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Subject: {ASSM} Some Annoying Aliens <*> (mc, nc, hyp, mff, fd, md, ft, humil, humor, mast, bdsm
Date: Mon, 25 Sep 2000 07:10:03 -0400
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Some Annoying Aliens (mc, nc, hyp, mff, fd, md, ft, humil,
humor, mast, bdsm, furry, robots, sf)
Copyright 2000 by Chew Toy (wellgnawed@hotmail.com)
WARNING: The usual disclaimers and warnings apply.
The characters in this story have sex; if that offends
you or for some reason you are Not Allowed to read about
such things, stop now. The events in this story might not
be moral or even possible; the point is to give you a hot
fantasy, not a blueprint for life.
---
CHAPTER ONE
---
The mind-control device arrived in the mail.
At 8:15 in the morning, a parcel delivery truck pulled up
to 1432 Smith Street and a fresh-faced young man in the
parcel delivery service uniform knocked on the door. After
a few minutes, a tousled, sleepy-looking young man in a
bathrobe answered. "Yeah?"
"John Park?" asked the delivery agent.
"No, but he lives here."
"Close enough. Would you sign for this, please?" the
agent held out an electronic pad, and gestured to a cardboard
box at his feet.
The rumpled young man scratched an illegible scrawl on the
signature pad, and picked up the box.
"Thanks," said the agent, collecting his pad and turning
to leave.
"No problem," the young man muttered as he padded down
the hall back into the building, the door closing behind
him. He dropped the package by his housemate's door, went
back to bed, and forgot all about it.
--
John Park was a college sophomore who had arranged his
entire class schedule-- and his choice of major-- around
the goal of never having to get up before noon. As this was
Saturday, he didn't open his bedroom door and see the
package until 3:25 pm.
His confusion over who could have sent it-- there was no
return address on the box-- grew greater when he brought his
morning pop-tart into the bedroom to munch while he sat on
the bed and opened the box... to find a strange pistol-like
device and an instruction manual that looked like it was in
an alien language. Indecipherable hieroglyphs covered every
page he studied.
"Far out," he mumbled, through a forgotten mouthfull of
crumbs, as he gingerly plucked the device out of the supportive
foam. It felt strange in his hand, unweildy, and he waved it
about awkwardly before pointing it in the general direction
of the ceiling and squeezing the trigger.
Inviting certain doom, if it were a disintegrator ray. There
was a faint hum, but nothing visible happened.
"Damn," said John, and rooted through the instruction manual
some more.
On the very first page, which he'd previously skipped, John
finally found something he could understand-- a series of
Intergalactic Pictorial Symbols. Designed to convey their
basic meaning even to members of primitive nonliterate cultures,
the symbols were just obvious enough for even John to comprehend.
He correctly, if a bit uncertainly, identified the symbols for
"Pistol," "Mind Control," and "Recyclable."
"Some kind of hypno-ray, huh?" John muttered to himself,
peering into the business end of the device. "Hah. All right--
cat, you are in my power!" He pointed the device at Mrs.
Gelbacher's cat outside, through the bedroom window, and squeezed
the trigger.
The cat froze instantly as the invisible hypno-ray hit it;
then started moving again as soon as John let up the trigger.
"Whoa," John breathed.
Just then, John's roommate poked his head in the room.
"Hey, man, rent is due, and--"
The hypno-ray froze him in mid-sentence. "You will pay my
rent for me this month," John said, then let up the trigger and
leaned forward, eager to see what the effect would be.
"-- I'm gonna pay yours this month, I just wanted to let you
know." John's roommate blinked, as if confused by what he'd
just said, then shrugged and left the room.
"Far OUT!" said John, grinning and hugging the hypno-ray to
his chest.
--
Meanwhile, at 1432 Park Street, John Smith aka the alien spy
Frrbnglrr was having an entirely less enjoyable day.
With the window shades drawn tight, Smith was kneeling
worshipfully in front of his television set, which occupied
a commanding position in one corner of the living room. Atop
the TV set, a small glowing figure paced impatiently.
"He sent it by male? So you've had a servant hand-
deliver it. Fine. When can you start picking out slaves?"
"Err... no, my Princess. 'Mail' is the name of the primitive
mercenary package-delivery service on this planet, which is
subject to exaggerated bureaucratic delays so common to
backward civilizations, unlike the glorious Empire of which
it is this unworthy servant's great honor to be--"
"Yes, yes, fine. Stop grovelling so much, I can hardly
make out what you're saying. No, don't get UP--" the glowing
figure snapped as Smith started to rise-- "just lift your head
a bit when you speak to me. You may look at my feet."
"Yes, my Princess." Smith gazed upon the tiny, delicately
furred, holographically reproduced feet of Princess Thrrmm,
his patron and ruler.
"That's better. Now, if I understood that mumbling correctly,
what you are telling me is that per your instructions, your
contact placed a sophisticated, high-tech, and highly illegal
mind-control device... whose worth is more than that entire
planet you're grovelling on... into the care of a primitive
and overbureaucratized local transport agency that can't even
move a package between two points on the same planetary
surface within a single Galactic Reference Day. Is that
essentially the situation?"
"Er..." still looking at the Princess's feet, Smith appeared
to be trying unsuccessfully to force his chin further into
the carpet. "Yes, my Princess."
"WHAT... WERE... YOU... THINKING???" The force of her
yell had the diminutive holographic Princess up on her toes,
arms thrust out to the side, her body leaned far forward
(exposing the ample clevage of her topmost breasts, if Smith
had dared to look so high) and her bushy tail held straight
out behind for balance.
"I..."
"ARE YOU JUST STUPID?"
"I..."
"Nevermind. I don't want to hear excuses." Princess Thrrmm
resumed her pacing, her tail twitching angrily from side to side.
"You will take steps to ensure that this male service agency
delivers the device to you as soon as possible. Then when you
have handed off the payment--" she whirled around to fix another
icy glare at the top of Smith's head, as he stared miserably
at her feet-- "You DO still have the payment, don't you?"
"Yes, my Princess."
"Good. Then you will pick out a ship-load of suitable slave
candidates, condition them with the commands I gave you, and
send them on out here to me. Do you think you can handle that
without further mishap?"
"Yes, my Princess."
"Good. I'll expect to see one of your slave candidates when
next I contact you." With an absent wave, the holographic figure
vanished.
A moment after the communicator winked off, Smith hastily
unbuckled his pants and thrust a hand inside them, pulling his
already rock-hard penis into the air. The depilatory treatments
that had removed the hair on his face and hands, allowing him
to pass for human, did not extend to areas normally covered by
clothing-- since anyone seeing him naked would probably notice
the tail anyway-- and a fine grey fur covered his belly, legs,
and crotch.
Being so humiliated in front of his Princess had him
uncontrollably turned on, and he imagined the even greater
humiliation he would have suffered had his prone position not
hidden the evidence of his perversion from her sight. With the
hand not furiously stroking his rod, he groped around on the floor,
found a magazine, and rolled it up. She would have been completely
disgusted; horrified at the sight of him. The thought excited
him further. "Frrbnglrr... is... such... a... bad... dog!"
he muttered through gritted teeth, punctuating each word with
a blow to his own hindquarters with the rolled-up magazine.
"Bad! Bad! BAD! BAD! BAAAAAD!" And he came in thick white
spurts, all over the coffee table.
--
At the other end of the galaxy, Princess Thrrmm, turning away
from the holographic communicator, had a moment of regret over
the long-term wisdom of having used Frrbnglrr as a test subject
for her own early experiments in chemically-based mind control.
"His efficiency in the field has really dropped since then,"
she thought to herself. "I wonder if there could have been
side effects?"
--
Meanwhile, the Princess's robotic handmaiden, Genari, was
entertaining the Princess's latest guest while he awaited her
pleasure. Deke was a strong-jawed, handsome scout ship pilot
of one of the hairless races that so tickled the Princess's
fancy, and he had caught her eye at a party held in honor of
some brave exploratory deed of his that the Princess hadn't
bothered to pay attention to. Next-to-youngest in a family
of over two dozen siblings, Princess Thrrmm was nowhere near
the succession to the actual Imperial Throne; but her
parentage gave her the social position to get almost anything
she wanted. And at the moment, she wanted Deke.
All this ticked through Genari's robotic brain as she bustled
about the lavish bar in Princess Thrrmm's informal lounge, mixing
Deke a drink. It pleased her mistress to keep Genari looking
like one of the hairless races most of the time, too, though
with her low-power built-in holographic projectors and the finely
tuneable pigments in her external skin, Genari could change minor
aspects of her appearance at whim. Most observers never knew
she was a robot, though the fact that Princess Thrrmm owned an
expensively customized sexbot was by no means a secret.
But Genari hoped her default configuration would help to put
Deke at ease. She had chosen her clothing to emphasize this
commonality between them, showing Deke as much of her hairless
skin as possible.
She attempted to engage him in small talk, as well. "So, do
you come here often?"
Deke started. "Excuse me?" he asked. Never completely
comfortable in social situations, the young pilot guessed that
it wouldn't be polite to drool too much over the Princess's
handmaiden, though her curves seemed to exert an almost physical
pull on his eyes. He was therefore trying desperately to find
something else in the room to focus on, which gave him a rather
distracted air. He'd been eyeing a bit of statuary on the
coffee table, trying to figure out what it depicted, and he'd
just started to suspect that it was something rather lewd, when
the handmaiden piped up with what sounded like a cheesy bar
pickup line.
"I am trying to put you at your ease. The Princess will be
detained for a short while, and she has asked me to look after
you in her absence. If there is anything you would like me to
do for you-- anything at all-- I am entirely at your disposal.
Here is your drink." Genari bent over to hand Deke his drink,
giving him a good view of the tops of her generous breasts--
only two, as her mistress had chosen, which matched Deke's race
as well-- and he seemed momentarily unable to tear his eyes
from them. Due to her original sexbot programming, Genari
delighted in being looked at, and was pleased to see that Deke
was so affected by the sight of her. She smiled in approval as
he tore his gaze away from her chest and downed a healthy swig
of liquor, as if hearty drinking would distract him from the
sexbot.
Of course, the Princess wasn't really detained, exactly...
Genari laid a gentle hand on Deke's shoulder. "Ooh, but you
are so tense! Here, let me massage your shoulders-- I am fully
trained in massage techniques. I'm sure I can make you feel
much more comfortable."
Deke wasn't sure he wanted to feel more comfortable, but he
didn't protest as Genari dug her surprisingly strong fingers
into his shoulders, and the feeling *was* very pleasant.
"Here, finish up that drink and relax a bit," Genari suggested,
and Deke tossed back the rest of his liquor and set down the
glass.
"That's it... just let your head droop down so I can reach
*all* those muscles..." purred Genari, as Deke gave up his back
to her ministrations. "That's it... just relax and let me take
care of you. Close your eyes... yes... and think about 'Mission
Gallium.'"
Deke's body stirred in surprise for a moment, then went
completely limp. Genari gently eased him into a prone position
on the couch, crooning softly in his ear the whole time. "Yes...
that's right... *all* the way down..."
Mind control devices were illegal in the Imperium, but subjects
in certain postings, such as the scout pilot service, could
receive a small amount of mental conditioning to train them to
resist pain and such things. Princess Thrrmm had obtained, at
great expense and effort, the key words that had been used in
Deke's training. Together with the drugs she'd put in Deke's
liquor, Genari planned to use those well-established triggers
to mold Deke into a proper bed partner for her mistress. Princess
Thrrmm did happen to be busy just then, but Genari would have
had this duty in any case; a duty she found immensely satisfying.
"Now Deke... your concentration on your mission is so very
great that you can narrow your entire world down to just my voice,
focusing only on my words, can you do that for me? Your mouth
can move easily to respond."
"Yes..."
"Yes, and any other thoughts that might distract you will just
drift away, reminding you to focus more completely on my instructions.
You are focused on my instructions now, aren't you, Deke?"
"Yes..."
"Yes, you are, and now I am going to teach you some very
important skills. You will need these skills for your next
mission, so you must learn them so thoroughly that they become
completely automatic to you, as natural as breathing. You will not
need to think about these skills, they will just come to you as
you need them; so now you must concentrate completely on learning
them so well that they become a permanent part of you. Are you
ready to do that?"
"Yes..."
"Good. Now the first skill that you must master," Genari
continued, holographically altering her face to look like the
Princess, "is your response to Princess Thrrmm. Whenever you see
her face... hear her voice... or her name... or think about her
for any reason. While retaining this deep concentration on my
words, I want you to open your eyes now, and we will practice
your reaction."
As Deke's eyes slowly opened, Genari deftly slid her hand inside
the front of his pants.
--
The rest of John Park's day just got better and better. The
first girl he ran into on campus was Sandra Bayle, a bespectacled
hottie he'd often sat near in his freshman English class. Now
double majoring in math and physics, Sandra was about a hundred
times smarter than John even in his own estimation, and though
distantly friendly, seemed totally uninterested in jumping his
bones. Time to test the mysterious mind-control ray a bit more.
Quickly making sure no-one else was in the hall in either
direction, John took the ray gun out of his bag and held it
concealed behind a corner of the hallway. "Hey, Sandra, what's up?"
he called, to get her attention; then, feigning shock, he suddenly
peered over her shoulder. "What on Earth--?" he said.
"Hi, John. What? I don't see--" Sandra got out, before the
hypno-ray cut her off as she turned her head to look down the hall
behind her.
"You've just realized how sexy I am. You'd like to get in my
pants. When I ask you to go out with me tonight, you will say
yes," John told her, then cut off the hypno-ray and quickly hid
it behind the corner again.
"--anything," Sandra continued as if she'd never stopped, and
turned back around to face John. Then she inhaled suddenly when
her eyes reached his face, and John saw her pupils dilate as she
stared into his eyes, momentarily transfixed. After a moment,
she hastily looked away. "Um, so, ah... what's up?"
"I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me tonight.
There's this--"
"Yes!" Sandra interrupted, then looked sheepish.
"Yeah? Ok, so how about if I pick you up around 8?"
"That sounds fine." Sandra kept looking away from his face,
as if afraid of staring again, but she darted little glances at
John's arms and chest and hands and crotch. John tried not to
laugh.
"Ok, I'll need your address."
"Oh! Um, here..." Sandra dug in her bag, and John took the
opportunity to hide the mind-control device behind his own.
After a moment, Sandra pulled out a piece of paper and hastily
jotted down her dorm, room number, phone number, and two email
addresses.
John stuffed the paper in his pocket. "Thanks. See you
tonight, babe." Still hiding the ray-gun behind his bag, he
quickly walked down the hallway and out of sight. *Score*!
he thought.
--
Slowly walking back to her dorm, Sandra puzzled over her
sudden reaction to John. He'd certainly never interested her
before, but today he seemed different somehow. Riveting. Even
the "babe" comment, which she normally hated, just seeemd...
daring. She realized her panties were slightly wet from that
brief encounter in the hallway, and she blushed. Tonight would
be interesting...
--
Genari's session with Deke went well, and she was able to move
quite quickly to her favorite part of the procedure: sexual
skills training. Though scout ships generally carried only the
lone pilot and there couldn't be too many suitable partners out
on the frontier where he spent most of his career, Deke seemed
to have at least plenty of natural talent to go with his
boundless enthusiasm. So most of Genari's effort was spent just
directing him towards particular things that the Princess
liked, and teaching him the system of gestures that would allow
the Princess, or Genari, to give commands to his subconscious
mind without him noticing, while he was otherwise awake.
Of course, she got in lots of good fucking, too. Her designers
still argued about whether it was correct to talk of androids
experiencing pleasure, or whether they merely simulated it; but
Genari was programmed to seek out sexual stimulation quite avidly.
And she simulated orgasm very well.
She was in the middle of a bout of stamina training,
conditioning Deke to be unable to have an orgasm until given
permission by the Princess, and to keep on pleasuring her until
then, when Princess Thrrmm walked in to see how the training
was going.
"OHH! OHHH! *YES*, Deke!--- Oh, hello, your Majesty!-- OHHHH!--
How was-- YESS!-- your-- YESSS!-- call to-- *JUST* like that!--
Earth?"
"My agent there is in danger of--"
"OHHH YES!"
"-- disappointing me. How is this *darling*--"
"AHHH!"
"-- man coming along?"
"HAAAAA! Ahhh, ahh... Quite well, your Majesty. He's--
Ooohhh!-- lasted through-- Oh!-- twenty-five of my-- OHH!--
simulated orgasms, and-- MMmmm... still hard as AHH! a Denebian
pillar-worm in-- Oohyes-- rutting season. MMMmmm... and his
cardiovascular fitness is quite O-oh! good, as OH! you can
OHH! see *OHHHH!*"
"Twenty-five, Genari? You know I rarely--"
"OHHHHHHHH!"
"-- go above eighteen."
"OHYES-- It is-- YES!-- important to-- YESS!-- leave a
margin of error-- YESYES!-- in the conditioning-- OHH!--
process, your Majesty. OHHYESYES! OHFUCKME! OHHH,
nearly twentysixOHHHOHHH--"
Reaching around the sexbot's head, Princess Thrrmm tapped
the snooze button on the back of Genari's neck, leaving her
frozen for ten minutes just on the verge of her twenty-sixth
simulated orgasm. At the same time, leaning in to place her
lips next to Deke's ear, she murmured huskily, "Cum *NOW*,
Deke."
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! *YES* MY PRINCESSS OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH..."
roared her long-delayed lover-in-training, as the Princess
eyed his naked chest and bucking hips in appreciation.
"Twenty-six orgasms," the Princess muttered to herself.
"I cannot *abide* uppity servants."
_________________________________________________________________________
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