<- Back to Index
Hyperlinks in the text are intended as supplemental material, discussing elements of the science behind the science fiction. They are not intended as required reading for the story. Hyperlinks will be provided at the point in the story where it comes up, but all the links will also be collected at the bottom of the post for easy reading.
Thank you for reading! Me and my coauthor Darinost are gradually combining forces and blogs, so the joint comment section for our stories is currently located on discord! Come on in and let us know what you thought, we don’t bite.
Martina Barzola woke into a daze, groggy and disoriented as she fought to remember where she was. It was so cold… she couldn’t remember ever waking up this cold. Her long-lashed eyebrows flickered in slow-motion, going up and down rigidly, almost automatically as she blinked the uncomfortable heaviness of sleep from her eyes. Her brain felt like it was coated in cobwebs, but she was still aware enough to recognize that this wasn’t normal… she was pretty sure she had never woke before in a snug enclosure of stainless steel and darkness with only frost-covered glass windows connecting her to the outside world.
Though she still did not possess the cognitive capacity to process it yet, the Midgar-6 had deactivated her artificial torpor and was now flooding her systems with life-resuscitating chemicals. Reawakening someone from a long stay in suspended animation was a delicate process. The body and brain needed to slowly thaw as preserving chemicals were replaced by blood, her mind and body reanimated from the cold darkness of near death as every muscle and organ slowly came awake once more. Her eyes still felt heavy… underneath the haze of her vision, the light in the tank seemed indistinguishably dim.
Like all Terran colonists, Martina had been sleeping vertical and nude, kept just a degree or two above absolute zero. Confined within her hibernation pod, there was no outside stimuli to speed up her recovery… the tank blocked out most sights and all sounds, almost like she existed within a heavy sensory-deprivation tank. It felt like she was being born into the world again. The device offered better protection than a mother’s womb, yet it lacked the warmth of it, replaced with mechanically impersonal efficiency.
The Hispanic woman groaned. Her enforced dormancy in cold sleep should have only lasted most of a year, but to Martina it felt like it had lasted a century. As the warmth spread throughout her voluptuous figure however, enveloping her torso before creeping down into her unfeeling extremities, familiar ambitions birthed inside the public official’s mind. She began to check herself, her memory, the movements of her arms and legs even as she felt needles slip free of her skin and retreat back into the stasis pod… checking for any sign of ailment. Her memory told her that amnesia or partial physical paralysis were the most common side effects of cryosleep. Such afflictions were – except in instances of extreme misfortune – always temporary, but they could have had incredibly bad effects on her ambitions. Martina had trained herself to a competition-level of fitness before abandoning Earth, so the Lieutenant Governor had dearly hoped upon entering dreamland that her eventual defrosting would run smoothly… and it appeared it had.
Project Miranda represented a clean break from the Federation’s direct oversight… a break from the established hierarchy where there wouldn’t be centuries of older, more established men and women in power above her. Men and women lived far longer these days, and that meant that it was hard for a relatively young and ambitious woman like Martina to get ahead where power was already established. Miranda would be a paradise, a burgeoning planet whose society that could be guided and formed, and Martina meant to see that it was done to her own desires. She was only one of many Governors of the colonists, those with enough power to be chosen but not so much they would reluctant to abandon it on earth, but even before she set foot on the planet she already had plans to be the one on top. Alliances and hierarchies on a new world could be extremely fluid, and by the time the planet would join the Federation as a full member she meant for hers to be the face of the new world. The prestige of being known as the founder of an entirely new Terran dominion suited her fine.
Martina began tapping her toes against the base of the pod, waiting impatiently… even though she had to admit that the medics apparently were competent as her recuperation truly proceeded at marvelous speed and without any side effects she could sense. Soon she would be out and free to begin directing the disembarking, arguing with the HEF space jockeys that had got them here. Idly, she wondered if it was too bold a move to name the world’s capital after herself once she succeeded to the highest office. The City of Martina on the planet Miranda. It seemed to fit on a stylistic level… she liked the sound of it. Something big walked past the porthole, but she couldn’t see what it was, and lost in her own thoughts she didn’t think much of it.
Martina felt no shame at the idea of stepping out onto the ship naked… and well should she not. She was a bombshell, on Earth or any other world. She knew she was a knockout, and her face was more than capable of entrancing voters by the hundreds of thousands. Tall and blessed with what she considered an ideal figure, wide and soft in all the right places at breast and hips, narrow and slender in all other places, the Latina was a fulfillment of classical ideals that women admired and men desired. Olive-hued and dark-haired, her skin felt like it was kissed all over by the sun, and it would glow in even the wan light of a ship. Briefly, she wondered what sort of reaction she was going to get from the ensigns when they opened her pod, with her emerging from cryosleep as naked as Venus emerging from the waves. Awe? Abashment? Or would they simply be too stunned to do more than stare? Whatever the reaction was, she reckoned that it was going to be worth remembering.
“What’s taking so long?” Martina muttered. She was impatient to get started.
There was a snapping sound like a bolt coming undone. Then a loud crank as they began to open the door from the outside. They were working on getting her out. The Lieutenant Governor prepared her most winsome smile.
With a loud clamor, the convex door was hauled one-quarter open. A head peeked in through that diminutive gap and peered at her with hungry, crimson eyes. Having awaited a reception of starstruck admirers, Martina gaped in utter astonishment at the disparity of result. What was that thing?
“By the Dark Star, this one is a prize!” a voice came from the figure, The leathery, scaled lips of the monster widened into a fang-filled smile. The head that had poked through into her protective cocoon was draconian, eyes beaming malevolently like she was withering beneath the predatory gaze of Satan himself. Martina was gazing face-to-face with an exhilarated Kthid, an alien creature that she’d had no idea even existed seconds ago… but from his fiendish appearance, all that she could liken him to was a storybook monster or creature of nightmares.
Their introductions didn’t last long. Having seen something he wanted, the Kthid outside reached inside with one hand to pull Martina out. The dark-haired woman didn’t have the time and thought to even begin shrieking before that scaly claw clasped itself around her arm and began to yank. A scream of insentient, ear-piercing terror erupted from her throat as the Latina was pulled from her pod like a bird pulled from its nest by a hawk, clutching onto its bulk to try and stay in. Only when her head had emerged from the pod did the full clamor of what was occurring reach her ear. A chorus of terrifying feminine shouting surrounded her as thick as water in the ocean, coming from all around. The screams and wails of pain and terror were broken only by inhuman roaring, multiple triumphant, wrathful growls of excitement or victory.
Martina looked around in horrified shock as she was yanked out of her pod. They were in one of the rotating chambers that housed the innumerable colonists during their sleep. The architecture was like a domed and particularly steep-sided arena, rows upon rows of hibernation pods extending towards the apex of the chamber far enough that she needed to lift her head to see the top level. One tenth of the colonists were housed in one of these chambers, 100,000 people. When leaving Earth, they had been like a gathering of ghostly spectators, positioned as if beholding some spectral event in silence for many years, each given their own mausoleum. Now, these reptilian conquerors swarmed over the room like an invasive species, opening up the pods en masse. Martina was far from the only one being woken up and dragged from the relatively safety of her metal tomb… Thousands of other women were already disengaged and the levels were utterly covered with scenes of naked humans struggling against alien assailants. Upon the pathways between tanks, Martina beheld hundreds of interspecies scuffles, women kicking as they were being carried slung over a Kthid’s shoulder, and females running so quickly away from their malefactors that their hair fanned out behind them while amused figures loped over the dazed, confused women. Those in the far distance of the chamber appeared to her like small flies as they tussled and tried to get away in panic and inevitably were captured and forced down. It was a phantasmagoria of chaos… something out of a mad artist’s nightmare, and it made the Lieutenant Governor dizzy to look at it.
“Feisty whore!” the reptilian alien snarled as he yanked again and finally managed to dislodge Martina fully from the pod. In his grip, the Hispanic woman was held aloft with her feet off the ground, lifted as easily as a child would have been by his mighty arms. In spite of her awed bafflement, the sheer viciousness emanating from the draconian was so elementary in its form that even had her instincts not been screaming at her to avoid an obvious predator, she still wouldn’t have been able to help distinguishing his bad intentions for her. Panic-stricken, she began punching her fists against his muscular chest, the athletic woman struggling for her freedom with all her might… but it felt like she was punching a steel wall more than flesh.
“Let go of me!!” she shouted furiously, but she could scarcely hear herself… her cries just one among many. The dragonic creature was drooling so profusely that slimy saliva was splattered onto her bountiful chest and breasts, drenching her in his spit in his excitement. Martina feared that this fiendish extraterrestrial saw her as some delicacy, as something to be eaten… certainly only that could explain why so many women were running away in high alarm, and why this race possessed such flesh-rending teeth. She fought, presumably, for her life.
Her instinctive assumption, however, was soon replaced by an even more terrifying danger. A chance glance over the lizard’s chitinous shoulder revealed a scene that upended all that she had presumed. Barzola went from the combative wildness of a frenzied attempt to fight to being stilled by stone-cold shock. Down two levels below where they stood, one-quarter of the row had been opened at once… and the entire plane was filled with human captives and the alien predators that had pulled them from their icy tombs. They swarmed over the women… but it wasn’t carnivore feeding that her wide eyes saw, but a horrific orgy.
Green, scaly bodies pinned down lithe, fit human women as aliens thrust into their captives with crazed enthusiasm. No matter how Martina’s shocked mind tried to fight what she saw, to reinterpret it, the rutting motions of the aliens was impossible to mistake for anything other than sex. Naked breasts wobbled in rhythmic bounces and svelte limbs were entangled during the frantic impacts, the women’s torsos bending and twisting as they tried to get away from their rapists. These unknown aliens were defiling them in all manners of positions, their enormous advantage in strength enabling them to pound their victims however they desired. Martina saw women being fucked while lifted in their aggressor’s arms, taken violently from behind, flattened against a wall and skewered, and plundered pinned flat on their backs. These mad-eyed green behemoths seemed so enraptured by the need to fuck the colonists that it was utter disorder, a bedlam of cocks striking into womanhoods.
Universally, the body language and expression of the women below were of intense agony and discomfort. They weren’t just shocked or distressed or revolted by the unexpected sexual assault, but each one was clearly suffering an immense amount of raw pain in the process… their agony visible in their spasms and grimacing faces, not to mention the way their bodies were tossed around like discarded dolls. At first, Martina dared to hope the pain was merely because of the bulging thews with which the caiman aliens thrust, a product of the sheer muscle power being leveraged against their bodies… but the further she looked the more it became obvious that their agony was the product of another, more insidious force as well. Though the Kthid pounded with ferocious speed, the vastness of their cocks could just briefly be made out in mid stroke, and even beheld from a distance it was plainly obvious that those flesh-poles were bigger than anything humanity had ever had to offer. They jutted more like an extra dwarf limb than something Martina could easily identify as a sex organ. The tight fit had to be tearing them apart, especially considering how savagely the terror-lizards pummeled, and how desperate the women’s outcries were as it happened, but the aliens were clearly unable or willing to hold back in the slightest.
Having spotted the true size of those mammoth cocks, Martina was finally liberated from her cataleptic condition. Somehow, this was worse than being eaten. The mystery of why an alien would seek a sexual union with humans didn’t seem very important to the horrified Governor at the moment as, fully returned to her own predictions, the Hispanic woman gazed downward towards her predator’s crotch. She almost jolted out of his grip upon spotting the oblong enormity protruding upwards towards her nude pelvis.
“NOOO!” she bellowed with shrill urgency, realizing that she was going to be raped just like the others.
“Whore, you are an absolutely exquisite catch!” the rough-hued Kthid spoke, the words emerging from somewhere besides his face as he spoke, even as a growl came from his lips. “If I delay, some lucky Warrior is going to come by and take you away, so I better be sure you’re carrying my son by then.”
“WHAT!?” she exclaimed in horrified surprise. She didn’t understand Kthid society, not even as little as the crew of the Midgar-6 had come to… their stratified classes and ranks where might made right. She didn’t understand that the difference between this alien and some of the armored ones walking about was that he was one of the Casteless, the lowest-of-the-low whom rarely if ever got the opportunity to breed. Now, he had in his possession one of the most breathtaking specimens of womanhood in the entire cargo, and the young Kthid would not allow this opportunity to be wasted.
Held by the crook of her knees until her thighs were splayed outward, Martina was sat down upon the Kthid’s crotch so that their organs collided like a battering ram meeting a doorway. The hard, blunt collisions made her spine bend almost like she was a serpent standing upright as the pain went flooding through her. He had attempted just to drop her slit onto his hard-on, dry and unprepared… but instead of his prick yielding, her body had been bruised and hurt instead. Not dissuaded from the impossible penetration in the least, the youth moved to strongarm himself into her instead. He pulled downwards, wanting to slot their pieces together in the name of Kthid supremacy. Her pussy was designed to yield and his cock designed to penetrate, but with them being of such different species, the disparity between their sizes was so significant that even a blind woman could have told him that nothing short of sheer uncaring brutality was going to make this work.
Unfortunately for Martina, the young Kthid was more than happy to provide all that was needed.
“HYIIIAAAAHHHH!” the Lieutenant Governor bellowed, all her previous aspirations and fears and dreams seeming to vanish amid the sheer sea of torment as that monster cock was forced into her. Already her long-admired facial beauty was almost unrecognizable, her face twisted into a mask of agony by the pain this unnamed alien rapist put her through. Just seconds ago a baffled newcomer to this nightmarish reality, her anguished cries now joined the other women as they rang out across the chamber.
“You’re probably the hottest bitch I’ll ever get to fuck!” the dragon-headed xeno cackled. “Let’s make it memorable!” With the determination of a single-minded savage, the Kthid pushed deeper into her stretched folds, forcing his way right through the limit of her natural elasticity and passing them without a care as they were joined in an utterly unholy union of man and woman. He penetrated her utterly, and her body wrapped around him as she screamed in abject pain and terror. Though Martina had had a fair share of wild nights in more than a half century of life on Earth, she had never done anything to prepare herself for something like this. The sheer girth being pushed into her was a stress her body was never meant to take, his dick so tough and rigid that it felt like being impaled by the unyielding barrel of a rifle. This creature wasn’t a warm, loving or moral being in any sense of the word, but more like a piece of cold, unfeeling metal intent on fucking her to death.
Helpless, Martina was bobbed upon his crotch, his strong arms moving her up and down on him like she was more of a masturbation aid than a woman. Every collision between the head of his cock and her cervix felt like she was being punched right through her vaginal canal. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her mind seeming utterly destroyed by the undiluted agony of how she was being used… screaming and shaking her head as she was raped among a sea of rapes. He fucked her hard enough that her entire body shook with each movement, her large breasts bouncing in time as he treated her like a piece of meat, even her firm ass still wobbling after each rebound. She thought that this was the pinnacle of bearable agony for a human to survive, too pained to even scream any more, but she realized how wrong she was when her rapist kicked into another gear, brutally increasing his tempo and slam-fucking the bouncing Latina so hard that Martina’s lower-body was growing numb.
Yet despite her singular experience of pain, Barzola couldn’t help but register the youthful Kthid’s lecherous exhilaration. He fucked her as if having awaited this moment for a generation. The gleaming, Satanic eyes were utterly engrossed. Her pain was his ecstasy. Ramming her sex like it was simultaneously the greatest achievement of his life and a sewer to piss in, he crammed every inch of his oversized rapemeat into her as though he was finally fulfilling his purpose in life.
“Were I of the Warrior caste, I would make a bitch like you my personal Heitera!” he bellowed, not even acknowledging the combustive state of her emotions. “But I suppose I will have to settle for being the first to seed your fine cunt, human chattel! Oh, you will bear me auspicious progeny… I can feel it from the depths of my balls to the head of my shaft deep inside you… Conquering your miserable species was a treasure straight from the Dark Star. All glory to Sarcand!”
Martina didn’t understand. That was the second time the beast had spoken of reproduction and for all her fear and pain and humiliation she didn’t think that was one of her concerns. At first, the notion had seemed so outlandish and surprising that its implication completely passed Barzola by… but he seemed to really believe his alien seed could pollinate her. Her pain-glazed eyes grew wide with intense alarm, a form of nonverbal communication that went right past racial and cultural barriers, and the young Kthid’s chest inflated with militaristic triumph at the sight. Though they had only first seen one another less than five minutes ago, her pain and terror fueled him to towering heights. Seeing the fear in a freshly-captured female’s eyes over her coming impregnation was perhaps the height of Kthid pleasure, and it encouraged him onward. Filled with the desire to see this inferior specimen’s life-giving womb spermed and conquered, the casteless alien pounded his big green dick in with such force that it made even his own strong muscles burn with effort. Soon their intercourse was many times more brutal and intense than even the two-rows down the line orgy that Martina had previously beheld, and as his cock swelled and exploded inside her for the first time of many today, Martina couldn’t understand how her voyage had gone so wrong, but she did understand that her awakening had become the most traumatic thing that she could ever have imagined.
Through eyes half closed and filled with sorrow, Amara Black gazed upwards across the many interlining pods at the rough coupling being enforced on the Lieutenant Governor. Martina was one of the few colonists that she knew by name, having met her and the other Governors before they had been frozen. She, like pretty much everyone else, had not found the official to be pleasant company… but that didn’t lessen even slightly the heartache she felt watching the woman be raped. The thrusts of the Kthid monster taking her were becoming especially fanatic, Barzola’s whole body convulsing over and over again so that her black mane swung around with every stroke of his body. The Casteless Kthid was going to cum inside her and undoubtedly fertilize her eggs… but Martina’s tragedy was just one among a thousand that she would be forced to witness in person.
Needing to watch was the consequence of what she had done.
Sarcand pulled on the chain attached to the band around her neck, causing her to abruptly choke and her backside to smash against his leg. The Captain knelt with both legs doubled under her, naked save for a slave-collar that adorned her throat. They were located in the very middle of the large, arena-shaped chamber from where they had a good view of everything. Here there was a raised platform that normally housed the computer equipment that governed the hibernation-pods. However, now that they had unlocked the processes and slaved them to their own systems, the redundant computer systems had been removed in favor of constructing a dais for Sarcand’s glory. The Huntmaster was seated upon a throne constructed just for his use, sitting with glee and overlooking the horrific spectacle.
As his newly-enshrined slave and latest conquest, Amara was there to observe his victory. The sight of her statuesque naked body and crestfallen visage, the Captain of their doomed voyage reduced to a mere ornament, spoke higher of his triumph to any who looked on him than any words ever could. This was Sarcand’s hour… a moment of absolute supremacy for the Kthid. The Midgar-6 was vanquished and all of its passengers were now his.
“Watch… everything,” the Warlord commanded her, his voice a sort of hiss-like whisper. Though surrounded by a cacophony produced by thousands of individual rapes, their nearness was enough for him to speak with uncharacteristic quiet that merely concealed a more personal, directed sadism. “This is the result of your failure… This is where your human weakness led you. You fought admirably for a member of your frail race, but your struggles were for nothing… under the Dark Sun’s grace the Kthid proved superior to your paltry people. You will watch, or I’ll have the skin flayed from your back until you learn your place.”
Amara, however, needed no motivation to observe the fruits of her downfall. The Captain scanned the rows upon rows upon rows of colonists, invariably happening upon identical scenes no matter what direction her head turned. Every single sight she committed to memory… burning them into her mind. The colonists — the very people she had been oath-bound to protect — where now outlets of Kthid sexual barbarism. More and more were thawed, awakening into a cryosleep-induced confusion only to be thrust headlong into a world of darkness and pain and endless misery. Their rapes were a direct result of her defeat… of her failure. Now that she had surrendered the final password, the Kthid had access to every last one of them.
Returning her gaze to Martina, she found the woman’s abuser roaring in pleasure. It was evident from the jerky flexing of his mighty arms that he had reached his sexual peak. The Lieutenant Governor’s own expression was positively moribund, clearly deriving not the slightest pleasure from the forced mating. Were it not for her wide eyes as hard-earned alien cum sprayed into her sex, Amara would have thought she looked ready to pass out at any second. Another foul, unholy motherhood assured by their alien conquest… another rape to further the spread of the Kthid species.
Unwillingly, Amara hand moved to touch her own belly… holding it as if trying to feel something inside. It was the first thing he had done after she had yielded her code… filled her womb even as the aliens did now to her charges. Was something growing there even now? The question seemed to have only one answer, but Amara could not bear to confront it at the moment. Memories played inside her mind of the way Sarcand had broken her, how his searing hot jizz had felt as it splashed inside her broken sex, how he had claimed her as his woman in the most base, brutal manner possible. It had been nightmarish… the size of his dick, the ferocity with which he pummeled, the threat of being made to harbor another of his sons to be raised to rape and ruin and conquer just as its father had.
It was too much. Holding back tears and trying to remain stoic, Amara thought of Ri’she’a instead… tried to remember what it had felt like to be loved. She wished she could kiss the woman one more time.
Amara heard colonists shouting her name, human and Sethis both… begging for help. Some of those in the lowermost rows had recognized her, one of those close enough to distinguish their Captain. The colonists knew that it was supposed to be her that could protect them, that if they beseeched her for aid she would be the one to protect them. Although they called her name with all the horrified desperation of terrified children, she could not respond… there was nothing she could do for them any longer. The pain of her inability to help dug into her very soul, and in shame she grimaced and looked away, denying them sought-after aid. The fact that she was in no condition to do anything for them didn’t lessen her guilt and horror at all – her heart cried out to every single woman being thus befouled, and all of this was her fault – but she didn’t respond.
Sarcand had declared the entire vessel a temple of breeding. Any Kthid who happened upon an human not wearing a caste-member’s collar could breed her. It was the rule of first come first serve, a complete mayhem of opportunity. The only goal he had was that by the end, every human womb was to be filled with a Kthid offspring. With the men’s pods already having been destroyed and their occupants killed without having even been awakened, there were only females for the Kthid to hunt. The privilege extended to even the casteless as well… the lowest-rung of Kthid society rarely got an opportunity to pass on their genes, with all fertile mates being reserved for the actual castes. As such, their fervor was extreme even by Kthid standards. Women would emerge screaming from their pods surrounded by casteless Kthid who couldn’t wait to ram their dicks into them. Only the capture of such a large bounty could enable such a feast. For the heinous race of sexual conquerors, the Midgar-6 was a treasure trove containing the galaxy’s most important resource – fertile mates. Violence was the only way in which they knew to build their bloodlines, so they took every human they encountered with maximum brutality.
“Someday soon, this is what you will see on your Earth,” Sarcand spoke with baleful premonitions, as if he were already counting down the days. “It was already decided from the moment we became aware of your pathetic Federation, but with a treasure trove of feminine flesh such as this, the Sunbreakers will be able to deny me a place among their ranks no longer and I will lead a fleet to your worlds myself… my personal conquest.” He chuckled, a baleful cackling. “We’ve done it more times that you can count, you know. Whole planets. Whole empires. Your pretty blue world will survive no better than they did. Soon, Earth and your Midgar-6 will share one fate.”
Amara knew all too well that what he said was true. Humanity could not stop these things. They were too advanced and if they fell upon the Terran Federation without warning it would not be a fight but a massacre. When these infernal monsters reached the world she had been born on, even this great crime against nature unfolding before her would be minuscule in comparison. It was something she had been haunted by ever since she had fought her sister, since she had escaped on the Mistrunner, and now it was laid indelibly before her… but she had already known. Those grim facts had guided her every desperate action, her horrified flight… the fate of her crew.
As soon as Sarcand returned to his people, they would have to give him the fleet… and he would lead it from their worlds to hers.
Amara squeezed her eyes shut as tears leaked down her face, but she said nothing.
Bare soles pounded against the walkway as three women panted and wheezed and sprinted through Migdar-6’s corridors, away from the orgy they had just barely escaped. Hearts racing, swear pouring down their foreheads, the three sisters fled together, desperate to get away. Their entire family had been on this voyage… mother, father, and their fruitful line of nine sisters. Jane, Eva, and Huda didn’t know what had happened to the others… they only knew that they had to run.
Having been part of a mass-awakening by the Kthid, a spectacle where an entire level of women was released from their artificial slumber in one go, the trio had been the lone girls fortunate enough to slip through the chaos of the commotion. Rapes raging all around them, they ran, holding onto each other’s hands as they sprinted through the vessel’s interiors as quickly as their stasis-weakened bodies could, trying to find someone to give them aid, shelter, or at least guidance as to what was happening. They were all scared, frightened and desperately confused. The sight of those reptilian monstrosities awaiting and attacking them upon coming out of cryo-sleep had sunk terror into their very bones.
Suddenly, as they rounded a sharp turn, the ship’s roof-mounted holographic devices activated and beamed violescent rays towards the ground. The light coalesced into the figure of the ships AI. The three sisters stopped running before it with such a whiplash that they almost tumbled over. Surprised, their faces lit up, seeing how they had been blessed with a stroke of true luck… here was the one individual whom they could turn to in their hour of darkest need. “Oh thank the stars, we’re saved!” the youngest, Eva, exclaimed.
“Hurry! Enemies have taken the ship!” Atalanta’s projection said while pointing towards the hallway to their left. “There is no time to explain. This way, quickly!”
Like children singleminded in obeying their designated authority-figure, they eagerly rushed the way the Exalted said. Her image materialized as the next intersection, guiding them through turn after turn as they left the stasis area behind and vanished into the cargo section of the ship. “Get in there, right away!” the blue-haired woman said, pointing at a set of doors. Eager for safety, the three sisters sprinted for the designated portal even as Atalanta vanished. The double doors mechanically parted for the running sisters before quickly slamming behind them. All three sisters’ eyes widened with shock as it looked like they had been dealt their death-blows. Atalanta the Exalted hadn’t spirited them into some area of safety… she had delivered them into hell itself.
“The last three are here, Masters,” Atalanta’s voice said… and her voice shook a little. “Did… did I do well?”
Their mother and sisters sprawled around the room, and everywhere the three girls looked they could see nothing but horrifying vignettes of Kthid-on-human violation… nothing but a minuscule version of what was happening in the main chamber just for their family! Some of the behemoths took their victims in the missionary position, cleaving right through their womanhood with tremendous powers, while others made weeping human women straddle their crotches and then bounced the colonists upon their erections as if they were feather-light. Pussy, ass and mouth, the women were put thoroughly to use… those with free mouths making horrible, pained cries of anguish while those having their throats plugged groaned crassly with low, strangled choking sounds.
But even more shocking than this…. was the women who seemingly assisted the Kthid in their rape. They were all identical in appearance, and the blue locks cascading down her head made their identity unmistakable. More than a dozen bodies of Atalanta the Exalted, heroine of the federation… something brought physically to life like an army of clones. The trio couldn’t believe their eyes, frozen in sudden, disbelieving horror as three of those tall duplicates grabbed them from behind, quickly arresting the newcomers and carrying them off kicking and screaming to join the fray.
“Why!” Jane shouted as the treacherous AI carried her towards one of the walls. “Why are you doing this?”
“When the masters learned of nearly a dozen women of the same family, they were excited,” Atalanta explained as she continued carrying her. “Your line is obviously fertile… they value that. I believe there is a wager which group will be first to knock up one of your family.”
Jane screamed as she was chained to one of the room’s walls, her fists manacled together so that her backside was exposed. Equipping herself with a long-thonged whip, Atalanta started buffeting her rear with savage strokes, just the way the Kthid commanded her. The woman’s ass, calves, back, and shoulder-blades were mercilessly lashed, leaving crimson-red welts behind as all around her the Kthid monsters ferociously screwed her family.
“Scream for them, girl!” Atalanta cursed. “Don’t make me hit you harder.”
“EYYIIAAAHHH!” Jane wailed, feeling as if her flesh was mutilated whenever that cruel instrument dug in.
“Louder!” Atalanta said, a note of terror in her voice beneath the anger. “You have to scream louder!” All around her, barbaric aliens beheld the spectacle as if it was the greatest entertainment, something to laugh at in-between ejaculations before starting to thrust again into whichever of her sisters they were currently raping. The tenor of her pain piqued their interest, a curiosity worth beholding, but not enough to capture their attention for long… so little did they care about the woman’s life or well-being. Her vocal-cord was like an organ, struck so to create music for their festival of celebration.
“Atalanta! Why are you doing thi-GYYIIAAAHH!” Jane tried to protest.
“Shut up!” Atalanta said, darting a glance around at the Kthid who were currently watching with curiosity. “No backtalk, girl! If you have breath to talk, you have breath to scream… and all they want out of your mouth is your sweet sounds of pain.” Atalanta swung her flogger again like it was a hammer, seeking to drive her into the wall like a nail with each stroke.
“Louder!” one Kthid demanded.
The former protector of humanity obeyed, whipping Jane so brutally that her entire world became blisters of intense agony. There was no sympathy. No reasoning as to why this happened. Just a mad-eyed Atalanta with no mercy and little inclination to explain herself, swinging that arm as hard as she could possibly manage.
Meanwhile, Huda — a dark-haired beauty — received a much more personal dismantling. The Atalanta clone that had restrained her was already armed with a strap-on dildo as she had grabbed her, and the presence of oily cunt-juices glistening on its shaft confirmed that this would not the first time she had used it. A master in close-quarter combat in life, Atalanta had no issue tripping the colonist to the floor and keeping her pinned. Holding Huda in a hammerlock, Atalanta used her free arm to guide that artificial phallus towards the victim’s backdoor.
“No please don’t! Atalanta, you’re one of us, why would you—?” she managed to beg before being summarily anally impaled. The girl shrieked and her legs went up so to kick Atalanta’s backside as the Exalted one began oscillating her hips so to drive that manhood in. Previously an anal virgin, Huda now had a thick, cruel dildo driving its way through her asshole and deep into her guts with remorseless ferocity. Atalanta rode her posterior as if wanting to see that crap-chute destroyed, savagely battering it. Whenever Huda attempted even the feeblest attempt to scramble up onto her feet, Atalanta would crank on her hammerlock so that it felt like the girl’s shoulders were about to be dislocated. “Aaaaooohiii!” she squealed as she writhed on the ground beneath Atalanta.
“Just wait until the Kthid fuck you,” the AI spoke, her words harsh and filled with self loathing. “Then you’ll truly feel a woman’s pain, and you’ll be grateful I bothered to break you in first.”
Pressed down savagely onto the floor, a wide-eyed Huda was forced to watch as their heroine helped violate the rest of her family in a similar manner. There seemed to be no distinction between Atalanta and the alien hostiles in how savagely they pummeled their captives. Sometimes, Huda would see two Atalanta clones double-penetrating a human, taking them anally and vaginally or spit-roasting them so that their mouths and twats were impaled at once. Other times, an Atalanta duplicate would even join a Kthid in violating a victim. Their scenes varied between the artificial woman sucking on their balls as they reamed the colonists with their gigantic dicks or them working in tandem to penetrate a girl. In every instance, the Exalted One would throw herself headlong into the action, heeding her Masters’ instructions without even a second’s forethought… and whenever her copies were not engaged in actively raping one of them, they were on their knees sucking on Kthid cock, working to get them hard again to continue. The betrayal of one they had idolized was almost as devastating as the sexual assault itself.
One Kthid, cackling with euphoria, stepped over to where Atalanta was rectally drilling Huda, his cock very much salient. Squatting down, he mounted Atalanta’s posterior, inserting his giant cock into the Exalted’s tight asshole. Though she grunted in distress, the blue-haired copy never stopped raping Huda, gritting her teeth and taking it until he was all the way in and they formed a chain of penetration with Atalanta sandwiched in the middle.
Soon, Huda found out that the fallen heroine’s thrusts were nothing in comparison to the vicious, slamming fuckstrokes of a Kthid warrior. His vigorous thrusts smashed his hips into Atalanta’s ass like a punt, causing the Exalted to penetrate Huda deeper and harder than she ever had before in time with her own violation. Atalanta’s artificial phallus skewered the innermost secret depths of her bowels, parts of her that were never meant to be touched, and it rammed at them again and again and again until the dark-haired beauty was absolutely flattened against the floor as he fucked them both at once. With only Atalanta’s body to dilute his savagery, he raped her ass by proxy. It would have been bad enough with just that, but it was worse… with every brutal impact into Atalanta’s rear, the woman jerked forward and involuntarily cranked on the hammerlock. Huda felt as if her arm was going to be torn off by its root soon. It was terrifying, and their inhuman violators showed not the slightest inclination to slow down.
The final part of the trio, Eva, was wrestled into her designated position easier than even Huda and Jane. Being too scared to even resist Exalted, she was slammed onto the deck and quickly mounted by Atalanta. Not having a cock of her own, instead of savage rape or a merciless lashing the broken AI instead sank down onto her. Trembling with pure fright and sheltering her bosom with both forearms, Eva shuddered as Atalanta kissed and stroked over her body as if trying to turn her on.
“This one is smart,” Atalanta cursed softly. “You know better than to resist…” The woman’s groping fingers traveled lower, playing over her body as they sank down and down and down. After sampling the woman’s breasts, stomach, sides, and thighs, the Exalted snaked her hands into the delta of her femininity. Nudging against her soft, velvety furrow, they slid inside… and stopped and retracted as they encountered a surprising obstacle. “Ohh. Now I see why you shake so. You’re a virgin,” Atalanta said, her voice like a speartip against Eva.
The youthful colonist, the youngest of the family, shook as her fear overmastered her entire existence. She shuddered so hard that she was practically vibrating. Smirking, Atalanta brought her head low, sliding between her legs so that she could start licking at the woman’s untouched cunt. Soon, unwanted sexual pleasure and need began to mix incongruously with the adrenaline-pumping terror that consumed her, the innocent young thing too inexperienced to resist. The presence of Atalanta’s very experienced lapping tongue and sucking lips upon her pert erogenous zone was too much for Eva and she began to fitfully convulse.
“Ah-ahg,” the innocent girl yelped, mortally ashamed at her own reaction. “Please… don’t…”
A great shadow fell over Eva’s supine body. She looked up, terror filling her eyes as a humongous Kthid grinned down at her, his cock salient and throbbing. She felt chilled merely existing underneath its stature. “Maintain the cherry,” he ominously commanded. “But make her wetter than one of Earth’s oceans.”
“Yes, Master,” Atalanta responded, her chin already drenched in virgin juices as she threw herself even more fully into her work.
Eva’s eyes bulged as she realized that she was going to lose her virginity to one of these inhuman monstrosities. She made no effort to be stoic or hide her dismay. A peeping lamentation escaped from her lips with great sorrow, as pitiful a sound as could be made. It dissuaded the fallen heroine not a bit. Printed-out clones of her were participating in dozens and dozens of different rapes across the ship, all controlled via her single mind. She saw lives ruined by the thousands and none of it galvanized the broken, hopeless woman to make an attempt to save even one. This scared-out-of-her-wits virgin was just one more of many.
Just as much as Amara, Atalanta had been the hope of everyone on board the Midgar-6. The shining beacon that they could look to for an example of mankind’s excellence. Now her very psychology had been broken and remodeled to meet the desires of their Kthid conquerors, and she seemed so far gone that she couldn’t even question the immorality of it anymore. No one saw her screaming on the inside as she was forced to employ every bit of her genius and skill just to keep her Masters happy enough so that they didn’t turn their wrath towards her.
The virgin she was licking pissed herself in fear. Hot urine splashed against Atalanta’s mouth. Undaunted, she kept on licking. She was going to draw a pre-coital orgasm out of this virgin no matter what, and maybe if she did so well, when her Master raped her he wouldn’t find a way to make this body of Atalanta’s suffer at the same time… and maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t hurt Eva quite as badly as it would otherwise.
Those were the highest ambitions she had left.
Anna Constantos was awash in a sea of bodies, her face a mask of pain. The Medical Officer’s Kthid owner Charnametros had brought her into the orgy, of course. Collared and chained, she was his exclusively… here just to be used by the young warrior and showed off. The tiny, microscopic mercy of exclusivity was extended to exactly none of the freshly-awakened colonists.
The crestfallen woman lay prone and helpless with her legs spread, Charnametros humping into her with such strength that even her smaller, pert breasts wobbled violently on her chest. Besides her, the Lieutenant Governor Martina Barzola was being penetrated from either ends so that thick Kthid dicks rammed into both her vagina and mouth, seeming hard and deep enough it looked like they were trying to meet in the middle. By now, the awakening protocol had proceeded so far that if one gazed across the arena-like room one saw more biological bodies in violent rut than one did metal. From far away, they all undulated like a tumultuous sea, and close-by all that could be distinguished was sexual carnage. The multitude of voices created an ear-piercing din, a musical chorus of screams punctuated by the percussion of pounding and the wet sounds of bodies colliding.
Anna had failed all of them.
First, she had put her faith in Atalanta being unbreakable. Then, when the Exalted had fallen, she herself had, in the end, surrendered her password as well and held onto the desperate hope that Amara would be strong enough to hold back the Kthid. With that last hope proved futile, she felt destroyed. Everything that Miranda had predicted, everything she had warned of, had come to pass… every one of the colonists was going to be raped and made to undergo obscene motherhood. All of her hopes for the future had been for naught.
Even now, with Charnametros pummeling her pussy, her most grievous sorrow came from the accusative stares from the other Colonists. Anna’s face was known and memorized by them all. She had been the last face many of them had seen as they drifted off to sleep. Each of them knew that she was the one oathbound to see to their physical safety. Their eyes seemed to scream at her “Why!? Why!? Why?” but she could not answer. Most of them were so enraptured in the agony of their own personal befoulment that they could only gaze towards her while grimacing with pain, looking for answers. Anna felt like a mother who couldn’t protect her children. All of her worst nightmares had come to be.
There seemed to be a story to every rape, and each one was more horrific than the last. Gazing up at one level two rows above them, Anna recognized a lesbian couple that had taken fertility pills before they were frozen into their year-long slumber. The idea was that with Anna’s help they would both be artificially inseminated once awakening on their new homeworld so that they could start a family together. Now, both women were slam-fucked side-by-side, drilled into from behind by chiseled Kthid soldiers. The dragonic monsters were twins, she could see… identical in every way she could discern, and the pair had already collared the pair of women, the strange scanners they carried somehow able to tell that both women were especially fertile. Instead of being joined in a union of love, however, all they would share was the trauma of carrying Kthid children as the two lovers were forced to serve their twin masters for rest of their lives. Nearby, even more dismally, a raped Sethis woman kept screaming for her husband… begging him for help, clearly unaware that if he was among the colonists he’d already been dead for days by the time she woke up.
Elsewhere, even more horrific things happened. Cryosleep sometimes came with a number of possible side-effects, most commonly temporary amnesia. This condition beset an unfortunate few of the colonists currently participating in Sarcand’s all-out orgy… far more of them than would have had Anna thawed them out as gently as she wanted to. The Kthid, however, seemed much less concerned. The women emerged from their metal wombs as blank-headed as newborn babies, with no memory or experience to guide them or contextualize what they were seeing. These were easily distinguishable by their look of absolute puzzlement instead of wide-eyed fear as they took on the rapes around them with horrible, blank innocence.
Once, Anna saw one such woman ambling aimlessly through the sexual anarchy all around her, unable to tell what she should make of the bellowing females and hard-fucking males. Even the instinct-bound expressions of lasciviousness or pain weren’t understandable to them. They had no idea about the sheer transcendent wrongness that they were beholding, that they had awakened to the procreative genocide of an entire expedition. Without exception though, their fates would be the same as the rest, taken by one of the snout-faced Kthid and summarily defiled… feeling pain for what to them seemed like the first time in their life.
Eventually, their memories would come back, the connections in their brain reforming… and they would become themselves just in time to live the rest of their lives as slaves.
Other sufferers of cryosleep’s nebulous downsides faced their own tribulations though. Another common affliction was partial physical paralysis. These women awoke to this inferno of debauchery without complete control of their bodies. Like minds trapped within dolls, they could not even fight back against the Kthid as they moved to have them fucked. What little mastery they held over the muscles of their faces were put to work emoting bare-bones expression of agony. This segment of the colonists was made sport out of by the Kthid. The reptilian monsters would fling them up and down the rows as if playing some slanted version of a sport. The human participants invariably screamed, yet were unable to fling their limbs around as it happened. One time, a horrified Anna watched as a Kthid misjudged a throw and tossed one of the woman over the edge of the layer she was on, sending her screaming down to the bottom levels. She couldn’t see what happened to her, if she had smashed her skull or been caught, but Anna wondered whether dying here and now might make her count as one of the lucky ones among the million colonists.
Beside her, one of the partially paralyzed victims went crawling by. This woman had merely lost control of her legs yet retained all other faculties. Dragging herself across the floor using only her arms, she was stalked by a slow-moving Kthid pursuer. The colonist’s expression informed Constantos that she was so thoughtlessly alarmed that she had no awareness of the fact that her escape-plan was doomed for failure, and the Kthid in question was just doing this to enjoy her mounting terror.
One sight in particular Anna would never forget until the day she died. During the awakening-process, a single pod had malfunctioned. During the years-long voyage, its opening-mechanism had somehow jammed. Its occupant was thus resuscitated, but she couldn’t get free from her tank as it became her cell. Her youthful-looking face was flattened against the pod’s diminutive porthole, gazing out at the orgy outside wide-eyed, unable to comprehend if what she saw was actually happening or not. It was the height of terror mixed with an extreme disbelief that this was actually reality. Yet she could not stop watching, seeing women she knew getting reamed by big green dicks with a ferocity that was absolutely inhumane. Anna thought that the young girl’s mind was set on the assumption that this was not reality, that she was trapped in some kind of horrific nightmare. Her blissful ignorance would not last for long though. Enraged Kthid used their brutish melee-weapons to try and pop the jammed door open. Eventually, they would succeed.
But Anna Constantos wouldn’t see it… she had her own personal hell to go through. Her body spasmed involuntarily with every cock hammering plunge Charnametros sent through her stuffed quim. The young warrior was groaning again, as if about to orgasm. He had already fucked her a hundred times, each one just as painful as the first. He had already climaxed inside her enough times that Anna knew her fate was sealed. She would have a child with this monster, and be forced to raise his young, then she would do it again, and again, and again. This was what her existence would amount to. All her skill and education and hopes and dreams and emotion… all of it useless to her coming role as the incubator of her rapist’s children.
But then, in this respect, Anna Constantos was just one among many. Her immense tragedy, like most of them, was lost amid the sea of torment that had engulfed the Midgar-6.
Martina barreled forward, colliding with a whole host of rutting bodies and ricocheting off their tough scaly bulk. She had not seen what or who shoved her, but it was enough to send her flying and crashing down onto the ground. Before the Hispanic woman even had the chance to rise onto all fours, an elbow crashed into the back off her head and almost knocked her out, scrambling her thoughts.
The hit was completely accidental… the woman who hit her didn’t even realize she had hit something as she thrashed in pain. Just one more strike brought on by the blind chaos of orgasmic mania. It almost killed her anyway. Dazed, she lay face-down in a puddle of Kthid seed that was so gelatinous that it held the consistency of mud. Already breathless and exhausted, Barzola almost drowned in that shallow pool as the weak, tired woman struggled to disinter her skull from out of that pool of foul jizz. The same vile matter also clogged up her throat, leftovers from the deep-throating she had just undergone, so the moment she managed to exhume herself the Lieutenant Governor began to cough, spitting up a whole slew of porridge-thick spunk in a sickeningly undignified manner and adding it to the pile beneath her. Doing something to disgusting while fearing for her life was a trauma that burnt at her psyche.
Even as she had almost died, the great orgy continued all about her. Its cacophony produced the most overwhelming of sounds, a din that never abated. The whole chamber was jam-packed like during a concert; hence the frequent bumps from blind angles. These aliens held no regard for their safety… Her body was liberally decorated with aching bruises and blazing scrapes against armor plating and rough decking. She could have just died, and probably no one would have even noticed.
Martina was used to being important… but here she was just a particularly lovely piece of fuckmeat, maybe worth slightly more than any other but not enough that anyone would regret her loss. She could drown and no one would care.
Wherever her eyes roamed, she spotted Kthid violating their victims. They were uniformly frenzied and single-minded in seeing them befouled, a race of demons. The way they all towered over the humans was especially discouraging. Yet somehow, every time she saw this vista, it was like a fresh look, sinking her heart further down into her ribcage.
“This one’s unoccupied!” one of their deep, bellowing voices called.
Martina was overwhelmed by terror, filled with insentient fright at the realization that he was referring to her. She instinctively attempted to crawl away on all fours. She had just survived a horrendous blowjob that almost killed her, choking her to death on his thick cock until her lungs collapsed. Said Kthid was probably the one who had shoved her in the first place. She couldn’t survive another, surely… but after hours and hours and hours of this, she was as weak as a mewling newborn kitten. Before she could make it even the length of a meter, a burly hand clasped around her ankle and pulled the black-haired woman back. Fear-faced, she began to wonder if she should have let herself drown after all.
“This one has the curviest butt I’ve ever seen!” the same voice declared, grasping her hips sturdily. “I’m taking this ass!”
Barzola squealed like a stuck pig. Her anus attempted to clutch in fright, but that poor sphincter was now so ravaged from dozens and dozens of abuses that it seemed to have lost the ability to fully contract. Her perfect body, her prized appearance, had now become her greatest doom… many Kthid had spotted the exact same comeliness of the woman that inspired this rapist and chose her over another.
Fighting the mighty saurians was impossible. She felt the now familiar sensation of a bulbous thickness lining up with her sore hole. The first time it had happened, Martina had been in complete disbelief. Something that broad could never fit inside. Even now it seemed simply too big to plunge in. Unfortunately for her, the Kthid handled this disparity in size as if it meant nothing at all. Thrusting, the space dragon hilted her in one go.
“Hiiiaaaahhhh!!!” she screamed, the outcry quickly abating in strength as her vocal-cords did not possess the stamina to vocalize the sheer amount of pain she felt anymore. Once again, one of those caiman aliens was pummeling her rear. Martina’s body shook about like a ragdoll, whiplashes from the impacts threatening to snap her neck as her plump boobs began to jiggle, slapping together as they went haywire from the inhuman force of their pumps. With every pounding movement, the reptilian behemoth sent that thick vastness streaking farther into her asshole than she’d ever thought possible. Its well-punished walls stung incredibly at feeling another intrusion. The sensation was like being hollowed-out, mined to assume another dimension beyond what nature had ever considered.
“Ugh! With a well-stacked slave as this, ass-fucking is always the most pleasurable prize!” the Kthid vulgarly hollered, utterly unsympathetic to the woe she was experiencing. “She’s no doubt already impregnated by now, anyway.”
That, unfortunately, was almost certainly true. The Kthid that had awakened Martina Barzola from her pod had only been the first. She had been passed around, exchanged from Kthid to Kthid so that they could satiate their beastly desires with her body. Everyone sought to penetrate either her pussy, asshole or mouth, invariably pounding that orifice with incredible strength and viciousness until they orgasmed. How many had done so now, she had no idea. The experience had numbed her to everything save the agony of feeling those titanic cocks drive in-and-out of her holes. One became interchangeable from the last. Bloated manhoods impaling her holes.
The Lieutenant Governor was by now so fatigued and dehydrated that the woman couldn’t even sweat anymore, brutally hot in the massive orgy surrounding her. The heat didn’t seem to bother the Kthid in the slightest, but her throat was absolutely parched and felt like a desert. Despite this, another one of those scale-hued savages placed himself before her, his cock already hard and ready. Powered by instinctual maxims to preserve her own survival, the black-haired woman began shaking her head in a clear sign of the impossibility of what he asked… but he didn’t care. The behemoth simply clasped her head hard enough to force it steady, then pushed his cock’s tip against her cracked lips and began to push. Soon, yet another alien dick was inside her, the two monsters reaming her from both the front and the rear, being deep-throated as she was getting sodomized.
Humanity or a sense of self was difficult to cling to during such abhorrent suffering… she felt like an object more than a person. Even her name felt hard to hold onto. Would a person feel dicks traveling so far and so hard into her gullet and rectum that they would lacerate her and make her bleed? Not even a cheap whore would allow that… whatever the Latina was, she was below that now. Barzola’s body was more a passageway for cock than it was a living, breathing, feeling entity. These extraterrestrial brutes had depersonalized her so thoroughly that she could not even discern her own identity anymore amid the never-ending gangrape.
This pair of rough-thrusting aliens began cumming… but their climax didn’t save Martina from being mentally broken. Her eyes were like windows cracked and broken from their frames, the ripples spreading in all directions like cobweb. She had been brought beyond the state of exhaustion, the mind made dormant within its very own vessel. Unthinking and barely alive yet wholly wallowing in pain, all she could feel beyond the agony was the sensation of viscous semen splurging into her bowels and stomach.
Though she was the center of her very own universe, the very same scenes and emotions were playing out with every colonist around her. They were raped and defiled past the point of what anyone had ever thought manageable for a member of their species. As such, their consciousness started to bleed together, becoming one mass of desecrated femininity. None of them knew why this was happening to them. Nor whom these muscular behemoths where or what they wanted other than to hurt and ravish and destroy.
Thoughtlessly insane as the Kthid pulled out from her, snow-white jizz deluged out from Martina’s anus and mouth. This paroxysm on their part failed her to grant any reprieve. In the sexual melee, her malefactors quickly moved on to another nearby woman, while other devils descended on her. All the Lieutenant Governor could focus on was how much certain parts of her body stung. She should have been the leader of a new world, been blessed with a grand destiny, but that was not to be. The Kthid had ended the Midgar-6… and her with it.
Martina didn’t know it, but the gangrape had already been going on for two days… and though she was already nearly braindead with agony, the brutal festival of the breeding of the Midgar-6 would continue for two more.
Amara was in the eye of the storm. By now, the festivities had become so rambunctious that the lowermost level looked like a moshpit of thudding bodies… the casteless were so tightly packed that a pair could not fuck without bumping into somebody else, even though many Kthid resolved to do so standing. It was an ocean of rapacious individuals and their victims, each mating like a wild beast in a frenzy.
Sarcand’s platform jutted above this maelstrom. Their feet were leveled with the heads of the mob below as he sat there with his prizes. The Huntmaster had brought his most valuable possessions up onto that dais, as if getting ready to join the celebrations himself. Two of them she had seen, but she didn’t remember the names off… the blue skinned, aquatic beauty and the ethereal, insectile one that stood a head taller than her. Lastly, Miranda herself stood there among them. In her own way, she was the architect of this entire catastrophe. It was she who had revealed the Midgar-6’s route to the enemy and so assured the doom of them all. Beholding the face of her ravishing sister, Amara saw nothing but emotionless placidity on her face as she beheld the carnage her actions had wrought. She had been the prodigy of humankind, the one people thought would guide them into a new millennium of space-exploration. Now, by caving to the Kthid, her betrayal had ensured the capture of this ship and its precious cargo.
Not that Amara could throw many stones on the subject of betrayal.
Miranda knelt before Sarcand’s throne, submitting herself before his feet as demurely as ever. Her mannerisms instantly turned servile and fawning, leaning against his leg as if it was a column that she could rest against. Her sister’s green eyes scanned the orgy as if content with everything that she saw. Amara was chained by the opposite leg, just inches away from her big sister… and she said nothing.
“You have triumphed, Master,” Miranda said sweetly. “Blessed are you in the unlight of the Dark Star.”
The Warlord seemed uncharacteristically reticent. It was like he stayed silent so to enjoy the purity of the moment. This was all that he had been working for, seeing a hundred thousand human pussies in this chamber be opened up to Kthid cock. Soon their life-giving wombs would all be inseminated.
“My race is yours now,” she continued. “None of the other Warlords will be able to deny your greatness. Your name will be foremost among the sons of the Dark Star, and you will be given command of the Harvest Fleet to become one of the Sunbreakers, as you always wished. Even the casteless will love you… for when would they ever be given another opportunity to breed like this?” she continued in the same reverent tone, casually stroking his instep as she did so. The woman was telling him what he wanted to hear, fanning his desires and inflating his ego. One could almost think that she was trying to be intimate. It was weird to see Miranda this servile, when Amara had always known her to be a firestorm of independence and strength.
Amara’s gut clenched. She knew that Sarcand was merely keeping her away from the orgy so that she could linger on her failure. It was a subtle, rarefied torment. Soon, he would cast her into the fray. Amara would be lost among the multitude. The ravenous Kthid would break her psyche and desecrate her body. She had known that was coming from the moment the Kthid had found her on the Mistrunner… no, before then. From the moment she had realized there was no escape. Her future harbored nothing different than that of the colonists that she could not protect. She would be raped, impregnated, all agency taken from her, and then become just another face in the crowd, another sufferer to the Kthid sexual expansion. This would be her end. No woman who fell into the hands of the Kthid could seemingly avoid this.
None… except Miranda.
At least her sister would be safe.
“Think of the glory when you conquer Earth,” the redhaired Heroine whispered to the Huntmaster. “Then you will be praised eternally.”
The fallen Captain felt such fright that when she exhaled it was like her very life essence was blowing out of her nose. Amara was not her elder sister. She knew that. For much of her existence she had tried to be, to walk in her footsteps, to perform the heroic acts that she did. But when their willpowers clashed, Miranda always came up on top. That was just the way the universe made them. It how it had always been. It was where she was comfortable.
Sarcand rose from his throne. Amara almost cried. It was time for her to go now. To disappear into slavery and be swallowed up by the Kthid. A fitting price for her betrayal.
He stepped up to the edge of the platform, gazing down into the teeming sea of casteless being fecund beneath them. The smallest of smiles emerged on his lips. He turned towards Amara who knelt by either side of his throne. “You speak truly, Heitera. I will take great delight in the extinction of your species… as the Dark Star has birthed us to do. However, there is only room for one human in my innermost harem. One Heitera whom I bejewel,” the terrifying space-dragon said. He stepped forward toward her, and Amara closed her eyes. She knew that doom was coming, but she didn’t have to watch it come.
There was a clutching sound. A gasp. A short scream…
Speechless with shock, Amara gaped, both eyelids open wide. What she saw was Sarcand having clutched Miranda by the neck and lifted her off the ground, carrying the redhaired with ease towards that precipice, choking her in one powerful hand.
Miranda appeared just as shocked and surprised as she was. The woman kicked with her legs and fought his grip with both hands, her sparkling green eyes bulging and begging for an explanation. The alarm within them was absolutely bottomless. For once, Miranda’s implacable cool had failed her utterly. “…Why?” the woman managed to groan as Sarcand held her out over that sea of the casteless, the bottommost strata of Kthid society.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Sarcand growled. “I told you to bring back your sister when she escaped onto the space-hulk but you couldn’t. You… You failed me.” He shook his head. “Why should I tolerate such weakness? A Kthid warrior never forgives… nor does he show mercy. Did you forget that?”
Miranda opened her mouth to answer… and Sarcand dropped her. Miranda plummeted. A whole mass of Kthid casteless underneath jumped so to catch the discarded prey, the ocean of raping bodies swallowing the dark-skinned redhead whole. “I renounce her as Heitera,” Sarcand bellowed. “Have fun with her!”
Intense terror froze Amara Black’s soul as she saw her own sister disappear among the Kthid multitude. Within the span of a second, it was like she had been drawn underneath some impenetrable surface. As the most desirable human that their entire species knew of, everyone jostled to get to fuck her now that she was public property. Amara distinguished one shrill scream from the the woman she had spent her life living in the shadow of and then… she could hear nothing more of her over of the chorus of female screams and thudding bodies and growls and roars.
She couldn’t believe it. Miranda was gone.
In just the briefest second, she had been banished from Sarcand’s mercy. Her uncontested brilliance and genius didn’t offer her any second chances. Such was the brutality of the Kthid.
With a rumbling, pleased growl, Sarcand stepped up to Amara’s kneeling body, giving his jutting hard-on a few preparatory strokes.
“You are my Heitera now,” he said. “Let’s see if you can do any better than your sister.”
Still shocked to her bones, the Warlord aligned his cockhead with Amara’s mouth. The Captain could not spare herself a single moment to grieve, not one single moment to take in the loss of the most spectacular person she had ever known, no matter what ill-doings Miranda had done in her life. If she wanted to survive a Kthid enslavement, then she had to accomplish anything he requested of her, no matter what it was.
As the horrific din of the orgy blared all around them, as tears ran down her dark cheeks like a river, Amara wrapped her soft lips around her new Master’s enormous cockhead and began to suck.
Technical Entry – Names of Stars