Xenophilia - Xander -

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.

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. There will also be some questionable content, and due to said age, may not be presented in the most palatable manner, as much as I may have believed I did those years ago. Please keep this in mind.

* * * * *

Xander banged his head on a locker in dismay, lost in the sheer hopelessness of the situation. He was a janitor, not a soldier! How could he possibly fight those things with nothing but the mop he was using to clean up a coffee spill outside of the warehouse offices. They were monsters that moved faster than he'd ever seen in any sprint race, and they were so

quiet

for their size. How could he compete with that? And now he was trapped in his own little 'office', which had his bed and most of his cleaning supplies, plus a small kitchenette. What was he going to do, try and live his life in here?

He was meaning to get some supplies from the requisitions office before the monsters invaded, so he didn't have much food to begin with. He knew he should've tried to get permission to transfer to another colony when everyone started disappearing... but all minor personnel transfers were restricted to the end of the month.

"No doubt those bastard WeyYu types did this... they knew, they had to," he muttered. He was only thirty years old, and he was going to be hunted down like a dog by some alien monsters he could hardly see.

He wanted to sob, but Xander took a deep breath. "It's okay... you're near the landing pad. Remember that little place you had to clean up after that one asshole?" he said to himself. "Go there, you'll be safe from those things, and you'll be able to see if any ships come or go... got it. You got it man."

Inwardly, he was very much doubtful of his ability to survive his journey, short as it was, from his office to the landing pad.

But if he did, he might be able to last long enough for a rescue to come and pick him up... if not, well, he wasn't going to live long staying where he was. Steeling himself, Xander made his way over to the kitchenette, and began rummaging through the cupboards and the fridge, filling up a small bag with items he'd need to last in his intended hiding spot; a few bottles of water -- he usually carried some with him whilst he was out and about throughout the colony cleaning -- and what remaining items of food he still had left; a few crackers, some sweets and dehydrated fruit. It would have to be enough.

With one final, hesitant pause at the door to his janitorial office, Xander would consolidate his resolve, holding a heavy flashlight in his hand, mostly to use as a weapon -- one he very much doubted would save him if it came to that -- and less to light his way. He creaked the door open, peering out one way and then the other, seeing if there was anything lying in wait for him. He saw nothing, just empty corridors strewn with paper where people dropped their nonessentials and tried to flee or hide... though, at the end of the corridor in the direction he had to go if he wanted to make his way to the landing pad, were conspicuous claw marks raked into the panelling of the wall.

He paled and gulped audibly; if those things did that to him, he'd be dead instantly, and if not, and they didn't finish him off right away... it'd be a slow, painful death. Hopefully they were merciful enough to make it quick. With that in mind, he slowly and quietly crept forth from his office, looking down one way and back the other, hoping he was not being watched.

He saw no eyes in the dark or sinister shadows lying in wait for him, so Xander decided it was now or never. He quietly made his way down the hall towards the claw marks, much as he wished to just hole up in his office. He was already contemplating whether this was a bad idea, but now he felt he couldn't turn back. He made a right turn, following the signs that said 'CUSTOMS AND PROCESSING'.

It seemed odd to him, since they rarely got 'immigrants', and wouldn't get many more new arrivals until much more construction had been concluded... well, he doubted they would get

any

new arrivals now. This place would be as good as annihilated once people find out what happened here... he just hoped that, if he was successful, he could reach out to any investigative or supply vessel that came before that happened. Tell them to leave, get away from this hellish place. At least, that was the plan.

'

Small steps, Xander, small steps,'

he thought, reminding himself not to get ahead of himself. He still very much expected those aliens to suddenly find him, and kill him.

He gave a broken vent grate lying on the ground a wide berth, his eyes fixed to the hole in the ceiling that connected the room to the ventilation network, the ducting a favourite route for the creatures to ambush their victims. Xander only knew this because he saw several of his fellow humans dragged kicking and screaming into the ducts by surprise, only to be silenced moments later. He could not hear what happened to them, but he dared not picture what they did to those they caught, only hoping that such quick silence and the noticeable lack of gory sounds to accompany it meant if it truly came to it, death would be quick and painless. Hopefully.

He grimaced, and shook his head; he knew his chances were slim, but he had to stop thinking on it if he wanted to even

have

a slim chance. Otherwise, he'd make a mistake that would definitely assure his death. He had to keep moving, and not dwell on what may lie in store for him... it certainly was not healthy by any means, and certainly not helping him escape his current situation. Still, he could not help but have morbid thoughts that gnawed at the back of his mind, constantly reminding him of death that might lurk around any corner.

Xander made his way through the eerie, abandoned hallways and corridors, and was forced to go through a tight tunnel connecting the main colony with one of the Transportation Processing Centres, praying one of those things didn't attack when he was in there; he'd have no way to defend himself in such a tight space, just wide enough for two people to walk abreast comfortably. There was a larger tunnel for freight, but it connected to the warehouse directly, so he couldn't get to it from where he was.

Fortunately, he was not ambushed as he made his way through the connecting tunnel, emerging into the Customs and Processing offices. It was a large room lined with seats and benches along the walls and placed in the middle of the room, with one wall dominated by an office and counter, among other items meant to streamline processing of new arrivals. Of course, there were no people here now. Along one wall was a window, which gave a view outside to the landing pads; there were four of them, all large enough to fit a fairly sizable shuttle, set a bit below the surrounding buildings.

Behind the pads was a jagged rock formation that created a sort of cliff, a structure built into the side of it and surrounding the pad. One of them led to the communications tower, which sat atop of the formation high above. In some ways, it was a bit of a treacherous approach, but there were wide open spaces and approaches from every other direction. If anything, the rocky formation served to make pilots more cautious and not grow complacent, as one of the traffic controllers once told him.

And his destination was right by one of the pads, under a walkway that surrounded the pads and connected the various surrounding structures. It was an old cargo container that had been used to bring construction supplies when the colony was in its earliest days, and instead of removing it, the workers just built over it and left it there. He remembered it because some junkie almost overdosed in there, suffering from withdrawal since his usual drugs couldn't be shipped in, forced to make any sort of substance from ingredients on site... he was lucky he survived. Xander was not so lucky to have to clean up after he projectile vomited all over his little haunt.

But any residual sputum that he didn't get to was hardly anything compared to the slim chance of survival. He made his way over to the airlock that led outside; fortunately, the atmospheric processor at the colony ensured the outside atmosphere was perfectly breathable, though Xander wasn't too savvy on the details.

The electronic signs in the entrance tunnel flickered, various messages talking of an emergency underway. He wondered how many people tried to come here in hopes that they would be rescued soon... and where they'd all disappeared to. He didn't want to think about it. He would open the door to the outside, the automatic locking sequence apparently disabled by the emergency alerts. Good thing for him; he'd forgotten the codes to the external airlocks, and the customs entrances were on different codes as well. Procedure, it seemed, saved him, because other external airlocks were

not

on a similar failsafe system. The door hissed open, and the cold wind whipped at him as he heaved the door ajar a little faster, before peering outside and seeing if there was any danger.

He didn't see anything, not at first. He slowly crept from the door, and felt a chill down his spine, and not from the chilly air; there wasn't much in the way of cover here, and though the wide space certainly robbed those monsters of their advantage in tight spaces, it meant for certain that they'd run him down regardless, since he wouldn't be able to duck and weave around corners... not that he really could anyways. He'd started to develop a bit of a gut, and he'd put off going to the colony gym due to work reasons. Now he regretted that a little. Still, too late to stop now.

He continued forward, glancing around, looking for danger and making sure nothing was prowling around him, waiting and watching for an opportunity. He began making his way down one of the steps to the lower landing pads, when he heard a noise behind him. He whipped around, and shone his flashlight onto the wall above the airlock he'd just emerged from... illuminating the shape of one of those creatures, its eyeless visage 'looking' right at him, hanging onto the wall with one hand, before jumping down to the ground in his direction.

"Shit!" Xander spat, whipping around and making a break for the container on the opposite side of the pad. He could hear the creature crawling up onto the pad just behind him, adrenaline pushing his body as fast as humanly possible. He just had to get away from it at all costs, he couldn't be caught, not now, not when potential safety was so close. He knew those containers, they were incredibly difficult to break open from the outside if they were rigged to be locked from within, and this one was, courtesy of the junkie.

He reached the edge of one of the pads, ignoring the steps and instead scrambling up the rocky terrain that surrounded them. There were several metres of bare rock between the edges of the pads and the surrounding walkways, to give some measure of safety from thruster wash. He could hear it behind him, claws sinking into the rock just as he reached the walkway above. He didn't climb over the edge though, he needed to get beneath it. He found the container, nestled underneath one of the stairs, and he called upon one last surge of strength in an effort to evade his pursuer.

He closed in on the container, seeing that the door was cracked open. Though he didn't have time to feel relief at that fact, it did mean he didn't have to waste time opening it. He closed the gap, and practically slammed against the door, fumbling with the handle and swinging it open, before trying to slam it shut behind him. Chitinous arms reached through the gap and tried to grab at him, but he struck at them with his flashlight.

There was an angry hiss, and the limbs retreated, and he slammed the door closed, quickly locking it from within before he got into a tug-of-war with the creature in trying to keep the door shut, a contest he would assuredly lose. He latched the fairly well-made makeshift locking mechanism, and threw himself down onto the floor of the container, panting, his chest heaving. He felt pain in his torso, a result of the strain he exerted, feeling tight and causing him to worry he was about to have a heart attack.

A few minutes passed, however, and he began to calm down, breathing out an emotional sigh of relief; he'd made it. Sure, the creature could wait him out, but Xander, a bit more optimistic now, hoped that it would either get frustrated and leave him alone to find other victims, or it would be scared off by any landing ships. There was only one little window in the container, and it was fairly reinforced, and far too small for anything to fit through if it was somehow forced free of its frame. It overlooked the landing pads and allowed some measure of natural light to shine through. Not just that, he'd be able to feel any ship landing just from the rumbling they made alone, that he was certain of.

He slumped against the wall, and groaned emotionally; he was still in a dangerous situation, but he hoped now that his chances had improved. Maybe he would finally be able to rest since this entire crisis began.

Suddenly, a quiet noise echoed up from the back of the fairly spacious container, causing him to freeze, and his blood to chill. He tensed, and slowly looked towards the noise, lifting his flashlight with a now shaking hand, illuminating the rear of the container...

There at the back, crouched one of those creatures, revealed to have a set of feminine lips twisted into a devious grin. Xander shrieked in panic, and that prompted the alien to lunge at him. He threw himself backwards, trying to scrabble away from it as it grabbed at his legs. He tried to kick at it, but the flailing of his legs only seemed to cause his pants to slip down his body, the creature seemingly tugging on them, no doubt trying to drag him closer to it and catching only his work pants in the process.

"No, get away!" he cried, his efforts to free himself hampered by the entanglement of his pants as they slipped lower down his body. His shoes followed, tugged off in his mad flailing to put distance between him and the monster currently bearing down on him. Soon enough, his pants and shoes were completely removed, leaving Xander in his underpants, not that he was particularly concerned with that. He swung his flashlight around, trying to ward off the alien, but its tail whipped forth from the darkness and grasped at the torch, wrenching it from his grip.

Now, with no cudgel to defend himself with, and nowhere to go, the alien began to approach him slowly, whilst Xander slowly crawled backwards, his face pale and his body shivering in terror. His back pressed up against the door of the container, beginning to breathe hard. The alien drew closer, each placement of its hands and feet seemingly deliberate, as though it were toying with him.

The torch was still in its tail, casting light all over the interior of the container, until the alien was practically atop of him, an oddly sweet breath washing over Xander's face. He could see its face, too fearful to properly note its oddly humanoid features. It hissed quietly, Xander feeling lanky, sharp fingers wrap around his thighs near his pelvis, holding him place... before the creature lowered its head between his legs... and started licking all over his crotch with a slow, deliberate effort.

Xander gasped and shivered in complete shock, feeling its slimy, dextrous tongue slip around his penis still contained within his underwear, slow and erotic. It slid and slipped around his flaccid bulge, moisture seeping through the artificial fabric already, just barely wetting his member. Its saliva was cool, and its feminine lips rather soft against his flesh through the material of his underpants. A groan left him, and his cock began to erect despite his fear. He began to pant, his member finding the attention it was receiving quite delightful, tingling sensations of pleasure radiating from his genitals.

He grew more rigid by the moment, his penis, once tucked up in the confines of his garment, now beginning to form a tent in the material, and slowly, straighten out and attempt to push out over the hem of his underwear. The alien was thorough, its impossibly long and flexible tongue grazing along the underside of his balls, pushing against them and further fuelling his arousal.

His tip soon emerged freely from his pants, and a gasp was earned from him as he felt the thing's lengthy tongue slither up to rub his glans with the tip of its muscle, each caress sending practically electric signals through his body. He was too weak to resist this, his mad dash before having sapped him of his stamina and strength. He was helpless to this thing's lusty advances.

It dropped the flashlight it had stolen from him, the torch landing and spinning about as it clattered to the floor, happening to provide enough illumination that allowed Xander to identify more features of the... woman? Indeed, whatever it was, as inhuman as it was, it appeared female, a set of rather distracting breasts hanging from its chest, smooth inner thighs and a shapely rump. It appeared to only have half a face, feminine enough but only just below where its nose would've been, the top half of its face was instead covered by a smooth, semi-translucent, domelike carapace that swept over the entire topside of its elongated skull.

Nevertheless, the creature seemed more than humanoid enough to be doing what it was doing, much to Xander's incredulity; why on earth would it be doing this to

him

? Why would it even be doing this

at all

? It should've been turning him inside out with its sharp claws, pointy teeth and the vicious blade that tipped its tail.

Instead, it was sliding its lips further up his length until the moist oral petals were grazing against the base of his glans with an utmost care and lustful attention, its slippery tongue wrapping around to tease the sloping side of his cockhead, causing another shiver to race up his spine. One of its hands slid sensually off his thigh, moving with a delicate grace to his crotch, proceeding to tantalisingly cup his balls in 'her' delicate fingertips through his nearly stripped undergarment.

It started to massage his testicles, whilst sliding its lips over to his back so that 'she' could suckle on his sensitive frenulum, its tongue retreating to its mouth so that it could prod the bridge of skin with the tip of its slippery muscle. It made him gasp, forcing groans from his lips, his face now thoroughly flushed red with arousal, whilst his head swam with utter confusion.

'

What... is it... doing?'

he wondered with incredulous concern. Surely they hadn't invaded this colony

just

to molest its inhabitants, right? In a twisted sense, he could understand creatures snatching up humans or other lifeforms to reproduce, though he honestly expected a more... violent encounter. More gory. Not a nice, exotic fellatio that seemed unnaturally practiced, and with care and intention to just what areas it was trying to stimulate. It breathed out against his tip, letting his glans be awash in cool, tingling breath before its tongue coiled around his glans and gently squeezed it like it was a tentacle.

'She' suckled to the sides of his tip, gently smooching him, drawing her lips together and sensuously slipping them off his tip. It was a most erotic sensation, like he was being tended to by a professional, and expert who knew her stuff, with the added advantage of inhuman traits to make the sensation feel so much better... especially when she slid her lips to the top of his glans so that she could slide her lips down to his corona... and letting her tongue coil down around his girth until he felt the tip of her muscle teasing between his balls, still held within his undergarments.