Her hands seemed incapable of ceasing their exploration of her newly awakened body, and the sensation of even her fingers on her skin was enough to quicken her pulse and flush her cheeks as her breaths became shallow and swift. Tara had never been so aroused in her life, and even as she basked in the intensity of the lightning coursing through her body she grew alarmed at her unexplained predicament. The resistance fighter pushed through the haze of sensation and managed to heave herself off of the table, shakily standing on the awkwardly tall shoes and searching the room for a doorway. As if on cue there was a deep clicking sound and a series of tiles moved across the wall and formed a facsimile of a door, which then swept open to reveal an Izrid warrior.
Tara watched as the first warrior entered the room, followed by a second, and she knew in an instant these two had been the ones who had killed Cole and captured her. They were no longer wearing armor or carrying weapons, instead they were shirtless and wearing utilitarian kilts made of what looked to be some kind of silken material. The sight of them should have filled her with hatred and violence, yet she could not help but to quicken at the sight of their powerful physiques, and found herself wondering if they had members as equally stunning. Tara shook the thoughts from her mind and focused on the third Izrid that entered the room, this one wearing the same silken kilt, only he was smaller than the warriors. His eyes burned with an intensity and intellect that at once excited and repulsed her. The creature must have sense her reaction, for he smiled as he rubbed a stone on the bracelet hanging from his wrist, and the doorway behind him closed.
“You forgive, I hopes, if I command the language is awkward. Our us kind communicate in pure fashion, musk and mind, vocal chords to speak is unwieldy,” spoke the Izrid as he circled the table while the two warriors stood by the former doorway, “Comfortable in beautiful have become you in the now.”
Tara struggled to maintain her focus on the enemy as he moved around the other side of the table. She turned to continue facing him, doing her best to make out his words while trying not to get lost in the waves of his tight musculature or his piercing reptilian eyes. She felt drugged, and the scent of the three aliens in the room was driving her into a sexual craving she felt horrified to consider.
“What have you done to me?” she gasped as the moved around the table to avoid the Izrid as he came closer.
The Izrid reached into the front fold of his kilt and pulled forth what looked to Tara like an oversized tattoo needle-gun, “Human pheromones easy replicate, manufacture desire. Warriors witness your sex, see pleasure not breed. Curious.”
Tara stopped when he spoke, and nearly swooned as she started to piece it together. Her uncontrollable attraction to these three aliens could only be chemical, for how else would she find herself fantasizing about being taken by the very creatures that had invaded her homeworld, pushed her species to the brink of extinction, and killed her lover right before her eyes?
“Cava Rek will know you inside,” stated the Izrid with palpable lust in his voice, and he stepped towards Tara.
He would have this human, the magister thought to himself, he and his warriors would explore her to the fullest. It had only taken a few cycles to fabricate a reliable pheromone injection using samples collected from the human male and female, and it surprised the magister that the Izrid had not stumbled upon this knowledge before. It seemed that the conquerors were so focused on destroying the humans that they had overlooked the dormant potential in taking them captive. If this experiment yielded a sufficient degree of success, then not only could the magister’s pheromone research be employed in the pacification of the humans, but it could transform the species into something useful. The thoughts of sexual incentive for the warriors, conquest trophies for the magisters to flout upon their return to the homeworld, and even hybrid breeding programs caused Cava Rek’s member to throb with desire. His breeding glands awoke and began secreting the oils that would soon cover his skin, which served as both an aphrodisiac for the brood bearers and a lubricant or the act itself.
Tara could see the bulge growing under the kilt of the Izrid that called itself Cava Rek, and she could not help but to moisten at the sight of it. In the back of her mind she knew that she had been subjected to some kind of pheromone injection, and took a step back as the Izrid moved towards her. Tara took another step and backed into the broad chest of one of the warriors, its sizeable erection pushing up against the small of her back and sending her over the edge of desire. Two of the creature’s hands reached out and caressed her shoulders, running down her gently and then folding her arms together at the elbow. Another hand took hold of her waist and pushed her against the table while yet another gripped a large fistful of her hair and pulled her head back, forcing her back into a deep arch. The hand that was on her waist moved down to the hem of her dress and began pulling it up as the smell of the creature’s musk overwhelmed Tara’s senses. She gasped as the warrior slowly worked its tremendous cock into her pussy, the breeding oils of the Izrid combining with her own wetness to aide in its penetration. The creature began moving its girth in and out of her, each thrust making her feel as if her internal organs were being pushed around to make room for the mighty thing. Tara could not help but to cry out with a mixture of pleasure and shock as she was taken by the four-armed alien.
Tara could sense movement in the room, yet held as she was she could not move her head to see what was happening. Her years of combat had prepared her for the horrors of war, though as one cock filled her from behind she felt hands grip a fistful of her hair and begin to guide another into her mouth, she knew that this was going to be a different kind of battle. Cava Rek had climbed onto the table and stood in front of her, one hand in her hair and the other on his cock as he pushed the head of it into her mouth. The magister began slowly sliding himself in and out of her as he took a firm upside-down grasp of her throat, holding her head steady even as the rest of her body shuddered from the impact of being fucked by the warrior behind her. Tara’s mind was a tempest, part of her raging against the betrayal by her own body, the other craving the sensations that coursed through her. She struggled to breathe through her nose as best she could, because the alien fucking her mouth had clearly never engaged in oral sex before, as it had yet to give her a chance to take a breath. The alien relentlessly shoved its cock in and out of her mouth, the tip of it pushing down the back of her throat and threatening to gag her if it went any deeper. She was completely at the mercy of the two aliens, with her head and arms firmly under the power of the two creatures as they fucked her from both directions.
Cava Rek nearly reached orgasm after only a few time units of intercourse with the human female’s mouth, and not wanting the moment to pass, the magister recalled what the human male had done. The magister slid his cock from the female’s mouth and let go of her throat, taking his testicles in hand as the human gasped for air. Cava Rek marveled at the sight of his gonads settling into the female’s open mouth, and as her tongue rasped along the surface of them the magister could not help but think of the picture this presented. Here he stood, magister of Warhive Gyrax, his warriors taking pleasure from a human resistance fighter even as he forced her to suckle his testicles. This was conquest, he thought to himself, this was victory, and it was time to make it complete. Cava Rek sent mental commands to the two warriors and stepped back from the female as the warriors followed his orders.
Tara gasped again as the magister removed himself from her mouth, and nearly collapsed as the warrior behind her let go of her arms and hair while pulling out. In one moment she was bound by two partners and in the other she was free again. Cava Rek laid down on the table, his erection jutting upwards like a stone pillar, as the warrior who had been behind her stood just to the side of the table. The other warrior approached her, its thick member throbbing with desire as it effortlessly looped an arm around her waist and hoisted her onto the table, depositing her there on all fours on top of the magister, her high heeled shoes clicking
as they hit the table. Cava Rek took hold of her waist and guided her pussy onto his shaft. Tara moaned as she was awash in the pleasure of it, and as the other warrior climbed onto the table behind her she moved herself up and down. The strong arms of the warrior behind her suddenly gripped her waist while Cava Rek placed his hands on her thighs for leverage. The warrior behind her moved into position and the thick meat of its manhood slapped against the cheek of her exposed ass, and she knew what was coming. Her whimper of protest was muffled as the warrior standing next to the table turned her head to the side and stuffed its cock into her mouth, while Cava Rek began aggressively thrusting upwards into her.
The warrior stroked itself, the oil from its breeding glands providing ample lubricant for its veined girth. The warrior took hold of the human female’s waist and steadied her body, as it was bucking wildly from being simultaneously penetrated by the magister from below and the fellow warrior from above. The warrior began pushing its member into the female’s waste orifice, eliciting low moans from her as he continued to drive his shaft inside. The warrior moved itself in and out of the female’s body, its memory of seeing the human male have intercourse with her fresh and hot in its primal brain. It had desired this female, and for reasons it could not fathom the warrior took pleasure in penetrating this human in a non-breeding orifice. Somehow it felt counter-productive and somewhat of a violation, even as the human seemed to enjoy the wrongness of it. The warrior’s pace quickened, and within moments it was driving itself into her with all of the considerable force it could muster.
Tara struggled to remain conscious, the overpowering sensation of having three aliens fucking her was too much. It was difficult to turn her full attention to any one partner, as each one slammed into her with increasing force, sending shockwaves of both pain and pleasure through her petite frame. Impossibly she felt the tremors of orgasm being to build in all three of the aliens at the same time, as if they were somehow connected, and as if her body sought to defy her inner hatred it too began to quake with anticipation. Their pace reached a devastating intensity, and all at once the four of them came, human and alien orgasiming together. Tara felt the hot explosion of the warrior deep in her ass, sensed the spreading warmth of Cava Rek as he filled her womb with seed, and gagged as the warrior in her mouth spewed its load down her throat.
Cava Rek laid still for a moment, surprised at his own instinct towards tenderness as he stroked the hair of the human female who had collapsed on his chest. As commanded the warriors both stood near the doorway, silent in their submission to his will. The magister was confused by his reaction, and did not wish for his warriors to witness it. At his command the two warriors donned their kilts and exited the room, leaving Cava Rek alone with the human. He continued to stroke her hair, and ran his fingers across her skin as he listened to the sound of her breathing. He was curious about his reaction, as if having intercourse with this female had created a bond between them, a bond of the sort that the magister’s analytical mind struggled to comprehend. So engrossed was he in this new sensation that he did not notice the impending danger until it was too late.
The thick haze in Tara’s mind was clearing as the fire of sexual desire faded. She was still in the grip of the pheromone injections, of this she was sure, as she still found herself drawn into the arms of this alien invader. She put her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, her fingers tracing along his muscles as she breathed in his scent. Yet she had regained enough control of her mind that she was able to notice that Cava Rek was still in a haze of his own, perhaps not being used to such intense pleasure and release. The alien seemed not to notice that her other hand closed its grip around the handle of the needle-gun. Tara raised her head and looked into Cava Rek’s eyes, surprised for a moment by the tenderness she saw there, but only for a moment, as the tenderness reminded her of Cole. Suddenly the rage of his death, what had been done to her, and the invasion itself came flooding in to cut through the fog of the pheromones that still clouded her senses. In that moment she saw Cava Rek recognize the threat, and she screamed as she drove the needle-gun into his eye socket, pushing down until she was sure the tip had gone as far as it could. She squeezed the trigger and the gun emptied its liquid contents into Cava Rek’s brain as he twitched for a few seconds they lay still. Tara leapt from the table and kicked off the high heels. Her body ached from the ferocious sexual encounter, pulsed with adrenaline, and her mind focused on revenge.
ACT IV
Her fist closed around the handle of the M4 carbine, and the familiarity of the weapon filled her with a confidence that she had fought hard not to lose completely. She had endured the Izrid’s carnal appetites, she had played the part of willing sex trophy, and when they killed Cole in front of her there was almost no time for the tears she shed. These will be my tears, she thought fiercely as she slapped in a fresh magazine and racked the slide to chamber the first round. The resistance fighter knew that she had only moments before security patrols would find Cava Rek’s body, and once they did the magister’s access codes would no doubt be locked. She wasn’t sure how exactly the bracelet worked, though as long as she wore it no doorway had stood locked before her. She had been very lucky when she first emerged from the room in which she’d been held, in that something in the bracelet seemed to pick up on her desires, gently leading her by a sort of magnetism to the room the was seeking.
From the musky scent in the room she could tell that this had belonged to Cava Rek, and for a brief yet horrific moment Tara wondered if the alien seed had taken root inside her. Was this why she could use the bracelet? Why she recognized the alien’s room so instantly? The cramps that had been racking her womanhood couldn’t be some hybrid spawn growing within could it? Surely it was only the phantom sensations of the brutal encounter. She had done her best to banish such thoughts from her mind, and continued to allow the bracelet to do its work. A panel near the back of the room opened to reveal a small alcove filled with weaponry and ammunition, no doubt more trophies for the proud alien invader. The polished metal floor of the alcove was cold on her bare feet, even in the confined space of the resistance armory. The smell of metal and gun oil was sharp, only barely combated by the lingering fragrance of the oil and sex musk that clung to Tara’s flesh. She knew there was no time to swap out the cocktail dress for something more tactically sound, so she focused on weapons with straps or holsters that she could attach to her body.
After locating the M4 Tara then fastened a 45 caliber machine pistol to her right thigh, and then she strapped a magazine mount to her left and slid three of the twenty round mags into the slits. She found a powerful 30.06 rifle with a sling and threw that across her shoulders, cinching the strap tight against her shoulder so that the weapon would hang at her side for easy access. Both the rifle and the carbine had extra mag rails on the folding stocks, which she filled. After rifling through several assorted boxes to find it she bit off a length of the gun tape and lashed together two mags for the rifle and the carbine so that she could just turn them over quickly. Tara was not as heavily armed as she wanted to be, though for the brief minutes she’d had this was going to have to do. As she rushed from the room she saw a familiar case sitting on top of a crate of loose grenades, which she had ignored earlier given her clothing situation. She opened the case, gambling that the lost seconds were going to be worth it, and sucked in her breath as she saw what lied within. There were four devastator rounds resting in shock foam, their cold points smooth and deadly.
It was in that moment that Tara’s plans transformed from a suicidal shooting spree into something more damaging to the Izrid occupation. She gingerly picked up one of the devastators and held it up to the light, her plan taking shape and bringing a wicked smile to her face. Tara, fully aware that she was spending precious time, sat down and perched herself just at the edge of the grenade crate. With one hand she gently lifted her dress, her fingers running the delicate material up her smooth legs and holding it firm against her waist.
With the other Tara slid the devastator across her oiled skin, her memories of recent events washing over her mind as the round traced over her body. The cold metal warmed as her body temperature rose along with her self-induced desire, and the Izrid oils on her skin began to coat the round as she moved it over her arms, down her neck, across her back, and over her breasts. While coating the round she extended a finger from the hand holding her dress and began to massage her womanhood, her thoughts turning from the raw lust of the Izrid gang-bang towards her equally raw yet sensual encounters with Cole. The devastator was a huge bullet, meant for rail-guns and battle, and was not made for pleasure, though Tara knew that this was the only way to ensure delivery of the payload. The resistance fighter placed the rounded tip of the devastator in her mouth and added a layer of her saliva to the oil already coating the shell, and then she moved it downwards.
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