Outpost: Hetero Edition
Chapter 7: Going Native

Copyright© 2017 by Snekguy

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 7: Going Native - When he uncovers corruption in the heart of the Pinwheel, Schaffer is made to disappear, sent to die in a remote region of Borealis. PLEASE NOTE: There are two version of this story, one includes bisexual and gay scenes, please ensure you're reading the one that appeals to you! This is the HETEROSEXUAL version.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Reluctant   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Fiction   Military   Science Fiction   Aliens   Space   FemaleDom   Rough   Group Sex   Orgy   Polygamy/Polyamory   Cream Pie   Oral Sex   Petting   Voyeurism   Big Breasts   Public Sex   Size   Politics   Slow   Violent  

Schaffer donned his cloak as the pack geared up for their trip. He still wasn’t sure just how far it was, but the aliens were bringing supplies of food and fuel, all of their weapons, and plenty of tools. Each carried a heavy pack laden with goods, and they were wrapped in layers of protective clothing. Shorts and vests, cloaks and shawls, some even wore long hoods to protect their ears. This was going to be a serious ordeal, Schaffer realized. He would have to trust the aliens to keep him alive.

What had they even been doing so far out when they had found him in the snow? Was the food situation so desperate that they had to range so far away from their longhouse in search of prey? He hadn’t seen any real indication of that while he had been staying with them, food had been plentiful.

Zagza ordered everyone into a column, leading the way as they left through the main doors. Scarface was already outside with her spyglass, scouting ahead in search of danger or opportunities. Osha walked up behind Schaffer and scooped him off his feet, into her warm embrace. She cradled him, wrapping him in her fur cloak, and he gripped her like a baby monkey. It still made him feel comically useless, but he just couldn’t keep pace with the aliens in the deep snow, and Osha certainly wasn’t inconvenienced by him. She must be strong enough to lift ten Schaffers. Perhaps if he were to sit in her backpack with his torso poking out it might feel more dignified, but by carrying him in her arms she also shielded him from the wind and bathed him in her body heat.

It was the only way he’d ever make it to the outpost as anything other than a frozen corpse.

They marched for what must have been hours, the giant aliens never tiring and never faltering as they made their way through the snow. Schaffer’s vision was obscured by the cape that was wrapped over him protectively, his only indication of movement being Osha’s loping strides and heavy breathing. He could feel the wind and snow tearing at the cape, blowing and tugging at it, the freezing cold penetrating its surface. It was frigid, the very air itself almost hurt to breathe, fingers of ice tearing at his throat and lungs. Even in Osha’s arms there was ice matting the fur of his suit, and his breath turned to crystals as he exhaled. His limbs were stiff and he couldn’t feel his fingers or toes.

Perhaps this was folly, and it would have been better to take Zagza’s advice and stay at the longhouse. Life there was surely preferable to death in the snow, but he had to try for the outpost. Not only for his sake, but for the aliens who had rescued him.

He was shivering violently, and Osha had noticed, her pace slowing and her muffled voice calling out to her comrades. He felt her free hand slip beneath the cape to probe at him, taking his hand in hers to test his temperature. It must have felt like a block of ice to her, because her finger moved up to his nose to check that he was still breathing, feeling his breath on her fleshy pad.

“I’m still here,” he said through chattering teeth. The cape was pulled away, exposing him to the wind and blinding glare of the fluorescent sun reflecting on the snow. He blinked his eyes as they adjusted, realizing his lashes and eyebrows were caked with ice. A few members of, the pack crowded him, concern etched on their expressions. Zagza barked something, and they pushed closer.

Schaffer realized they were pressing in on him, forming a shield of warm bodies encircling him that would block out the snow and cold, like a colony of emperor penguins. Another female pressed against Osha from the front, it was hard to tell who was who with all the hoods and shawls, and he found himself sandwiched between the two women. He was surrounded by warm fat and soft fur, almost engulfed by their bosoms. Their combined body heat was intense, and although it did not immediately drive off the cold, he felt the warmth beginning to seep through his clothing.

He looked around him, his head barely protruding from the combined cleavage as the women locked arms in an embrace. It looked as if the whole pack was piled into a group hug, and he could feel the mass of aliens shift as they tried to press closer, concentrating their body heat with Schaffer at the center.

He was touched, these people who had only known him for little over a week really cared about him, they wanted to protect him. They must consider him to be a member of their pack now, part of their family. They were built for this environment, but they were obviously cold too. Even they had piled on layers of extra protection for this trip, yet they suffered the winds and snow for his benefit. He fought back a stray tear, lest it freeze in his eye. What compelled them to such feats of selflessness for the sake of some alien who couldn’t even speak well enough to thank them?

They stayed that way for at least a half hour, and Schaffer felt his arms and legs limber up, and feeling return to his extremities. It was downright sweltering now, the aliens could produce an incredible amount of body heat when they were together. This was the same technique they had used to thaw him when they had found his frozen body, he realized. Osha and the other female cradled him in their arms still, fat, heavy breasts wrapping him like a hotdog in a bun.

He felt ready to continue, and gave his customary thumbs up. Zagza called out, and they returned to their column, Schaffer wrapped safely in Osha’s arms again as the pack marched over the snow drifts.

Zagza called out something in their native tongue that Schaffer did not understand. Schaffer felt Osha stop, then lower him into the snow. He ducked under her cloak to see the outpost a short distance away. It was surrounded by snow drifts and covered in hanging icicles, the massive satellite dish protruding from the roof through the constant blizzard of airborne powder that was blown by the winds. It looked like some kind of steel monument in this desolate, windswept wasteland.

The pack seemed unsure, waiting for Schaffer to lead them to an entrance. What must this place look like to their alien eyes? He marched forward, the cold immediately beginning to tug at his suit the moment he left Osha’s shadow, and marched towards where he knew the entrance to be. The pack followed him, craning their necks to look at the dish as it loomed over them. Schaffer had not locked the door when he had left on that fateful day, intending to end his own life, there had been no reason to. Now he found the heavy metal door ajar, a pile of snow penetrating the interior. No matter, it would be no less frozen. He shoved his shoulder against the door and it creaked open on its hinges, Schaffer stepped into the gloomy interior. The aliens followed cautiously, crouching in order to pass through the human-sized opening. Fortunately, once inside most were able to stand almost erect, as the ceiling was fairly high to accommodate all of the electronics and ventilation systems that ran through the building. Only Zagza and a couple of the aliens who were over eight feet tall had to stoop.

Some seemed curious, their eyes wide and bright, and their ears swiveling to track the unfamiliar sounds of wind on metal. Others were afraid by the alien structure, sticking close together lest some unknown threat emerge from one of the corridors to attack them. Schaffer had but one objective in mind, get through the main computer access door. If he could gain access to those controls, then he could reactivate the generator, and with the heating and lights. That was the most important part, he wouldn’t survive here unaided for long if he couldn’t get the furnace going.

He made a beeline for the central hub, where the door was located, gesturing for Zagza to follow him. Fuck codes and fuck locks, he had a plan to get inside that room, Zagza was going to rip it off its hinges or dent it in. They reached the door, Schaffer glaring at it like an old adversary. He looked to Zagza, then demonstrated that he needed access by tugging at the handle. The tall alien leaned down and gripped the handle in his massive hand, tearing it from the door with a primal grunt in one smooth motion. Schaffer stood wide-eyed. Well that wasn’t really what he had meant, now they had no other choice than to kick the door in, oh well...

Schaffer gave it a kick, then slammed it with his shoulder to no avail, trying to show Zagza what to do. The alien got the gist of it and raised his clawed, paw-like foot, slamming it down on the door with enough force to ring the metal like a church bell. The sound reverberated through the corridors as Zagza prepared for a second blow, his spring-like muscles storing energy enough to likely kick a truck over. The second blow visibly dented the door, leaving deep scratches in the metal where Zagza’s claws had scoured it. Schaffer took a few steps back, worried the forces at play might somehow hurt him. He didn’t fancy taking an airborne lug nut to the face or something similar.

Zagza hit it again with a grunt, and it buckled, without quite breaking away from the hinges and locking mechanism. The damned thing was reinforced, probably to prevent tampering, but Zagza’s kicks had the power of a pneumatic battering ram, the engineers couldn’t have accounted for this. One final kick did the job, knocking the door backwards as the hinges gave out, breaking away from the door frame. The lock remained intact, slipping out of its mechanism in the wall, a long, thick rod of steel. The heavy door clattered to the floor, and Schaffer stepped over it, surveying the computer room. There was a pylon in the center extending from floor to ceiling, the mechanisms that controlled the dish must be contained within. Built around it was a console bank, covered in innumerable buttons and switches, with display monitors that were currently dark. There was power to the computer however, the status lights on the console were blinking, which meant that the auxiliary power source was online. That was a relief, if the computer had switched from the main generator to the backup, and the backup had been somehow damaged, they would have been screwed.

Zagza seemed hesitant to enter, and waited outside as Schaffer walked over to the console, examining it. Most of these functions likely controlled the satellite dish and communications equipment, which was not his priority right now. All he had to do was access the central computer and change the power state of the building. The computer was powered up, but it wasn’t in user mode, all of the displays were dark.

After a moment of searching he found a switch that was labeled ‘set user mode’, and flicked it. The monitors came to life, displaying a brief diagnostic screen before booting into a user interface. Schaffer located a trackball and a keyboard embedded beneath the largest monitor, and started to explore the menus. Before long he had located the power settings for the base, and it appeared that he did not need an access code or a password as he had feared. The designers of this system must have assumed that whoever gained access to the room would have the necessary clearance, judging by the elaborate and heavy duty locking mechanism on the thick door.

He changed the settings so that the outpost’s systems would draw power from the main generator, and grinned as the lights flared to life and the rumble of the heating system echoed through the walls. Almost immediately a warm breeze began to emanate from vents in the roof, ruffling the fur of the aliens. The ventilation system must not have had time to freeze over again in the week or so that he had been absent. Schaffer grinned, running his fingers along the wall as he left the room, the layer of ice that coated the metal was already beginning to melt.

He shuffled past the line of aliens who were waiting in the corridor. While the ceiling was high enough for most of them to stand comfortably, they were almost all too wide for the narrow hallways, making two aliens passing each other practically impossible. He pushed the main entrance door closed, struggling against the wind and snow, trying to prevent the heat from escaping. It shut with a click, and he turned to look at the aliens. They were standing around, clearly enjoying the warmth that had begun to radiate through the building, but unsure of what to do next. Better show them around, he didn’t know how long they would be staying here.

He showed them the various rooms of the building, the crew quarters with cots where they could sleep, the food preparation area, the storage room where they could pile the substantial gear and the supplies that they had brought with them. It was a shame the pipes still weren’t working, perhaps they would thaw as the building heated up, though the aliens were no strangers to melting snow for water. Though the outpost was cramped compared to what they were used to, the aliens enjoyed the warmth and they seemed to find the miniature human furnishings and tools to be entertaining. Yuka and Yura stormed through the base examining every curiosity they could get their hands on, and Runt trailed after Schaffer, seemingly unsure of himself in this new environment. Zagza explored the base from top to bottom, as if he wanted to create a mental map of it, or ensure there were no dangers here that could harm his pack.

Schaffer was a little worried about the food situation, the aliens had brought a substantial supply of meat with them, but knowing their appetites it might not last for more than a few days. He didn’t see Scarface anywhere though, and assumed that she must be out scouting for food sources.

Oh well, he was sure the aliens would be fine, the next priority was learning how to used the damned satellite dish and the communications equipment in order to send a message to high command, or the nearest UNN fleet, or anyone who might listen. It must be operational, the base was still trawling local communications for sensitive data and transmitting it to the UNN, he might not even need to re-aim the dish in order to get his distress call out, just find a way to alter the outgoing packets.

The problem was, it was all custom, non-standard equipment, with no user manuals anywhere in sight. If Schaffer was going to learn how to operate the system, he would have to do it on his own.

He spent the entire day poring over the controls and menus, trying to create some kind of cohesive map of the system. Despite being an engineer, it was slow going, whoever was intended to operate this machine would have had training in advance and the system was not designed to be user friendly in the least. Despite being too small for the aliens to pile up in the way that they liked to, everyone seemed to have chosen sleeping arrangements in the crew quarters, and Schaffer was happy to select an empty bed with no fear of waking up to an alien’s furry rump perched on his face. The rooms were evenly heated now, positively balmy, and in contrast to humans it was the heat that seemed to make these aliens sluggish, rather than the cold. They lounged and lazed like a pride of lions, this was the first time he had ever seen them so exhausted and sleepy, but they seemed quite content. He saw no reason to think they might overheat, this building was not warmer than being in close proximity to a fire pit, it was just a lot more consistent.

It seemed some of the aliens had elected to remove the mattresses from the bed frames, which were far too small for their exaggerated height and weight, and had put them on the floor side by side to create a soft carpet for them to sleep on. The pack was spread between the several crew quarters, with maybe four aliens to a room, they weren’t large enough to accommodate many more.

Schaffer wandered between the rooms searching for somewhere to sleep, ideally with an intact bed, but it seemed as if the aliens had cannibalized every last one. With a sigh of resignation he selected the room that contained Osha and at least two other lumps of fur that he couldn’t identify, occupying a pile in the center of the room, lying down on their carpet of mattresses a short distance away. It was hot enough that he felt no need to huddle for warmth, hell he might even be able to remove this damned suit if he could find some human clothing, but one thing at a time. For now he was tired and wanted to rest, he’d need to be alert and sharp if he was going to unravel the secrets of the satellite console.

As he started to fall asleep he felt something brush his leg, jolting him awake. One of the aliens was flicking their tail around, probably dreaming. He began to doze off again, then a second time the tail bumped him. He grew annoyed and rolled over to see what was going on, to be met with the sight of Osha engaged in a deep, obscene kiss with one of her bunk mates while the second watched with longing eyes. Osha was leaning over the smaller female, one of the bead women, and plunging her long, coiling tongue into her mouth. The woman’s breath came in staggering bursts as Osha ravished her, one furry hand gripping her chin to keep her from turning her head away, flashes of pink tongue and wet sounds escaping from their locked lips. The woman was positively writhing under the assault, eyes closed and voluptuous body twisting and jerking, rubbing her thick, meaty thighs together. Osha was dominant, predatory, clearly having fun with her victim as she drove her knee between the woman’s thighs, pressing into her groin and eliciting a squeal of delight that made Schaffer’s member pulse and ache as he watched in stunned silence. They were a mere meter away, he could reach out and touch them if he were so inclined, delve his hands into their soft, supple flesh and join the pile. But no, he had come this far, just another day or two and he might be out of here. He tried to pull his eyes away from the scene, but they were drawn to Osha’s slippery, serpentine tongue as it slid out of the bead woman’s mouth like a pink snake. How was it so long, so agile, if she were to kiss him with that organ she might choke him. He watched, face beginning to burn and erection fighting against its constraints as her tongue slithered back into her mouth, linked to her partner’s lips by a strand of thick, clear saliva. Osha moved her mouth downwards, sinking her teeth into the woman’s neck, biting and mouthing through the soft fur as if the woman were her prey and she was delivering a killing blow. The woman arched her back and struggled, but Osha held her locked in an embrace, her thigh grinding against her groin and her hand gripping her face. The woman struggled against her assailant, as if trying to fight her off, but her low moans and soft gasps betrayed her. This was all part of the chase, part of the game, and she was loving it.

The second bead woman shuffled up behind Osha, wrapping her arm across her large body and sinking her clawed fingers into her fat, weighty breasts. She kneaded and squeezed, Osha’s ample bosom spilling around her hand and warping. It looked as if she were kneading a giant blob of dough, Osha’s flesh was inhumanly soft and malleable.

Schaffer felt as if he were going insane, he couldn’t take his eyes off them. He remembered Runt, how the alien had been dragged into the pile of mating aliens by Zagza, the low cries and muffled groans of ecstasy that had emanated from within. What had happened to him in that mass of aliens? What would happen to Schaffer if he followed Runt’s example? That long tongue would break him...

He realized he was trembling, his hand subconsciously moving towards his groin. Osha had tried to include him before, but he had turned her down, Runt had only needed to ask and they had gleefully included him in their sordid proceedings. He felt the request rise to his lips, but stifled it quickly. What was he thinking? These were aliens. Yet the pressure was building up inside him, a violent desire that refused to be contained.

“Osha, Schaffer wants ... to come...”

The aliens stopped their writhing, and three heads rose from the pile to stare at him, blue eyes reflecting what light there was in the semi-darkness. He immediately recoiled, regretting his outburst and hoping that they hadn’t understood.

“Shoofa...” Osha crooned, her voice low and sultry. A wide smirk spread across her face, and he felt her fluffy, sinuous tail coil around his ankle. His heart pounded in his chest as she dragged him across the mattresses. The two women had abandoned their prior activities and were waiting for Schaffer to be pulled close enough to grab, like tigers waiting to be fed at a zoo. Schaffer resigned himself to his fate, a fresh excitement growing in chest, and butterflies swarming in his stomach. He wanted this, he needed this so badly, time to give in and let it happen.

Three pairs of hands grasped at him as he came into range, Osha sat up and trapped him against her breast, locking him in her furry arms. Her muscles bulged, even through the fat and fur, her embrace was like iron. Her chest spilled around his head, heavy boobs engulfing him, with a weight that would rapidly become uncomfortable. It was like having a fully loaded military rucksack perched on each shoulder.

The two women came in from the front, eager to get a look at him, and they began to fumble with the clasps on his suit. They knew how it worked better than Osha did, as they had modified it with the pelts, and soon had his bare chest exposed. One dragged her claws down from his clavicle to his navel, not applying enough pressure to cut, but just enough to leave red trails in his skin. They had probably never seen a naked animal like this before, his smooth, pink hide must be a novelty to them. He gasped and squirmed, the welts stinging slightly, heightening his senses.

Osha’s warm breath tickled his hair from above as she watched, breathing heavily, her massive chest rising and falling on his shoulders. He couldn’t move his arms, she had trapped them at his sides, which at once made him feel vulnerable and oddly aroused. This was their party now and they were making it clear that he would have no say in it, Osha having long since discovered his penchant for becoming compliant when held for long enough.

Stars danced before his eyes as he felt Osha’s long tongue worm its way down to explore his ear, the hot, slimy organ teasing his earlobe and circling the opening. She sucked the tip into her mouth, chewing it softly with her sharp teeth. Schaffer struggled and writhed in her grip, it was almost too much for him to tolerate, but she did not release him. Her body was so warm against his back, he felt as if he were melting into her.

The two women struggled with his underwear, eventually releasing his throbbing member to bounce in the air. They looked at it with curious eyes, it was so alien to those that they were used to, shaped differently, clad in smooth skin. One gripped his shaft in her hand, fluffy fur teasing him as she stroked it, pulling back the foreskin and seeming to understand how it worked. She rubbed one of her fleshy pads on the exposed tip, making Schaffer jerk and wriggle in Osha’s arms. The larger alien laughed at him, her breath blowing his hair.

“Shoofa...”

He craned his neck to look up at her, eyes bleary and unfocused. She caught his chin in her thumb and forefinger, holding his head, then leaned down to deliver an upside-down kiss. His body jerked as her tongue pushed past his lips, his gasp of surprise and delight muffled by the thick, muscled organ. It just kept coming and coming, her huge tongue filling his head, coiling and twisting, teasing the roof of his mouth and his inner cheeks. It reached the back of his throat, exploring his esophagus, and he clenched his fists, fighting back a gag as tears welled in his eyes. She withdrew slightly, sensing him tense up, and contented herself to wrap his tongue in a prison of slippery muscle, her large, puffy lips closing around his.

He had never been kissed like this before, so impossibly deep, so impossibly ravenous. His mind clouded and his body went limp, his brain unable to do anything more than process these overpowering sensations without overloading. He felt Osha’s second hand close around his neck, gentle, yet firm, asserting her complete control over their coupling. All he could do now was let her have her way, he couldn’t have fought her off if he had wanted to, and he didn’t. His brain fizzed and popped as she locked him in her kiss, parting her thick lips occasionally to let him breathe. Her lung capacity must be immense, he felt as if she could keep this up for hours. She tasted of metal, her viscous saliva mingling with his own, dripping down his chin in globs.

He shuddered in Osha’s embrace as he felt a new sensation, slippery, wet heat encircling his member. He shook his hips, gripping the fur of Osha’s enormous thighs in his hands and attempting to loose a muffled “Oh God” that was stifled by Osha’s roiling tongue. One of the women had wrapped their tongue around his cock, slipping the tip beneath his foreskin and painting it with saliva. It was rough, the textured surface covered in tiny bumps and papillae, but coated in lubrication it felt almost intolerably good. She took more of him into her mouth, closing her lips firmly around the tip and crawling them slowly down his shaft. Her tongue wound around him tightly, tracing the lines of his bulging veins and scouring the sensitive underside of his glans.

He started to become light headed as Osha’s relentless kiss continued, grunting as he felt the woman’s lips press against the base of his member. She had taken him all the way into her warm mouth, her tongue squeezing and stroking with all the agility and dexterity of a fist as her throat struggled against him, twitching and milking as she swallowed him deeper.

The second woman joined in now, running her fluffy fingers over his exposed chest, exploring him, pricking him with her hooked claws to draw out gasps and shudders that seemed to entertain her. Her mouth found his neck, and Osha released her grip on his throat to allow the woman access. He tensed as he felt her carnivore teeth press against his jugular, her tongue sneaking out to drag across his skin, leaving trails of slick drool. She alternated between biting and mouthing, covering his neck and shoulders in soft bites and lingering, sucking kisses. The first woman continued her maddening blowjob, beginning to slide her pursed lips up and down his length, pausing when she reached the glans to suck and lick, before pushing down again, taking Schaffer into the tight depths of her throat.

Schaffer loosed a sound he had never heard himself make before, which made Osha draw back for a moment to check that he wasn’t in some kind of pain. He blushed redder and squirmed as she gazed at him with her blue eyes, her concerned expression turning back to a salacious grin. She leaned in to chew his ear again, putty in her hands as woman two ran her claws and fluffy, velvet fur over his skin, and woman one closed her lips around the base of his cock.

He couldn’t tolerate this for much longer, his entire body was aflame with pleasure, every weak point, vulnerable area and erogenous zone was being bitten, kissed, licked or teased. He felt as if he were being slowly eaten by the pack as they worked him over. The second woman who grazed his shoulder with her teeth was being a little rough, but that only served to excite him further. He felt soft, slippery lips begin to slide up and down his member more ardently, the first woman was bobbing her large head fervently now, driving him closer to the edge. Her thick saliva escaped the corners of her mouth as she pressed down, lubricating his cock in a layer of warm drool, falling free and matting the fur of his suit.

Osha had stopped kissing him now, but her eyes were fixed intently on Schaffer, watching him shiver and gasp. It was almost as overpowering, and he felt his cheeks sear with fresh heat as she scrutinized him, her eyes lurid and her tongue escaping her mouth to wet her lips in anticipation. The second woman moved lower towards his hips, biting and licking his ribs on the way down. Osha pressed her cleavage around Schaffer’s head in her absence, her musky, deeply sexual scent flooding his senses and her warm fat pressing against his cheeks. Her hands wrapped him again, holding him against her body, perhaps awaiting the building orgasm that welled in his loins.

The second woman reached his crotch, joining her sister. He yelped as he felt a second tongue slip beneath his shaft, seeking out his balls and wrapping them, teasing the sensitive skin. His vocalizations were stifled as Osha pushed a thick finger into his mouth, careful to avoid cutting him with her pointed claw. It was fluffy and felt strange on his tongue, but he sucked obediently, Osha leering at him as her eyelids drooped. He had a feeling that this was only foreplay to her, she couldn’t blush but her chest was heaving, her powerful heart pumping, and the wetness between her thighs was starting to leak onto the mattress.

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