehouses of the Edge Ports. Now I thought those stories were true. Wealthy, immoral humans could buy the bodies of Shlhorlan juveniles. Why not? After all, the Darloxians took a hideous delight in abusing my body.

The long damp tentacles twisted about me holding me wide. A gash-like mouth came down on my genitals and crushed, making me squeal and struggle frantically. The throbbing was their arousal noise. My whimpers and desperate efforts made them cluster around me. I tried to serve them. I licked the rigid thick shaft that was pressed to my mouth. The size difference was absurd, anomalous. I couldn't even take the cap of the thing into my jaw. I tried to fit it in, despite the seepage of slimy mucus, which had a rank flavour. I licked and slobbered over the end of the prick.

But no matter what I did, it wasn't enough. How could it be enough? I kept crying out in pain. My own cries sounded animal, they were so weak and shrill.

I was being fucked while I attempted to fellate the gigantic gross Darloxian cock. Not with their pricks, but the end of a tentacle was forced into me. It was so deep and it moved inside. It was a horrible sensation and it thrust into me mercilessly. It was probably hardly any wider than Darren's cock. It was far smaller than a Darloxian prick. I could not be stoical. The battering was relentless and they did not want me stoical. They wanted to hear me squeal.

"Cry little thing! Come on, Cry!" This was Soyii

"Bite it!" The harsh, unmodulated voice was Hurlock. "Bite it! The autodoc will fix."

"No biting. The human pet belongs to our Chthri." The voice, which could have been human, was Neaf. "Darren will want it back soon."

"Bad thing!" A tentacle wrenched on my prick and balls making me yowl with pain. I could not lick the prick in front of me. I was too shocked. I was gasping too hard. There was a thin Darloxian tentacle thrumming urgently on the prick. I heard laughter, choking, unhuman laughter. The prick foamed out ejaculate, a flood of slime. What didn't spurt onto my chin and shoulder went onto the floor.

A tentacle twisted my head and my face was scrubbed into the white slop. My nose and lips got full of it. I was gagging and spitting. They were fighting over me, pulling two different ways. They had so many tentacles that they easily pulled me two ways, almost ripping the muscles in my arm and my leg. The slick thick tentacle had never stopped ramming into my anus. It went on thrusting urgently. Other tentacles pulled my hair or gripped about me and still there were tentacles left to writhe curiously, plucking and leaving sucker welts across my skin.

My penis fascinated them. It was yanked, squeezed and bent. I howled in pain and jerked convulsively. The tip of a tentacle hooked into my jaw holding my mouth open. It wormed inside. I gagged. I could not work it out. Like a serpent slithering into a hole in the ground, the tentacle pressed beyond my tongue. When I gagged I was smothered completely by it. It wormed down my throat and began thrusting obscenely. It was mimicking the motions of fucking. The suckers on it pulled at my tongue. I had no air at all. I was being tentacle fucked at both ends, my body bucking with the pain as they hurt my penis and my balls.

When I was pretty close to passing out from smothering, the tentacle was withdrawn from my mouth.

Moaning, I lay on the floor in front of them. They throbbed softly. The slime of ejaculate was slick dripping off of me. My hair was caked in it. One of the Darloxians had cum on me while I was smothering and too gone in the darkness to be aware of it.

My legs were forced impossibly wide. It felt like a tentacle at first. Then I realised it was an object. There was hard corner, scraped past my bruised opening. My face was dragged into the puddle of cum by a Darloxian gripping my hair, while the aliens behind me poked objects into me. What the objects were I didn't know. I couldn't look back to see. I never felt the nauseating sensation of my body tearing; nothing was that big, but whatever they used, the Darloxians were ramming it in and out of my stretched, bruised opening and throbbing gleefully. I stifled my whimpers and lapped at the cum on the floor.

The sex game went on for a couple of hours. I think that I pissed myself from the pain during it, but I don't know for sure; I was so moist with the Darloxian ejaculate that was smeared over me. The pounding and tugging left me battered to the floor. When it ended I was still flopping around in the puddles of cum. One of the Darloxians loomed over my legs with a rope. He lashed it about my ankles, tying them together. Then he lifted me. I swung upside down. Dizzy, I clenched my eyes shut. My arms windmilled. I felt the wall, smooth and cold at my back. Then the tentacle was gone and I was hanging upside down. My arms were still free. They flapped. They left me like this when they were done, hanging upside down.

They just left me there like a toy put away for awhile. It was Neaf who unhooked me and stood me on my feet. I swayed and he steadied me. His shiny half-orb eyes fixed on me. "Dirty." He said. "Darren will want his pet clean."

I fell off my feet when he pulled me by the arm. They were still tied so I could not have walked. He dragged me by one arm down the hall to a water jet in a utility room. The water was lukewarm. The alien pushed my head and body under the jet. I controlled my shudders as his tentacle scraped over me under the flowing water. He was cleaning me. He dragged me out when the water had sluiced away the dried yellow crusts of ejaculate and he started to undo the rope as I lay on my back on the wet tiled floor.

"Thank you." I said. My voice was faint. It was the first time I had spoken to the aliens, I think. Neaf turned his octopoid eyes on me. For the first time the creature looked at me differently. He glanced more quickly than usual. "This is for Darren." Neaf said. "I am not doing this for you." His words were strong. It was as if I had perturbed or puzzled


When I was clean and untied, Neaf made me stand. He made me walk around the utility room until I could walk steadily. I walked in circles and Neaf steered me with his tentacle, turning on the spot and guiding me.

When Neaf was satisfied that I could walk well, he returned me to Darren. It was at least three or four hours since they had begun their play session. He took me to the door of Darren's cabin and when Darren came to answer the hijacker stood with red eyes looking confused.

"Here is the pet returned, Darren." Neaf informed him.

"Yeah. Thanks." Darren was short.

I went inside and Darren sealed the door. He didn't look at me. He swung himself into his bunk and lay on his back staring at the ceiling. I stood uncertainly waiting for instructions. I wasn't tied. I didn't know what to do. But then I realised I wasn't going to get instructions. Darren wasn't paying any attention to me. He was somewhere else with his sore and staring eyes glowing at things I couldn't see. He frightened me.

I moved as far away from him as I could, against the wall. With so much confusion glaring from his face, I didn't want him looking at me. I squatted down silently. Darren never moved again. I would have been warmer and more comfortable on his chair, but he hadn't given me permission to get on his chair. I had the idea that if I just sat down on his furniture he would notice that. But he didn't seem to notice when I lay down and curled up in a ball on the floor.

Tentatively I explored my painful hole and genitals. They seemed to be a little discoloured and the hole was raw, but this time the damage was not at all serious. I clamped my knees shut and lay on my side.

A few days ago -God, had it only been days? I would have thought the damage quite serious, but that was before I had the real death and damage to compare it to. I would have thought the pain was bad and the damage scary then. Now I just wondered how long it would be before real bad things would happen to me again, before I would be impaled, before greedy aliens would be gnawing on my flesh and I would be dying.

When Darren came and stood above me, I was still curled up tightly on the floor. He bent over. His fingers were slippery on the skin of my neck. I knew that I was moist with sweat. I raised my head and looked at him with anxious attentive eyes. I thrashed clumsily, uncurling and trying to get up.

Darren was frowning, watching me as I jerked about and got on all fours to face him. I didn't stand because he didn't tell me to stand. I didn't even dare to stand up without permission. I waited for him to tell me what to do.

There was something odd about his face now. It had smoothed out. It was languid. "What, you alien dick sucking whore, you managed to satisfy my friends already?" He spoke pleasantly and jerked his head to indicate that I should rise. His malice seemed a front. He seemed to me to be tired and his cruelty was coming out absent-mindedly and by habit.

I stood in front of him. The warm fingers of his tough skinned hand reached out and took my genitals, cupping and squeezing. Pain shot through my misused balls. Not that long ago I would have winced violently. Now I only stared at him, barely registering that the possessive obtrusive hand hurt me where my tissue was tender.

"Not ripped open this time are you?" He turned me around. His finger probed. "They didn't even hurt you this time. Did you remember to thank them, you shitty human, for holding back?"

Darren's hand closed firmly on my cock. He pulled and backed up. I had to follow him, like my cock was a leash. "Nice big Darloxian dick is a real treat for a dirty space whore like you." A smile flickered onto his mouth. It was like the smile of a sick man, who is trying to be polite and act normal, but who couldn't get his expression completely under control. Even his words seemed automatic and meaningless. He drew me across the room and then stopped when his shoulder bumped the wall. He half turned and looked at the wall like he couldn't tell why it was there.

It must have cleared his mind a little. He looked back at me with a degree more animation. "Did your duty, did you, fuck hole? Did you drink their Darloxian cum and make them happy?"

"I tried, Sir." I said.

His fingertips on my testicles started to flicker. "No cock up your ass this time, huh? You disappointed Cumpot? Or are you happy? Are you?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm happy." I said. I gave him the answer that I hoped he was looking for.

He didn't let go of my penis. His fingertips kept stroking and scrabbling at my balls. He turned about on the spot, not letting go, walked a step away and came back. There was such a funny restlessness about him now. I was trying desperately to read him and understand. It was like he was almost too tired to stand from the slackness of his face and the slight unsteadiness of his gait, and yet he was agitated at the same time and couldn't stand still. He rocked back and forth on his heels.

Darren dropped my penis and stepped back abruptly. He walked about the cabin looking about as if trying to find something. I watched him intently, standing frozen. He threw quick glances at me.

"Oh, lie down on the floor again." After a few moments he growled. "Get away from me."

I lay down on the floor again, cautiously on my belly to protect my crotch and watched him. He fingered some of his possessions, sat down in the armchair and drooped like he was collapsing, shot up to his feet again and then stared at me fixedly. His glare was fixed. He swayed over to stand above me.

"Amuse me, Iver." He said high above me.

"How... What do you want me to do, Sir?"

"Amuse me. -Talk!"

"Talk about what?"

"Anything." Darren flapped his hand at me impatiently. "Talk about that Colonel father of yours, your stupid trip on the space yacht, where you came from. I don't care what. Amuse me."

I shaped my mouth nervously, looking hurriedly for words. There wasn't really anything interesting to tell about me, but I had to try.

"I was on the yacht because I had a paper to read at the historical society. Morwen had one to read also, She..."

"Morwen. Who the fuck is that?" He interrupted.

"She was on the yacht." I said.

"Oh." Said Darren. He was standing with his back to the wall. Now he slid slowly down the wall until he was seated on the floor close to me. There was the big comfortable armchair just behind him but he sat on the floor. He fixed his eyes on me and looked at me sideways.

"I was just reading a paper, not an important one, but I... It was important to me, Sir, at the time. It meant I might be able to get a position." I laughed, embarrassed and trying to sound natural. "Well, that's not going to happen now."

Darren stared at me silent and moodily.

"You want me to tell you about my father, Sir?" I changed the subject hurriedly.

"Yeah." Darren spoke softly. "The fucking bastard colonel's little puppy son. Did he teach you to play fetch with him?"

I was surprised. "No, Sir. He liked us to call him sir. It was good manners, he thought. But he was kind. He was a pretty good father, I think. "

Darren said nothing.

"My brother, you know, was born on Grefalla. My father was posted there. So my brother was born there. He was born with the Grefalla Syndrome, from the different atmosphere, the effect on the fetus. Handicapped. They didn't know. So when I got conceived, my father resigned his commission."

My words didn't seem to make any impression on Darren he just listened as I went on and I kept talking because he had told me to talk and never told me to stop. I talked about my father and my mother, trying to explain how it was, with money tight, trying to make ends meet so that they could take Royso for surgery and for treatment.

"I got left at the boarding school while they were off planet. That way I didn't miss school and it was cheaper of course. They didn't have to pay for four spacefares. Dad was always so worried about money."

His expression was stone. After awhile I decided he wasn't listening to my words. I figured that it was the rhythm of my speaking only, so I kept on talking as steadily as I could. It was weird thing, spinning out my own story like that to the hijacker as if he was someone I had gotten close to, an intimate friend.

"I had to fight you know, to defend Royso. My father insisted. Let him go out among the other kids so he could have something like a normal life. But they didn't understand. And Royso, he couldn't fight. The big kids, kids his size would hit him and he would put his arms up around his head and howl. He didn't understand what was going on. I'd have to try to hit the big kids. I wish I really had known how to fight. But anyway, I used to manage to get them to leave him alone." I said. I twisted the loose strand of hair at the side of me face around my finger nervously as I talked. It helped me concentrated.

"It was better, even if it was more difficult, when Dad and Moms and Royso were on planet with me, because then I had a home of my own you know. I was always so glad when it was those time."

"Royso, does understand some stuff. He recognizes me. It's Dad and Moms who really matter to him, he has this big goofy smile that he gives when he sees them and he tries to talk. He puts his arms up. But he recognizes me too. I used to make him sit cross-legged facing me, and we would pass this ball back and forth. It was exercise. He could walk with the braces, but I preferred to play ball with him, because when he fell down, it was real hard to get him standing again. He was so much bigger than me. Kids with Grefalla Syndrome aren't any smaller. Even now he's a hell of a chore for Moms and Dad to manage. He's a full sized man."

I kept talking, I don't know how long, twenty minutes at least. It was maybe as much as an hour. All I did was talk about Royso and my family. It wasn't important stuff, just about being a kid. Darren never said anything. I moved about, facing him while I talked. I sat up. Darren stayed sitting still. Then he moved closer to me but I went on talking as he kind of inched closer. His eyes were on my face, like they were hypnotized. I thought maybe he was stoned, from the weird way he was acting; that could account for it. But then after awhile I realised that he was listening.

"I figure I can go visit them every three years or so, if I get the position. That's what I would have done, and then stayed with Royso. It would have given my parents a week off. Time off from a hard job like that is good." My voice slowed down. Darren was lying on his belly now, leaning towards me. "But they don't like to leave him, even with me. I know they need a break from care-taking. I know it. But Dad says he doesn't remember me anymore, so it's better I don't visit..."

I stopped talking.

Darren didn't fill the silence. He waited for me to go on but I couldn't go on. I had wound down like a wind up doll. I had got too scared to go. I needed to know if I was making him angry or not.

He moved forward slowly. I didn't move. I was sitting, so Darren crawled and he laid his head down on my thigh. I was frozen. I felt the weight and warmth of his head, the slight roughness of his cheek. Now I couldn't see his face or tell why he was lying like that. I was just terrified because I didn't know what was going on.

Quietly, in a murmur too faint to understand, Darren began speaking. He was swearing. My story had upset him somehow.

"Fuck you, Iver." He whispered. "Fuck you. Fuck you, stop it. Stop it, Iver."

I felt his breath near to my knee as he whispered the low, painful words. I began to breathe heavily with fear. "Stop what?" I cried out.

But Darren didn't tell me what I'd done to upset him. He just lay there with his hands holding onto my leg around the knee and his warm head pushed up on my thigh. He stopped swearing at me. He lay very still and quiet.

The End of Part 7a



Written by Juxian Tang

I don't think I slept long. Maybe, twenty minutes and I opened my eyes in the darkness abruptly, without any trace of dreaminess in my mind. My mouth felt dry but even though I shivered I knew I was covered in a thin film of sweat. I lay for a little while, regulating my breath and realizing that I was again as far from sleep as I could be.

"Iver," I called. "Iver, come here."

I couldn't see him from my bed when he was lying in his nest of blankets in the corner - even when it was light - I put his chair between him and me. I was not tying him while I left the room for quite a while already. I made it clear, you see, what would happen to him when/if he made his mind to annoy me - and I told him to repeat it, so, I think, he memorized it well. And I almost never heard him from his place; he was so soundless in everything, in his breath, in his movements. The only thing I caught now was a slight rustle and he got up without a word. I needed just to reach my hand to turn on the light but I didn't want it. I waited for him to get to the bed, feeling a very minor push when he bumped at the foot of it. I shifted and grasped his upper arm, pulling him to me on the bed clumsily. We stirred both trying to get some place here and I started feeling him close.

Iver was so warm against me, every part of him - and I could sense every part of him, nothing shielded with any clothes - and so bony, his shape was angular, his shoulders when I wrapped my arm around him. It made my breath break, this feeling. For this week since the autodoc mended him I never tried to lie with him like that, I don't know why. It didn't come to my mind, probably. I mounted him, you see, oh, gee, it was a lot of sex, more than I ever had in my life - several times a day, actually.

I squeezed him. I mauled him so strongly that I felt some pain myself - and I had to hurt him, too, even though I didn't want to hurt him right now, it was just that I tried to be closer to him.

"Iver," I hailed him again. "Am I hard with you?" I didn't let him any time to answer. "I know I am."

Under my fingers I felt how his body became rigid when I started speak to him - and even though he slackened tangibly when I didn't demand his reply I still felt the tiny contractions of his forearm muscles. His soft light hair was ticking on my face and on my lips and when I inhaled I smelled his fine scent, mostly of this blended water of the ship and of soap and only very slightly of his skin. He washed so much - every time he returned from the Darloxians he had his hair wet.

You know it didn't always take the same time for them to bring me Iver back. I didn't know why they spent longer time with him sometimes and I never asked. It was Neaf who usually came with him. If I walked out my dose by then it was better because I didn't feel like being rough to him. When he happened to come earlier I sent him to his place so that he didn't mess under my feet. He was so pale when Neaf was guiding him inside, almost greenish, and with his face so weary that he looked older than ever. It was because he was so smaller than them and he got tired to serve them, I knew. I wondered if it was every time that all of them used him and a couple of times I started formulating the question to Neaf - but it never went that far. They needed their privacy, you see, they didn't ask me how I got my pleasure from him, right? His lids were sinking down and down again - and he didn't have this weird expression of anxiety in his eyes, as if he was always guessing something about me.

For the last week there was no day when I missed a dose. Never in my life I used so often and I had already some pains breathing through the nose in the morning - as if the air was too sharp.

I reached my hand to his face. I knew I had my fingers wet but I couldn't do anything about it. I felt his cheek and his lips. It was odd but I found so pleasant to do it in the darkness. Because I couldn't see if there was something in his eyes - hatred or repulsion - and even if I tapped my fingers on his face I wouldn't be able to recognize if he covered his emotions against me. Yes, I felt bitter - anyway, I knew it all was here, even though I didn't see it - but at the same time there was some joy, too. I kissed his warm neck and felt my own breath reflected of his skin.

"Come on," I whispered meaninglessly, "Here you are. Come to me."

I thrust my tongue in his mouth and when Iver parted his lips to my intrusion I had the momentary urge again - pressing my mouth to his, crushing his lips against my teeth. I could do it, I did it a lot. That was the matter - I could do whatever I wanted - and he would have to accept it; but whatever I did he would hate it - and I knew it.

I turned to my side and rose on my elbow, closing to him, licking his tongue that responded to me - almost as if we were lovers. Well, I never had no real lover in my life, just whores - and him. I unhooked our tongues and moved my mouth, pecking the corner of his lips. The line of his jaw was hard under his smooth fine skin. I stretched my hand suddenly and put it to his eyes. I felt how his lashes flew down under my palm, tender and tickling like spider-web. He was not crying. I took his soft prick and slid my palm under his slightly moist balls.

"You dislike it so much, poor little man?"

There was no any sound of displeasure from him but I knew it. It was as if I was hurting him when I touched him there, however careful I strove to be. I almost couldn't stand it - sensing his torment when I did it.

"Okay, okay," I took my hand away. "Then you touch me. Come on."

I was horny, of course - as he always made me. My dick was full of blood and stiff and it throbbed when Iver put his hand around it and moved it up and down slowly. I widened my thighs for him, letting him more access, wanting his hand on my balls. His tentative fingers were cold, even though he was not cold himself.

"You dislike it, too," I exhaled. I bit the insides of my mouth because I hated to hear so much emotion in my voice. I felt him moving, trying to get up in order to take it in his mouth and I didn't let him go. I had a blow job from him today, I fucked him today, too, I didn't want it now, didn't want to penetrate him in any way, even though he seemed to get used to it. I knew it didn't hurt him any more when I fucked him. I stretched him so much, broke in his ass. Well, it was not the only thing I broke in him.

His hand enveloped my shaft again and glided on it. I felt him becoming more relaxed again - when I stopped asking him and he knew what I wanted from him. I grasped his face and his shoulders and kissed him, rough and fast, swallowing the salty blood that was in my mouth hastily. His hand warmed up a little on my cock but I still felt it very sharply, almost dizzy with the sensation. He worked over me diligently and my breath was so close to panting that I was choking.

When he heard it and felt some convulsive motions of my hips he stirred again. He was going to get my sperm in his mouth. I yanked him down. My load spurt through his fingers, right on the blanket, and it was so long, with his hand pressed around. He lingered tentatively, maybe, regarding if I wished him to stay like this and I freed myself from him. I was still climaxing dryly while trying to kick down the blanket with the wet spot. Iver was very quiet lying so close to me that he was almost nestled on my shoulder. I regained some breath.

"Speak to me," it was wrong way - and as soon as I said it I knew it. I didn't want his speaking. So many times for this week I barely caught these words before they could escape me. It was so stupid to say them now. I didn't need his speaking. No more. I hated it. Oh, really, really, what could he say to me? Tell me more about his stupid silly life? It made me sick even recalling it. I shrugged. It took some time for me to realize that Iver was silent.

"You don't want to?" I felt my mouth crooking awry. My voice flew up - but I couldn't do anything about it and, frankly speaking, I didn't try. "I know what you think. He cummed, what he wants else?"

There was something thumping in my chest, bigger than my heart and far more painful. I realized I dug my fingers in his arm already - and he didn't flinch, he did nothing.

"You hate me," I said it at last. It was like having a breath after long holding back. "Tell me how much you hate me!" he didn't reply. Somehow I knew that he couldn't reply - how would he dare? - but I couldn't stop myself already. I jerked, dragging my numb arm from under his shoulders, rising over him. My palms were on his collar-bones - he was moist with sweat, I scared him. "I hate you! If you only know how much I hate you. I am afraid I'll kill you some time!"

I lifted up my hand against his cheek twice, never touching him. I think he could feel the current of air from my palm - but it was too dark for me to see if he tried to turn away. I flopped down next to him, as if drained out.

"I ruined your career," I chuckled. "You know, you shit? Even if you ever-ever return to whatever shitty place you worked at nobody will want you. You'll never get your promotion, never! Nobody will want you, you know it, Iver? You are of no use!"

"Yes, sir, Darren, I know it, don't worry," at last he did speak. His voice didn't betray him; not that much as I wanted to hurt him.

"You are dead, remember it! You don't exist any more. The same as this stupid Morwen of yours is dead! Which one was she? This whorish blonde?"

"No," there was a little surprise in his placid answer. "She's a small woman, about thirty five. She lay right before me there, sir..."

"I don't remember," I cut him short. I wanted him to say something and he didn't. "You have nowhere to go," I grasped him sticking my fingers into his skin deeply and pulled closer.

"I am not going anywhere, sir."

"If your parents die would you take your brother to yourself?" I asked quickly. There was some motion of him, I felt it under my chest pressing him to the bed. Iver said with a bit of amazement again:

"Why should they die? They are not old, nothing like that."

"You wouldn't, right?"

"I wouldn't be able to take care about him, I am afraid, and work at the same time."

"This Grefalla syndrome..." I felt like turning inside out the same moment I said it. "There were invalid kids on Thalassa who could have had it - or not. A girl my sister was messing around - she was handicapped, too, but she was lucid in her mind. She had her limbs unmoving - heavy as if made of lead. Once she dropped down from the bed - and there was no any teacher around and no kid wanted to help her. And Diane herself raised her and put her back.

"She left, this girl, with the first launch then," I said. "She had her parents and they assured it. And Diane didn't leave."

I stopped feeling ill with some strange mix of emotions. It was rage, mainly, however. Against Iver, too, and against myself. Why for fuck's sake was I telling it to him? How could he be interested in it? In my sister? I didn't have to let him know about her at all. For a moment I saw her very white face glowing in the darkness - so clearly as I've never seen it during my dope sessions - cold and placid, with these long narrow eyes full of intensity - as it was when she said to me: "Do you want to see how much I love you?" - and then pressed her hand to the hot glass of the table lamp. And at the next moment everything dimmed, as if being switched off. I didn't have any photo of hers - how could I remember her well?

"You let down your family, Iver," I said slowly, carefully; only for a little while it seemed that I could control my temper.

Then I pushed him. He didn't resist at all to what I was doing. I could flip him down from the bed easily - but at the same time I was holding him. It was like I was fighting over him with myself - and I heard my own noisy shallow breaths. My palms were so wet that they slipped.

"Oh, you bastard!" I shook him. I knew I was bruising him, with my knees and elbows printing into his flesh. "It's all your fault, you don't deserve to live, you know it, you don't!"

I thrashed so violently that now we both were close to falling down. My fist hit the pillow at the side of his head. There were his hands close to my body - and I shook them off rudely.

"I know, sir," Iver whispered. "I know, please."

There was some strange quality in his voice - that made something to me always when he started speaking - and now I felt it again - and it hurt me but at the same time it shocked my nerves to the point of bluntness. I stopped speaking. My breath was caught somewhere in my chest. And then I felt his hand lying on my thigh. Burning cold; like steel covered with silk. I jerked. He moved his fingers.

He was groping for my crotch, I realized suddenly. His palm cupped on my limp prick, in a swift caress. He was brushing my pubic hair with his fingers. It made me almost convulse.

Ooh, surely, I was not so stupid to think that he suddenly fell in love with my privates so much. The dirty whore... he was thinking it was cheaper for him to bring me off than to wait whether I was going to hit him and how hard. I laughed. I felt crazed. I seized Iver's wrist - so tight that I could easily break it.

"Leave me alone, cunt. For God's sake, leave me alone."

His voice was small when he spoke again - trailing off for a spell of time - but he was saying hastily:

"It's okay, sir, I won't. Please calm down, it's okay."

I jammed his wrist again. I shook my head on the pillow mutely. I dragged his hand upwards and pressed it to my chest. It didn't slide away when I let it go. I rubbed my fingers against the back of his hand.

"It's okay, Darren," he whispered again. "Don't worry. Everything will be okay, you know."

His hand was patting me slightly, moving almost for millimeters under my palm. I knew I would see tomorrow how much I injured him - over the strange traces on his wrists and ankles he had after the sessions with my friends. There was no fury in me any more. I felt weak and enervated. Iver shifted lightly unwinding our messed arms - and his other hand touched my shoulder against the collar-bone. He said something else - maybe, the same - but so low that I couldn't hear him - and it was alright. There was his breath on my neck and his minute birdie touches - like little pecks. I tossed my head right and left and I felt my face creasing.

I thought he was sleeping when I got up after some hours - but when I came out of the bathroom there were his dark eyes hypnotizing me in the flow of light - so huge in the dark pits of his sockets. Even though I was not in the bed any more he still took as little place as he could there.

"I'll bring the breakfast," I said. "You may stay here."

"Thank you, sir."

I shrugged; I felt awkward saying it:

"Or you can go to your place - if you want," I didn't wait for him to do anything before I left.

It was quite silent on the ship - too early in the morning for anybody else to wake up. I took some meal for us and was going back when Neaf emerged out of his door.

"Morning, brother."

"Morning," I had a wide smile plastered on my face seeing him though I felt I had problems with breathing again.

"Feeding your pet?"

"Yeah," there were some things on my tray and two cups.

"Want to have breakfast with me?"

I nodded. I liked to spend time with him - and in his room, not in the crew quarters. He beckoned me inside. He was not sleeping for a while already, I saw - there were some objects on his table for work and his plate with jelly, too. I sat down on my chair and he settled in front of me. I don't remember what we chatted while eating and then I took his three darts arrows and tried to throw them - not very successfully. Neaf brought them to me back.

"You have to train, brother," when he did it every one went right in the bull's eye. I laughed, too. It hurt to laugh more than just to speak and I think I frowned a little.

"Do you feel alright?"

I didn't like him speaking like that, it made me feel as if I was weaker than really - as weak as I was then, when he took care of me.


"You don't look alright. You are sure?"

"Nothing," I shrugged. I didn't like the conversation. I turned away from him, facing the wall covered with the photos. I threw one more arrow - so awkwardly that it hit the glass of one of them. It didn't scatter - but there was a long splinter on it.

"Oh, Neaf, I am sorry!"

"Don't worry, brother, it's nothing," I knew it was something - he loved his photos so much - and I felt ashamed. I couldn't look back at him. "It's nothing. I worry about your health only."

"I am alright!" I was going to scream. "Alright, you know."

"Yes, I know," he said pacifying me. "I know, my Darren. By the way, it's intriguing how you people are made," I felt he was going to change the subject. There was a puzzled expression in his voice. "You seem so fragile - and still you are so reliably made. Your pet, look, he is even smaller than you - and yet he can take so much. He can take my tentacle inside right till this place without any damage."

In the shining glass of the broken photo I saw his distorted reflection with his tentacle pointing to the place on his other limb at what seemed to me about half a meter point.


It was distorted, of course. It was not like that. I mean, I had to get him wrong what he wanted to say.

"Without any damage," Neaf repeated thoughtfully. "He is so warm inside, it is pleasant. He is not so warm nowhere outside."

I turned to him slowly. His tentacles were still crossed in the same position, his third pair, slim ones - but it was like I saw it, the reflection didn't change it. My mouth was very dry and when I wanted to speak - when I tried - I couldn't do it at once, I couldn't swallow, you see. Neaf only noticed my intention and his face took his usual attentive expression. I flickered my eyes to it - I couldn't take them from his tentacles.

"You mean..." I started. I cut myself short. I couldn't ask it this way, I couldn't ask him if he meant he fucked him with his tentacle. The size was incredible. And... but why should he have done it? What for? It just couldn't be so. I felt close to throwing up.

"It was an interesting idea," Neaf went on rather absent-mindedly. "When Hurlock suggested it I never thought I would enjoy it."

"You do enjoy it?" I repeated unable to find other words.

"We think it delightful," he answered seriously. "His throat doesn't take it this deep, no, not at all, and he couldn't stand it more than a minute without choking. And I told the guys to be careful with it because if he dies he dies - and he is yours, I would never let anybody deprive you from him."

It felt like my blood was frozen in my veins. I was alive - and I breathed and all - but I stopped feeling myself, worse than how I felt numb after a dose. I kept silent - and Neaf went on, thinking probably that I was encouraging him.

"The amusing thing about giving it to his throat is that he sometimes has erection then. If to do it right way and carefully, of course. It is such a fine little thing - his penis, I would like to play with it in its erected position for a while - but he always lose it too soon. And do you enjoy making him erect?" he asked with interest.


Several seconds he waited giving me time to develop this topic and as I didn't procede he sighed.

"Too bad that his urination orifice is too small for anything," he said and then he spilled in laughter suddenly. "Hurlock put his stinger there yesterday and it was so funny how your toy was scared. He thought Hurlock would sting him."

I couldn't breath again. There was too little air for me. The only thing I felt was the keen edge of the darts arrow against my palm and I pressed it deep into my leg under the table.

"His voice is not strong," Neaf continued, "and he seems to lose it when he is scared. Sometimes I even can't discern what he is saying."

Now I felt the tickling sensation of fluid crawling on my skin and I took the arrow out and pressed it again, near. Neaf was standing with his tentacle under his chin, his mouth still stretched in a thoughtful smile.

"I thought he sucked you," I said dully. I didn't try to cover any expression in my voice - but it came out itself.

"Oh, yes, sure," Neaf animated again. "The baby pet does it. Not properly, of course, but, my Darren, you shouldn't be angry with him, it is not his fault. If he could open his mouth wider without tearing it he would serve us better, I am sure. I told it to Hurlock and others. He is not a bad pet. And so nice to play with. The hours with him just fly!"

So, that was the answer, even if I didn't ask - why. Play. It was still too slow in coming to me. I rubbed the wet material of my pants where I stuck the arrow.

"And you play with him in some other ways, too?" it was a feeble voice and only Neaf with his attention to me could hear it.

"Yes, brother, sometimes. We put the leg of the chair into him, you know. It is just for fun, it was not tactically pleasant, well, except when he is shivering so lovely. We used the pliers, too. Oh, but don't worry, I am always on alert, my Chthri. He never was torn. No more scars. Scars are not nice. And we tried the cables but they are too smooth, he doesn't feel them enough any more."

"And did you bruise him?" my voice was placid. I was not sure before, I thought, maybe, it was me so rough to him.

"Oh, did we?" Neaf frowned curtly. "Your little thing copes passably when it needs to lick it from the floor. But if somebody cummes to his mouth he gets it wrong way as often as not. He couldn't breath appropriately after Soyii, so, we had to press on his belly a little."

I buried the arrow deep in my thigh again. It helped me. I was silent. I listened.

"You know, he cannot practically swallow if he is hanging head down," Neaf added. "His eyes become so wild in this position. I like to ejaculate on his face."

The End of Part 7b



Written by Juxian Tang

Now I decided to have some conscience and not to make my readers write me *begging* for the summary (great thanks to everyone who did write me and who cared... and my apologies if I didn't answer someone's letter; I've found out that Hotmail regularly loses some of my mail - so, if I didn't answer, it means I didn't get your letter).

Okay, on to the story. Mind you, I have more details for the next chapters but fewer for the distant ones. Darren meets his drug-dealer and by chance this guy (Jose, as far as I remember) sees Iver and makes the conclusion that Iver is Darren's accomplice. When Darren visits Jose's ship to buy his stuff, he is going to kill Jose so that he can't tell anyone about Iver.

Besides, it turns out that Jose captured some clever alien race species to sell them into slavery and since you know how affectionate Darren is about aliens, he frees them and sends Jose to the space in an uncontrolled shuttle.

Darren forbids the Darloxians to touch Iver but by some mistake they disobey him and Darren finds Iver in a very pitiful state. (Ruthless had a few ideas about it and you know how graphic he could be :-)) Darren freaks out, takes Iver and the autodoc and goes off to purify his honest terrorist name from the accusation of exploding the launcher. He didn't do it, you know? I don't remember if it was clear from what we wrote, we were going to pay it more attention later.

I mean there was a bad competing space company that hired him to arrange the hijacking so that the other space company became un-popular - and Darren was not going to do more than just that. Don't get me wrong, he doesn't have scruples about killing those people - but he was not paid for it :-)

Darren doesn't abuse Iver any more but he keeps him near and makes Iver help him. Well, eventually he doesn't manage to prove that he didn't blow up the ship but, as far as I remember, he gets some money and puts it on Iver's account. As apology, maybe, or, rather, because we needed it later for the plot :-)

He and Iver go to the mutants to sell the autodoc and then everybody is surrounded by UTI and captured. Darren behaves heroically and reveals his true identity to save Iver because UTI think they are mutants, too, and all mutants are sent to some labour camp where they die within weeks.

Darren goes to prison and now my time starts :-) He is getting his share of abuse in my inspired execution :-) Yes, and Jose is there and giving Darren real hard time :-)

Meanwhile Iver tries to return to normal life but it doesn't come off properly. And he realises he can't stand the idea of Darren being in such dire straits. He takes the money Darren gave him and goes back to the Darloxians to tell them that Darren is captured (Darren didn't connect to them but well, he left being angry and they didn't suspect anything.)

The Darloxians and Iver rescue Darren from the prison and Darren and Iver going together to the sunset (to the planet of the species Darren saved from Jose once). End story :-)

BTW, if you wonder about Darren's pre-story (his dead sister, remember?) - here it is. Their father was a priest who tried to spread his religion among alien races. So, Darren and Diane got used to aliens more than to human beings. When their father disappeared in the space, they were put to some orphanage on an artificial planet. Then the war started and this planet got to be cut out of supplies. The teachers and part of children was evacuated but some children stayed, including Darren and Diane. They ran out of food and there was nowhere to get it from because it was a dead planet, actually. There were some cases of cannibalism among those who stayed.

Meanwhile, the war was over but nobody returned to the planet because it was supposed that everybody died there and, besides, the government wanted to cover it. Diane died and everybody else was practically dead when a ship of the Darloxians landed there on some technical reason. Darren was the only one who was still alive and Neaf took care of him until he recovered.

Darren tried, I suppose, to expose the truth about the planet but nobody wanted to listen to him and he started his nasty terrorist business.

So, that's what we had in mind :-) Sorry that I can let you know only in such way - I wish we finished it... Thanks once more for reading!


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