The stars never looked so cold.
Reon Veyr sat hunched in the cockpit of the ISV Hopebreaker, alarms howling around him. Sparks rained from above as the ship spiraled out of control, his hands shaking as he tried to pull up.
GRAVITY DRIVE FAILURE
LIFE SUPPORT: CRITICAL
COURSE: UNKNOWN
"This isn't how I die!" he snarled, wrenching the controls. The pale blue planet filling his viewport didn't care. Its glowing rings shimmered like a noose around his neck as his ship screamed through the atmosphere.
Then — blackness.
He woke choking on air so thick and sweet it almost made him gag.
His eyes opened slowly to find himself lying on soft, faintly glowing grass, under a sky streaked with lavender and silver. The wreckage of his ship smoldered in the distance.
"…Still alive…" he muttered hoarsely. His stomach twisted with hunger, sharp and biting. He couldn't even remember his last meal.
That's when he saw them.
Shapes at the edge of the clearing. Moving closer.
Women — if you could call them that.
One by one, they emerged: tall, radiant beings with skin in impossible shades — pearly blues, rich golds, deep violets. They wore little more than scraps of shimmering fabric and strange glowing jewelry.
But what drew his eyes, helplessly, were their bodies.
Curves that defied human proportions. Hips that swayed hypnotically. Breasts that glistened with dew. And between their legs…
He blinked hard.
Each one was different.
One's slit glimmered like wet honey, its folds shaped like a delicate flower, glowing faintly. Another's was striped in exotic patterns, almost feline, with tiny shimmering hairs catching the light. Yet another's was dark and slick, beaded with droplets of fragrant nectar that dripped down her inner thighs.
The air was thick with their scent — heady, fruity, intoxicating.
He stumbled back instinctively, but they closed in, circling him.
"Male," the first one said, her voice like liquid. Her skin was peach-colored, her eyes huge and unblinking. "Intact. Unclaimed."
"What… what do you want?" Reon croaked.
Another stepped forward — violet-skinned, tall, with six graceful arms. She crouched low and sniffed at him, her face stopping just over his crotch. She inhaled deeply and purred.
"…Hungry," she murmured.
Reon's stomach growled again, louder this time, and he couldn't help but clutch at it.
"You… eat," the peach-skinned one said softly, leaning closer. "You eat us. We… feed you. You… feed us."
Before he could react, she undid the single ribbon holding her garment together and let it fall.
Her slit was a masterpiece — a radiant bloom of pink and gold petals glistening with nectar that dripped into the grass below. The scent that hit him was overwhelming — like ripe fruit mixed with something… primal.
"You… need food," she whispered. Her fingers slid down and spread her glistening folds apart, revealing more of the strange, shimmering flesh within. "We… give. You… take."
His mouth went dry, his cock already hardening at the sight.
"I… eat that?" he asked in disbelief.
She nodded slowly, a smile curling her lips.
"Yes. Eat. Drink. Taste."
The others giggled softly, their voices like chimes in the wind. Around him, more skirts fell, more alien pussies revealed — each different, some dark as wine, others pale and glittering, some crowned with little jewel-like fruits that pulsed with light.
The peach-skinned one gently pushed his shoulders, guiding him down to his knees. The scent of her pussy enveloped him now — sweet and thick, almost dizzying.
His lips hovered over the strange, wet petals. He could see the nectar pooling there, golden and warm.
"…If this is how I survive here," he muttered, almost to himself, "…then so be it."
He leaned in and pressed his mouth to her.
The taste exploded on his tongue — sweet and tart, like biting into some alien fruit mixed with a rich, salty undercurrent. His stomach instantly warmed, his hunger easing as he licked deeper, savoring the strange juices as they dripped into his mouth.
Above him, she moaned, her hips grinding into his face.
"Yes…" she hissed. "Eat. More…"
The others closed in, watching hungrily as Reon licked and sucked at her, feeling himself growing harder with every swallow.
The peach-skinned alien reached down and caressed his cheek, her voice low and sweet:
"You eat… we live. We drink… you live. This is… our way."
And as he drank the last of her nectar and she trembled with pleasure above him, Reon realized one thing.
On this planet, survival was going to taste… incredible.
Reon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his lips slick with golden nectar.
The taste still lingered — impossibly sweet, faintly tangy, and surprisingly satisfying. Already, his stomach felt warmer, fuller, as though that one alien pussy had given him more sustenance than any meal he'd ever had.
The peach-skinned girl purred above him, shivering as she slowly pulled away. Between her thighs, her alien slit still glistened, but the flow of nectar slowed now, like a fruit freshly picked.
She smiled lazily down at him.
"Good… feeder," she murmured, stroking his hair.
He staggered back, catching his breath, only to find himself surrounded.
The others had formed a circle around him — six alien girls, each unique, each stripping their sheer garments as their eyes fixed on him with hunger of their own.
One stepped forward — the tall, violet-skinned one with six delicate arms.
She crouched low in front of him, her many hands peeling away the last scraps of her shimmering fabric to reveal what lay beneath.
Her pussy was unlike the first's — darker, ridged with faint bioluminescent lines that pulsed faintly in rhythm with her breath. Beads of nectar gathered and dripped slowly down her inner thighs, forming little glowing droplets in the grass.
She reached forward and cradled his head in two of her hands, guiding him toward her dripping folds.
"My turn," she purred. "Taste… mine. Different. Strong."
Reon swallowed hard, the scent of her already filling his senses — sharper, spicier than the last, making his mouth water.
He didn't even resist.
He leaned forward and pressed his tongue to her slick, alien slit.
The flavor was completely different — richer, like honey mixed with some strange spice that left his lips tingling. She gasped and arched into him, her many hands gripping his hair, shoulders, even his back as she ground herself against his mouth.
"Yes… yes…" she hissed, her glowing lines flaring brighter.
Around him, the other girls watched, their hips swaying, hands between their thighs as they touched themselves impatiently.
Reon pulled back for just a moment, licking his lips and breathing heavily.
Each of them… a different scent. A different taste.
He could smell them all now, their unique aromas filling the air — some sweet like berries, others heady like wine, one faintly citrus and bright. His stomach growled again, as though his body already craved their alien nectar more than any Earth food.
He glanced at the circle around him, their legs glistening, their eyes wide and expectant.
The peach-skinned girl spoke again, her voice low and commanding.
"You eat all… all different," she said. "Balance. Strength. You live… we live. You drink… we drink."
The meaning hit him slowly — this planet didn't just want him to survive this way. It needed him to.
He'd feed on them — their endless, nectar-filled bodies — and in return, they'd feed on what he could give back.
His cock throbbed hard at the thought as the next girl stepped forward — this one with blue, almost translucent skin and a slit that glowed faintly like a pool of moonlight. She reached down, cradling his jaw with both hands, her voice soft and breathy.
"My turn," she whispered. "Drink me."
Reon looked up at her, his mouth already watering.
He'd never been a hero. Never been special. But here, on this strange, alien world… they were treating him like something more than just a man.
They needed him.
And he… needed them.
He smiled faintly to himself as he leaned forward and tasted his third alien pussy of the night.
This one was tart and cool, like biting into some forbidden, exotic fruit.
And for the first time since he'd crashed here, he felt alive.
Reon collapsed backward into the soft, glowing grass, his lips and chin slick with nectar.
The blue-skinned girl moaned faintly as she stepped away, her thighs quivering, her alien slit glistening and satisfied. She shot him a faint smile over her shoulder before rejoining the circle.
He gasped for breath, his chest heaving.
Three of them already.
And still… five more waited, standing in that slow, hungry circle, their alien bodies glowing faintly under the strange lavender sky, their eyes fixed on him like predators.
The air was thick now — humid with scent. Fruity, musky, sweet and sharp all mingled together, filling his lungs until his head spun.
The peach-skinned girl — clearly their leader — stepped forward again and crouched at his side.
She looked pleased.
"You… feed well," she murmured, one delicate finger stroking along his jaw. "Good… human."
Reon swallowed, still trying to calm his heart.
"You keep saying that," he rasped. "That I… feed. What do you mean? What do you get out of this?"
Her lips curled into a slow, sly smile.
She rose to her knees and reached down between his legs.
Reon's breath hitched as her warm fingers wrapped around his cock, now rock-hard and glistening with precum through his torn uniform pants.
"This," she said simply.
He groaned as she stroked him, slow and firm, her thumb teasing his swollen tip. The other girls began to murmur softly, their alien voices full of anticipation as they closed in.
"You drink us," she explained, her fingers working him expertly now, "you… live. You… feed us this," she added, giving him another firm squeeze, "and we live."
Reon shuddered.
It was… a cycle.
They'd feed him their nectar — each girl's unique pussy keeping him alive, giving him strength. And in return… they needed his semen, to keep themselves healthy, fertile, alive.
He groaned as her hand quickened, his hips bucking instinctively.
"I… don't know if I can…" he started to say. But when he looked up at the circle of alien women, their bodies glistening, their hips swaying, their eyes full of raw need, his words caught in his throat.
Each of them wanted him.
Each of them needed him.
And his body wanted to give them everything.
The peach-skinned girl leaned down, her lips brushing his ear.
"You are ours," she whispered. "You eat. You drink. You feed. Every day. Every night. You… belong here now."
Reon's mind screamed in protest — he had to find a way home, he couldn't stay here forever — but his body betrayed him.
His cock throbbed hard in her hand, and his lips still tingled with the sweetness of their nectar.
When her grip tightened and his orgasm tore through him, his hips arched, and he cried out into the alien night.
Hot, thick ropes of cum spurted from him, splashing across her hand, her chest, and dripping into the grass below.
The women gasped as one — soft, almost reverent.
The peach-skinned girl raised her slick, cum-covered fingers to her lips and sucked them clean with a satisfied hum.
Then she looked down at him with a smile of quiet triumph.
"You live," she purred. "We live. Welcome… to home."
Reon lay there panting, his mind spinning.
In the distance, the wreckage of his ship still smoldered.
Earth felt a million light-years away.
And yet… as the alien women crowded in again, their soft, fragrant bodies pressing against him, he wasn't sure anymore if he wanted to leave.
The alien night deepened around them.
Above, the sky was alive with streams of silver light, like rivers of stars pouring across the heavens. The air was warm, heavy with the scent of fruit, nectar, and sex.
And Reon lay on his back in the glowing grass, his chest rising and falling, his cock still hard despite everything they'd already taken from him.
Around him, the circle of women closed in fully now. Their alien bodies pressed to his, skin warm and slick, soft and strange, their shapes and colors blending into a kaleidoscope of feminine forms.
The peach-skinned girl straddled his waist, her glistening folds hovering just over his cock, already dripping onto him. Her eyes locked on his as she purred softly:
"Night… begins."
She sank down slowly, and Reon gasped as her hot, wet alien slit swallowed him whole. Her inner walls clung to him with a strange, silky texture, pulsing faintly, coaxing him deeper inside her.
He groaned as her hips began to roll.
But even as she rode him, the others didn't wait.
Two knelt on either side of his head, their thighs pressing to his cheeks, their alien pussies glistening in the moonlight. One was deep violet and ridged faintly, her nectar already dripping onto his lips. The other glowed faintly blue, delicate and soft, her scent sharp and citrusy.
They both whispered at once:
"Eat."
And he did — turning his head from one to the other, licking, sucking, drinking their juices, their moans mingling above him as their nectar coated his tongue, each flavor distinct and intoxicating.
Behind him, he felt hands on his chest, his thighs, his hair — alien fingers stroking him, teasing him, pulling him deeper into their rhythm.
The peach-skinned girl moaned as she rode him harder, her petals tightening around him with each thrust.
He groaned into the violet girl's pussy as he came again — hot and thick inside the peach-skinned one, who cried out in bliss as she shuddered and came with him, her nectar gushing around his cock.
But even as he finished, she slid off him, her hips still trembling, and another girl immediately took her place — the six-armed violet one lowering herself onto his still-hard shaft with a hungry moan.
The circle never broke.
One after another, they claimed him, and he claimed them.
Pussy after pussy fed him, their nectar filling his stomach and reviving his strength. His semen fed them in turn, his cock hard again and again, filling their alien wombs with his essence as their strange bodies milked him dry and yet made him ready for more.
Time lost all meaning as the night stretched on.
He ate them. They drank him. Again. And again. And again.
When at last the sky began to pale to morning lavender, Reon lay in the center of the grass, his body slick with sweat and alien nectar, his chest heaving.
The women curled around him in a warm, fragrant heap of limbs and breasts and thighs, their soft breathing filling the quiet.
The peach-skinned girl rested her head on his chest, her hand gently stroking his hair.
"You… good feeder," she murmured sleepily. "You live."
He stared up at the alien dawn, his lips curling faintly despite the exhaustion in his bones.
"Yeah," he whispered. "I'm alive."
But deep inside, he knew one thing:
He still wanted to go home.
And somehow… he'd find a way.