A: Home Invasion

<proximal grade evaluations established. Subjects prioritized.> I took it as a compliment that my daughter was a grade one. My wife was marked as a potential grade four, maybe three, while Chloe was marked down as a likely grade two.
With the McGibbons being designated as likely grade five and lower, except for Wendy, that raven haired beauty is designated a grade two possible grade one, the protocols dictate that I was to secure my own family before acquiring the neighbors for The Supreme Master's Collection, may it grow forever.

I moved silently, somehow feeling like an intruder in my own home. I crept up the stairs past the teenagers studying and into my bedroom. My wife was blissfully asleep as I slipped into bed with her. She did not wake when I pressed my naked body to her and begin spreading the nanites over her skin. She barely roused when I started kissing her shoulders and neck, extruding a slug-like nano-colony around her throat that worked its way towards her nose and mouth.
My wife woke up trying to scream as the alien nano-weapon strangled her as it pushed itself into her nose and down her throat, but despite her best efforts, she could make no more than muffled cries for help, cries which the protocols dictated I ignore.
It did not take long for the nanomachines to consume and transform my wife <evaluation complete. grade:3. Role: ****. Function: socialexor. Uploading Commandments and Protocols.> when the aliens were done with her, my wife looked like she had over thirty years ago, no, she never had a body that fit, that toned. Her skin felt brand new when I touched her. "Are you alright, ****?" I asked her.
"I am fine. Master." She said. "This is strange, isn't it. I want to tell you. But the protocols. and. Oh God. Allison and Chloe." The look of horror when she realized what we had to do now was one that caused me immense pain.
"I know. But what can we do? The Supreme Master..."
"""Whose pleasure is our duty.""" We said in unison.
"...has given us The Commandments. We do not have a choice, do we?" I asked rhetorically.
"No, slaves must be slaves, masters must be masters. All shall be bound." She said before her lips touched mine.
I could feel the alien intelligences watching us as we shared an intimate moment. I could sense the likes and comments floating around in the cosmic noosphere as my sensory data was enjoyed in real time by the countless entities The Supreme Master, whose amusement is my obligation, had licensed our lives. It felt like a million eyes watching me as their tongues lick me and their fingers tickled and pinched me.
In that moment, I felt a jolt as aliens all over the universe were fighting over whether I should have sex with my wife right now or finish enslaving everyone in the household first. I got the sense that one faction wanted us to have a taste of what normal human marital sex was like while the other faction wanted to see a grade one Master dominate a prime grade wild humanoid. To say that it is unpleasant to have alien puppet masters fighting over your strings is an understatement, but I am happy to say that however rough the experience is, thanks to quantum temporal shenanigans, the spells of dread and agony as my fate is decided for me are brief.

(What is Jake's directive?)
(A:Show us how you fuck your wife.)
(B:Show us how you fuck your daughter.)