Title: Overlords: Companion (M rated version)

Summary: 'Our Alien Overlords' came to Earth fifteen years ago, offering friendship and much-needed technological assistance. A group of young male prisoners are given the opportunity to be handed over to the Overlords instead of serving their sentences. Rated M for mature themes and language. M/M, xenophilia. This is an M-rated version of this story - look on my profile if you would prefer to read the T-rated version. (The plot is the same, but the descriptions differ.)

Warnings: This contains M/M relationships. I have tried to keep the descriptions within the guidelines for this site, but the themes are still quite explicit.

Disclaimer: This is a piece of original fiction and any similarity to persons living or dead is accidental.


"They're giving us to the Overlords to be butt-fucked"

The red-haired man had muttered it to anyone who would listen several times now, but nobody was responding any more. The first time, others had argued with him, pointing out that it was just an urban myth and that there was no evidence that the Khalothians had any sexual interest in humans, let alone that they were being given prisoners to make use of in that way. But he was adamant that this was the reason they had been separated out from the others. And he had made the valid point that every one of them was young, male, and attractive, which had certainly not been true of all of the protestors.

Jon tried to ignore him, and all of the other conversations he had overheard about just what was going to be done with them. Opinions varied, from them all being given a caution and let go, up to summary executions all round. In reality, none of them knew. Jon only knew that he couldn't bear being in a room with over twenty other men for very much longer without screaming, and that if he started he would not stop. And that the guards would show no hesitation whatsoever in beating him until he shut up.

So he pressed his back still more tightly against the rough concrete block-work of the wall and pushed the flat of his hands against it too, focussing on the small-scale unpleasantness of the texture instead of the larger horror of the situation. His breathing gradually slowed again.

In spite of himself, he could not stop his mind from slipping back to what the man kept saying. 'Our alien overlords' had turned out to be skilled at scientific research and were currently developing solutions to a great many of the problems that had beset Earth for decades. Some of these had already been implemented, others were being tested on a small scale, yet more were apparently in the pipeline. They had asked for little in return, just areas in which they could live and work, and the tools and materials necessary for their research. Early attempts to integrate into human society had been unsuccessful - humans might grudgingly accept the scientific knowledge and skills the alien race provided, but they didn't want them moving in just down the hall from them. The early frantic tabloid headlines had faded out over the years, though the fact that the unofficial 'Overlords' title had stuck said plenty about the human attitudes that still lurked just under the surface of apparent acceptance.

Did they have sex with humans? No-one really knew. It would be massively hypocritical of the government to facilitate male/male relationships between humans and Khalothians while virtually outlawing them between humans, but that was hardly proof that it wasn't happening. Everybody knew the government would do whatever they had to in order to stay in power, and that meant keeping the Overlords happy, since humanity were now expecting continual improvements in their living conditions and that in turn needed the Overlords research.

Jon found himself wondering - if that was what was going to be offered, would he take it? It depended on the alternatives of course. If it came to a straight choice between that and death, then he'd do whatever was necessary to stay alive. And if it was that or prison... he shuddered. After what had happened to Carl, he would take his chances with the aliens over what he knew for certain that humans would do to him. The remand cells had been worrying enough, though the guards had been careful to prevent any 'unnatural behaviour' between the prisoners, and were watching this roomful of 'degenerates' to break up anything that looked suspicious. Actual prison was not so well guarded, and he would be considered fair game, considering the fact that he'd been arrested at a protest about homosexual rights. Few of those attending had been straight. He should not have gone. He really should not have gone. But… friends and even his old teachers had said that people must protest, if their rights were not to be reduced still further. He could not have disappointed them, not after they had been so supportive…

There was a sudden commotion, with a group of guards ordering them away from the doorway and entering the room with weapons aimed directly at them. Beyond the wall of guards, a man in a cheap suit walked in.

"You have each been found guilty of mobbing and rioting, and sentenced to five to ten years incarceration."

Jon's heart fell, five to ten meant they would definitely be sent to a high-security facility where, in an ironic reversal of the normal meaning of the words, he would have no chance of any security. Prison gangs were allowed to deal with much of the day-to-day running of those places, with little involvement from the supposed guards. He would be lucky to live through his first night. Others around him were apparently thinking something similar and were not shy about expressing their anger and the underlying fear behind it.

Repeated orders and gestures from the guards finally silenced the shouts, and the suited man continued. "I have been authorised to offer an alternative to any of you who choose to accept it."

They were all ears now.

"The Khalothian Council is prepared to accept your requests for 'associate worker' status within their jurisdiction. Legal papers have been drawn up to facilitate such requests, subject to your acceptance of the conditions involved."

Most of the resulting shouts were incoherent, though the red-haired man's objections were loud and crudely-worded and his strident voice carried above those of the others. The guards brought him to the front, and the suited man asked him in a formal tone. "Are you rejecting the Khalothians' offer?"

He started his diatribe again, but a nod to the guards saw him swiftly removed from the room. All other objecting voices fell silent.

"He will be returned to the main group, and will start his sentence in the morning." He looked around. "Those others of you who wish to remain within the jurisdiction of the human authorities may join him immediately. Those who wish to consider accepting the offer should remain here. This does not constitute acceptance unless and until you choose to sign the legal paperwork."

Several others moved forward, and the guards surrounded them and escorted them out. That left perhaps twenty who were at least considering the possibility that aliens would take better care of them than other humans would, which said more than Jon needed to know about how widespread the fear and distrust had become, at least amongst those whose status and rights had always been precarious.

One, who had been among the quickest to argue against red-hair's allegations, now seemed less confident. "May we ask for the details of the offer? Or are we expected to sign without knowing what we are agreeing to?"

"The document is short and understandable. The Khalothians are keen to ensure that any who request a move to their jurisdiction have not been misled by legal jargon. You would be giving up all rights to human citizenship, and all recourse to legal representation. In exchange for which the Khalothian Council guarantees you accommodation, food, and access to educational and medical facilities."

"And the catch?"

"You sign over all your rights, in perpetuity, to the Khalothian Council."

"So... if they do want to butt-fuck us, we have no right to refuse?"

'Suit' allowed the uproar to die down before replying carefully "Your rights would be whatever the Khalothians choose to make them. The human authorities have no involvement in internal Khalothian matters and by making yourself subject to their jurisdiction you separate yourself completely and absolutely from human legal protection."

"So, if - what did you call it? - 'associate worker'? - if that turns out to mean 'sex slave', or just plain 'slave' then that's what we'd be agreeing to? And you're not going to tell us whether it is or not?"

"I cannot tell you. We do not get involved."

The shouts were louder than ever, and the guards had to hold the press of men back from the suited official.

Jon gripped the rough surface of the wall harder than ever. Sex slave to an alien race, or sex slave to the inmates of a high-security prison?

If it hadn't been for Carl, he would have believed that humans were the better choice, that prison might be extremely unpleasant but that he was still protected by the law even there. That the law that said he would be punished if he gave in to his desires would also apply to those already incarcerated. But he knew better. He knew that he would not be protected, that his beaten and bloody corpse would scarcely even be recognisable by the time his teeth had been smashed and his body used over and over by men who knew they were killing him and didn't care.

He let go of his grip on the wall and moved forwards, not caring for once if he pushed against other skin and clothing. "Where do I sign?" he asked in a voice that tried its best to be inaudible even as he looked the suited man directly in the eyes, determined to sign away his life rather than face what his friend had gone through.

The man looked surprised, perhaps that such a small and quiet figure would be the most decisive, but nodded and said "Name?" Jon gave it and watched impassively as the man riffled through a sheaf of papers to find the correct one. He could have insisted on reading through every detail of the wording, but since it could hardly be worse than what the man had already admitted he only glanced across it before taking the offered pen and signing as steadily as he could.

A nod from 'suit' to the guards and he was gestured to one corner of the room, and others out of it.

He was soon joined by several others who had reached similar conclusions, while the others still muttered amongst themselves. A few more went directly to the guards and said "Prison" or similar. They were shown away, to take their chances in the human system.

Gradually the 'undecided' group formed into a line, waiting their turn to sign - the trickle of those taking the option to stay had quickly died down, each having now made his decision by one means or another.

Jon's solitary corner of the room was increasingly crowded, and he was forced to return to his earlier coping strategy, taking some meagre comfort from the roughness of the wall behind him. It was solid and unmoving, demanding no response from him. If only the rest of life would follow its example.


Fear had been overtaken by boredom. Jon had been alone in the cell for more than an hour now. At first it had been a relief, as the last of the other men he had been transferred with had been called out of the room. They had all shared it since they got off the bus, the fourteen who had signed the legal forms giving all control of their lives and bodies to the Overlords. The initial crowding had been as unpleasant as it always was to him, but as men had been called out by name and the mass had reduced it had become more manageable, though he had struggled to ignore the sporadic 'restroom' visits which some of the men had indulged in. It was barely more than an alcove in the side of the room and it was hard not to be aware of what comfort some of them were taking their either alone or in pairs. The guards here either didn't notice or didn't care, completely unlike the human guards who had prevented any 'inappropriate' behaviour. But the guards were Khalothians - either ignorant of human sexual behaviour, uninterested in it, or utterly relaxed about it. They were certainly not bothered by nudity - all of the men had been ordered to strip out of their prison uniforms to go through a shower on their arrival, and given nothing to replace them with. Jon had blushed and tried to cover himself, then found a corner of the room and stood there as still and quiet as he could, keeping his gaze at shoulder height at all times. He didn't want to look at other men, or to know they were looking at him. Years of denial were not going to evaporate just because he was in an environment where he could have thrown caution to the wind. Presumably none of them would deliberately try to hurt him, but this certainly wasn't the way he was going to lose his innocence. He had stared blankly into space, refusing to even acknowledge anyone else's existence.

And now he was alone. Waiting. He wasn't even sure what he was waiting for, beyond the fact that each of the others had been called out at seemingly random intervals, in no particular order. His best guess was that they were being 'collected', individually. He refused to even think by whom, or for what purpose.

Finally the door opened again, but it wasn't the guards who came in this time - this Khalothian was far better dressed than them, and Jon had not seen him before. He considered the appearance of the alien - about six feet eight - average height for a Khalothian, as far as he could judge on the basis of those he had seen so far. Broad and muscular - again that seemed to be typical, though he had wondered if that was just the guards. His skin a rich bronze, with deep brown hair and eyes. His face... how did you judge an alien's face? It was not so different from that of a human, and yet no-one would mistake him for one even in far less light than the glare of this cell.

Its mouth turned up at the corners as its eyes ran over Jon's body, down then back up again slowly and appreciatively, then it spoke in a low growling tone "Oh, you are the prettiest little thing. I shall enjoy you very much, I am sure of it."