"The collar doesn't go with the dress," Morgan said as she placed a hand on her hip, "or is it supposed to be a reminder of my captivity? Seems a bit heavy handed don't you think?"
The warlord smiled wickedly as he held up his arm to display an ornate bracelet fastened to his arm and said, "It is a symbol yes, though ever so much more. Here, let me show you."
The warlord used his finger to depress a small button on his bracelet and Morgan felt a slight prick of a micro-needle in her neck. At first she felt nothing, and then the first waves of whatever the collar had injected into her began to take effect. She was suddenly flushed with heat, both that of body temperature and of desire. Her eyes widened and her breath turned to a gasp as the compounds from the collar began conquering her system. Within moments the vile alien who stood before her had ceased to be quite so repulsive, and suddenly Morgan became aware of how his muscular body filled out the shifty robe quite nicely. She found that the predatory look in his reptilian face did not threaten her so much as excite her, and the urge to walk towards him became overwhelming. The resistance fighter struggled to maintain her composure, knowing in the back of her mind that this aching lust was chemically induced. Morgan thought of the transmitter in her tongue, and held to that knowledge as best she could as she fought to stay in control of her now raging libido.
Cava-Rek watched the human as she swayed slightly on her feet, clearly locked in a losing fight for control of her body. By the Progenitor this woman and Tara were so alike, he thought to himself as the human in front of him began to run her hands across her body as if discovering it for the first time. For many cycles the magister had been searching for just such a woman, who could remind him of his first lover, and who could be broken to fit into his expectations. None of the other captives had proven fruitful in this regard, and with all of the genetic aberrations that had been emerging, he had begun to question his strategy. Perhaps this feisty specimen would unlock the path for his rise to greater power.
Tara had driven the hormone tool deep into his brain and filled him with an ultra-dose of his own arousal compounds, and as fate would have it the compounds were what had save his life. His two bodyguard warriors, whom had aided him in sexually conquering Tara just time segments before her assault on him, had come looking for him once the shooting started. As Tara launched her suicide attack on Warhive Gyrax the warriors had followed a standard combat protocol for security breach and hauled his body to an escape craft that launched them to safety. No Izrid magister had been forced to do so at any point during the invasion, though after many of the internecine wars that had forged the Izrid military culture the crafts were still present in vehicle design and regular escape drills were part of the regular warrior intelligence capsule regimens. The arousal compounds had artificially increased his body's production of adrenaline, immune system, and innate, even if somewhat latent, Izrid regenerative properties. The warriors were able to use the craft's emergency med-bay to apply shock rods to restart the magister's heart and brain. The med-bay had a robust life support coffin, which the warriors had laid him into as his body struggled to repair itself. In the many cycles that followed Cava-Rek had returned to health, and had begun a new phase of the Izrid occupation.
This human female standing before me, thought Cava-Rek, is perhaps an indicator of my triumphant return. He moved his shoulder back and let his robe slip to the floor, and then pulled down the front of his briefs, which he tucked under his testicles to allow the human a full view of his erection.
The mere sight of the alien's throbbing cock caused a stirring in Morgan, and she felt her self-control continue to be chipped away as he strode boldly towards her. Though she was in the crushing grip of the arousal compounds Morgan was still a confident warrior woman, and the way she stood her ground against his advance had its own sort of swagger. When Cava-Rek reached her he slowly ran one of his hands up her arm, sending shivers across her body as it went. When his hand moved across her throat and gripped a fistful of her hair Morgan could not help but to kneel before him and before she knew what was happening she had boldly taken his shaft in her hand. She was shocked at how unlike a human’s penis it actually was and yet how much she wanted it to be inside her, and equally frustrated that her body and mind seemed so bent upon betrayal. The young fighter worked the Izrid's shaft back and forth with her hand as the warlord used his thumb to open her mouth, into which he placed the fullness of his testicles. The sniper looked up at the warlord as she suckled his balls, and their eyes locked onto one another.
"The compounds in your collar are designed to maximize the sexual inclinations of your species," hissed the warlord as he savored the feeling of the human's tongue massaging his testicles, "Desire is simply a matter of chemistry."
Morgan moved her head back, letting the magisters balls free as she began running her tongue up and down his alien shaft. Her tongue encircled the tip and she took him fully into her mouth after moistening her lips to allow his girth entrance. At first she could only take part of him at once, then as she began to relax and get into a rhythm she was able to choke down more and more inches of his thick cock, until her nose touched the place where, had he been a human, his navel would have been.
"Yesterday you were fighting my warriors with every last ounce of your strength and resolve, now you are on your knees pleasuring the very conqueror you resist," Cava-Rek groaned, his voice made thick with lust, "This act of submission, more than any firefight or bombing campaign we hurl against your kind, is proof of Izrid supremacy."
Cava-Rek could not help but to marvel at the wonder of the technology he had created, and the pleasurable discoveries he had made with it. By the delicate and yet simple marriage of setting and chemistry he had turned a deadly human sniper into a willing sexual partner. As he watched his cock disappear down the human's throat he thought of how crude his original formula had been when first coupling with Tara, and that thought led him to recall how primitive his command of the human language had been. Primitive, he thought, much like the manner in which he and his warriors had savagely abused the human Tara, for how little they knew of the potential for intimacy, so focused had they been on the pure physicality of the act itself. The warlord gently pulled the human's mouth away from him, and firmly helped her to her feet and then led her to the soft bed he had prepared for them.
The magister gently pushed the human onto her back and slowly lifted her dress above her waist, exposing her pulsing womanhood. With his reptilian tongue he began licking her clitoris delicately as with his hand he depressed a nodule on the bracelet and increased the arousal compound dosage. The human who looked like Tara gasped and began pushing her pelvis towards him as she ran one hand across his muscled shoulder while the other moved up to cup her own breast. Cava-Rek had been experimenting and developing his skills with orally pleasuring human females with as much relentlessness as he had pursued his command of the human spoken language. Though he had since learned that human beings had a multitude of linguistic variants, he preferred the 'English' that was spoken by the resistance fighters he spent most of his time fighting or having sexual intercourse with. He had discovered he had a gift of eloquence, both in speaking the human language and in the oral pleasuring of human females. The warlord had realized that it pleased him to grant such pleasures to his captives, even as much as he enjoyed the verbose use of their spoken language. After extensive experimentation, both chemical and sexual, with lackluster results, Cava-Rek held little interest in the males of the species beyond the exhilaration of fighting them. His most current hypothesis was that the females could be conquered through chemistry as effectively, if not more so, than with violence. With no sentient females as part of the Izrid species to be used as reference, there would be much labor in achieving true progress in unlocking the secrets of human intimacy. As the resistance fighter moaned and writhed in the throes of an orgasm Cava-Rek found himself quite enamored of such labors.
Morgan cried out again as the alien betwe
en her legs continued to lap at her womanhood, bringing her rapidly to another sanity-shaking orgasm. She was terrified at how little control she had over her own mind and body, even as she marveled at the pleasurable potency of the experience. She attempted to fix her mind on the mission, to somehow endure this encounter and find her way to a weapons locker or something she could rig to explode. She was here to fight, not to fuck, and yet she did not want him to stop. Her hands moved under his shoulders and pulled him away from his work below and beckoned him on top of her. The hungry-eyed alien seemed only too happy to oblige, and moments later draped her legs over his shoulders as he drove the length of his hardness deep into her wet core.
"Do you know why we haven't simply wiped your species from the face of the planet with thermonuclear strikes?" asked the magister in a low hiss as he continued to thrust, driving his shaft into the resistance fighter, which elicited gentle moans of pleasure, "Our civilization, while admittedly at times factitious, survived the development of nuclear technology by subsequently abandoning it. You may think yourselves advanced for having such terrible weapons, and we thought as much when first we created them for ourselves."
Cava Rek lowered himself bodily on top of her, letting Morgan's legs move from being over his shoulders to instead wrap around his waist. The warlord increased his tempo as he let his reptilian tongue flick her erect nipples, then moved his mouth to her ear as he ground against her. Morgan ran her hands up and down his back, scratching at his tough hide in her passion as she bucked against him, meeting his thrusts with her own. Cava Rek's tongue slid over her neck and up to her ear just before he spoke.
"When we saw the kind of devastation they were capable of, the wholesale destruction of them, we dismantled them and destroyed the means by which they were made," he whispered huskily as he moved his arms underneath Morgan's back and neck, taking a firm grasp of her body, further intensifying their sexual collisions, "Conventional warfare is ugly, inefficient, and expensive, but it is clean. To wipe out an enemy with the push of a button is beyond evil, beyond reason, and counter-evolutionary. Better instead to fight and sweat and bleed."
"Why not just kill us?" she groaned as more waves of sensation crashed against her body and mind, "Why capture and fuck us?"
"Power is nothing if it is not exercised," he hissed in her ear as his pace increased to match Morgan's own, "Empires hunger for resources, even as flesh hungers for more flesh. I have conquered you, and this is how I show you just how completely I have done so."
Morgan bit her lip as she listened, shocked at the stimulation his words were causing in her, and she felt the first waves of an orgasm begin to wash over her. The warlord seemed to notice it and as he continued to fuck her he reached with one hand over to his bracelet and increased the dosage of arousal compounds. The rush of additional drugs pushed Morgan over the edge and she screamed with pleasure and rage as she was shattered by an orgasm so powerful that she blacked out for several seconds. She sprang back to consciousness when Cava-Rek growled and shook in the throes of his own orgasm as his cock poured seed into her body.
The Izrid magister rolled off of Morgan after several more strokes and lay on his back. He used his arms to gently maneuver the human fighter into his embrace, and she gingerly put her head against his muscled chest. Morgan was still caught up in the sex haze of the arousal compounds and their coupling, and against her best efforts she found herself quite pleased and relaxed in his arms. She lazily began running her finger up and down his rigid abdomen, swirling around the thin layer of pheromone oil that his body secreted during intercourse. Something in her, something primal, took comfort in the strength of his body, the possessiveness in his manner, and after the years of hard living and warfare a part of her wanted this. The room, the food, the music, and the tender yet forceful way in which the alien had taken her.
"It can be like this human," spoke Cava Rek, as if he sensed Morgan's inner dialogue, "Your species is as violent as ours, and though we initially thought to exterminate you, the directive has changed. One among you, a human female that called herself Tara, once laid with me the way you are now. We do not have any sort of intimacy in our Hive, and until recently it was a foreign concept to us. Though what I experienced was fleeting, and she has been dead for some months, what matters is that I felt it."
Morgan turned her head to face him, her hand slowly caressing his chest, and said, "I knew Tara, and she was a good soldier. It makes sense now that you chose me, I look so much like her. People used to wonder if we were sisters."
"It is true human, I chose you above the others because of your similarities," said the magister as he looked down at her, "now that intercourse for pleasure has been introduced to us, the magisters are more competitive with each other, we have prizes of flesh to win, and I provide them. Tara may have wounded me, but she showed me many things. The pleasure of a beautiful human female, and the reactions that my kind has to the sight of your sex. The warriors fight harder, the magisters are more strategically bold, all as a result of a new kind of incentive. Your bodies are great reservoirs of untapped potential, sexual and beyond. Of all the planet’s natural resources, it may well prove that the human species is the most valuable, even if the most costly to extract. You are not her, but you are close enough, and if your body bears the fruits I hope it shall, then there may still be a future for you, if you are willing to surrender."
"And the rest of humanity? What about the men?" Morgan asked.
"We will have to keep a few on hand for breeding purposes of course, and some magisters may find males more to their emerging sexual tastes," the Izrid said without a touch of remorse, "Though most will be eliminated. Your species has a chance for survival, as our spoils of war. You will be slaves, but you will survive."
ACT III
Morgan awoke in the pre-dawn hours, the soft sound of the alien's breath hissing in her ear as she realized she'd fallen asleep on his chest. The drugs seemed to have left her system completely, as she was instantly filled with revulsion at his presence. The cloying scent of his musk mixed with the oily residue of their earlier coupling that still clung to her body nearly made her vomit up the meager meal of meat and fruit from the night before. She ran her tongue over the roof of her mouth to make sure that the transmitter was still in place, concerned for a brief moment that it had been dislodged during her regrettable activity. The resistance fighter knew better than to attempt to remove the collar before dealing with the Izrid, so slipped as quietly as she could from the bed.
Years as a scout and sniper had honed her skills to lethal capacity, and she was able to move from the bed to the living room without making a sound. She immediately went for the heat knife on the table next to the uneaten meat and fruit. Morgan knew she would have to move quickly, as the transmitter's data had no doubt made it clear that she had been in the same location for many hours, and the attack would likely be coming soon. Though it was her primary mission to infiltrate, in part so that the resistance could attack an Izrid base but more so that the fate of the captive women could be learned, it was her secondary mission to aide that attack from inside. Morgan knew that at least Cruz and Lysa were in the compound with her, no doubt experiencing similar sexual humiliations, and she hoped that they too had found an opportunity to strike back. Morgan had done her best to memorize her path from the elevators to this apartment, and hoped that after she had murdered the warlord in his sleep that she would be able to find a useful way to aide in the assault. MacArthur's plan was bold, and extreme in its risk, though Morgan's formerly shaken confidence swelled once she was armed and on the hunt.
As the resistance fighter thumbed the heat knife to life and padded across the living room towards the sleeping alien the light began stabbing through the low rain clouds that had gathered on the horizon. Out of the corner of her eye Morgan saw the golden glint of light on metal, and turned just in time to see an Izrid warrior standing in the shadowed corner of the room, his presence only revealed once the light
hit the combat axe cradled loosely in his hand. Morgan turned to face him and noticed another emerge from the other side of the room, also bearing multiple combat axes held at the ready. The two warriors moved at the same time, both sprinting from their corners in unison with blinding speed. The young fighter knew she was outmatched with her one knife against a multitude of axes and the raw power of the warriors, though she had no intention of dying easily. Without a sound she counter-charged her enemies and rolled underneath the first blow as one warrior tried to hit her with the flat of his axe. She came out of the roll and brought the heat knife clean through the knee joint of the second warrior. The alien collapsed as Morgan turned on her heels and made a dash for the door. The first warrior missed a second time as it lashed out at the young fighter, and then she was out of range.
Suddenly a wave of sensation crashed across Morgan's awareness, and she lost her focus for a moment. She had reached the door, but dropped the knife as she fought to control her senses. By the time she'd gained her footing the first warrior grabbed her with all four arms and grappled her into a submission hold. Cava-Rek emerged from the bedroom and held up his bracelet, shaking it lightly as if in wagging a finger at a naughty child. Cava Rek walked forcefully into the living room, his reptilian features seeming to almost sparkle in the refracted sunlight coming through the glass wall that comprised the entirely of the living room's eastern wall. The warlord beckoned the warrior and it moved to meet its master in the center of the room with Morgan struggling helplessly in the firm grasp of its four arms. The presence of the Izrid chemicals in her system made it difficult for Morgan to focus, such was the pleasant sensation of being so overpowered by the warrior. She struggled to keep her mind clear, and did her best to keep the flash of adrenaline and killing rage fresh in her mind's eye. She had a job to do, and giving into the chemically induced lust was not an option.
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