Xenophilia -- Darius -- Part 3
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This is part of a project to touch up and publish an older series of works I had done in the past, placing them on Literotica. There are quite a few parts, so they will seem repetitive as more are updated, and since they are not being completely revised, they will show their age. It will also take time to update all the parts, so please be patient. Still, I hope you will enjoy them all the same.
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This time when Darius awoke, he would do so feeling refreshed and energised, the only grogginess being from the typical fading of sleepiness people usually experienced when emerging from bed. Of course, Darius was glued to a wall in a resin cocoon, so 'getting up' was not an option for him. He groaned a little, flexing and wiggling in his bondage, wanting to move about; as comfortable as the aliens had made his cocoon, given circumstances, he was growing stiff and sore in the limbs. He wanted to
move
, and not fall prey to the atrophying of muscles in his state, lest he never be able to move again.
Again and again, he hoped the aliens would let him go, if nothing else than to move around, stretch and simply flex himself. Bondage like this, when assaulted with merciless sessions of pleasure and ecstasy, was fun for a while, but would eventually turn maddening and depressing.
Maybe he could convince his 'captors' to release him, somehow. They didn't seem to know a lick of English, or any other language for that matter save their own odd series of growls, hisses and other inhuman noises. But they understood body language, facial features, and gestures, that much he knew, since they used the same themselves. They were expressive, and got their meaning across rather effectively, if somewhat sexually. Perhaps... that would be enough to get through to them what he wanted.
He continued to ponder these things until someone from the opposite side of the passage spoke up.
"Oi, you there, Buzzcut," he said in a distinctly South African accent. Darius looked up, and saw the man -- a slim, dark and messy-haired individual with sharp facial features and bright eyes of a colour Darius couldn't discern in the dark -- looking directly at him, confirming that he was directly speaking to Darius. He was off to the right -- from Darius' perspective -- of the woman directly opposite of him, with another unconscious, cocooned man between them. "Yeah, you."
Darius returned his gaze.
"Yeah? What do you want? Who are you?" he inquired.
"Marcus Crespin, alright? Does it matter who I am? We're stuck in this fuckin' place, yeah? Those things keep raping us over and over again, like we're just breeding studs to them. We gotta get out of here," he answered with no small amount of barb to his tone, indignant that anyone would question him.
Darius conceded his point, that if freedom was an unlikely prospect, they would have to fight for it. But Marcus seemed a little... agitated. Like he was the sort that only considered the short term, with no thought for the long term and how that would affect any plans and actions either of them conceived.
"And how do you propose we do that, man?" Darius responded.
"I don't fuckin' know!" Marcus snapped back, his right eyebrow twitching. "But I sure as shit ain't gonna let them fuck me like a toy anymore."
Darius paused for a moment; he had to remember that perhaps not everyone was taking this as well as he was, that niggling perverse enjoyment ever present in his mind. Not everyone might've felt the same way about their current predicament. Though some of the individuals he saw... well, when they were conscious, being fed by the aliens, they seemed perhaps a bit too enthusiastic about it. Of course, he remembered how greedily he suckled on that one she-creature's tit like it was all for him. He might not be too different from those enthusiastic bunch.
"Are you listening to me?" Marcus snapped.
Darius returned his gaze to the other man, trying to look apologetic, but couldn't conceal his critical expression.
"I am, but we need a plan, because struggling isn't going to work." He wanted to try and calm Marcus down; the aliens might not be too forgiving of too much hostility, and Darius had no idea how kindly they'd take to an escape attempt.
This only seemed to agitate Marcus further.
"What the fuck would you do, then?! Just let them fuck you until your cock shrivels up?"
Darius narrowed his eyes a little now, the other man's attitude starting to grate on his nerves.
"We need to figure out how to escape these cocoons first, and then we have to figure out where we are, how to get out of here, and avoid getting caught in the process," Darius tried to explain. "Besides, they haven't hurt us yet, and they don't seem interested in hurting us either, at least right now... that gives us some time to work it out."
Marcus blinked incredulously.
"Are you fucking
serious
?!" he hissed. "We're nothing but fucktoys to them, you fucking cretin! Just meat to beat and get themselves off with, maybe knock themselves up with little freak shits like 'em! They don't care about us, they just like our dicks, and once we can't provide anymore, they're just gonna bite 'em off and throw us away! The sooner you realise that, you goddamn freak-fucker, the better, because you're gonna wanna ask one for their fucking hand in marriage, I bet, and they're just gonna gut you like a fish andβ"
His tirade was promptly silenced by a chitinous palm pressing to his mouth. He began to scream angrily, shaking his head from side to side as the alien owner slipped down along the wall beside him, until she was standing before him. She kept her hand firmly to his mouth, resisting the shaking of his head, and calmly brought a finger from her other hand to her lips, making a 'shushing' gesture, of all things. But he didn't comply with the alien woman's quiet command, so she removed her hand from his mouth.
There was a brief flurry of angry, colourful expletives that almost split Darius' ears, but that too was cut off, this time by a forceful kiss from the alien. Marcus began to gag quietly, as Darius just saw a glimpse of his throat bulging out ever so slightly, likely from a long tongue probing about in his gullet, the alien's method of silencing him.
He continued to watch as the alien subdued Marcus, and more would reveal themselves, slithering along the walls, ceiling and floor in that graceful, almost reptilian crawling they preferred, groans emanating from people that awoke as a result of Marcus' angry shouting, or the caresses they received from their captors. Darius was no exception, the alien he had come to recognise -- as difficult as that was -- sauntering up to him. His breath hitched in his throat, though he wasn't certain if that was from fear or excitement. Whenever she came to him... it was for rather intense passion.
She stood before him, her lithe, tall figure seeming all too appealing to Darius now. He wondered how she would tantalise him this time. He perversely looked forward to it, whatever it was, to the point he felt his member twitch in anticipation, having learned that her presence, her visits, meant pleasure.
What he was certainly not expecting was for her to suddenly reach up towards his arms, dig her claws into the resin that bound them, and start tearing away chunks of his cocoon. Bit by bit, his body was exposed, as pieces of the cocoon fell away like rocks, though they seemed surprisingly lightweight for how strong the resin was as a whole. He felt one arm fall free, flopping weakly from who knows how long he spent not using it. Then the next one, and it too flopped uselessly. He groaned as he tried to move them, their lack of response at first somewhat concerning.
But soon, after some flexing, they began to obey him, and he would bring them up to his chest. Darius began to tear away chunks of resin himself, the alien not admonishing him for a moment for doing so. He found that it was a bit of effort to remove the resin, and he strained quite hard, but eventually it would give. Though he had to accredit some of the effort to the weakness of his arms, it was striking how easily the she-creature tore the resin away. It was fortunate too that, despite being naked, it didn't feel like wax-paper was being ripped off his skin, and hair with it... he wasn't sure how.
Soon, his chest was exposed, and then his midsection, causing him to almost fall out of his broken cocoon from lethargy. But the alien caught him, pressing him back against the tailor-made depression of the back of his cocoon, smiling deviously and giving him an affectionate peck on the lips before returning to her work.
Darius couldn't help but smile at that, for some reason. It felt... nice, that she seemed to care for him. He felt one leg be freed, and he flexed his toes and foot, limply lifting it to try and encourage some blood flow. And then the next was freed, and finally, after a few more pieces were stripped away... he was no longer imprisoned.
He felt short of breath, for some reason, weak and lethargic, despite awakening with so much energy. He groaned, resting against his Darius-shaped depression until he could muster some strength. If nothing else, the aliens weren't stopping him. Then, with a deep breath, he stepped forward, almost toppling, saved by the alien's tail whipping out and pushing against his chest. The chitinous segments dug in a little painfully, but he didn't care, the save was appreciated. Shakily, he stood up, slowly regaining his strength until he felt stable. And then a sense of bewilderment fell over him.
He had hoped constantly that he would be freed, that they wouldn't murder him once they were done, that he would get to move around again... and now, that it was happening, it almost felt too good to be true, unbelievable. But it was true, and he almost felt like shedding a tear.