Captivated
The odds of just about anything happening in space are so low that when something unusual happens, you have to start asking yourself who's behind it and what their motives are.
The crew of the shuttle stared out the viewports, stunned by the explosion that had almost destroyed us. Even the hardened soldiers and mercenaries were shaken by it.
But I'd already started the necessary line of questioning. Who would've done this... the usual suspects came immediately to mind, and the blast itself, though seen from afar, also seemed somewhat familiar.
But the reports quickly started coming back that it wasn't sabotage after all, at least any form I'd been familiar with. A freak wormhole had opened up out of nowhere, torn the main ship apart, and left us hanging as to our futures.
As the debris scattered I watched the gravity outline of the wormhole tracking across the screens and couldn't begin to imagine how to take my revenge on it.
"It's coming this way," I heard, and indeed, a dark glow coming off it got brighter as it approached, and there was little we could do. Evasive maneuvers, certainly, but to where?
It sliced through the shuttle even easier than the main ship, and then it was dark, a pervasive darkness that cut me off from the world altogether.
When I woke, I was absolutely not where I had been. This was not the vacuum of space; while no planet had been anywhere in range, now I was certainly in a dense jungle.
I worried that I might've landed on an uninhabited world, but when I turned to look behind me that put all doubt to rest--the view was entirely taken up by the massive wall of an enormous cube hanging in the air, an obvious sign of an advanced civilization.
I headed towards it, but it wasn't as near as it looked; as I approached through the thickening jungle, darkness had started to fall and I wondered about the possibility of nocturnal predators.
As I was searching for a good shelter to sleep undisturbed, I began to hear small voices.
They weren't far off.
I moved to a position of relative cover under a massive tree and strained to understand, but I must have been on a remote world indeed, as my translator had no luck with it. It was infuriating--I couldn't tell if I'd been detected, or whether the voices were hostile, or even whether it was really sensible speech at all.
The voices were near and all around me now and still I hadn't caught sight of the speakers through the thick vegetation--until I heard a long call and saw a short, gnome-like creature on a log directly in front of me. No way he could've gotten there without me detecting him. They've got tactical cloaking, I thought. Fuck.
I felt two stinging pricks from either side and lost consciousness almost immediately.
When I woke this time, I was strapped to a table in what was clearly a laboratory of some kind, with walls of stone.
The straps felt like simple leather, but I was secured in such a way that I was not able to move at all; even my head was strapped down, and I could only see the edges of the room around the corner of my vision and the apparatus that hung down from the ceiling above me.
I had no idea what it was for, but it certainly was an apparatus; bright lights shone down on my face, a series of tubes dangled over the rest of my body, and a pair of goggles descended to cover my face. I noticed that it fit my face--either they were used to krogan proportions, which was unlikely, or they were able to make things quickly, which was worrisome.
Then the goggles started flashing random imagery in my eyes.
I could tell immediately that this was not a film meant to entertain me. The glimpse I saw--before I reflexively shut my eyes to block it out--was a scene of a krogan like me engaged in the most compromising of situations.
When the audio kicked in, I knew there could be no escaping it. I kept my eyes shut tightly, strained at my bonds, and struggled to avoid listening to the murmur of soft voices that I couldn't at all understand.
The voices washed over me, over and over, a kind of white noise that in itself was nevertheless compelling. Even though they had no meaning for me, they exerted a...relaxing influence that somehow managed to quell the distress of my captivity. The table began to move, slowly, back and forth, rocking me to sleep while the voices went on like a lullaby.
Every awakening in this world seemed to bring with it a new layer of dread.
I knew, to start with, that I was still strapped to a bed in that alien lab, as I had been for days. Yet the simplistic imagery coming in through the goggles not only compelled me to keep watching--I'd given up that fight long ago--but also seemed more realistic somehow, every lewd action engaged in by the cartoon krogan on the screen finding an echo in my own body.
When images of the little creatures that had captured me were shown penetrating the krogan on the goggles' screen, I felt the sensation of phantom phalluses in my mouth and between my legs.
When they hooked up the image of the krogan to a machine that milked its cock, I felt it as if it were my own, even though I could also tell, by the feel of the free air on my naked arousal, that it was only an illusion.
And when the krogan on the screen blew its load, I couldn't hold myself back--I felt my own cum splattering over my torso as my quad balls worked hard to inseminate the air.
And still the whispering voices went on in the background, massaging my mind in a way--I knew they were altering me, though I still wonder how; the life I'd had before was increasingly difficult to remember.
There was no knowing the passage of time in that lab, and I lost track of the irregular hours that I was fed and maintained by my unseen captors. I only knew it had been several weeks--if not months--because their avatars had appeared in the simulation, had begun training me to serve them, and it was enough to learn the rudiments of their alien speech.
The incessant whispers slowly became comprehensible--quiet commands to let go of my old life, let go of myself, surrender to the whims of my masters, to serve them without question...
My dick was always hard now, desperate for the touch of something real after the endless simulations my programming subjected me to. My body hungered to be penetrated--no, to be fucked like a beast, to be used, to be owned by whoever it was that owned me now.
And still the whispers continued, the programming becoming more intense, training me to submit deeper, deeper and more completely.
I lived through wallowing in their filth till I was begging for it.
I learned to fall in love with the characteristic scents of every inch of their bodies.
And more than anything else I came to need being filled with their seed.
If ever I got off this table--
--I'd show them how good I could be.
And then the day came.
When the goggles were taken off, it took me a minute to get used to the light, to focusing on objects at any distance.
The object of my obsession was there, calmly unfastening my bonds, casually uninterested in me.
"Please let me serve you," I said, trying the words I'd been trained to say for the first time. "Please."
The smaller creature turned to look at me. "I'm working," he said--in my own language. "You'll fulfill your purpose soon enough."
I was harnessed and led out of the lab on legs weak from disuse.
There was still a lot of what was happening that I didn't understand, but I did know enough to recognize a slave auction. I was paraded onto the stage, naked in front of a roomful of various aliens, and got to show off my training.
The bidding didn't take long; I was torn between my bruised pride at what was surely a low price and my need to get off that stage and be mounted as soon as possible. My lust was so overwhelming I neglected to even take note of who'd won me.
Yet even after the auction had ended, release was not in store for me.
I was led away with other slaves, and we were crated up--individually--for transport.
I ached immensely with the need to get off, but that was another thing my training had made immensely clear: my body was for the enjoyment of others, not my own.
I sat there in my crate, unable to touch myself, drooling precum all down my length, and hoped more than anything that my new owner would be as excited about using me as I was.