by Ella Ford
“You can’t leave me Belle!” I sobbed, twisting and squirming in her strong grasp. I was close to the closet now, but fought against her with all my might. “You can’t leave me when I’ve just found you!”
Belle simply smiled and pushed me firmly into the tiny space. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I’ll see you back at the ship,” she said cheerily and leaned forwards to kiss me. Then she shut the door to the closet and I was plunged into darkness.
After a few seconds, I heard the rhythmic click of high heeled boots on the stairs and the sound of the double doors swinging open and closed. The doors swung open again seconds later as Kyla’s soldiers took the bait and set off after Belle. I forced myself to remain perfectly still, not even daring to breathe, allowing every last Sextrooper to clear from the staircase.
Then with trembling hands, I pushed the door open a tiny amount and peered outside. The staircase was empty. I cocked my head to the side and listened, straining to hear what was happening outside. Distantly, beneath the constant wail of the alarm, I thought I heard female voices, raised in a chorus of commotion. I wondered if that was Belle, hoped against hope that she was okay.
With a deep breath, I pushed the door fully open and emerged gingerly, ready to dart back into the closet at the slightest sound. Nothing. I looked around and considered heading into the fourth floor to find Belle, but realized that there was little that I could do. With a heavy heart, I headed upwards, taking the stairs two at a time.
After several minutes, I reached the roof access door. For a second, I feared it would be locked, but it opened easily with the slightest push. I fell through, stumbling out into the bright light of day, suddenly very aware of my nakedness. I looked around, squinting in the harsh sunlight, desperately hoping that Belle would have found her way there before me. But she was nowhere to be seen.
From the street below, I heard a sudden commotion and hurried over to see what was happening. I dropped to a crouch beside the low wall and peered over. A group of people had gathered at the foot of the steps to city hall, attracted by the alarm and commotion. I scanned the crowd, recognizing faces, friends and acquaintances from a life that seemed distant and remote, a borrowed memory from a stranger. Mixed in with the crowd, I saw the telltale uniforms of Kyla’s troopers, stalking around menacingly.
At the top of the steps, there was a sudden movement. A figure stepped out of the building and raised her hands. The crowd fell silent. It was Layanda, I recognized her raven black hair and cream skirt suit.
“Friends of Sycamore Falls,” she sung out, her voice echoing around the buildings of Main Street. “My people and I come to you in peace. We seek to enrich your lives by sharing our technologies and secrets, by giving you the gift of Orgasmium, a precious mineral that has brought great pleasure to our people.”
The crowd murmured suspiciously, peering round at the uniformed women with their sinister hand weapons.
“But know this,” continued Lyanda, “we shall not tolerate violence against our people. Such terrorist acts will be dealt with harshly.” Behind her, more motion. My eye moved to the door as a pair of Sextroopers wheeled out a trolley that held a slab of pink, translucent material. It was approximately six feet tall and two feet deep, rectangular with rough edges. The rippled surface glimmered in the morning sun, and deep inside the strange object was an indistinct, dark shape.
I strained my neck and risked being seen, but I had to get a better look at the pink slab. A strange feeling of dread had settled in my mind, a creeping sense of impending doom.
Lyanda turned and gestured at the strange pink object. “Behold, the terrorist Princess Bellandra, a known recidivist and wanted criminal among my people.”
The crowd gasped and I slapped my hand over my mouth as I heard Belle’s name, still unsure what was happening. The Sextroopers that were pushing the trolley turned the slab to face the crowd, rotating it through an angle that gave me a perfect view of its broadest face.
“No!” I screamed as I finally realized what the slab was.
Frozen in the pink material was Belle, her hands raised up around her head, fingers curled into tight claws. Her face was locked in a pained expression of surprise and fear, breasts and legs held motionless in the translucent substance. I stood up and leaned out over the wall. “No!” I repeated, eyes flooding with tears and mind racing with unbidden thoughts of panic and loss. Without thinking, I lifted my hands and pointed the Orgasmic disruptor that I still held in my and squeezed it, producing two bursts of hot pink light. The twin blasts struck the Sextroopers that had transported Belle’s frozen body and they collapsed to the floor, bodies shaking and writhing as the force of the orgasm took them.
The crowd scattered and broke, people running in every direction. Several Sextroopers drew their own weapons and fired up at where I stood, narrowly missing me and causing blooming bursts of pink light to blossom on the building.
Lyanda turned to face me. “You can’t stop us Laura, you can’t win. Bellandra will be taken back to my people and stand trial for crimes against the Vulvan race. She will be found guilty, and executed. Then the Earth will be ours!” she shouted with a mad cackle.
One by one, the Sextroopers were rounding on where I stood, hot blasts of pink light exploding on the wall beside me, inches away from my naked body. It was just a matter of time before one hit me, but I fired back wildly, not thinking about what I was doing, knowing only that I had to help Belle.
Suddenly, I felt a familiar prickling sensation, a strange tingle that washed over my entire body in one quick wave. “No! No!” I cried out. “Not now!”
But it was too late and the phaseshift had begun. I tried to fight against it but it was pointless and, within a fraction of a second, my world collapsed to a hot flash of pink light and then darkness, and I knew no more.
TO BE CONTINUED
Return Of The Lesbian Invaders From Space
by Ella Ford
Chapter 1: Three Body Problem
What do you remember about 1986? Max Headroom? The Space Shuttle exploding? The soccer world cup in Mexico? What about the time that the Earth was invaded by an interstellar race of insatiable space lesbians intent on enslaving human women and sending our men to work in their gruelling Orgasmium mines? No? Didn’t think so.
But, somehow, it happened and I got caught up in the whole sexy mess. Me, Laura Hayman, twenty-two and a bit; waitress, high school dropout, daring sapphic heroine with a razor-sharp wit, diamond-honed instincts and a powerful sensuality that had my enemies cowering at my feet, basking in the sheer radiance of my sexual prowess.
Or, at least, that’s how I like to remember it.
You see, it all started when I met Belle - Princess Bellandra of the Vulvan people, to give her proper title. Belle had come to Earth in pursuit of a deadly space villain called Kyla, whose nefarious faction was intent on pillaging the Earth for its flesh and minerals, believing that humans were fit only to be slaves - slaves in their mines, and slaves in their harems.
As luck would have it, Kyla’s invasion started in my home town of Sycamore Falls, Oregon, and it’s there that I met Belle. One thing led to another and, well, let’s just say that we hit it off. Belle awakened a side of me that I’d never encountered before; a bold, sexual, confident side. For a few glorious days, Belle and I pursued a most intimate form of human-alien diplomacy, and things were good.
But then it all started to go wrong. On a simple mission to disrupt Kyla’s mining operation, Belle and I became separated. Before I knew it, I was semi-naked, standing on the roof of Sycamore Falls’ city hall building, watching as my blond lover was hauled off, frozen in a block of solid Orgasmium! As they wheeled her away, Belle’s ship began to teleport me up into orbit and… well, I blacked out.
Some daring heroine huh? Let’s get on with the story...
The weird thing about phaseshifting between Earth and space is that it’s fine as long as you know it’s going to happen. When it catches you by su
rprise, when you try to fight it with every atom of your being, that’s when it really hurts. So, as the glimmering shroud of Orgasmium light settled over my awareness and I felt myself drifting towards dark oblivion, I fought desperately to remain anchored to the roof of city hall. My only thought was of Belle and rescuing her from her strange fate. I opened my mouth to scream, but it was too late. The throbbing pink light darkened to black and I felt the strange, familiar sensation of falling settling in the pit of my stomach. My awareness collapsed down to a single feeling of absolute loss and I knew no more.
“Laura, wake up, we have to move, now!” said a distant voice with a sense of urgency that I wanted no part of. My entire body felt as though it was on fire, every nerve-ending a tiny pinprick of pure agony.
“Belle, what…” I moaned, struggling to open my eyes and focus on something, anything. I was surrounded by an overwhelmingly white light, a clinical glare that made me blink with confusion and pain. I was back on the ship I realized with a sudden groan; the strangely sterile, impeccably bright ship.
“It’s not Belle, Laura, it’s Trina. Melia is here as well. We know what happened, we were monitoring Kyla’s feeds from here.”
Abruptly I sat bolt upright and grabbed Trina’s shoulders. The normally flippant and unflappable raven haired girl looked fraught and scared, her brow furrowed over her deep brown eyes. “We have to go back! We have to get Belle!” I cried frantically.
“Laura, calm down. Belle is safe for now - the Orgasmium ore that they’ve imprisoned her in will maintain her bodily functions. It’ll be like a long sleep to her.” She did her best to smile, but it came out looking harried and forced. “Right now, we have more pressing concerns.”
I blinked and forced myself to calm down, glancing over Trina’s shoulder at Melia; the pretty, short-haired blonde that reminded me so much of her sister, Belle. The other girl had a look on her face that mirrored Trina’s - a look of concern and fear. “Wh-what’s wrong?” I stammered.
“To retrieve you, we had to bring the ship out of silent running mode. I hoped that we would be quick enough to get away with it, but Kyla’s command ship is on high alert and they detected us immediately. A squadron of interceptors has just been dispatched.” She paused and her face went dark. “They’re not trying to board us this time Laura. They’re trying to blow us out of the sky!”
I gasped, unable to take it all in. “What can we do?”
“We’re making a run for the planetary pole. If we align our orbit correctly, we might be able to lose them in the shadow of the Earth’s magnetic field.”
I nodded numbly, wishing, not for the first time, that the hardest problem I had to face in any given day was a low-tipping customer or an incorrect drinks order.
“Come on,” said Trina, standing up from her squatting position and dragging me with her. “We need to get to the bridge.”
With that, the two alien girls hurried out of the room, opening a glowing portal of light in the blank, white wall with a deft wave of Trina’s hand, then disappearing into the corridor beyond.
“Oh boy,” I sighed, and set off after them, my body still aching from the trials of the day.
The curving corridor took us around the belly of the ship, a white hallway of pristine smooth surfaces and yet more overwhelming whiteness. The starkness of the decor contrasted with Trina and Melia, making them stand out with impossible clarity. Both girls wore matching silver mini-dresses, sheer pink pantyhose and long, knee-length silver boots with a sharp stiletto heel. I knew from experience that their appearances - both the clothes they wore and their actual bodies - were a product of my own imagination, an illusion given form by the strange perceptual mimetic properties of their Orgasmium technology. In effect, Trina and Melia appeared how I wanted them to appear, reflecting my inner desires and subconscious fantasies.
I glanced down at myself as I trotted along behind them. Virtually naked but for a pair of tan thigh-high stockings and cute, low-heeled black pumps, I wondered when I’d get a chance to change out of the skimpy costume that Belle and I had used to trick Governor Lyanda into believing we were docile sex-slaves. Maybe after we’d escaped the incoming space fighter jets, I thought to myself with an incredulous feeling of dislocation. None of this seemed real, none of it seemed plausible.
How could it be? I was quiet, mild-mannered Laura Hayman. The closest I got to interplanetary intrigue was catching a rerun of Battlestar Galactica on ABC with a tub of comfort ice-cream. A part of me missed that simple, uneventful life.
But then an image flashed into my mind. It was Belle, her pretty, blank expression staring back at me as she hung in the air in the ship’s anti-gravity chamber. Her naked body porcelain pale and utterly flawless; high, pert breasts heaving as she breathed deep breaths of smouldering desire, ruby lips parted slightly, and bottomless blue eyes, alive with a rich vitality that invited me forwards.
I realized that I had to continue, had to rescue Belle from her strange captivity. My old life was over, my future was with the peculiar alien princess and her exotic friends.
The three of us reached the end of the corridor and Trina flashed her hands out in a dismissive wave, causing the wall before us to ripple and change with an unusual urgency, parting quickly to allow us through without slowing down. We stepped through into the ship’s bridge, a modest sized room with six gravity couches around the wall, sterile looking dentist’s chairs that bristled with an unknowable level of technology.
Trina and Melia hopped onto their respective couches and immediately began to trace out strange symbols with their slender fingers. The chairs sprang to life, glowing rectangles of shimmering green light emerging from the armrests to hover before the alien girls’ hands, conveying reams of scrolling information that flashed by at a frantic pace.
“Take a seat Laura,” said Trina, barely looking up from her display. “This could get rough.”
I glanced around and selected a chair, then lowered myself down into the comfortable beige couch, feeling the intelligent material mould around my naked bottom and back. Instantly, I felt strangely blind and useless; unable to assist Trina and Melia, unable to see what was going on.
Melia seemed to sense my despair and flicked her hand at the far wall of the featureless room. The flat surface rippled and pulsed, solid material melting to liquid light, then coalescing into an indistinct black rectangle with unfocused motes of light dancing around it. Seconds later, the picture solidified to show the view from outside the ship: an endless expanse of night framed at the top by the curving expanse of the Earth - home! - a blue-green marble with infinite fractal detail looming above us. I felt dizzy and disoriented, stricken with homesickness and vertigo.
As I watched, a flock of moving pinpricks became apparent, arcing in from the left of the screen, ten tiny dots flying in close formation.
“There they are,” said Trina, her eyes flicking up to the screen then straight back down to the pulsing green rectangle in the air before her. “Hold on, we’re heading north” she added, then waved her hand in a sweeping gesture.
The screen began to roll lazily, the hanging bulk of the Earth rotating around the edge and slewing clockwise until the familiar pacific coastline of the United States drifted into clarity. I felt a strange tugging sensation, a feeling of being pushed backwards into the couch, but nothing more. There was no change in the quiet hum of the ship’s engine, no feeling of acceleration beyond that gentle sensation of being pulled down. Distantly, I marvelled at the alien technology, admiring the way it casually ignored the laws of physics with capricious ease.
The scene outside began to change, the landscape below rolling past as we traversed north in our orbit. The squadron of pursuing ships drifted to the left, then finally fell off the edge of the screen. I felt a wave of relief wash over me as our attackers faded behind us, as though not being able to see them somehow protected us.
“They’re gaining on us,” said Trina with a fevered sense of urgency, dispelling my fee
ling of ignorant comfort with a single phrase. Melia sighed and squinted at the screen, then pointed her finger and flicked it upwards. This time, I did feel something. The background hum of the ship changed, becoming higher pitched and subtly louder. The faintest hint of vibration became apparent in the armrest of the gravity couch as I gripped it tightly, and the gentle tugging became more pronounced, pulling me back into the chair with a force that bordered on uncomfortable.
“One thousand kilometers,” droned Trina with robotic efficiency. Her fingers were moving quickly now, a blur of activity like a secretary with an invisible typewriter. She had a look of concentration on her face that caused her brow to furrow and her eyes to narrow. “Seven hundred, nearly there. Melia, prepare the ship for shutdown. Once we’re under cover of the pole’s radiation field, we set us dark and kill all power to the engines. Hopefully they’ll think we jumped away or mistake us for a satellite or something.”
She didn’t sound particularly certain, but Melia nodded and turned back to her own controls, flicking her hand downwards with a rhythmic beat that looked like an orchestra conductor leading an up tempo section of music. As she worked, the ship began to shut down: first the screen, shimmering quickly then collapsing to a single point of black light, then disappearing completely. Next, the illumination on the bridge changed; stark white light dimming to recessed emergency lights that gave the space a brooding, sinister feel.
I shuddered, suddenly aware of the precariousness of our situation. Mere meters away from the hard vacuum of space, knowing only to well how deadly exposure to that perfect emptiness could be - thanks, Discovery Channel!
