Captured

Clutching the steering wheel tightly and peering into the darkness illuminated by his headlights, Timothy was jostled by the bouncing of his car over the dirt road. The longer he drove, the less hopeful he was of finding the exact spot. He was about to give up when he noticed a flash up ahead, to his right.

Within minutes, he was parked alongside the road and making his way through the underbrush. The flashlight from his glove compartment lit the way. When he at last emerged from the trees, he felt as if he had stepped into a science-fiction thriller at the late night double feature picture show. For there, the length of a football field and taller than the four-story bank downtown, was a circular, gleaming metallic structure. It appeared to be a large ball with a rim around the middle. On top of the ball were two figures. Two others were moving around on the ground.

Another flash. One figure held a rifle to its shoulder, and from the end of the barrel a projectile was fired towards the top of the ball. A rope coiled on the ground played out as the projectile arched through the air to land on the summit of the ball. The figures on top of . . . well, what could only be described as a 'flying saucer' pulled the rope up. Attached to the end was camouflaged netting. Timothy could see that half the craft had already been draped with the meshwork.

After his initial shock, the fact that the figures were female sunk in. They had helmets covering their heads, wrapping around the sides and fastened under the chin. Their outfits were form-fitting silver jumpsuits. So engrossed was he by the sights before him, he did not hear a fifth figure approaching from behind.

But he heard the dull whooshing sound of a ray gun being fired at him. His knees buckled as he fell to the ground, slipping into unconsciousness.

When Timothy came to, he had no idea how long he had been out. His mouth was dry and his vision blurred. As he was gradually able to focus, he realized that he must be inside the craft. Numerous panels with flashing lights lined the walls, and pipes and ducts ran overhead. When he tried to move, he became aware that he was bound to a chair, much like the La-Z-Boy his father was so fond of at home. The chair was one of six, all arranged in a circle facing inward.

He was also naked.

With some sort of device covering his crotch. Unintelligible words reached his ears, obviously his captives talking to each other. Looking to his right, he saw one of the women - for up close, there could be no mistaking that - was approaching.

"Do not fear, Terran," she announced in a stilted voice. "I am Voltaree and we mean you no harm."

Looking back over her shoulder, she called out something in the language he had heard earlier and another woman, this one a blonde, hurried in with a plastic container having a straw. She held it to his lips and the first woman said, "Water. You are thirsty. The after-effects of the neuro-ray."

At first he hesitated to trust them, but considering the position he was in, what difference did it make? After taking several deep gulps of the liquid, he said, "You speak English."

"Yes," Voltaree answered. "We all do. It was part of our training."

"And what are you going to do with me?" he asked.

"Ah! You, and those like you, are our reason for being here," she answered. "We come from the planet you call Venus. And as you can see, our physical appearance is much like your own. Almost precisely like your own."

He nodded, still not understanding what any of that had to do with his question.

"However, eons ago it was decided that the males of our species were a threat," she continued. "A serious threat. What with their aggression and constant belligerence and warmongering. So we embarked on a eugenics program that assured all future off-spring would be female. We did not kill off the existing males. We just did not replace them as they died off of natural causes. Before they died, vast quantities of spermatozoa was collected and frozen. Enough to last for centuries."

She paused, giving her prisoner a chance to digest all that she had told him. Then she went on, "However. As I said. That was eons ago. Our stockpile is nearly completely depleted."

Timothy's eyes widen, and he looked down at his crotch. At the device strapped over it. At the thin tube leading from the device to an apparatus in the center of the circle of chairs. "And you are going to . . ."

"Extract your spermatozoa," Voltaree completed the sentence. Turning to the other female, she spoke in English. "Jewelet, start the process."

The blonde walked over to the apparatus in the center of the circle, twisted some knobs, and, looking up at Timothy, flipped the switch. The droning of the machine filled the room and Voltaree spoke loudly over it. "Do not fear. You will not be harmed." For the first time her face showed emotion. "In fact, it should be quite pleasurable."

Timothy instantly saw what she meant. Or rather, he felt it. For his penis had been inserted inside some sort of tube-like casing that now came alive. Expanding and contracting. Squeezing and relaxing. Massaging his member into an erection.

The one called Jewelet, still squatting by the apparatus, was carefully watching a series of gauges. At a certain point, she looked up at Voltaree and nodded her head. Then the blonde flicked another switch.

"OH JEEZ!" Timothy screamed, trying to arch his back but prevented by the straps across his chest and thighs.

"Are you alright?" Voltaree ran up to him, a look of concern on her face. Jewelet also looked confused and she scanned the instrumentation for signs of malfunction.

"Oh, yessss," Timothy moaned, his mouth hanging open. "I am better than al... oh, jeez."

For the sleeve snugly enclosing his now erect penis was designed for lubrication to ooze in through dozens of pin-sized openings as it moved up and down on him. Added to that was a slight vacuum. It was like he was getting a blow-job from someone capable of continuously deep-throating his cock.

As he writhed around on the chair as much as his restraints would allow, he locked eyes with his captor. "This is unbelievable," he gasped, his hands tightly gripping the arms of his chair.