Cynthia didn’t resist, didn’t even think as the Auswain came charging in. She didn’t know where the word came from and she sure as shit didn’t know what it meant, but as she stared at the hardened black armour that sloped gently down over their large chests and wrapped tightly around their shapely waists. Their faces were hidden behind featureless black masks and in their hands were clutched long barrelled rifles of some otherworldly design.

Cynthia had been a gun fiend for a long time and if she’d seen the alien weapon’s before the green light had burned her new understanding into her brain she might have commented on how unwieldy the gun’s length was, or how inefficient a weapon with no sighting mechanism would be. But not now. Instead, she now found herself admiring the gun’s sleek beauty, much like the Alien bodies that were right now marching down the supermarket’s aisles and rounding up prisoners, the gun had certain, undeniable eroticism to it.

Cynthia sighed heavily, a rapturous moan of pleasure slipped past her wet lips as a pair of alien legs stepped in front of her view.

Then, a flash of white light whisked her away.

“Merediithhhh, nhh, dunnn dooo thissssss,” Jane slurred as her friend locked her arms around her body and stepped out the front door, dragging her weak form with her.

Ahead, to the left, the Alien that called herself A’nasi walked toward the barn. From inside the tall, crimson coloured buildings front doors an unearthly, sickly green glow spilled out.

Jane’s eyes tried to follow the light, tried to keep it in focus, but something about it made her turn her eyes away. She winced as the green light flashed in front of her, an unearthly rhythmic pulse that looked like an alien disco ball.

Her wandering, weak eyes rolled about in her head and then finally found something else to home in on. The rolling, swaying hips of her alien captor. She stared at A’nasi’s ass as she strutted purposefully through the field toward the barn. Jane had no idea how she walked on such uneven ground in such tall heels.

She almost looked like some fey goddess. Jane shook the thought from her mind and tried to focus on the here and now.

“Merrredddittth!” Jane hissed, craning her neck upwards to stare at her entranced friend, “leeeetmmmeeegooooooo!”

Meredith didn’t even look down at her, she simply kept staring ahead, a content smile plastered across her face.

Then, the scent hit her nostrils. Jane winced as the sickly sweet smell crept up her nose.

She knew that smell.

She tilted her head to the side. It was Meredith. Jane’s face was level with Meredith’s hips and the smell was coming from....there.

It was the same smell as in the house, in the kitchen, where she’d touched that slime.

Which meant Meredith was...producing it.

“Ohhhhhh goddddddd!” Jane groaned as she tried, feebly, to pull away. What the fuck was going on.

Officer Darla Whitney had never seen such a strange sight. Outside the Library, arranged in uniform rows, was an alien army. They stood shoulder to shoulder, long barrelled rifled slung over their shoulders. She stared, they couldn’t really be aliens, right? No, that was ridiculous.

But they sure looked the part. Darla looked over the storm trooper’s again, each one was female. Of that she was certain, each curved, sleek hook of their armour spelled that out perfectly.

But what kind of American military group only employed females? None, as far as she knew.

She gently eased open the door of her patrol cruiser and loosened the clip over her side-arm’s holster.

She closed the door behind her, again trying to make a minimum of noise, she drew her pistol, slowly, but kept it down by her waist as she stepped around the cruiser.

Her heart was pounding inside her chest, she realized. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she slowly began to walk towards the strange soldiers.

Her boots clip-clopped on the hard floor, “Hello?”

The soldiers turned as one, pivoting on their heels to face Darla, the uniform smoothness of the motion stunned her and for a second she simply stared at the crowd of soldiers in shock, mouth agape.

“I’m a police officer, I’m going to have to ask you to put the guns down....”

The crowd spoke as once, a thick chorus of synthesized voices sounded together, “Only a Mistress may order these units to relinquish weapons!”

Darla stopped dead, her pistol wavering slightly in her hand. One of the soldiers stepped out of line, stepping toward Darla with a machine-like efficiency.

Darla stepped back and raised her pistol, “Halt!”

The soldier didn’t even flinch as Darla fired a warning shot high above it’s head. The crack of gunfire echoed in the empty, dark street.

A bead drop of sweat splattered down across her eye, then another. She was shaking. The soldier stopped in front of her, ten metres or so away.

Darla heard the slippery wet shlick of latex on latex as the soldier raised her rifle to shoulder height. There was a brief pause, a second of indecision that Darla regretted instantly.

“Do not resist,” The soldier said suddenly, the barrel of the rifle flashed, an orb of white light struck Darla right in the centre of the chest.

Her limbs went numb, her body, which had been shaking moments before, collapsed to the ground without a murmur. The pistol she carried clattered away, landing at the trooper’s feet. She didn’t even feel her body hit the ground.

Some guttural, primal sound of fear erupted from Darla’s entranced throat.

“Be still, compliance is needed,” The trooper-drone stated, it’s voice robotic and unwavering.

The trooper knelt next to her and slung her stun-rifle back over her shoulder.

“Breathe,” The trooper-drone commanded, pulling a gas-mask like helmet from her belt, Darla mewled weakly in response and tried to will her body into movement. Nothing happened.

The trooper reached out with one black-gloved hand and lifted Darla’s head up, with the other she fixed the gas-mask to her face.

There was a sickly-sweet smell on the inside, Darla took a single, quick gasp of the scent. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed into unconsciousness.

Cynthia couldn’t remember how long she’d been locked into the pleasure-frame for. The green visor that covered her eyes had taught her the phrase and instructed her to relax.

You are a pleasure slave, it told her. Over and over again, in that long sibilant hiss that was so easy to imagine was coming from the mouth of the Goddess-Mistress she’d seen before. Everything was a green haze, she could neither see anything nor hear anything but the voice.

Cynthia groaned into the gag she’d been fitted with, the visor flashed an image into her brain; Cynthia on her knees, an Auswain standing next to her and a Goddess towering over them both.

Hierarchy, the visor told her. Cynthia nodded, pleased with the idea, being at the bottom rung of any ladder would have angered her before. But now, after meeting the Goddess and her Auswain soldiers being beneath them seemed so right.

She thought of conceding, of accepting the knowledge the visor gave her, of kneeling in submission to the new thoughts imprinting their lessons into her brain.

The visor triggered a spray of ambrosia into her mouth. Cynthia came, hard. She knew the ambrosia needed a body to gestate, she knew that the spray that had just been given to her had been fed from the slave-cunt of the woman to her left and she knew that her orgasm would in turn reward the woman on the right. The visor had taught her that too.

The hierarchy was wonderful like that.

Jane shivered as she was stripped. Laid out on the floor of the barn, the only thing she could do was stare up at her captor and try to kill her through staring.

Meredith was a lost cause, that much had become clear. Even now, as her friend tugged her pants down and hurled them to the side she remained impassive. Her eyes blank, her ambrosia coated skin glinted in the green light from the pods.

The pods, lining each wall and both floors of the barn, looked like a fridge out of hell. Each one sat immobile, but powered up, waiting for an occupant to bend and meld into another mindfucked slave.

Jane flinched as A’nasi stepped back into view, her impossibly arched heels clacking against the ground a scant few inches from her face.

“Drone 1, please lift Drone 2 into her pod,” A’nasi ordered, directing Meredith with her arm.

Meredith had never been particularly strong, but under the command of her Mistress she lifted Jane with ease, hefting her up and throwing Jane’s still form over her shoulder without a second’s pause. Meredith marched towards an open pod, A’nasi walked a step behind them, it would be unbecoming of her to walk in the same steps as a slave.

Jane uttered a short, reluctant gasp as Meredith strapped her into the arm-bindings. Drone 1 stepped back, allowing A’nasi to take her place in front of the entrapped Detective.

“I hope you find the pod to your liking, Drone 2. You’ll be spending quite some time inside of it,” A’nasi grinned widely, allowing her snake-tongue to roll across her sharpened teeth, “Such a shame I couldn’t break you personally, or turn you into a pleasure slave, it would have been such fun.”

Jane grunted out a slurred, “Fucckkk yuuu!”

A’nasi smacked her lips together, “Now, now, no need for vulgarity, Drone 2! At least, not yet at least....”

A’nasi snapped her fingers and Drone 1/Meredith turned to face her, “Kneel, slave, now! Configuration 23b!”

Meredith dropped to her knees, with seemingly no concern for the hard floor beneath her and the damage it could cause to her knees.

Jane whimpered as she pulled against her restraints. A’nasi tore open the crotch of her bodysuit with one long, curved fingernail. She stepped forward, taking a hold of the back of Meredith’s head with her hand, and slowly lowered herself onto Meredith’s waiting, hungry, eager mouth.

“Mmmmmm, perfect!” A’nasi turned to Jane’s entrapped form and raised a small device, she let her mouth form a small ‘O’ of pleasure and then hit the button in the centre of the device.

Jane felt a single tear slip down her face as she watched Meredith begin to eat out the alien woman in front of them.

A second later, ambrosia began to spurt and fill the pod and a sickly green visor snapped down over her eyes.

Jane felt her skin become flush and hot and let out a long, low moan as the ambrosia set her cunt ablaze. She writhed in her bonds, trying to free herself from the pleasantly burning liquid.

The visor turned on with a low hum, igniting the green light within and began burning it’s knowledge into Jane’s soft, pliant brain.