Regret.

Regret for not doing better in school. Regret for not telling those he cared about how much they meant to him. Regret for having dragged his sister down with him. And most of all, regret for having wandered off, following a pair of legs, and a sweet scent.

All that regret came crashing down as Jay managed to open his red eyes, blink away the blurring at the edges, and see the predicament he was in.

The room was a cell, a cramped and claustrophobic space that held about a dozen other groggy bodies struggling to stay conscious. The walls were made of dull, soft purple tiles arranged in intricate patterns of heptagons and pentagons. The lighting was dim and tinged with red, hidden discreetly in the corners of seven-pointed stars. The cell itself had five sides, three of which were solid and uniform, while the fourth featured a large closed aperture made of five dull metal pentagonal panels. The fifth wall, however, was transparent and revealed a narrow corridor with strange proportions stretching out in both directions. It felt like being inside a prism, surrounded by sharp angles and geometric shapes that seemed to distort perception in a brain trained on simple boxes and circles.

As the young rat scratched away the odd itch about the bridge of his nose, he got a chance to look at the other occupants. They mirrored his confusion and his gesture of irritation, scrubbing hard at their faces or pinching their muzzles till the dizzy, clouded feeling went away. Most looked to be about his age, teens in the fruit of their youth, but a few were older as best he could tell. They were from all over, different shapes and species, dogs, cats, a shark, and a deer of some kind. But he quickly came to realize they were all male, naked, save a matching accessory. A slim band around the neck, snuggled in tight against the skin, like a black plastic chocker.

He gave his own a tug, and found that it barely budged, and every millimetre it gave came with a sharp pain, like pulling off a scab before it had finished healing.

"H-hey, you know what's going on?" Asked one of the others, a nervous looking sheep with tie-died patterns in his wool.

"Not a clue mate," groaning and spitting, the shark got to his feet, "was chasing some bird, giving me the signal, next I know I'm here. Some fuckin' sting job or somethin'."

Others shared the same story. Completely innocently, they were signalled down by some indistinct feminine figure, followed by a flood of something floral, and next waking up where they were. Not one of them could agree on what the woman looked like, just a general shapely thigh, a crooked finger, and then gone.

A pit opened in the young rat's stomach as he thought where he'd been when he'd been 'Stung'. Their birthday, his and Connie's. His other half, his shadow, his twin. He'd promised to do something fun together, something exciting and dangerous. She'd followed, she always did. Poor Connie, she never said no to him, and he kept getting her into trouble. There was an old military base, still private with warning signs and everything, but no-one really protected it anymore. All the 'Cool stuff' was gone, but it was off-limits, and that made it fun. She'd sucked her teeth, but followed. Because he told her it would be alright.

They'd crawled under the fence. It paid to be a rat, they could squeeze under almost anything. But as they poked their noses into a few old hangers, a blockhouse or two, he caught a flash of something, a shapely leg, a scent of something sweet. He didn't tell her anything, just left. She might even still be there now, searching for him, crying, begging for him to stop playing games.

His self-recriminations were cut short as a few of the others gasped. A figure had appeared beyond the transparent screen, not just one, but four in all. Feminine yes, but not terrestrial. No amount of hybridization reconciled what the gathered teens saw.

Each creature stood easily at two and a half to three meters in height, shapely in all the ways that spoke to man's primal senses. But the mixing of mammal to insect, caused their lusts to choke. The way each curved thigh tapered to an impossibly thin, chitinous calf. Or how that perfect, waspish waist was crowned by a plated, segmentally armoured belly. That rose up past four voluptuous breasts to go with their four arms, in two rows apiece, to be mantled in a thick rough of fur. Sitting atop that mane were heads half between the long and pointed snouts of hunting dogs, and the mandible dominated visages of wasps. Their colours were amber and black, and their eyes in two more rows of two, were iridescent oil slicks.

The four watched keenly, gesturing to certain individuals and talking to each other beyond the soundproofed screen. Were they being judged like zoo exhibits? Or cuts of meat? The kidnappers didn't make that clear, not when they stepped back, nor when they opened the hatch. It wasn't till one of the tall and spindly figures came inside and used a flexing catchpole to lasso a man did panic set in.

The chosen captive bleated and tugged, those nearest to him falling back in shock, some braver rushing forward to save him. But the moment any of them proved violent, a quick beep and flash on their collar rendered them numb and stunned. The alien hadn't raised a single finger, save to tug 'her' prize away. All the remainder could do was panic and watch as one of them vanished beyond the limits of their sight.

Over the next hour, as the males boiled in their fear, the wasp women would return, select them one by one, and take them away. Pleading, begging, shouting and insulting, all had no impact. Sometimes they seemed to say things in reply, or make cooing little noises as if to coax their prisoners out of the corners where they hid.

Eventually, it was Jay's turn, the rubbery hoop of the pole seeming almost alive as it helped wrangle him into its coils, and his desperate squirming was not enough to dislodge it. He was dragged in tight by the alien that had selected him, right up until he could smell the perfumed air about her, could see the slight dimpling of her armoured portions, and could count the hairs of her fluffy ruff.

"Wait! Wait!" He cried out, "Please, take me back! I don't taste good, I swear!"

If she understood, she didn't show it, pulling him away like all the others till she had him alone in a narrow corridor, passing closed portals and following a maddening series of twists and turns in passages where every angle was wrong to his brain.

The scent of the air changed as they got to wherever they were going, and while his head had filled with horrific images of an abattoir, the stink that hit him wasn't blood, it was sweat, and the musky aroma every sexually active young man knows when they have a little too much time on their hands.

He didn't notice the extra slack on the pole, until four sleek sets of fingers had circled about him. The first two had him firmly held, feeling oddly cold and plastic with their chitinous covering, but the lower two, they went down with interest towards his two swinging orbs.

Like most male rats, he was endowed with what others might say was an oversized pair, each the size of a ripe orange. They were of keen interest to whatever had him now, as she gripped and squeezed them both in fascination.

"H-hey, you c-can't..."

A stuttered huffing sound came from behind him. She was chuckling as she toyed with them a little more, rolling each heavy ball back and forth until she was satisfied, and until his body had given in and started reciprocating her interest. The smell of sweet fruit and spice was stronger now she was closer, and the mechanical way she coaxed him had an amount of pink skin out of hiding in moments. And when she had that, she pressed a panel he wouldn't have recognized as a button, and the door slid open.

The origin of the musky scent of ejaculate was revealed. Each of the other males stood in bays facing a central bank, their feet recessed into and secured to the floor, but otherwise free of all other restraints. Except that they were all uniformly hutched forward, over a waist-high aperture, and groaning away to a soft sound of 'Shlik, shlik'.

Stunned by the scene of the others, the rat only belatedly realized he was being piloted to an empty stall alongside the deer he'd spotted earlier. The taller, lankier boy didn't spare him a glance over the shoulder-high divider separating them, too engrossed in what sounded to be an excruciating experience.

His alien captor positioned him with care, never letting go, never stopping her teasing, and he felt himself get lower as the tiny tiles of the floor sunk and reformed about his ankles. A swift tug brought only pain as the sharp edges dug in, trapping him like the rest. Now secured, the pressure on his back of her four, plump tits, pressed him forward till his unwanted erection was up against another pattern of mismatched stars. That too irised apart to reveal a hole, which had him shaking his head and fighting to keep his pride away from.

But Jay's resistance crumbled, and he was thrust onward until his throbbing member plunged into what he had feared would be a cruel torture device. Instead, he was met with a passage that tantalizingly expanded and flexed around him, its heat and supple texture swallowing him whole. It tightened and released in a seductive rhythm, sensually caressing every ridge and vein of his pulsating length until the contraption had flawlessly contoured to his shape from tip to base.

Shlik... Shlik... Shlik

"Ooh, oh fuck." Jay couldn't stifle the raw, guttural groan that slipped past his clenched teeth, as an alien sensation of pleasure began to coil around his cock. It was a feeling he'd never encountered before, like a velvet vice that alternated between gentle caresses and insistent pressure, coaxing his body into a state of unexpected relief and curiosity about what would follow. The interior surface of the device was a shifting landscape of tantalizing textures, sometimes bumpy, sometimes ribbed, that unpredictably changed with each pulse of its internal mechanism.

Each transformation in the texture sent spasms through Jay's arousal, making his cock twitch involuntarily. His precum began to flow like a leaky faucet, adding to the slickness inside the device. He gnawed at his lower lip in an attempt to suppress any sounds of pleasure that threatened to escape from him as it continued its relentless work, pulling wave after wave of ecstasy from deep within him.

The realization hit him then. It wasn't just pleasurable, it was intoxicating. He could no longer deny or resist the primal draw it held over him. Nature had hardwired him to crave the sensation of something tight enveloping his manhood, the same way one craves water in a desert, and this device delivered in spades.

Coupled with the residual fear and adrenaline coursing through his veins, these sensations were amplified tenfold. His worst fears had proven unfounded; the contraption didn't bring pain only intense and inescapable pleasure. Relief washed over Jay like a tidal wave as he felt himself surrender completely to its ministrations, breath hitching as he was walked up towards the inevitable peak.

A gentle finger lifted his chin, drawing his attention to the words filling his ears in a language he couldn't understand. As he followed the guidance and looked up, he saw a mesmerizing display of glowing symbols above his head, barely visible in the dim lighting. Despite not comprehending any of it, he was directed towards a specific set of symbols. With two of four hands extended in front of his eyes, the woman before him began to curl each finger down one by one, counting methodically. Fourteen fingers in total, before gesturing to the alien hieroglyph again. What she was teaching him was lost, however, as the prison about his penis accelerated, the pressure mounting.

"Nff, guh, n-nooo, fuck!" The machinery whirred, its inner walls constricting with an almost agonizing tightness. Jay's body hit its limit, his testicles contorting and squirming as his cock twitched in response to nature’s designs. A climax, foreign and intense, surged through him, the first he'd experienced that wasn't self-induced. A guttural moan escaped him as his body convulsed, shaking violently as he unloaded into the receptive opening of the machine.

Shlik… Shlik

She pointed again to the symbol, it had changed. She counted out her fingers, thirteen. She was teaching him what she wanted. He had to cum, thirteen more times.

"W-wait, we d-don't, work like that," Jay's protest ended in a squeak, as the insistent machine refused to let him flag, "we need, a break we can't just-"

A heady, saccharine scent swathed his senses, bewitching and irresistible. The alien had positioned a tiny inhaler at the apex of his snout, discharging a nebula of mist that saturated his neural pathways with ecstasy. With a singular inhale, he registered an immediate reaction coursing through his body; his heart pounded like a drum in his chest, reverberating with an intensity that echoed through every vein.

His Cock was jolted back to life without any prologue, throbbing with an insatiable need as it was pushed into overdrive. His body quaked subtly under the onslaught of the potent drug, muscles twitching involuntarily as if electrified. The usual lull after release was obliterated; all notions of a recovery phase were dismissed as he found himself primed for another round.

More alien words, more soft cooing, she set the inhaler down where he could see it, in easy arms reach, before patting his balls, dragging her fingers all the way down his tail, and leaving him to it.

"No! No no no no, wait!" Jay's body convulsed uncontrollably as the relentless waves of co-erced orgasms coursed through him. His eyes rolled back, and a guttural moan escaped his lips, joining the song of forced, and yet welcome pleasure. He tried to twist around, to call out to the retreating figure of the wasp-like woman, but every movement sent a sharp sting coursing along his engorged length as the device held him captive. 

He was one more voice in the symphony of low groans and high-pitched whimpers. The room a sea of writhing bodies, trapped in their own cycles of ecstasy. Some were hunched over, others were standing just like him, their tails twitching in sync with each involuntary climax. Everywhere he looked, he saw mirrors of his own experience; faces contorted in pained pleasure, bodies shuddering under the onslaught of relentless orgasms, eyes glazed over in coital bliss or wide open in shock.

The scent of musk hung heavy in the air, an intoxicating mix of sweat and sex that served as a constant reminder of their shared predicament. The dim lighting cast long shadows on their straining bodies, highlighting the sheen on their fur from exertion.

And through it all, Jay found himself lost in this sea of sensory overload. Each wave hit harder than the last until he could no longer distinguish where one orgasm ended and another began. He was just another voice contributing to this choir of forced ecstasy, another cog in this machine designed to milk their pleasure.

Shlik... Shlik... Shlik…

"W-what do you, think they, want with us?" Jay asked his neighbour, in the brief moment between two sessions, but had no response. The deer had a faraway look in his eyes, barely even aware he'd asked the question, his hand was already pulling his inhaler up to his nostrils for another, reinvigorating hit of the alien concoction.

"Don't fuckin' know, man. We can't fight it. Right now. But you just wait. I'll bust us outta this, just, stick with, Grha, me, bruva,” came a reply from his right, the shark from before. The last to be installed, completing the ring of groaning guys around the central pillar. His bravado didn't quite sound as strong as he'd intended while he was being dragged through another climax of his own.

"I-I'm Jay, w-what about, ffffu~, you two?"

"Will-iam, I'm William," the exhausted deer managed, slumping forward his small antlers scraped down the panels.

"C-connor, mate," the shark grunted out, bucking his hips willingly into the box to force out another shot of his own.

Jay let out a laugh, before sucking his teeth again, and hesitantly taking a small puff of aphrodisiac spray.

"I've, got a sister," he explained lamely, "she's called, Connie. S-small world, right?"

"Yeah..." Conner looked down at him, easily the tallest of the three of them. "Don't you worry little mouse, I'll get'ya home to that sis of yours, then ya can introduce me. Sound fair?"

"Sounds, grrf, fair," Jay tried to match the bigger boy's smile, even a bad joke was a welcome distraction.

Shlik, shlik, shlik

***

Pain, absolute and excruciating. That was what they each shared when the pumping machines finally switched off. By the end of it, most of them had barely been able to manage a dry shot, drained to the last drop. They hadn't been allowed to stop until they had each reached their quota, at which point the binds about their genitals had softened, and allowed them to slump forward without any suction.

Just like when they'd arrived, they were noosed and tugged away, back to a holding cell that might have been the same one they were in before, or entirely different, they didn't care enough at that point, each of them feeling the ache from their heaving balls. A meal was waiting for them, in the form of a loaf apiece of something that looked like bread, tasted of sweeteners, and filled them plenty. A small joke of getting prison-loaf had no one laughing, just further groaning, as the lights dimmed and their first day of captivity came to an end.