Close Encounters of the Fourth Kind
By Commander in Chief
Author's note:
The following text contains graphic descriptions of nudity and sexual acts between adult males. If it is illegal to read such material where you live or at your age, please refrain from continuing.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased is purely coincidental.
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Part 2
I gasped. As the rush of sensations on my skin slowly faded, I took a deep breath. In. Out. Then another. The atmosphere smelled faintly damp, and slightly oily, but not unpleasantly so. Wherever I was, it seemed human-habitable. I tried moving my arms and legs again, but to no avail. The messages just weren't getting to my limbs. Nor could I move my head. I tried to make my mouth and tongue form the shapes to make words, but I was unable to utter anything more than a grunt. Still, it was a start. I was alive, conscious, and in a breathable atmosphere. My eyeballs didn't seem to be affected, and I looked around.
I stared at the dark on not-dark pattern in front of me trying to make out any details. The light seemed to be getting brighter - either that or my eyes were adapting to the gloom. Without any reference, it was impossible to tell how far away it was. The blob in the middle looked vaguely X-shaped. I deliberately looked away, using my peripheral vision to get a different view of the blob. Yes, definitely X-shaped, with a smaller blob in the top vee of the X. Suddenly I realised what I was looking at, and I gasped again in dismay. Surely not!
As the light level slowly increased, my suspicions were confirmed. The shape opposite me was a human figure, arms and legs outspread. I knew with dreadful certainty that I was looking at one of my crew. In another few minutes I was able to discern the unmistakeable beard of Red, my XO. My heart sank. Red was the most experienced of my crew, a veteran of two deep space missions and countless shorter ones. If he had been captured, then what chance did the rest of my crew have?
I examined his form in the dim light. He appeared to be wearing the standard GSC-issue flight uniform of dark blue stretch pants, light blue tight-fitting long sleeved pullover, and black boots. Comfortable, practical, and except for the boots, exactly what I had been wearing inside the EVA suit. Unable to look down at myself, I assumed I was still wearing my uniform. As I stared at my XO, I noticed some darker patches near his wrists, upper arms, and chest, but it was still too gloomy to make out any details.
Sensation was slowly returning to my body. Whatever had happened, the effects didn't seem to be permanent. Soon I was able to wiggle my fingers and toes, and I tried again to bring my hand up in front of my face. This time I could actually feel my biceps bunch, but try as I might, I was unable to move my arm at all. I relaxed my arm and took stock of my surroundings.
The space I was in seemed to be four or five meters across, and maybe the same in height. I couldn't discern any walls on either side, but as I was still unable to turn my head, I couldn't be certain. Although I was immobilised, there didn't seem to be any appreciable gravity - after many years of zero-G space flight, I trusted my gut in this as much as my other senses.
The light continued to grow brighter - I estimated it was now almost enough to read by. It had no obvious source, and judging by the colours of Red's beard and pullover, I figured it was slightly bluer than what we were used to. It seemed to be a uniform all-enveloping glow. Perhaps it was light from the star, piped or diffused into this strange chamber. Or maybe it was some sort of bio-luminesce. I shuddered at the thought that we might be inside something that was alive.
I couldn't hear anything - no machinery, no hums, nothing mechanical. Fortunately, there were no sounds of life either - no gurgles or wheezes, no sound of alien fluids being pumped through unfamiliar organs. No scuttles of insectoid feet, rustling of wings, or crunching of mandibles. . . shit, what was I thinking? I was letting my imagination get the better of me! I pushed those nightmarish thoughts into the background and tried again to say something, but could only make incoherent panting noises. The sounds were swallowed up by walls of the chamber, and there was no echo.
I focused again on the figure of Red opposite. The dark areas that I'd noticed earlier now looked vaguely sinister, positioned as they were at his wrists, upper arms, and across his chest. And in the stronger light, I could now also make out similar darker areas near his ankles, knees, and hips. His eyes were closed, and there was a band of something across his forehead, passing above his ears. And almost hidden behind his beard, I could just make out the shape of something similar around his neck. Realisation dawned. They were restraints! Was I similarly restrained? Unable to look down at my body, I could only assume that I was. Why else was I unable to move? Who or whatever had captured us had pinned us out like butterflies in a case! In a surge of rage, I clenched my fists and tried to bring them together. I felt my pecs tense and strain with the effort, and although I could feel the resistance of something holding back my wrists and my elbows, I was barely able to move my hands more than a millimetre or so. Sweat broke out and beaded on my forehead. I tried another move, pushing back with my legs and shoulders, trying to arch my body up and away from whatever I was pinned against, but again, the restraints only allowed a tiny amount of leeway. I closed my eyes, sagged, exhausted by the effort. As I relaxed, the restraints seemed to ease then tighten - or was that just my imagination?
When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I noticed was that Red's eyes were also open. I watched his face for any sign of recognition, but it was impossible to tell how awake he was. It had taken me, what - two hours? ten hours? who knows? - to come to. But then again, I didn't know how long he had been hanging in the darkness opposite. The brightness level in the chamber seemed to have steadied. It was hard to know for sure, but I guess it was about as light as an overcast winter's day back on Earth - plenty enough to make out the details of how he was restrained. Smooth, dark, ropes of something, each as thick as my thumb, were coiled around his wrists and ankles, wound two or three times around. Similarly, his arms and legs were lassoed at points just above his elbows and knees respectively. Two pairs of slightly thicker ropes circled his hips and chest. A single strand of the stuff went around his neck. Something different was around his forehead - it was thinner and wider, more like a belt or a strap than a rope. I couldn't see any knots or loose ends anywhere - the ropes seems to disappear behind him.
Red groaned. He was awake! The strap around his head flexed slightly - I saw this - and I watched, fascinated, as a flush of blood started at his hairline and extended to his face and neck. A minute later I saw his hands and fingers twitch. He shivered, just as I had. He shuddered again, and I saw his legs tense and relax. His eyes closed, but I continued to watch him. After a few minutes his eyes snapped open again, and this time he stared at me. I imagined that I saw confusion and anger in them. He tried to say something, but all that came out was a series of breathy gasps. He flicked his gaze left, then right, then settled on me again, eyes slightly bugged out. I tried to communicate via my own gaze that I was OK, that we would be OK, but I don't know whether he understood. I wiggled my fingers, and saw him wiggle his in reply. He gave me the OK sign, and I gave him the thumbs-up in reply. A wave of relief washed over me. I hadn't realised how scared I was, but this simple gesture - thumb touching forefinger - was the best thing I think I'd ever seen.
I don't know long how we hung there, looking at each other, but it seemed like hours. Both of us tried to speak, but neither of us could make any sound other than a sort of panting grunt. It was frustrating, and we soon gave up. Every so often we'd flash each other the OK or the thumbs-up, but that was the limit of our communication. I remember at Command school hearing about this old-timey message code: apparently when there actual ocean-going navies, they used this system of long and short sounds or light pulses or whatever to spell out the letters of each word. I mean, shit, how slow would that have been? But now, hanging on some alien's trophy wall a hundred light-years from home, I had all the time in the world, and I wished I'd paid more attention in History class.
Lost in my thoughts, I gradually became aware that something had changed. I felt the movement of air against my face. Red must have felt it too, because he slowly wiggled his hand - a leaf fluttering. I flashed him the OK sign in return. Whatever it was, we were in this together. I caught the hint of movement out of the corner my eye. Something was moving in the chamber! I glanced upwards. There it was! Something moving in the space above us. A thin, dark sinuous shape dropped into my line of sight. It was smooth and black, and it flexed like a snake. Involuntarily, I recoiled, but I was held fast by the restraints. The thing was about 3cm in diameter, and tapered to a blunt point at the end. It waved as if sensing the air, and as it did I noticed its surface was filigreed with a fine mesh. It glistened like something covered with polished leather. Then it moved towards me. I felt the bile rise in my throat as I desperately tried to escape, but the restraints were as unyielding. In desperation, I screwed my eyes shut, willing it to keep away. I heard the blood roaring in my ears. For the longest time I kept my eyes closed. Finally, I opened my eyes, and as I did, it touched the tip of my nose.
I went wild. Or I would have had I not been so tightly restrained. The idea of some alien. . . THING . . . touching me triggered something in my subconscious that I had never been aware of. Every muscle in my body tensed and spasmed as I tried to jerk loose. The cords in my neck stood out as I desperately tried to turn my head away. Without being aware of it, I was making some rhythmic but incoherent panting sound. It was no use. I was pinned tightly to the wall, immobilised by the tight coils around my limbs and torso. Finally, the panic attack subsided, and I retained some control over my breathing. I looked over at Red, ashamed that he had seen his commander in such a state. He flashed me the OK sign, eyes signalling a question. After a minute, I gave him the thumbs up.
The alien. . . tentacle thing hadn't moved, and was still handing right in front of my face. I felt it touch my nose again, and I shuddered, but managed to keep the panic at bay. Then it started moving slowly over my face, just the tip of it touching my skin, as if it was measuring the shape of each plane and ridge. It wasn't slimy, as had feared, but not was it dry exactly. When it touched my lips, I thought I would gag, but I managed to control the urge. It circled down my chin and along my jaw to one ear, then up through my hair and over to the other ear. I felt the very tip of the thing explore the folds of my ear, bending and moving the skin and cartilage as it did so. Apparently satisfied, it returned where it has started, hovering just in from of my eyes.
Then it moved over towards Red. I saw him tense all his muscles, but like me, he was thoroughly restrained. Perhaps because he had seen it examine me first, he didn't panic - or maybe he was in better control of his fear. It repeated the feel of his face, but spent some additional time exploring his beard and moustache. Then the tentacle started moving lower. It traced a path down his throat, but hesitated at the collar of his pullover, as if sensing the change from skin to fabric. After a few seconds, it started moving again, trailing along his collarbone to his shoulder, and starting down his arm. When it reached the cuff of his pullover, it paused again briefly, before moving onto his wrist. I held my breath, wondering if it was going to explore his hand. It it did, would Red try to grab hold of it? How would it react? Perhaps whatever mind was controlling it was aware that we had been signalling with our hands earlier, because it ventured no closer to his fingers.
Instead it moved quickly back along the length of his arm, and stopped at his throat. Something changed near the end of the thing - the tip narrowed and the glimmered briefly - and then it slid beneath the collar of his pullover. Red flinched. I saw the outline of the tentacle moving quickly down the centreline of his chest to his waist, and then without warning, the fabric of the uniform top came apart. It looked like a clean cut - the was no fraying - and I wondered what sort of edge could do that to GSC mil-spec clothing. The tentacle moved back to his shoulder, and slid down his arm. The restraints at his elbow appeared to slacken, allowing it to pass inside the loops. Once it reached his wrist, it cut through the length of the sleeve, which fell away, leaving his arm bare. It did the same on the other sleeve, and suddenly, Red was naked from the waist up.
My XO is a hairy man, and the thing spent some considerable time exploring the fur on his chest, shoulders and arms. It seemed particularly interested in the longer ginger hairs in his exposed armpits, and in the swirls of fur around his belly button. If I didn't know better, I'd almost say it was sniffing him. But it wasn't done yet. It slid down one flank, under the waistband of his pants, and snaked down one leg, the stretch fabric plainly marking its progress. Again, it was able to cut through the material quite cleanly and without any apparent effort. In a few seconds, it had done away with his pants and jock. I thought his boots might prove more difficult to remove, but it made short work of them too. Holy crap, that was some sharp edge indeed that could cut through leather reinforced with kevlar! I flashed Red the OK sign and he replied with a hesitant thumbs-up. It spent another few minutes closely examining the thick bush of ginger hair between his legs. I couldn't shake the idea that it was smelling him.
The tentacle swung back towards me, and it was clear that my clothing was about to be removed as well. I think if someone forced me at gunpoint to take off my clothes, I could probably handle it. Or if they were removed while I was unconscious. But having them cut off while I was awake but impotent seemed infinitely worse.
I jerked as I felt something move against amy ankle - I had expected it to start at my neck as it had with Red. My skin crawled as I felt the tentacle slowly sliding up my calf. When it reached my knee, I felt the coils there relax slightly to allow it to pass under them. It slid up along my thigh and past my hip, and when it reached my waist, it stiffened, vibrated for an instant, and then I felt the sudden cool wash of air on my leg. It repeated the manoeuvre on the other leg, and just like that, my pants and undershorts were gone. It dealt with my pullover just as efficiently. Pinned to the wall, unable to move or speak, and now stripped naked, I had never felt more helpless. When I looked over to Red, his cock was hard, the circumcised tip bouncing slightly with his pulse. In the absence of gravity it was nearly touching his belly button. And to add to my shame, I felt a heaviness in my groin as my own cock slowly filled with blood and stiffened to match.
But it seemed the examination was not yet over.
to be continued