Chapter 6: Encouragement

The aliens were at it again. Schaffer was woken by the obscene sounds of their coupling on the cot adjacent to his. He blinked his itchy eyes to see a mass of writhing creatures, illuminated by the orange glow of the fire pits. They were a pile of shifting forms, their white fur and roving appendages blending into a chimera of pleasure and indecency. Trying to get them to stop would be pointless, they’d be at it for hours and would deprive him of sleep in the process.

He rolled out of his cot groggily, scanning the gloom beyond the firelight for a spot where the alien orgy might be out of sight and sound, and where he could sleep in peace. After a moment he spied just such a spot, a small nook behind one of the large support beams that lined the walls. There was a human-sized hole in the primitive, probably hastily assembled structure. He pulled a couple of the pillows from the bed and made his way over, crouching to duck into the opening. It seemed that at some point, the wall had been near collapse. As a result, repairs had been made by bracing the section with logs. Between the log brace and the wall was a spot in seclusion, where nobody would be able to see him, and he wouldn’t be able to see them. This might even be a solution for preventing the morning cat piles that he so often found himself in.

It was already occupied.

Runt was lurking at the far end, almost invisible in the darkness save for a pinpoint of light that centered over his eye. He was peeking at the mating ball that was happening on the cot, sporting a conspicuous, alien erection. Schaffer couldn’t help but look. It was not dramatically larger than a human’s, but it protruded from his fur, red and shiny like that of a dog or a cat. It was lined with small bumps, perhaps some kind of vestigial penile spines, they were felines after all.

Schaffer hesitated at the entrance to the cubby, and Runt noticed him, visibly startled. He made no attempt to cover himself, it was not the shame of being caught peeking, apparently. Perhaps no such shame existed in their culture and Schaffer had simply surprised him.

He considered chasing the alien away, but decided against it. Let him have his fun, he thought, piling his pillows at the other end of the hole. At least the little voyeur was quiet. He lay down on his pillows, crossing his arms and turning away from Runt, closing his eyes and trying to get back to sleep. After a few minutes of trying, he sat up again. He was angry, tired and now sporting his own bulge beneath his suit. It was as if his ears were attuned to the sound of the aliens going at it like giant, horny rabbits, he couldn’t block it out. Every low moan or cry of glee jolted him awake, jarring him just as he started to drift out of consciousness. He looked over at Runt, rubbing his eyes.

Why was the alien hiding here? Half of the damned pack was in that pile, and they had seemed eager to get Schaffer involved whenever he had happened upon such a congregation. Why was Runt merely watching from a distance? Had they excluded him for some reason? It was impossible to tell with these aliens, but Schaffer thought it unlikely. They were promiscuous to a fault, it didn’t make sense for them to bar Runt from the proceedings.

If there was anyone that Schaffer identified with in the pack, it was the relatively small Runt, and he was curious to find out what was going on. It was entirely possible that the alien just preferred it this way, it was not uncommon among humans, after all. But something about his demeanor seemed agitated, unhappy. His gaze through the opening was not covetous or lecherous, but longing. Was he too shy to join in? Unsure of himself perhaps? Judging by his equipment, Schaffer doubted that he would be unwelcome among the pack’s females, but maybe something about being the smallest and likely lowest ranked in the social order held him back.

He crawled closer towards the alien in the confined space, and upon closer inspection Runt looked downright miserable. He wasn’t even getting himself off, he was just staring at the ongoing activities.

“What’s up, buddy?”

Runt turned to him, a sad expression on his face.

“Too shy to get in on the action?”

He had to admit, he felt for the alien. Schaffer had his own conflicts where the sexuality of the pack was concerned, and his own mounting frustration likely mirrored Runt’s. It wasn’t easy to live in such a sexually tense environment and not be able to participate, either through choice in Schaffer’s case, or inability in Runt’s. It brought to mind memories of his own fears as a teenager, the shyness, the dread of trying to approach women without really having any prior knowledge of sex or relationships. Runt certainly looked to be of age, even if it was hard to tell with these aliens.

This should be a simple proposition for Runt, however. There was no courting required, he just had to get out there and leap into the pile of bodies. The other pack members would take care of the rest. Schaffer nudged him from behind, gesturing in the direction of the cots.

“Go on, get in there!”

Runt mumbled something indecipherable, but his tone of voice and the way that his ears and tail drooped told Schaffer that he was unsure of himself, afraid. Schaffer gave him a more earnest shove towards the entrance of the hole this time, pointing towards it. He patted the alien on the back, trying to be encouraging without actually being able to explain his reasoning. He tried to make his voice sound soothing, reassuring, but he wasn’t sure it was working.

Runt shuffled forward begrudgingly, turning every few steps to look to Schaffer for support. He gave him a thumbs up and waved him on, until the alien had exited the cubby and was on his way towards the cots. Schaffer took up his place, peering through the hole in the wood at the roiling mass of aliens. Runt approached slowly, hesitantly, seeming to grow more afraid as his proximity to his pack mates increased. Schaffer’s heart was pounding, why was he so invested in this? Maybe it was a throwback to his days in the UNN, where if word got out that one of the Marines was a virgin, the whole regiment would make it their personal mission to get the poor sod laid.

Come on Runt, you can do this! The alien crept closer and closer to the cot as Schaffer watched with bated breath. He wanted to call out encouragement, but he might throw him off, and the alien wouldn’t have understood him anyway. He blushed as he imagined himself in Runt’s place, a mere meter away from untold pleasures that he dared not reach out and take. Runt was held back by his own apprehensions, Schaffer by his petty human morality. That was the way it must stay, however. While Runt could overcome this, Schaffer must remain stalwart. If everything went according to plan, he might be off this godforsaken planet in a few more days, and all without the dark stain of xenophilia on his conscience. Maybe he was making too big a deal of it. Hell, he had heard rumors about certain personnel on the Pinwheel station who had supposedly bedded Borealans. They were mostly praised as badasses for taking on the challenge, and then surviving it...

No, the only place his cock was going was inside other humans.

He heard Runt speak, a small, mousy noise that was barely audible above the grunting and shuffling that emanated from the bed. The alien looked towards where he knew Schaffer to be hiding, his expression desperate. Schaffer could not provide any reassurance, frustration welling in him as he watched the alien struggle. He looked about ready to bolt.

“Come on, don’t flake,” Schaffer muttered to himself. Runt turned back to the pile and let out a louder call. This one was heard, and the mound of alien bodies abruptly stopped moving. Their heads emerged to see what was going on, their round ears swiveling to track the increasingly frightened creature. Zagza’s massive torso rose from the pile, the veritable wall of fur and muscle eyeing the far smaller alien with his reflective, sapphire pupils.

Runt lost his resolve and turned to escape the intense glare of his pack leader, but in a flash, Zagza had left the pile and had closed the distance between the two. Schaffer’s stomach lurched. Had he encouraged Runt to do something bad that merited punishment? Runt tripped and fell to the dirt as Zagza’s massive, fluffy tail coiled around his leg, easily the circumference of the smaller alien’s thigh. As if he had hooked a fish, Zagza dragged Runt across the floor towards him, eventually lifting him off the ground and draping him over his shoulder as easily as if the seven-foot Runt was a mere toy.

Schaffer’s adrenaline surge abated as Zagza walked back to the bed, where a pile of pack members waited eagerly for his return, practically licking their chops as they gazed at his prize. As Runt’s face came into view, Schaffer saw that his expression was a mixture of fear and delight. It didn’t look as if the alien was in need of rescue. Zagza stopped at the foot of the bed, dropping Runt unceremoniously into the pile where he landed amidst fur and fat. It was hard to make out details through the peephole, but Schaffer spied ample bosoms and thick, heavy bodies as they coiled around the newcomer. Arms rose from the mass to wrap around Runt, a dozen hands questing up and down his torso as they submerged him in the pile, burying him in yielding flesh.

Zagza was sporting his own conspicuous erection of impressive size, Schaffer unable to tear his eyes away from it as its shiny surface glinted in the firelight. Much like Runt’s member, it was a rod of rosy flesh covered in small bumps, its tapered tip leaking clear fluid in anticipation. Unlike Runt’s, however, it looked to be nearly as long as Schaffer’s forearm and almost as girthy. The burly male returned to his place in the heap, Runt letting out a cry of surprise that turned into a low, sultry moan as the pile began to move again.

With that, Schaffer returned to his pillows. His cock throbbed and ached after witnessing the scene. He was proud of Runt, and he was glad that he had been able to goad the little alien into overcoming his fears, but it left Schaffer more frustrated than ever and oddly jealous.

You could do it too, nagged a voice in the back of his mind. You could walk over there and bury yourself in that pile, enjoy the pleasures of whatever it was that was making Runt cry out like that.

Schaffer banished the intrusive thoughts, shifting his position on the ground and trying to get comfortable. But as the sounds of passion assaulted his ears, he doubted that sleep would come easily.

Schaffer achieved some level of sleep, the kind where you don’t quite fall into a deep, satisfying slumber but rather skirt the edges of unconsciousness. The noises did eventually abate, but his frustration was overcoming him. At least he was alone now, out of view of the curious aliens. Perhaps he might finally have an opportunity to relieve himself without being observed or interrupted.

He undid the clasps on his suit in order access his loins, slipping his hand beneath his underwear and trying to think of something more wholesome than what he had been subjected to over the past week. Damn it, his hand was like a block of ice, the ground was hard and uncomfortable beneath him. Come on Schaffer, it’s just a biological need, get it over with.

It was slow going, but he worked up a rhythm, getting into the mood as he tried to conjure up memories of his last shore leave. Just as he felt as if he might have a chance, he was interrupted by a large, crouched shape entering the cubby.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, fumbling to stow his erection as the enthusiastic alien shuffled closer to sit in front of him. Runt was talking and waving his hands, too fast for Schaffer to make anything out, even if he were able to speak the language. He seemed to be attempting to relay to Schaffer his exploits, perhaps thanking him for his encouragement. Runt slowed as he glimpsed the erection that Schaffer was trying to slip back into his pants, staring at what was to him an unfamiliar, alien organ. Couldn’t he have waited just another couple of minutes before barging in on him? A fresh wave of frustration overcame Schaffer as he tried to fasten the seals on his suit.

Runt plunged his hand into Schaffer’s crotch without warning, his soft, silky fur tickling the head of his cock. Schaffer yelped as a wave of unwelcome pleasure washed over him, his member bouncing up to meet the grasping fingers. Schaffer pushed the alien away, a little more violently than he had intended, preparing to scold him. Their culture might be different, but unsolicited groping was over the line.

But when he looked at Runt, he wasn’t lecherous or excited, nor was he ashamed or embarrassed. There was concern in his eyes, almost begging to be allowed to help. He recognized Schaffer’s frustration. Maybe it was obvious, maybe the alien could smell his pheromones, but it made Schaffer regret pushing Runt away.

The sensation of his velvet palm on Schaffer’s glans had felt amazing, electrifying, and he was already halfway there when the alien had disturbed him. His member pulsed and ached as it protruded from his suit, the cold air blowing across it. Arousal muddled his thoughts. This was all they wanted from him, all that they had asked of him. To give in and become one with their pack, to give himself over to them and allow them to bond with him in their base, primal way. He realized that he was breathing heavily, his heart was pounding in his chest, and his legs were trembling.

God, he needed this, he needed it so badly. If he was going to give in, should he not go find Osha? She had expressed her interest before, and he had snubbed her, but at least she was female. Hell, they were all aliens, what did it matter?

Just this once. Nobody would see them here, nobody would know. At that moment, Schaffer wasn’t thinking about how he might feel the next morning, just that he craved release.

Runt seemed to sense his compliance, leaning forward and wrapping his hand around the human’s member like a mink glove. He was careful to keep his claws away from the shaft, stroking gently, letting his silky fur tickle the human’s skin. Schaffer reeled, already sensitive from his fruitless masturbation. This new touch sent pangs of pleasure shooting up his spine, ringing his brain like a bell. He relaxed back onto the pillows, his mind seething with protests and guilt, but overridden by his arousal.

Runt leaned in closer, examining his strange organ. Those of the aliens were pink and tapered, covered in dull barbs like those of a cat. Schaffer’s shaft was smooth, covered in skin with a shiny, blunt head. It must have looked bizarre in comparison.

The curious alien ran his fluffy fingers up and down Schaffer’s length, the delicate strands of fur setting his senses aflame. The alien’s coat was so impossibly downy and velvety, to have it stroking him in this way was maddening. His impromptu partner paused at the tip, pulling back his foreskin experimentally, his feline eyes widening as he exposed Schaffer’s glans to the cool air. A shiver passed through his body as Runt pressed one of his fleshy, spongy pads against the tender flesh, wetting it with a bead of his leaking pre and making slow circles. This rosy, smooth material was at least familiar to the alien, more similar to his own strange anatomy.

Without giving him an opportunity to protest, Runt pressed his smooth lips against the tip of Schaffer’s penis, the alien’s breath warming it. Schaffer covered his mouth with his hand to suppress a moan as Runt slid his lips over the glans, taking it into his mouth. It was hot and slimy, the alien’s silken cheeks pressing around him as he sucked gently, made slick with his saliva.

Schaffer felt his will to resist drain from his body, his muscles relaxing as the sudden rush of unexpected sensation sapped his strength. He sank deeper into his nest of pillows, meeting Runt’s gaze for a solitary moment as the alien peered up at him, those blue eyes flashing in the gloom. He was so eager to please, Schaffer’s heart skipping in his chest for a moment, his cheeks burning hotter as he averted his eyes and stared intently at the ceiling above them.

He shuddered as he felt Runt’s long, winding tongue coil around him, as dexterous and as gentle as a hand. He had secretly admired their obscenely long, tapered organs from a distance, to have one of them winding around his length and lapping at his tender head made his knees go weak. It had the texture of satin that had been soaked in slime, its somewhat rough surface brushing against the sensitive underside of his glans, teasing him. He delved his fingers into the alien’s hair, gripping it as Runt explored his anatomy with his tongue, slipping the tip beneath his foreskin and sending jolts of tingling electricity through Schaffer’s nervous system. He twitched and gasped, holding onto Runt as if for dear life.

He felt like he was losing his mind. The alien was a natural, the raw, dizzying pleasure contrasted by his doting and gentle demeanor. Every stroke of that wet, hot flesh against Schaffer’s skin conveyed Runt’s yearning to see him satisfied. No human partner had ever been so devoted, was this just gratitude for giving him the push that he had needed, or was it something else?

Stars danced before his eyes, and his hips began to squirm, desperate for more stimulation as Runt slowly crawled his smooth lips down to the base of Schaffer’s cock. He kissed the human’s belly, his squirming tongue wrapping around the entire length of his member like a constricting snake. Schaffer grunted as if he had been punched in the gut, straining to avoid releasing into the alien’s mouth too early. The thought shocked him, but he wanted this to last longer, he wanted to enjoy it. He had come this far, why not let the situation play out to its conclusion? Would he be any more ashamed of himself in the morning if he let his adoring, generous partner bring him to completion?