An Alien Love B. 01

Hello again, friends and strangers. This is the next part of my alien tentacle love story. Read at your own risk. This has some themes of non-consent. You have been warned.

Cheers from M from C.M. Moore

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*Chapter 2*

Caught.

The conversation brought him out of his sleep. Murry rubbed his eyes and sat up. Hitting his head on hard metal, his eyes popped open.

"I got one. Father said it was difficult, but he's getting old."

Murry's eyes shot to the voice. A hair-covered creature was speaking to three others. Frozen with fear, the only thing Murry could do was let his eyes take in his surroundings. He wasn't in the house anymore.

The cage Murry had been placed in was against one metal wall. The long room around him had rows of metal crates down both sides with an aisle down the middle. The room smelled of metal and something else he didn't recognize. He sniffed. Blood... but maybe dried and old. His eyes flipped to the floor. Near many of the pens, he noted colored patches of different dried liquid. Gulping on his panic, he scanned his enclosure and then himself. He was still dressed in his jeans and t-shirt. A funny shaped band had been placed around his left forearm. On it, light with a purple hue blinked at him. As much as Murry's curiosity had him wondering what that armband did, Murry pushed the question away. No more curiosity about anything. All he wanted was to be out of here.

He studied his cage. Damn. No door or a lock. The other mini prisons were empty. His eyes shot to the front of the room. Three monsters chatted like men taking a break next to a water cooler at work.

At the far end of the long room was a door next to a large silver table. When the metal opened, the creatures turned to look at the new arrival. Murry didn't think the new guy was going to help him.

A taller fatter angular-faced monster entered. His big hands closed the door with a wide swing. He marched toward the others.

"Well done." The fat monster and Murry made eye contact. "On the ship with no problems?"

"Are we taking him to our home planet?" one of the monsters asked.

"Humans don't last that long."

There was laughter and then more chatter, but Murry didn't hear it. The words home planet had his stomach clenching painfully. These were alien monsters and not nice ones. Were there even nice ones? Up to this point, Murry didn't think aliens existed, and he'd been happy with his ignorance. Gripping the cage bars, frantically, he searched for a way out of his prison. He had to get off the ship before he left Earth.

What if he'd left Earth already? Vomit rose to his mouth.

What had been a simple not wanting to go to the group home for a few hours had turned into a Science Fiction horror story.

When Murry lifted his eyes, the fat one stared at him. The eyes were cold and calculating. He scanned Murry like a meal and his blood went cold.

Scrambling to his feet, Murry's flight instinct took over. Problem was, there was nowhere to go in the tiny cage. He scrambled backward and his shoulders struck the metal bars hard enough to bruise. Abruptly, the cage lifted upward like an invisible hand picked up the entire box. Murry tried to run, but he only made it halfway down the aisle.

Large hairy hands grabbed around his ankles. The claw nails shredded his jeans. Murry fought and kicked, but soon other hands gripped him from all sides. His shirt, what was left of it, tore from his body. Twisting, he tried to get out of the hold, but the creatures didn't seem to be phased by his movements. Murry knew he didn't have the power behind his strikes to make a difference. He didn't eat enough to bulk up, and he'd never exercised or cared about his health. He simply lived every day the same. Now he wished he'd done some damn pushups or sit-ups in his life. His muscles became fatigued the more he tried to struggle. One of the creatures got his pants off his legs as they reached the table.

Thick metal straps wrapped around his body at different points. Wrists and ankles were secured. They placed him on the center of the freezing surface. He was gulping for air after the confrontation, but the aliens didn't appear ruffled by the skirmish. A part of him hoped he panic, hyperventilate and then pass out.

Not being able to talk his whole life had always been his cross to bear, but now he wished he could say something... anything. To beg.

Screaming, he struggled against the straps but nothing he did helped.

"It's loud." One of the creatures muttered.

The fat one walked over to a wall of strange looking items. Although a deep part of Murry knew those things were probably there to torture him, he tried not to think about it. The fat one produced what appeared to be a rubber pole. Two hands held his head as the item was forced past his lips. Murry clenched his teeth until one big hairy hand covered his noise. He gulped for breath. A large hard rod was shoved almost to the back of his throat. Murry gagged but none of the creatures noticed his problem.

"Better." The fat one walked around the table staring at where the ties dug deeply into Murry's skin. The pole in his mouth wasn't going anywhere though Murry shook his head back and forth trying to dislodge it.

When Murry was secured and the item in his mouth wasn't leaving, the creatures all headed to the door. As they chatted by the exit, a thousand thoughts whizzed through his head. How come they sometimes spoke in English and then switched to what was just sounds? What were they going to do to him and why him?

Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes to then slide into his hairline. One stupid decision and he was going to be dissected. Curiosity killed the cat. That's what his mom always said. Yes. He might be the dead cat soon.

"Welcome to our spaceship." The fat one returned and trailed a nail down Murry's chest. "This is your new home until you die, Earthling. Our language-band will help you understand what we want." Saliva dripped onto Murry's chest from the huge teeth. "We will only give directions once."

"If you do not need us, Derbergurs," one of the creatures opened the door. "We will leave you and your son to your new toy."

Two of the monsters walked out of Murry's line of sight. The door closed with a final thud. As he shivered on the table, he tried to process everything he was learning. This was his home? Spaceship? Until he died? That last part had him wanting to piss himself. If it weren't for the fact that he didn't have to pee, there would've been a urine puddle on the table.

The fat alien used his nails to remove his socks. Murry's underwear was torn off next. Shyness was overridden by his fear. The fat one's son began to remove parts of the table. The areas that still supported Murry's frame were his head and back, his feet and calves, and his wrists. The rest of the cold metal was stacked toward the cages. When the son was finished, the two aliens circled him.

"I'm told humans are fragile." The son spoke.

"Very. We don't get them much."

"Why not?"

"The Dagerstanteens protect this quadrant around Earth. But they were too slow this time."

The fat one, as Murry was now calling him, ran his nail down Murry's rib as he spoke. Warm blood coated Murry's skin and he screamed. The burning brought fresh tears to his eyes. The sound was muffled well by the wide pole filling up his mouth.

"He is kind of small for my first." The son moved between his legs and Murry began to cry. He prayed for someone to help him. He begged for this nightmare to end. He hoped he would wake up and this never happened.

"We can get a bigger one next time." The fat one laughed.

Something thick probed Murry's anus. Nails scored his thighs. Pressure on his ass hole went on and on like the son was trying to push a piece of wood covered in steel wool inside of him.

In his head, Murry pleaded. He'd never had sex of any kind with a man or a woman. He begged for the burning stretching to ease. He didn't want to be used. Dissection was better. With the item in his mouth, all he could do was whimper and cry. Murry's calls and weak struggles brought the fat one closer. The fat alien ran a nail down Murry's cheek. Once more he felt the wash of blood.

As much as all the scratches burned, nothing could take away the horrible feeling of something huge, rough, and sharp entering him. Fighting his bond, the widening fire in his hole intensified. Thoughts ran through his head. He was a toy. This was his fault for not going to the bus station. He'd been curious and now this happened. Murry wished he were dead. He was completely horrified that this thing was taking him.

Blood seemed to be creating a lubricant for the son alien as he drove deeper. Murry's blood didn't really seem to help much, but the more the son slid in, the more Murry wondered if this was how he was going to die. Could someone die from sex? Probably alien sex.

"Not so deep." The fat one admonished. "But harder."

Harder? Now Murry was positive that this was how his life would end. A part of him wished for his demise to be swift. Couldn't they just cut his throat?

The fat one waved his hand. "I'll show you."

The son stepped away ripping himself from Murry's body. He screamed as a wave of dizziness hit him.

Closing his eyes, Murry tried to disconnect his mind from what was happening. When he opened the lids again, he wished he hadn't. The son stood at his side. His penis was a swollen hairspray can-shape covered in wiry hair. Between the son's legs was Murry's blood. The son didn't even bother to wipe the red liquid away, but only swiped at the sticky mess matting down the springy curls.

As Murry stared, he figured that the use of the word penis was as accurate a description as he had. Although that shape didn't look like any dick Murry had ever seen. He lifted his eyes to the ceiling trying to remove the image from his brain. He wasn't going to live through this.

The fat one stepped between his legs. Once more Murry shouted and tried to fight the bonds holding him. His yell was muffled by the thing in his mouth. He tried to brace himself for the excruciating agony of being entered.

"Watch me." The fat one motioned to his son.

Murry closed his eyes and searched for anything to think about that wasn't the alien between his stretched open legs. When he was younger, his mother taught him meditation to still his mind. She pushed the quiet contemplation on him when he was raging at his inability to talk. She used guided mediation when he was a child. As he got older, they did yoga and he sat in nature and silenced his turbulent frustrated feelings.

His bohemian hippy mom was laughed at for her efforts to help him cope with his handicaps. Most people said what she taught him he didn't understand. They said she was wasting her time, but he got the hang of it. Now, desperately, he attempted to find that calm place in his head. The lake of serenity.

The pressure against his hole was too intense. Roughly, Murry was jarred back to the forceful stretching of his ass. The widening of his anus was agonizing. If anything, he was being scraped and clawed from the inside. His body screamed as the pressure continued. Unexpectedly, the fat one slammed into him. The pain hit a peak. Murry's world went black.

***

I plan to keep working on this in between my Ice Era Chronicles. I hope you stick with me to see what happens to Murry next.