Page 26 of Thwack!

MJ didn’t feel like he needed to know alien pronouns, but his dick found the information interesting. If he was going to be probed, he would far rather be probed by a man. Which was ridiculous. He didn’t want to be probed. Or so he told his disbelieving dick. He couldn’t help checking out the aliens’ groin area. They didn’t appear to be wearing clothes, but they didn’t have any genitalia on display either, at least not that he could discern.

Gabu made a sound like he was clearing his throat, and MJ raised his gaze back up to eye level. Whatever was going on in that area, he was apparently not supposed to be staring at it.

“The data we’re recording is highly important to our mission,” Gabu said. “We seek to determine whether our species can crossbreed with any of the species on Earth.”

MJ raised his eyebrows. “Um, I’m not breeding with anyone. First off, I’m male. I don’t know how it works on your planet, but human males don’t have kids. And secondly, I’m gay. So I’m not about to get anyone else pregnant either.”

“Gay?”

MJ crossed his arms over his chest. “Haven’t you done any research into human sexuality?”

“We’ve examined a great many specimens. Indeed, we have already sampled fully a third of the species on Earth.”

“Yeah, well, humans are different from the other ones. You can’t just kidnap us and conduct experiments on us and force us to carry your offspring. There happens to be a concept called consent.”

The aliens put their heads together and sang. Or that was how it sounded to MJ, though it was apparently a consultation of some sort because they eventually separated again and Gabu said, “We will examine you as planned.”

Oh, they would, would they? If MJ had been asked, he might have said yes, because the thought of being probed by aliens wasn’t awful as fantasies went, but if they weren’t going to be nice about it, then he wasn’t going to make it easy on them.

He raised a foot, aimed it squarely at Gabu’s midsection, genitals or not, and delivered a solid blow that had Gabu staggering backward through the open doorway.

A ridiculously short time later, MJ was thoroughly subdued. ‘Don’t fight with aliens on their own ship’ was the lesson he’d just learned because not only had it been two against one but the ship itself had helped by snaking articulated robot arms out from various ports to wrap and bind him.

Now he was in what he presumed to be the medical bay, tautly suspended by his wrists and ankles, face-up in a naked spread-eagle. All of which was bad enough, but he’d been gagged on top of it. That part might be his fault because he’d done his best to bite anything that came in reach.

He hadn’t managed to get in more than a nibble, but the aliens now understood that his mouth was dangerous and had taken steps to neutralize said danger, leaving him utterly defenseless. The best he could do was squirm, rippling his body in small waves that only illustrated how completely he couldn’t move.

And everything was on display. The ship’s metallic tentacles had separated his legs so widely he could feel his asshole winking at the aliens, and the fact that Hilu and Gabu were gloving up couldn’t be a coincidence. But the piece of his anatomy most clearly on display was his cock, which lay half hard against the curve of his balls. He’d been telling the damn thing to stand down since he first caught sight of the aliens, and he wished he had even a loin cloth to bury it under.

Hilu and Gabu, their three-fingered hands ensconced in glowing purple rubber, approached.

“We must spread him wider,” Hilu said. “We must have clear, unobstructed access to the entry port.”

“That’s not an entry port,” MJ grumbled, but only in his mind because the gag didn’t permit talking. “It happens to be an exit port.” Not that a few things hadn’t entered that way over the years. “And also, if you spread me any wider, I’m going to snap like a wishbone.

Unfortunately, his mental mumbling didn’t stop the aliens from trying to spread him wider. Gabu issued a command and the ship pulled harder. MJ tried to scream.

“Maximum separation achieved,” a robotic voice said.

Gabu eyed MJ’s spread-eagled self with displeasure. “It’s those fleshy parts that must be separated,” he said, pointing at MJ’s ass cheeks. “Wider separation of the legs won’t achieve the desired result.”

Hilu nodded sagely. At another order from Gabu, more metal tentacles snaked forward, attaching themselves through some sort of suction to MJ’s ass cheeks. And then, with inexorable force, his cheeks were pulled firmly apart. He’d thought himself exposed before, but there was no doubting it now. Cool, alien air washed over his sphincter. He squirmed, struggling to break the ship’s grasp on him, but fighting was futile. His dick got a little heavier.

“I hope you know you’re supposed to use lube,” he told the one-person audience in his head in an attempt to distract himself from his growing arousal. The situation was not sexy. Not not not sexy. Not hot or filthy or kinky-depraved.

He closed his eyes, afraid to see what would happen next, then opened them again because he was afraid to not see what would happen next.

Gabu tugged one of the ship’s many metal arms toward MJ’s ass. He lined it right up with MJ’s sphincter, the metal cold and hard where it tickled him.

“Lube!” MJ yelled internally as Gabu threw a switch.

The fear of being pierced with neither lubrication nor stretching had his rising erection settling back down, but the ship’s robotic arm managed to enter his ass without tearing anything. The metal was so smooth and slick and the tip so conical that it slid right in—a long, hard wand like a really expensive stainless steel dildo. But cold. So cold.

MJ whimpered into his gag. How far in were they going to shove that thing? It was too unbending to go much deeper and too thin to be of much use sexually.

Hilu went over to a video screen on which a red, splotchy image appeared. MJ cranked his head as high as possible to better see the picture. Was that his ass? Were they looking at the inside of his ass?

“Hey,” he tried to complain, with absolutely no effect. He dropped his head back down because it was too much work to hold it up and tried not to listen to the aliens discussing his inner anatomy.