Slaves of Antares -- science fiction or fantasy

By moc.liamg@swerdna.nave.rm

Published on Nov 14, 2024

Gay

Slaves of Antares Chapter two: Priming That Pump Evan Andrews ©2024

This set of stories is not a fan fiction, although it is high 1950s inspired space opera. (So forgive any really dated terminology.) As always, though, I had a cast of faces in mind for the characters, a list of whom follows the story. Your imagination may differ, which is cool.

This story should not be considered a true representation of the sexuality of any of the men in real life.

The story depicts males in pulp sci-fi sexual situations with aliens and other human males. If this offends you, if you are underage, or if reading such is illegal where you are please stop reading now. Thank you.

If you enjoy this story, or even if you hate it, please contribute to keeping Nifty going at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

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Captain Bolt regained consciousness and instantly regretted it. His head ached, his belly hurt terribly, and he was being drug along a metal floor in a dark corridor by his ankles. His arms trailed behind him, and he was jaybird naked. He was being drug NAKED! down some dark corridor by—a glance confirmed—more of the Rag Mops that had stormed the saucer.

Fuck. He was a prisoner of the BEMs.

Bolt tried to get a better idea of where he was, where he'd been, and where he was going. In the low light, though, and with his head bouncing against the corrugated deck plating, he couldn't form any coherent image. Not until they drug him into the chamber, that was.

This room while still dark had maybe a dozen bright spotlights which let Bolt see, and then focus on, the chairs. Five chairs in two facing rows. Five chairs which, from the visible hardware, Bolt could tell were clearly meant to hold a man still while you did something (probably unspeakable) to him. Was this some really bizarre alien interrogation chamber? Well, if so, they'd find that UP fleet officers didn't break easily.

On the walls Bolt saw panels that looked like a more involved version of the Scipio's science and Bones' medical stations, and in the ceiling over each chair hung something like a farm's feed chutes. If they gave out awards for having bad feelings about things, Bolt knew he'd take the prize today. This set-up was one hundred per cent wrong.

Two Rag Mops pulled the human captain to his feet. His legs tried to give out, but they managed to force him towards one of the middle chairs.

"Hey, I can walk!" Bolt protested, though he clearly couldn't. "Get your filthy BEM tentacles off of me!"

Protesting did no good, of course, but that protest was nothing compared to what followed when Bolt got a good look at the chair. Someone had clearly made it to keep a human-sized creature immobile. How convenient. It boasted a strap each for the neck, the chest, and the waist; more straps on the chair's arms for his arms; and a metal frame designed to hold his legs still. And... Bolt was certain the frame that could be used to spread his legs wide open. That was definitely not good. A red plastic covered the seat, back, and arms, and a gold metallic mesh had been worked into the surface. Ominous, but worse was to come.

Bolt finally saw the metallic probe sticking up out of the center of the seat, and he started struggling in earnest.

"Oh fuck no!" Bolt yelled. "You are NOT shoving my ass down on any fucking alien anal probe! Never happening, bud! Never happening!"

The Rag Mops, though, had a different idea, and they were stronger than Bolt. They forced the captain back into the chair and made certain the obscene probe penetrated his asshole fully before strapping him in place.

Fuck! Bolt's ass was in fucking AGONY!

"God damn you, you fucking BEM slime!" Bolt raged as he fought against his restraints.

(So much for first contact diplomacy.)

The Rag Mops ignored the captain's outburst, though, and left the immobilized Bolt alone under his spotlight. Another bout of struggling against the restraints left the human spent, so he had no other option than to sit there contemplating the bite of the tight straps and the oddly warm metal filling his guts from the wrong direction. Filling the human's guts and oozing something inside him, the probe cozied up against Bolt's prostate, and little Bolt got a warm fuzzy feeling that made it want to step up and take notice. Dammit, that couldn't be happening. Bolt liked girls! Period. A steady straight arrow, he had girl on Epsilon Eridani C, and between the promise of her pussy and the libido repressing drugs that were part of ship's chow, he'd never had any reason to explore or experiment. Or even wonder. As far as anus went, Bolt was and had been a complete virgin. But not anymore.

One after another, the Rag Mops drug in more of Bolt's crew and restrained them. The captain was gratified that none of them went quietly. In his row, Garcia the pilot had the far right chair, with the black CMO, Bones, in the chair between them. At Bolt's far left, Security Chief Tan sat impaled, and the crewman they called Big Swede sat between him and Tan. Then the Rag Mops filled in the other row. From Bolt's left to his right they were crewman Rush, Tovey the sciences officer, Daigo the engineer, crewman Coulter, and finally Emmanuel the weapons officer.

Every man screamed when the BEMS forced his ass down on the anal torture device (or so Bolt thought of the probe), humiliatingly impaling him. They all struggled against the straps for a few futile minutes before giving up—just as Bolt had.

Good, there's still some fight in my boys,' Bolt thought. But for how long?'

No UP crew was known to have ever been taken by enemy aliens this way. Bolt supposed that this select portion of his crew had the right to look either frightened, in the case of the crewmen, or, in the case of the officers, resolute. This whole setup did not bode well.

As they sat there, Bolt noticed two things about his restrained crew (after, of course, he could bring himself to look at their naked bodies). Each man now had a subtle gold wire mesh melded into the flesh of his right temple, and each sported a couple of sealed incisions low on his abdomen. Either the BEMs had taken something out, or, worse, they'd put something IN.

Bolt, already angry, now descended into very angry--and a little bit afraid. Capture was one thing. Restraint was one thing. Surgical violation of their bodies, though, that was another thing entirely. What were these creatures planning on doing to them?!

He soon found out. Ten more of his crew, also naked which seemed to be how the BEMs liked to keep their prisoners, walked in. Walked in, Bolt noticed, without being forced or guarded or even escorted. What the fuck was going on here?!

"Joshua," Bolt barked at his XO, "Report."

Joshua, though, ignored both the command and the man.

The unaccompanied men walked in and turned to face one of the men in the chairs.

Garcia and crewman Rock Bones and blond boyish Ensign Brooks Bolt and svelte Ensign Vargas Big Swede and black crewman Coop Tan and black crewman Duarte

Across the way...

Joshua faced Emmanuel Crewman King and Coulter Black crewman XL and Daigo Crewman Duran with his odd collection of tattoos and Tovey The blond firecracker Steele and crewman Rush

Bolt looked the Latino ensign standing naked before him. The young man's abdomen sported no incisions, but he definitely had wire mesh implants—and more of them than Bolt himself had. Vargas sported implants on both temples, as well as a delicate band of gold across his forehead connecting the two.

"What have they done to you, Vargas?" Bolt demanded.

The ensign, however, did not respond.

"Tovey! Analysis."

"They've got, well, we've all got some sort of cerebral implant, Captain. Theirs are just more extensive.

"Implant? What does it do? Mind control?"

"At a guess, Sir, yes. You see how unlike us, they're not restrained physically. They must have been rendered `trustworthy'."

"Bones, if you were free do you think you could get the implants out?"

"I could try, Captain. But as you noted, I'm strapped into some weird-ass alien bondage chair."

"What about these incisions on our bellies? Bones? Tovey?"

"At a guess, another sort of implant, Captain," Tovey said. "What kind exactly, I couldn't say."

`Not good,' Bolt thought.

"The others don't have them," Bones pointed out.

"The aliens clearly expect different things from us than they do from them," Tovey said, and he didn't sound happy as he said it.

`I wonder what?' Bolt thought. He had not disregarded the fact that they were all naked and half of them were restrained with butts full of anal probe. It was suggestive in a way that made the captain uneasy.

Almost in unison, the ten 'brainwashed' crewmen knelt before the men in the chairs. Bolt looked down at Vargas' handsome young face in alarm. The ensign wasn't looking at the captain, but at the captain's cock. Oh fuck. Wrong was getting more so.

Bolt was doubly sure of that when Vargas reached up and pressed a button on the frame which spread his legs wide apart.

"Vargas!" Bolt cried out, and he was joined by all the other men in the chairs. "Belay whatever you're doing, mister!"

Vargas ignored him and instead grabbed hold of his captain's cock around the base, making a ring with his fingers and forcing Bolt's family jewels front and center. Powerless to do anything, Bolt watched in horror as Ensign Vargas leaned forward and licked the bullet head of Bolt's now thickening shaft.

"Fuck! Argh! Vargas!" Bolt cried as the ensign's tongue ran circles around his corona.

Vargas might have smiled—Bolt couldn't see—but the captain knew to the second when the ensign let the weeping cockhead fill his mouth.

"Ooooooooh!" Bolt moaned, and he was joined by the other restrained men. This was worse than bad.

Or so Bolt thought, and then it did get worse. Vargas relaxed his gag muscle and took the captain's tumescent member fully into his hot wet mouth.

"Daaaaaaaaamn!" Bolt screamed, an opinion that was repeated by his restrained fellows.

After the shock of having his shaft surrounded by a hot wet throat wore off, Bolt had time to notice that Vargas might be an even better cocksucker than his girl all those lightyears away. The most important difference was that the ensign was here now and actively giving him a professional blowjob. And, again, up and down the line Bolt heard his men moaning as the alien enslaved cocksuckers went to work. What words they could manage started off angry, but soon enough they turned desperate.

"Brooks, stop that!" "Don't do it, Duarte!" "Ugh! Oh, XL! Stop already!"

Became:

"Yeah, suck that dick, Number One!" "Take it all the way down, Coop!" "Fuck, Steele! That's so good!"

Bolt was on the verge of trying to bark out another set of orders when the probe in his ass started to vibrate. The alien torture device now subjected the captain's anal plumbing to an unendurable torment of pleasure the likes of which he'd definitely never felt—not even his girl had ever been that bold.

"No!" Bolt screamed as the handsome young ensign sucked on his cock and the machine worked his guts—and especially his prostate. "This is wrong!"

Bolt, with his command training, resisted the insidious ministrations. Others of his men, though, proved easier to seduce than the captain. Coulter howled as the probe snare-drummed his love nut, "Fucking me! Fuck! It's turning me into a bitch. And King! Who taught you how to suck cock like that?!"

(Bolt wondered that, too, about the boy feasting on his dick. He'd read Vargas' file when Command assigned the ensign to the Scipio. The boy was promising all around, maybe even command material eventually, and he was totally straight. He'd have to be to get into the fleet.)

Coulter's words, however, only lasted for so long. Bolt noticed how the lanky crewman's body (and those of the other restrained spacemen) betrayed him quickly, and in short order the only sounds he (or any of them) could make were moans and groans of unspeakably wicked pleasure.

Bolt's erection got even harder as the session continued, and though he couldn't speak any more, he could think. How could this be happening?! Staring down, Bolt saw Vargas now looking back up at him, as eager as the day he asked for permission to board Scipio for the first time. The young stud was clearly looking up to gauge Bolt's reaction to his incomprehensibly expert oral ministrations. As Bolt gasped at the sensations wracking his body, he noticed the mesh at the boy's temples; it was glowing.

Bolt continued to watch in horror as the hot Latino boy swallowed him to the root time and again (something his girl wouldn't even try). Glancing to both sides, he saw all the brainwashed men, while sucking away, watched intently as they slowly made their crewmates' bodies burn with illicit lust.

At that moment Bolt realized that Vagas and the others would keep sucking them until they met some threshold. Golden boy Burrows, for example, would keep swallowing Bone's fat black cock. (Bolt had never seen Bones' raw dick before and was surprised at how big the CMO's cock was.) All ten of the brainwashed slaves would keep orally raping their crewmates for as long as was needed. How long would that be? Probably not long. Bolt felt his balls pulling up tight in his sack. He wanted to cum. Needed to cum. But, dammit, he couldn't. Something was still missing.

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At that moment more of Scipio's crew came in—naked, of course, and fit with gold mesh implants like those of their cocksucking comrades. They took positions behind the chairs, and Bolt, caught up as he was in Vargas' oral torment, barely noticed when Galt, the structural engineer, placed his hands on either side of the captain's head.

"Agh! Agh! Agh!" Bolt cried, which in Anglish words translated to, `Cum! Cum! Cum! I've gotta cum! Oh, please let me cum!'

"Agh! Agh! Agh!" the other restrained men cried and whimpered.

Suddenly, monitors on the walls start pinging.

Galt pulled Bolt's head back hard so that the captain found himself staring at the ceiling, not a sight guaranteed to hasten release. Fuck, Bolt realized that he wanted to watch when his cock spat wads of cum into Vargas' mouth. What reality denied him, though, the captain's imagination supplied.

Bolt screamed as his dick exploded, and he imagined his maddened cock hosing Vargas' throat with gallons of hot sperm, filling the boy's belly with more cum than Bolt had ever shot before. (And definitely more than the ensign had ever swallowed.)

"Fuck..." Bolt cried. But his words were cut short.

Crewman Galt slid a jaw spreader into his captain's open mouth and, as Bolt struggled feebly, fastened addition straps to hold the captain's head bent back looking up.

As Vargas sucked out the last of Bolt's sperm, the captain had a front row seat from which to watch the horror of tentacles unfurling from the darkness overhead. They reached down towards the chair-bound men's mechanically open mouths—and towards HIS mouth!

"No!"

As the insidious limb approached him, Bolt regretted always thinking that tentacle rape was just something that happened in those Japanese naughty picture books.

`Nooooooooo!' Bolt kept screaming—until the unfurling tentacle gagged him.

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For what it's worth, this is my fantasy casting for this chapter (your mileage may vary):

In the chairs:

Helm – Lt. Garcia (Tommy Garcia, mma) ; CMO – Bones – Cmdr. Phoenix (Phoenix Fellington, gay porn star) ; Captain – Capt. Bolt (Robert Brown, actor) ; Big Swede (crewman) (Alexander Gustafsson, mma) ; Security – Lt. Tan (Jerome Tan, or Asian Tarzan, fitness guru) // Weapons – Lt. Emmanuel (Manny Pacquiao, boxer) ; Crewman Coulter - Jessie Coulter (gay porn star) ; Engineer – Lt. Daigo (Daigo Atsushi, model) ; Sciences – Lt. Tovey (Russell Tovey, actor) ; Crewman Rush (Matthew Rush, gay porn star) ;

"Free" cocksuckers:

Crewman Rock (Angel Rock, gay porn star) ; Ensign Brooks (Shawn Brooks, gay porn star) ; Ensign Vargas – Lex Vargas (gay porn star) ; Crewman Coop (Race Cooper, gay porn star) ; Crewman Duarte (Will Duarte, gay porn star) // Lt. Commander Joshua – David Soul (actor) ; Crewman King – Kyle King (gay porn star) ; Crewman XL (XL, gay porn star) ; Crewman Duran (Sean Duran, gay porn star) ; Crewman Steele (Marcus Steele, gay porn star).

"Free" monitors

Lt. "Sparks" Hal (Hal Sparks, actor) ; Crewman Maguire (Brad Maguire, gay porn star) ; Crewman Galt (Jon Galt, gay porn star) ; Crewman Wiley (Ed Wiley, gay porn star) ; Crewman Stone (Jesse Stone, gay porn actor) // Crewman Johnson (Kip Johnson, gay porn star) ; Crewman Benobe (Delan Benobe, gay porn star) ; Crewman Waggoner (Paul Waggoner, gay porn star) ; Chief Rush (Lio Rush, pro wrestler) ; Crewman Hudson (Wolf Hudson, porn actor)

Unaccounted for

Astrogation – Lt. Jeremy (Bobby Sherman, singer, actor) ; Crewman E Wolfe (Ethan Wolfe, gay porn star) ; Crewman K Wolfe (Kurtis Wolfe, gay porn star) ; Crewman Matthews (Mitch Matthews, gay porn star) ; Crewman Daigle (Steve Daigle, reality show and gay porn star) ; Crewmen Tony and Gio (Tony and John Alberti, twin brothers) ; Crewman Fosters (Trent Fosters, gay porn star) ; Crewman Leboeuf (Ty Leboeuf, gay porn star) ; Crewman Valderrama (Wilmer Valderrama, actor)


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