(An alien invasion story)
Low Earth Orbit
Hundreds of miles above and nestled within the Earth’s thermosphere, is the Orion mother ship that’s aptly named Otrokář. It hovers in place, awaiting the return of it’smuch smaller brethren and their recently gathered payloads. The first harvest could take anywhere from six to eight months, or maybe even a year. But in the end, the precious cargo inside those holds would be well worth the wait.
Within the throne room of the massive ship, Queen Admira sits upon her throne made of gold and ivory. In near total silence, the supreme leader basks beneath the soothing glow of emerald mood lighting. This artificial source of light is meant to mimic that of the star of Orion, which is the most prominent sun on her home planet. This was just one of the many personal touches that the queen had implemented, in an effort to make her feel more at home.
Though well equipped, this throne room is laughably smaller than the one back on the homeland. Of course there’s the raised circular dais that upholds Admira’s impressive throne, along with the troop of faithful servants that befitted her station. In the background, there’s a beautiful green-skinned maiden who strums away delightfully on an upright harp. And to add a little decadence, the queen has even decorated her modest surroundings with a small collection of suspiciously detailed statuary. But even with these costly additions, her temporary quarters still pale next to the vast courtyards of the royal palace.
The queen missed the imperial garden, and tending to the bizarre variety of plants that she had collected from abroad. Each type had been lovingly repotted and then displayed in custom-made, walk-in enclosures, which serve to present them in their very own natural environment. Then there were the elaborate birdbaths that were frequently visited by an exotic population of birds, all collected from afar. But what the queen missed most of all, was being able to roam through her garden of erotic statuary. She’d been known to spend countless hours, simply studying the many nude forms - both male and female - or otherwise. Each detailed effigy served to represent a living species from the many unfortunate planets that the Orion’s had already conquered.
The supreme leader rolls her eyes in boredom and silently reflects, The many sacrifices I have to make, in order to seek pastures anew…
Queen Admira relaxes back against her throne, draping one curvy leg over the other.
Standing over one arm of her throne is a young underling named Jaro. The shirtless boy slowly fans the queen with an elaborate horsetail plume. Standing at the arm directly across, is Jaro’s twin sister - Merta. She stands firm on her bare feet, wearing nothing more than a wispy toga, and the circular wreath of flowers that rests upon her raven crown. The girl waits ever so patiently, with her forearms fixed outward, and with a gilded serving tray placed upon her upraised palms.
The girl asks in an attentive voice, “Would you like another stem of fruit, my queen?”
Admira flashes her pleasant smile and pats young Merta on the head. “That’s quite alright my dear, I’m afraid that I’m not that hungry at the moment.”
Merta politely nods and flashes a genial smile of her own. She then turns with trained precision, and carefully steps down from the raised dais. With her long black mane shimmering beneath the emerald mood lighting, she walks across the room with perfect poise. When the girl arrives at the extravagant buffet table, she politely dips in place and surrenders her tray to an awaiting attendant. That servant gives Merta a nod, indicating that she’s sufficiently completed her task.
Merta graciously nods her head in return and murmurs a soft, “Oui-ti.”
The female underling then executes a perfect right turn and walks towards a small grouping of statues. It is here, among the living dead, that the young girl takes her place upon her own dais. Merta reaches for her shoulder and unhooks her toga, allowing it to glide gracefully to her feet. She steps out of the garment and slowly maneuvers her limbs into a pre-determined pose. Without speaking a word, she fixes her stare and slips off into a state of frozen solitude.
The queen looks on from her throne with a satisfied expression. - They’ve trained her well, she silently muses.
…Admira’s appreciative gaze of her latest female nude doesn’t last for very long.
The hydraulic doors to the left of the queen’s throne sweep open with a “shush-it” sound. In the hallway beyond, the fast-paced click of stiletto-heeled boots on solid steel flooring, foretell who it might be…
From somewhere beyond the parted doors, an alert guardsman orders, “All hail the princess!”
Inside the queen’s quarter’s, the green-skinned thralls and brooding guardsmen alike, all bow forward in respect. Only the life-like statues remain resolute…
Queen Admira looks up to see her only daughter - Theramea - fast approaching. Choosing to speak in their own alien tongue, the queen goes on to inquire, “Where have you been, my dear? …I haven’t seen you in almost seven bells.”
The arrogant woman clacks across the room, flipping her perfectly groomed mane over her shoulder like some prized mare. Each lengthy stride of her curvaceously long legs, projects a sense of purpose - much like they always do…
“I have been quite busy, mother,” the woman states before going on to advise, “And I do believe that I have some good news.”
Queen Admira lets out an doubtful laugh, as she stretches out languidly on her side. With a note of disinterest in her voice, the elder royal goes on to request, “Do tell.”
Before Theramea can even give her spiel, she flashes a look of distain at the harp player in the corner. The young maiden continues to strum away lightly, as if she hadn’t a care in the world…
The princess looks back at her mother and gives her “the look.”
The queen lets out a sigh in disgust before she’s heard to mumble, “That’s the problem with the newer generation these days: they have no respect for good music!”
Queen Admira casually tilts an aged hand over her shoulder and takes aim at the unknowing harp player. She snaps her fingers just once, and the maiden’s arms fall slack. A simple flutter of the queen’s fingers, causes the maiden to drop back in her seat.
Theramea watches as the maiden’s head slowly tilts forward, indicating that she’s now in a state of slumber.
Indifferent of her own powers, the queen goes on to inquire, “…Now you were about to say?”
Theramea flashes a satisfied smile and goes on to inform, “I believe we’ve found a way to bump up our quota in the mid-western sector of the United States.”
“Mmm, that’s under Kiyar’s command, is it not?”
“Yes it is,” confirms the princess.
“One of our converts in the state police department there, recently notified us of some sort of - I believe they called it - a motorcycle rally? …Anyway, this event draws crowds of people from all over the Midwest. He also went on to inform us that there are literally hundreds, if not thousands of beautiful women there.”
- Admira suddenly shows interest by leaning forward on her throne.
“What type of setting is it?”
“That’s the best part!” exclaims the princess. “It’s held in a secluded area on the outskirts of a small town. The property covers almost thirty acres, including the main bar, music stages and parking areas, so this is no… What do they call it?”
Admira instructs, “A watering hole.”
“Right!…I figure we can go in, stabilize the area, harvest what we need, and then convert the rest, all without even being detected.”
“Hmm…And you’ve conferred with Kiyar on this?”
“The council is drawing up the plans as we speak.”
Admira states, “Very well then, I’ll contact him this evening.”
With a sweetness in her voice that is rarely heard, Theramea goes on to say, “Thank yooou, mother…”
“You’re certainly welcome, my dear.”
Satisfied that she’s gotten her way once again, Theramea does an about face and marches off in the direction in which she came. As she’s approaching the hydraulic doors, she eyes a couple of Royal Guards that are standing in the shadows on either side. Like most Orion males, they were tall and well muscled. She steps up to the nearest one, whom stands board-straight and with a suspender weapon at his side. He’s attired in standard Royal Guard livery, consisting of a gold-beaded choker, strapped sandals, and a bronzed galea on his head. A pair of charcoal colored briefs with Egyptian scrollwork in gold, covers his bottom.
- Well hello there…
Theramea brushes a hand over his bare chest, allowing the fine hairs to tickle the tips of her fingers. She cracks a favorable smile and glances downward. The guard’s Lycra briefs are tight, and she can easily make out the remarkable imprint of his cock. The princess drags her blood-red nails up over his thickness, and the male’s unit springs to life. She cracks another appreciative smile...
- Mother always had a good eye for those things…
Despite his admirer’s advances, the guard remains steadfast - his earpieces told him to do so. …And like the true tease that she is, the princess leaves him standing there at attention, in more ways than one…
A call from the queen…
It’s sometime later, when Queen Admira decides to summon the user interface for her computer. The viewing screen appears out of thin air, and she begins fingering through numerous visual feeds from the other ships around the earth. The queen is searching for a ship that is stationed in rural Kansas…
- Ah!…There she is.
Having located the collection ship Chimera, Admira uses her hands to maneuver around several more views on the screen. She’s trying to locate a live feed of the captain’s quarters…
Onboard the Chimera, Captain Kiyar is maneuvering views around on his own interface screen. He’s reviewing plans for their next mission, when the entire screen suddenly blinks to another view. The almighty queen unexpectedly appears and the captain immediately bows forward in respect...
Queen Admira returns the gesture. Speaking in native Orion, she casually greets, “Well hello there captain… I just thought I’d check in on the progress with our politician friend.”
“Yes, your royal highness . . . I was actually just with him.”
“I’m not so sure he’s convinced.”
The queen crosses her arms over in a sign of agitation. Her expression looks troubled…
“You did show him his family, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but I’m afraid the sight of his daughter may have been too much for him. He broke down and began weeping like an earth child.”
“I have no patience for the weak of heart, captain. The mayor isn’t doing me any good just sitting around his cell and weeping himself to sleep. I want that man converted and placed back in his office where he belongs! …And besides, I have some big plans for him.”
“As you wish, your royal highness. I will have him sent to the conversion room and wired up at once.”
The queen then inquires, “And how about our little news reporter?”
“We already have Olivia Munson wired up,” informs the captain. “She’s currently undergoing stage two conditioning.”
“Excellent!” exclaims the queen. “She’ll make a fine little puppet! …And the rest of her crew, did you manage to get them too?”
“We have the crew, the news anchors, and everyone else that’s involved with local broadcasting. My second and third units overtook both the news, and the radio station, nearly at the same time that we overran the town hall.”
“That’s even better yet!” says the queen before she goes on to impart, “…And once you control the government and the media, then you have control of the masses.”
“Oh, most certainly, your highness.”
The queen then goes on to address, “Now I shouldn’t have to remind you that we need to step up our production numbers. The demand for human females has never been higher, and if a production increase can only be achieved by rounding up the entire herd, then we need to start harvesting - en masse! …We’ve given you the best equipment and the trained personnel to achieve this goal, now put them to use!”
“But of course, your highness. I do believe that this next strike will give us the higher numbers that you’ve been looking for.”
Admira reminds that it’s not just the quantity of their stock, but the quality as well.
The captain replies, “My technicians scan each and every candidate, your highness. We try to keep only those with the most potential.”
“Very good, captain. …The last thing we need is an entire storage hold full of dogs that aren’t even fit for resale. …They won’t do us any good, no matter how compliant we can make them, is that understood?”
“Yes, your highness.”
“Now, onto yet another important matter. Have you prepared your forces for the July 4th invasion?”
“I have already briefed my troops about the upcoming mission, and I can assure you that the strike will be swift and efficient.”
Admira cracks a pleased smile at Kiyar’s response. “That’s terrific, captain. And I must say that you’ve done some impressive work in the last twenty four hours. However, I think I’m going to send Theramea down for this next mission, just to help oversee things.”
…Kiyar can’t manage to hide his disappointed expression.
Sensing the captain’s discontent, the queen goes on to query, “Is that going to be a problem for you?”
Kiyar swallows hard in his throat and ensures, “No…not at all, your highness.”
Admira narrows her eyes in suspicion. “I shall remind you, captain, that my daughter is a highly decorated warrior. She will not only make your mission run smoother, but she might teach you a thing or two about going into battle.”
“But what, captain?”
“She has these…Well, for a lack of a better word - tendencies.”
“We all have tendencies, captain . . . Even I have them. But my daughter’s sexual urges have nothing to do with carrying out this mission, do I make myself clear?”
The captain tries to hide his disappointment and regrettably answers, “But of course, my queen.”
Admira nods her head in approval and affirms, “Very good, captain…Now did you learn anything new from this latest batch of captives?”
Kiyar gets a worried look. He goes on to confess, “There was this police woman that was captured at the scene. After deep conditioning, she informed us that she had spoken to the sheriff on her radio, in the middle of a local dinner . . . There might have been some witnesses…”
Admira’s nostrils flare and she furrows an eyebrow. “Captain, I need not remind you about the consequences of exposure and traceability!”
Kiyar is quick to assure, “I had two of our converts return to the scene. They captured the owner’s of the diner, as well as the waitress that worked that shift. The owner’s are being converted as we speak, while the waitress has been added to our stock. …As for the possibility of any exposure, we continue to remain undetected at the target. And as you know, my queen; every day above ground is a good day.”
“I suppose it is, captain. Just be sure that the mental conditioning “takes” on those restaurant owners. They will surely be of use to us, if they come in contact regularly with the public.”
The captain mentally replies, “But of course, your highness.”
“Well I’m afraid I must be going, captain. But I’ll leave you with another earth phrase to ponder; “to the victor belong the spoils!”
Kiyar furrows a bushy eyebrow, as if pondering the actual meaning of the phrase. “To the victor belong the spoils? …Hmm. Sounds rather interesting!”
Admira flashes him a sly look and replies, “And I can assure you captain, that it’s so very, very true!”
As the face of the queen fades from view, Kiyar spins around in his chair and expels a deep breath. Fearful of being overheard, the captain knows enough to keep his thoughts to himself. …Theramea overseeing the mission?…That’s all I need!
* * * * * *
To be CONTINUED… with The Hawg Fest Invasion (Part 1)