ALIEN STORY-9
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 9
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