Lure of the Sirens: A Sci Fi Choose Your Own Erotic Story

by Callista Hawkes

  “Vanessa.” You hiss. “I’m going to keep my head down until I know

  who’s boarding.” You suddenly realise that the bridge is a dead end. The

  only way in or out is the corridor you have come down. There is no obvious

  hiding place other than ducking down behind one of the consoles, so you

  search for a makeshift weapon instead. After a couple of minutes of fruitless

  searching, you hide behind the door and heft a fire extinguisher cylinder,

  feeling vaguely ridiculous that it has come to this. You peer around the

  corner and see two figures making their way down the corridor. You know

  straight away that they are neither human nor any alien race you have

  encountered before. They are tall and thin, their heads stooped under the

  ceiling as they walk and they do not wear spacesuits. You have never heard

  of any life form capable of surviving in the vacuum of space. As they reach

  the bridge door, you swing the extinguisher cylinder with all your might into

  the grey face of the nearest alien. His face explodes in a mass of purple

  blood, globs floating off in all directions. You turn to his companion, but he

  has reacted first, raising some sort of energy weapon. The blast burns

  straight through your chest, a brief moment of agony before everything goes

  black and you join the bridge crew as another floating corpse.

  THE END

  Go back a few moments and rethink your actions

  You quicken your pace as best you can, moving back towards the

  airlock.

  “If you can hear me, I’m nearly back to the airlock.” You tell Vanessa.

  You reach the half open door and begin to squeeze through. You glance

  down the docking tube and realise with a start that it isn’t your ship at the

  end of it. Instead, a vessel with a strange, green shimmering hull is docked in the Eclipse’s place. Your eyes widen and you hurriedly try to squeeze back

  through as a hatch slides open, bright light spilling out into the docking tube.

  One of the air tubes on the back of your spacesuit snags on something,

  tearing it from the back of your helmet. You fall to the ground, gasping for

  air as it quickly drains from your suit. Just before you black out, you see a

  strange figure silhouetted against the light looming over you.

  Your eyes flick open, your sleep addled mind taking a moment to clear.

  As the synapses begin to fire, your eyes widen as you remember your last

  conscious moments. You sit up, finding yourself on a bed in a featureless

  room. No, not a room, a cell. You stand up, noticing for the first time that

  your spacesuit is gone, replaced by a thin white tunic and trousers. You look

  around, examining your new environment. You’re obviously no longer

  aboard the Spirit of the Stars as the walls, ceiling and floor all seem to be

  constructed from luminescent opaque white glass. There are two large

  panels in the walls. You approach one and it slides silently open, revealing a

  toilet and washbasin, also constructed from the same material as the walls.

  You approach the second door, which remains closed. You smile grimly. This

  is obviously the way out.

  Try to force the door

  Wait and see if your captors reveal themselves

  You notice a narrow gap around the door panel. You might just be able to slide your fingers into the gap and try to force the panel open. You

  cautiously approach the door and press your fingertips into the gap. There is

  a crackle of electricity and you are thrown back across the cell. You pick

  yourself up, wincing from the pain. You glare vindictively at the electrified

  door, rubbing your bruised and tender fingers.

  Continue

  You return to your bed and sit down. You’re obviously being kept here for a reason and your captors will no doubt reveal themselves and their

  reasons for detaining you in due course.

  An hour later, having used the facilities, you return to the main room

  to find a tray sitting on the bed with two containers placed on it. One holds a browny-grey gloopy substance, while the other holds water. Parched, you

  quickly drain the water before turning your attention to the other container.

  You retch from the foul tasting porridge-like food, but manage to keep it

  down. Despite your abhorrence, you are ravenously hungry, so you steel

  yourself and continue to consume it.

  A few more hours pass and you begin to hammer on the glass walls of

  the cell, yelling and screaming for your captors to reveal themselves,

  demanding to know why they are holding you. There is no response.

  Frustrated and angry, your hands throbbing from thumping the walls, you

  collapse onto the bed and fall to sleep.

  Days pass and still your captors do not reveal themselves. How long

  you have been confined is difficult to gauge, but judging by the regular food

  deliveries and your own sleep patterns, it has been a couple of weeks. You

  begin pacing up and down, the uncertainty of how long you will be here

  threatening to drive you mad. As you pace, your mind does somersaults,

  trying to remember all the people you have double-crossed, stolen from or

  given cause to do you harm. Though the list is long, incarcerating you does

  not fit the style of any of them. Most would favour violent and bloody

  retribution. A sound behind you interrupts your thoughts and you whirl

  around to see a figure stumble through the open door of your cell. The door

  swiftly closes and the figure, a human woman, sees you and embraces you,

  tears in her eyes.

  “Thank God!” She sobs into your shoulder. “I thought I was here

  alone.”

  “It’s ok.” You soothe her. “We’re going to be ok.”

  After so long alone, your relief is palpable.

  “Who are you?” You ask her.

  “My name’s Alyssa.” She replies, pulling back and drying her eyes on

  the back of the sleeve of the white gown she is wearing. “I was a dancer on the Spirit of the Stars. I managed to get to an escape pod during the attack,

  but next thing I know, I’m waking up in a cell much like this one.”

  You nod, noticing for the first time how beautiful she is. Her long,

  blonde hair cascades down past her shoulders, her eyes are pale blue and

  her full lips pout slightly. She is tall and slender and she certainly has the

  lithe physique of a dancer.

  “I’m Trent.” You reply, smiling. “I’m the captain of a freighter. We

  answered your distress call. Up until a moment ago, I was kinda wishing I

  hadn’t.” Alyssa laughs and her anxiety seems to melt away.

  “Pleased to meet you Trent.” She replies.

  “Any idea who’s holding us here?” You ask her.

  “Have you tried pressing your face up against the wall next to the

  locked door?” She asks.

  “I’ve given that wall a wide berth since I had a disagreement with the

  door.” You reply, massaging your fingers at the memory.

  “Try it.” She says. You move towards the wall and dress your face up

  against it. For a moment, you can see nothing, then your eyes focus on a

  face. A long, grey skinned face with black lidless eyes, like a shark’s eyes.

  Their hairless heads are smooth with gills where their ears should be and a

  gaping maw for a mouth. The face stares dispassionately back at you

/>   through the glass. You back away in disgust. You know the vast majority of

  the known alien races but this one is not familiar to you.

  “There’s two or three of them sometimes.” Alyssa continues. “I think

  they’re studying us. Maybe that’s why they’ve put us in the same cell, to see

  how we interact.”

  “We’re not animals!” You shout, thumping the wall with your fist. “You

  have no right to treat us like this.”

  “It’s ok.” Alyssa tells you in a soothing tone. “I’m just glad to have

  company after so many days with nothing but their ugly faces for company.”

  You turn away from the wall, your fury dissipating. She’s right, at least

  you’re no longer alone.

  You talk for hours, the words spilling from your mouths in a torrent

  after so long without anyone to talk to. You tell her of your humble

  beginnings on the Martian colony on Phobos, enlisting in the Galactic Navy,

  your dishonourable discharge and your subsequent career as an

  independent businessman. Alyssa smiles wryly as you describe your current

  career, intuitively reading between the lines that your business is not always

  strictly legal. Alyssa was herself born and raised on a mining colony on

  Ganymede, but had dreamed of something better, finally getting a place in a

  dance school back on Earth. She had graduated and applied for a job on a

  starliner as a dancer.

  “It was a dream come true.” She smiles wistfully, sitting next to you on

  the bed. “I had always watched the dancers on the vid broadcasts in our

  cramped quarters on the mining colony. They always looked so beautiful,

  graceful and glamorous, so I was overjoyed when I got a job on the Spirit of

  the Stars, travelling across the galaxy and living the dream.”

  “Right up until the part where you got abducted by aliens eh?” You

  grin humourlessly.

  “Yes, that part wasn’t in my vision.” She admits. “Still, it sounds like

  I’m the sole survivor, so I guess I’m still pretty lucky.” She gazes at the floor, her eyes taking on a faraway look, perhaps thinking of the friends she has

  lost.

  “Well, I guess I’m pretty lucky too.” You grin, trying to brighten her

  spirits. “I may be locked in a cell, but at least I’ve got a beautiful, charming woman for company.”

  She looks up, stifling a chuckle at your rather cumbersome

  compliment.

  “That’s very kind of you.” She grins. The luminescence of the walls

  suddenly dims, darkening the room.

  “Not very subtle are they?” You say, glancing at the bed and suddenly

  feeling awkward. “You take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.” She reaches out

  and gently squeezes your hand.

  “You know,” She smiles. “We don’t know what they have planned for

  us. They might throw us out into space, dissect us, experiment on us or any

  manner of horrible things. If this is to be our last few days or hours, I’d

  rather be spending it doing something I’d enjoy than sitting here waiting in

  fear.”

  “What are you saying?” You reply, already knowing the answer.

  “I’m saying,” Alyssa replies, her eyes smouldering, “We could always

  give them what they want…”

  Assist the aliens in their research of human mating behaviour

  No way, you’re not performing for an audience

  “No, we won’t stoop to their level.” You tell Alyssa. “We must remain strong and look for an opportunity to escape.” Alyssa looks disappointed,

  but nods her agreement. She climbs onto the bed, lying with her back to you

  before glancing over her shoulder.

  “Don’t be a martyr.” She tells you sullenly. “You’re obviously a

  gentleman, more’s the pity, so you may as well sleep on the bed with me.”

  You climb onto the bed and lie next to her, gazing at Alyssa’s slender

  silhouette in the dim light. You wonder at what possessed you to refuse her

  advances, but console yourself that you are not an animal, to be pushed,

  prodded or studied.

  You stir from your sleep, the room still dimly lit. As your sleep fogged

  mind begins to clear, you wonder what it was that awoke you. You realise

  that Alyssa has slid across the bed and her firm, shapely buttocks are

  pressed against your groin. Your cock has betrayed you and you can feel the

  throbbing erection sandwiched between your stomach and her buttocks.

  You feel Alyssa push back slightly, your shaft twitching with the stimulation.

  Just as you wonder if she was simply moving in her sleep, she does it again.

  The horny bitch is teasing you.

  To hell with the voyeuristic aliens, give in. You’re only human

  You’ve made your thoughts clear. Roll over and thwart her

  “Damn woman, you are incorrigible.” You murmur, thrusting back

  against her shapely arse. She giggles and rolls over to face you, her blue eyes gleaming in the darkness. You take her in your arms, pressing your lips to

  hers. Your tongue darts between her lips, her tongue meeting yours. A

  contented moan escapes her lips as your hands slide over each other’s

  bodies, exploring and caressing. You reach under the hem of her gown, your

  hand gliding over the soft flesh of her buttocks, while her hand slips under

  your waistband. You groan into her mouth, feeling her lips curl into a grin as

  she runs her fingers over your engorged shaft. You break the kiss and both

  sit up, breathlessly stripping the clothes from each other, your eyes hungrily

  devouring each other’s bodies as they are revealed in the dim light. Alyssa’s

  gown discarded, she swings her long legs over the end of the bed and stands

  before you, her eyes brimming with excitement and her lips pouting slightly

  as she enjoys your gaze.

  “Beautiful.” You murmur, your eyes drinking in her small, pert breasts,

  her brown nipples erect and begging for attention. Your eyes slide further

  down her trim body, noticing the golden curls of her pubic hair between her

  toned thighs. You stand, pressing your lips back to hers for a moment before

  she begins to kiss down your body, her lips sliding down your neck, kissing

  down your muscular chest and past your abdomen. She drops to her knees

  before you, gazing thoughtfully at your erect cock before reaching out and

  taking it back in her hand. She tightens her grip on the upstroke and a bead

  of pre-come squeezes out from the tip. She leans forward and her tongue

  darts out, collecting the drop of pearly white fluid and tasting it, sitting back on her haunches and gazing up at you.

  “Tastes better than that grey crap they’ve been feeding us.” She grins.

  “You want to provide me with a bit more?”

  Why not. The poor girl’s got to eat

  Sounds good, but you’d like to taste Alyssa too

  You’re supposed to be putting on a scientific demonstration of coupling for

  your hosts

  You roll over, ignoring her sigh of frustration and drift off back to sleep.

  When you wake, you find that Alyssa is no longer in bed. You call out

  for her, wondering if she is in the bathroom. When she doesn’t answer, you

  climb out of bed, padding across the floor. You then notice the pale green

  gas seeping into the room from the ceiling. You cough, the noxious gas

&nb
sp; burning the back of your throat. Waves of nausea wash over you and you

  stumble as you begin to lose control of your body, dropping to your knees

  and slumping forward onto the floor. The nerve toxin quickly does its work

  and as you feel yourself slip away, you realise that your noncompliance has

  led you to be euthanized like a laboratory rat that has served its purpose.

  THE END

  Go back a few moments and rethink your actions

  “Who am I to stand in the way of their scientific studies?” You quip, taking Alyssa in your arms. She grins before pressing her lips to yours, kissing you passionately before breaking the kiss, her hands pulling at your clothes,

  pulling your tunic over your head and dropping it to the floor. Her hands tug

  at your trousers, pulling them down to your ankles. Your hardening cock

  springs up, gently swaying before her.

  “That will do nicely.” Alyssa murmurs, running her fingers over your

  stiffening length. You slide your hands inside her robe, pulling it open, a grin crossing your face as you gaze at her small, pert breasts, her brown nipples

  erect and begging for attention. Your eyes slide down her trim body,

  noticing the golden curls of her pubic hair between her toned thighs. You

  press your lips back to hers and kiss for a moment before she begins to kiss

  down your body, her lips sliding down your neck, kissing down your

  muscular chest and past your abdomen. She drops to her knees before you,

  gazing thoughtfully at your now erect cock as she continues to stroke it. She

  tightens her grip on the upstroke and a bead of pre-come squeezes out from

  the tip. She leans forward and her tongue darts out, collecting the drop and

  tasting it, sitting back on her haunches and gazing up at you.

  “Tastes better than that grey crap they’ve been feeding us.” She grins.

  “You want to provide me with a bit more?”

  Why not. The poor girl’s got to eat