Choosing A Dream: Part Two

Pack Elder Chpkh rested his old bones in the comfortable hover chair provided by the nice Zee-Rai lady as they entered the hab-rock as he waited for his turn at youthification. The old timer had been one of the firebrands on the council to vote to strip Prah of his office and title as Chtk'th'. It had been a furious debate, but ultimately, against Chpkh’s objections, the coward faction on the council won out and sixty one hundred years of freedom riding would come to an end.

Chpkh remembered his grandfather’s stories of the First Rebels and the Big Break Out. How a handful of thralls slated for the blood racks stole an alien starship and started a movement that had taken The Great Pack across the stars. Those were his favorite stories as a boy, the stories of roguish pioneers breaking the shackles of their oppressors. Stories where the brave, bold, and dashing voidsman scout discovers some exotic civilization and leads his clan to glory and plunder. Chpkh, typical of any Knavar who survives long enough, had done it all. He had lead raider parties on alliance outposts, he had sailed a dirigible through the clouds of a gas giant, he had dined with the chieftains of pre-nuclear civilizations and stolen their daughters away. Chpkh had loved and lost enough for several lifetimes as he watched his pack and his clan wither cycle after cycle under the constant **** of the Alliance hunters, Kroxaa war fleets, and now after all of that, Chpkh had lived to see his people once again brought to shameful captivity at the hands of alien overlords.

At least, that was how the old man had seen things until the other day. Maybe it was the fact that the younger people seemed more excited than terrified. Maybe the rumors about humans using mind control gas is true, or maybe Chpkh was the sort of cowardly old man who was willing to trade his freedom for the chance to be young again. Regardless of the reason, Pack elder Chpkh waited in the queue with the rest of the old farts for his chance to be youthified.

“Before we begin, Do you wish to solicit an owner for yourself on the **** market or are you satisfied with your status belonging to your lord as his vassal?” The machine asked the old Knavar man.

It surprised Chpkh how hard this question was to answer. It should have been an easy answer, but something made the old man hesitate. Images of rubbing himself against a human’s bare legs and thoughts of licking food from the palms of their hands filled Chpkh’s mind and the old Knavar was tempted to tell the machine to make him a ****.

But then he thought of his daughters and his grandchildren. Yma, Tsha, and Zassha’s musk’s came to the forefront of his mind. Memories of their pups laughing came to the old man along with smiles. He especially worried about Frdl and Chra. The two girls were blossoming into such lovely young ladies. Chpkh wanted to see his granddaughters choose strong husbands and knew that would be impossible if he were to be bought as chattel. “I am not for sale. At this time.” said Chpkh to the machine. The old Knavar did not think too hard about why he added that last part as he fell into someone else’s memories.

***

Frdl and Chra had been thrilled to learn all about what the humans called “Partying.”

The two Knavar girls were pleasantly surprised to discover that, being eighteen Terran years old, they were permitted to enter the nubiles’ section of the habitat. “You can’t do that” Zpht-Jr huffed and scratched at the decking in frustration. “Mom and aunt Zassha said that we have to stay together until they get back.” You cub pleaded to his cousin and big sister as the Mekani who performed the bioscans blocked the boy from the teleportal.

“Don’t be such an Egaz.” Said Chra. “What our moms’ want does not matter anymore. We belong to him.” Zpht-Jr watched his cousin’s legs squeeze together and squirm as she pointed to the holographic projection of their Lord and master, James Fujiwara, gesturing for the 18 to 26 year old Knavar, those young people who were considered too young by their old society, but now considered old enough by the laws of their superiors. “Are you coming, Frdl?” Chra asked her cousin.

The eighteen year old Knavar swallowed nervously. The young girl saw the excitement on her fun loving adventurous cousin’s face and wanted to share in that joy the care free girl felt. Then Frdl saw the fear and anxiety on her little brother’s face. The boy was all alone. His younger siblings had been taken somewhere called the ****-creches, his parents were off hanging out in the grown ups only section with the humans, and now his big sister and cousin were abandoning him to go eat candies and splash around in a water tank. “Please, don't go.” Zphr-Jr pleaded with his sister.

Before Frdl could speak, the NOXET addled teenage girl’s gaze drifted over to the projection of her Lord and Master. James Fujiwara’s image wore his dress uniform as it beckoned the flower of the Knavar youth to come and enjoy the generosity of the one to whom they belonged. Frdl was not capable of turning down an invitation from this man to come and indulge. After a lifetime of duty and spartan living, the Knavar teenager wanted to relax and enjoy herself.

“Please, Frdl. I am worried that if you go through there then I will never see you again.” Zpht-Jr began to whimper as he realized that her mind was made up.

Frdl laughed and gave her brother’s snout a lick. “Don’t be silly.” The eighteen year old Knavar mussed up her brother’s back fur before she suggested that “you should find Aunt Tsha and Uncle Zchsh in the nature park. I hear that they have tumbling Ligreons and Amarleans that do tricks like balancing balls on their noses.”

“Really?”Zpht-Jr’s tail began to wag.

“Only one way to find out.” Said Chra. “Give Aunt Tsha our love and tell Clptra that she is totally missing out.”

Frdl and her cousin Chra walked tail in tail through the gateway and into a pressurized stream of vodka and fruit juice being sprayed into the girl’s faces, soaking their jumpsuits making the synthetic fabric stick to their athletic frames.

Chra let out a howl of joy as she felt the music.

***

The Knavar nubiles quickly learned that in The Federation clothes were seen as optional. Chra and Frdl were quick to discard their jumpsuits and decorate their bodies in hardlight projectors built into jewelry.

The two Knavar teens had stripped off the **** soaked utilitarian one piece worn by all Knavar and asked the fashion fabricator to dress them in the sort of outfits that are typical for Knavar girls their age. The girls watched their reflections as the replicator seemed to make jewelry that just materialized out of thin air directly onto the body’s of the nubile girls. Their arms and legs became wrapped in bands of gold that fluttered with ephemeral gossamer which floated around the wearer like a glowing mist. Around their neck and waist were wrapped chains of gold that produced a shimmering field to obscure the view of the Knavar’s private parts without concealing anything. The only real piece of clothing the two girls wore were the pelvic curtains that were secured to their waists by a chain that twisted around the Knavars’ tails. Frdl wore an opaque white cloth over her nether regions while Chra’s was decorated with a piece of translucent red silk. When the two girls found out the significance of the color codes the pair of them were both surprised.

“You have mated?” Frdl asked her cousin with a look of shock.

“You haven’t?” Chra asked with a look of incredulity. “Were you really going to keep yourself pure until grandpa approved of your mate choice?” Chra started to laugh as Frdl’s tail curled up in embarrassment. “C’mon.” The more adventurous of the two cousins dragged her family into the cave with the loud music and pulsing lights.

Gibbons hated being dehumanized. The farm bred Knavar had been born humanized and always felt like wearing this feral form was degrading, but the **** boy was not about to complain. He had been given a procurement assignment by his owner and he was going to carry it out. His owner wanted a virgin Knavar girl and ordered Gibbons to go down and mingle with the savages in order to find one that was up to the human’s standards.

The Knavar **** procurer found what was looking for. She was perfect. A lithe, athletic, tall, white silk with that look of innocence about her. An adorable little bitch with a lovely coat and the most perfect narrow snout that would translate into beautiful facial features once the virgin was humanized.

Gibbons replicated up five drinks, one regular beer and four narcocktails put the bitches in the right state of mind, and walked over to where his prey was dancing in a big group of white and red silked nubiles.

He was the most attractive man that Frdl and Chra had ever seen in their lives. The two cousins had run into their friends Mgnd and Shzharp from the crew who were trying out different **** along with some of the other cadet crew when they spotted the hottest guy any of them had ever seen. His coat was so thick, his nose was so black and wet. He had muscles on his muscles. More than that was how he carried himself and how he was dressed.

The Knavar man carried himself with an air of confidence and a sense of purpose. He wore clothes that made for a Knavar body from some of the hottest xeno-fashion houses in The Arisaka Cluster. The bright magenta three piece suit was unlike anything the young Knavar had ever seen, but as he strode through the crowd, everyone’s gaze was drawn to the band around the man’s neck. Gibbons strutted through the crowd swaying in such a way to make sure that everyone could see the **** collar that sat snuggly around his throat. The man left whispers in his wake as he moved through the crowd. What was a **** doing hanging out with them? How much did his owner pay for him? Do you think that he has had sex with a human?

“Oh ancestors, he is walking towards us.” said Chra.

The Knavar man handed the four drinks to the four girls. “Welcome to The Federation.”

The girls took the drinks and lapped them up as they stared at the guy. “You, your…” Chra could not get her words out, the Knavar traced her finger along the man’s neck.

“I have the privilege of being my owner’s chattel.” said Gibbons wagging his tail as he licked the girl’s snouts in a casual greeting. The four young bitches returned the gesture and felt themselves become dizzy with excitement, the hound’s pheromones almost as intoxicating as their beverages. Chra and Frdl looked at eachother and did their best to contain their laughter and excitement. They knew that they were both thinking the same thing, that this incredibly hot guy was the personal **** to a human.

“What is it like?” Mgnd asked the man. Images of mating with this hunk while a bunch of humans watched her turned to fantasies of licking the sweat from between a human’s legs.

“It is the most wonderful thing in the whole world.” said Gibbons truthfully. “Imagine feeling complete contentment and joy all the time. As a ****, I know my purpose. I know that I exist to serve and worship The Master Race and to obey and please my owner. That is it, that is all I have to do. I focus on that and everything else falls away and I can feel the hum of the cosmos.”

“The hum of the cosmos?” Frdl asked.

Gibbons smiled. “You are as curious as you are cute.” Frdl felt herself butterflies fluttering in her stomach as the hunk pulled on her ear with his teeth with such aggressive affection. “It is just my word for it. But every xeno knows the feeling of when the NOXET inside of your cells is sending out the positive signals. Every individual experiences it differently, but all of us understand that when you are working to fulfill the will and desires of the one to whom you belong, when a xeno knows that they are making their owner happy, doing what they want and acting as an extension of their will, everything feels right.” Gibbons closed his eyes and smiled as he collected himself, the thoughts of his own joyful bondage nearly overwhelming the farm boy. “Nothing else in the universe can beat that sense of connection, that feeling that you are one with the universe.” Gibbons took a sip of his beer and studied the expressions of the girls’ faces.

“What if your owner wants you to do something that you don’t want to do?” Frdl asked.

“I don’t understand.” said Gibbons.

“Like, what if your owner is this really ugly guy who wanted you to, like eat farts or something?” asked Chra.

“Ahh. I get what you are asking. That is the best part.” Gibbons took another sip of beer as he composed a way to explain bondage to these ignorant savages. “See, the more joy you bring your owner, the more joy you will feel. How a **** pleases their owner is irrelevant so long as the owner is pleased. Those sorts of people who become deeply intimate with their xenos and take immense joy in really using their personal property to its fullest extent are the best sorts of humans to serve. We can only wish to be so lucky as to be owned by someone who finds fun and interesting ways for us to delight them.” Gibbons heard two of the four girls let out a moan while one of the red silks bit her lip. The Knavar man looked at his target and said to the virgin girl “You look like you have something to say.”

Frdl, suddenly aware that she was the center of everyone’s attention, took a sip of her amazing drink and looked at the man in the fancy suit, his collar seemed to have an ethereal aura about it. Frdl wondered how the almost mystical band would feel around her neck. “I was just thinking how jealous I am of you. I wish I could feel that kind of connection and fulfillment.”

“You can.” said Gibbons as he activated the hardlight display on his bracer, opened a connection to the local **** market portal, scanned Frdl’s ID glyph and opened up her profile and showed it to her. “Twelve shackles and four chains. You are not cheap, but hardly overpriced.” Gibbons caressed the young girl’s ear. “Say the word, and I will procure you for my owner. You can become someone’s personal property and know the true joys of bondage.”

Frdl felt totally overwhelmed by the moment, but that did not matter. The girl knew what she wanted. “Yes. I want to be bound to your owner. Take me and make me a real ****.”

Gibbons finished putting in the last few inputs before pulling up the hand print confirmation key. “Once you touch the red button, you will have officially sold yourself.”

Frdl jumped up and down in excitement before she pressed the button. Suddenly her neck felt as if a wet hand were wrapping around her as the malmetal links of her necklace shifted into a solid ring around the Knavar girl’s neck. Frdl felt the **** collar tighten to fit snugly around her throat and began to cry tears of joy. The eighteen year old girl thought that she was beginning to understand what her new **** brother meant by being a **** feeling right.

“Come along. You never want to keep your owner waiting.” Gibbons said as he drew out the leash the new **** girl’s collar.

As they realized that, with the virgin in tow the man was leaving them, Chra, Mgnd, and Shzharp growled and barked at the man. “““Hey, what about us?”””

“The geneforge is right over there.” Gibbons pointed to the queue of sexy young boys and girls lining up to enter the humanized sections of the habitat. “Anyone can put themselves on the **** market. Go try and sell yourself and see if someone is willing to buy you.” The man shrugged and led Frdl to the express line for the teleportal. The crowd of youths let out noises of anger and irritation when Frdl cut in front of the whole group of unowned vassals.

“That bitch.” Chra said as she watched her cousin leaving her. “Can you believe that? She just goes off and sells herself.” Jealousy overwhelmed the Knavar girl. “Well. She is not the only one who can find an owner for herself.” Mgnd downed her narcocktail and started heading towards the line to be geneforged and teleportaled to the human section.

“Wait, maybe it is better to play hard to get.” Shzharp said. “Like, maybe if we wait here, other procurers like that hot guy will come and buy us. Something tells me that a girl who is throwing herself at their potential owner is worth less than a girl who tries to play hard to get.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Mgnd said. “The humans want us to show them how enthusiastic we are to be their slaves. They do not want to go around chasing xenos. They want the xenos to come to them.”

Shzharp winced slightly at her best friend’s use of that word. From what the cadet understood about the Federation language, the word ‘xeno’ was a derogatory slur that is meant to be demeaning to the alien population of The Federation.

“You can do what you want,” said Chra. “But I am not going to keep my future owner waiting.”

After a few seconds, Mgnd and Chra heard Shzharp call out for the two other teens to “wait up!” The three teenage girls did not have to wait too long on line before they got the chance to tell the geneforge’s A.I.

“Yes. I would like to enter a state of bondage.” said pack cadet Shzharp

“Put me on the market and sell me.” said pack cadet Mgnd

“Ancestors, I want to feel someone’s collar on my neck.” said pack cadet Chra. “Make me a ****.”

***

The Knavar males who chose to remain as vassals to lord James Fujiwara like Pack Elder Chpkh, dreamt that they were standing in the middle of a semi-circular couch being looked at by a number of humans, including their lord. James jumped up to his feet, put his arms around the dreaming man, and squeezed the alien in a hug. “My xeno.” said James.

The Federation Language, or Fedlang for short, had evolved with the Homo Superior doctrine over nearly two and a half centuries to incorporate special grammar and syntax rules based on the status of the speaker and audience. Like Japanese from archaic Earth, social hierarchy has become ingrained into the very rules of language. Though sympathists and integrators will go out of their way to speak to aliens as their almost equals, and quite a few people are just too lazy to care, James was raised to always address his male vassals using proper speech as a sign of respect.

“Dude, you are one smart xeno. You would be amazed how many of these dumbasses be rushing off to sell themselves cheap like I ain’t gonna take care of y’all. Thatsome boooshite. But you. My xeno. You know where is at, you know that Jimmywara gonna hook you up tiiiight.” James snapped his fingers and the two Knavar concubines that James had brought from his personal stable who had been on their knees worshiping their master rose to their feet and draped a necklace around the dreamer. “That is thirty two links right there. My gift to you on top of an allowance of three links a day, enjoy it.” The dreamer felt the concubines’ hands caress and fondle his humanized penis before they resumed their place kneeling down.

“For the next few days, xeno,” James started to sound really excited. “we gonna be throwing one bangerjamon of a party, you hear. I want you and all my other xeno boys to rock out and get your freak on. I want you to be vaping all my vapes, drinking all my drink, and fucking every whore in this crib.

“All this ain’t free o’course.” said James as he pulled up a star chart. “I got a score to settle, some dumbass uppity xenos gone done the dumbest dumbass thing a xeno and do. So…” James took a deep breath as he got a grip on the anger that boiled inside of him. “I am gonna have to crump a few xenos, and I want all of my boys with me. So here is the deal. You party, you enjoy a few days of wild fuckery, you watch a little triumph, then we get in our ships and go do some conquering.

“After that, it is like I said, Jimmywara gonna hook you up tight.” The star chart faded out and was replaced with images of a bucolic village in a green countryside with laughing humanized children being watched over by men and women dressed as colorful costumes. “I have this town a few kilometers from my summer manor where I have most of my cheese made. You are gonna love it. I am gonna give you a house with a garden, set you up with a wife and a few Dranza so that you can enjoy a quiet life of domestic tranquility and enthusiastic procreation.” James gave the dreamer another hardy pat on the back before gesturing to where there sat a short curvaceous woman with thick spectacles. “This is Doc Schwalenberg.” James said as Yolanda stood up. James took her hand in his own and kissed her rings. “She is my resident Xenopologist. You answer to her. She has this fascination with alien cultures and wants to study you. Ain’t that right doc?” asked James.

Yolanda adjusted the data lenses she wore as a fashion statement as much as they were a data interface and grinned at the dreamer. Her tight black dress struggled to contain the woman’s bosom. The dreamer’s gaze was fixated on the human’s cleavage and how it heaved as the xenopologist talked. “Despite the rumors, The Federation is not actually in the business of destroying alien cultures. The Ligreons and the Dranza were special cases, and the Zee Rai never had a culture of which to speak off to begin with. The truth is.” Yolanda’s hands traced the muscle on the dreamer’s body. “Many of us are fascinated by aliens. There are those among us who appreciate the art, music, and stories of non-human peoples. Not everyone thinks that xeno-paintings are only suitable as diapering material.” Yolanda could not help but give Reagan a side eye. “It is my hope that, in time. Federation culture will be all the richer for our understanding of our subjects.” Yolanda’s hands toyed with the dreamer’s ears and hair. “And in time, it will make it easier to train you to be better at pleasing The Master Race.” Yolanda buried the memcorder’s face in her bosom. The dreamer was motorboating the human woman’s fat tits when he woke up.

***

The Knavar females who chose to place themselves on the **** market like Chra, Mgnd, and Shzharp, dreamt that they were standing in a semi-circle being stared at by their lord and master as he cuddled with a petite human woman. “What does she look like to you?” Lord James Fujiwara asked his beloved.

“She looks like a cheap whore to me.” said Reagan.

“I do not have to say it.” said James. “But she looks like a xeno’s xeno. What do you think, Syd?”

The dreamer watched as the tall, lithe, beautiful, powerful human dressed in gold and shimmering light stood up and walked over to where the dreamer was standing, the sound of high heels clicked ominously.

“She looks like a dumb little cunt who’s only value is her ability to make more dumb cunts and lumbering hunks who might, might, one day, be worth a chain.” As Commander Myers walked around the dreamer, zer talons toyed with the xeno’s soft skin while the transcendent held the woman’s neck up, focusing the dreamer’s gaze on James and Reagan and not on whatever it was that was leaving a trail of tingling slime on her waist and leg.

“Here is how it works, quad whore.” said Reagan. The human woman’s gold and shear vermillion dress shimmered and showed off Reagan’s figure as she sat up and activated a holographic display. “You, and any female offspring or siblings you might have, will be housed together in a standard cellular habitat. You will stay in your hab cell whenever you are not on a job.” The dreamer saw images of women working in retail stores, women serving food, women performing massages, women cooking, cleaning, dancing, and doing pretty much any job that someone might prefer be done by a real woman as opposed to a machine. “When you are off of the job, you will stay in your hab cell, you will train, you will study, and you will prepare for your client like a good whore.”

The display changed and the dreamer saw an image of a Ligreon male barging into a room with a bed, a sanitation stall, and a dead eyed woman who said nothing as the gruff and feral xeno literally ripped the woman’s clothes off and **** her to her knees. Without prompting, the whore on display began to suck the xeno off. “This dude worked hard and decided to treat himself a two bit whore, a whore just like you. For those two bits, this fine stud of a xeno can expect nine hours to enjoy himself with this cheap skank. Nine hours where he can do anything he wants with his rented piece of cheap, worthless, xeno cunt.”

It was then that the dreamer felt it squirm and wriggle its way inside of her. Sydney grabbed the memcorder by her neck and shoulders and pulled the girl roughly into zer bosom as zhe first wriggled, then rammed zer font inside of the xeno’s cunt. The dreamer felt her pussy being filled. The strange thing snaked and twisted about inside of the **** girl’s pussy. The girl felt herself being probed and explored deeper than any man had ever been before. For those dreamers who were virgins, the experience was utterly overwhelming. Those women of greater experience found the sensations as exotic as they were ecstatic.

Sydney felt the memcorder twisting about in the transcendent’s grasp as zhe induced rolling orgasms in zer fuck toy. The transcendent let out soft moans of pleasure as zhe watched the xeno who was supposed to be highly trained in self control absolutely lose herself in orgasmic bliss.

“OHFUCKINGOWNERGOD!” the memcorder cried out before she crashed and **** the dreamer to awaken.

***

“Damn Syd.” said James.

“Sorry. Do you want to get another Adjinn out of stasis and do another take?” Sydney asked as the neuro technician and some Vyraxis carried the female memcorder to the medical bay, her seizures appearing to get worse.

“Nah.” said James, waving off the suggestion. “I think they got all of the important information and I am sure that they will appreciate the banger of an ending. Besides.” James turned to Reagan. “Someone has finished the humanization sequences for our new aliens.” James kissed his girlfriend. “You are a genius.”

“Don’t praise me just yet.” said Reagan,“Besides, the whole humanimetrics team deserves credit. It really was a group effort, but I know that you are going to love what we did with the nine noses.”

***

Pack Elder Chpkh, or Chipkoh as the name sounded when pronounced out of a humanized mouth, was humming as he walked down the hallway towards the quarters he would be sleeping in this evening. Part of the Knavar wanted to stay up and continue carousing with his crew and enjoy his new body. Chipkoh could not remember the last time he had enjoyed himself so much. The old man had forgotten how good it felt to be young, spry, and strong.

As he had walked through the humanized section, the pack elder had encountered few humans. He saw them from a distance, glancing them as they perused the crowds of xenos, but most of the people that Chipkoh encountered were either his own kind of the alien crew of the Federation ship who had been given leave to mingle with the new supplicants and enjoy the generosity of their lord captain.

It amazed all the Knavar supplicants just how generous his lord was. Chipkoh had discovered that James was going to pay the equivalent of a small fortune to have his Knavar registered to be insured and protected. When Chipkoh arrived at his new home on the planet Arisaka Secundus, he would do so with as much status as an alien could have as a subject of Federation Law. The Knavar supplicants enjoyed a banquet with a menu that stretched the culinary breadth and depth of the Federation. Every recipe in The Seed of Truth’s replicator’s memory banks was fabbed up for the delight of James’s new pet dogs.

It seemed like nearly everything was free, food, clothing, machines, tools, even vehicles much to Chipkoh’s delight could be ordered up and conjured out of thin air which prompted many hours of the most intense skycycle racing Chipkoh had experienced in several decades.

After many hours of racing, drinking, dancing on tables, and earning a few bits playing old folk songs for the A.I.s that they had never heard before, Chipkoh was exhausted and asked the information robot where he was supposed to go to get some sleep.

“Complimentary slumber and regeneration pods are available on all decks. Dranza rooms are for rent at one bit a night, companion rooms are available for as little as two bits. Lord James is offering a half evening with a certified concubine for the special price of nine bits for a half evening.”

Chipkoh broke off a third of one of his links and ordered himself a room for the night.

When he arrived in his room, Chipkoh was surprised that, despite her humanized appearance, the Knavar elder recognized the teenage prostitute. “Cadet Megindi, is that you?”

The eighteen year old girl had not heard her name used by a humanized mouth before. As she looked at the humanized speaker her brain analyzed his face and instinctively intuited what they had looked like before the geneforge had made them closer to The Master Race. “Yimily? Is that you?” Megindi asked.

The question caused Chipkoh to burst out laughing. “Close. It's his grandfather.”

“Elder Chipkoh!” Megindi began to blush. The young girl began to squirm about and look at how she was dressed, in a tight plastic mesh that had been replicated onto her body with the intention of being ripped off when she was about to be used. The young girl tried to cover herself sheepishly with a look of embarrassment.

The old man made young again chortled as he brushed a lock of hair from the girl’s face. “No need for that my dear.” said Chipkoh. “The old rules do not apply anymore. We are not freedom riders anymore. We have found our place in the universe.” Elder Chipkoh looked at Cadet Megindi, his thumb teased her lip. “Nothing done in service to The Master Race is shameful.” Megindi began to suck on the older man’s thumb as the two xenos eyes fell upon the motivational poster hanging from the wall of their Lord and Master with the words ‘be fruitful and multiply’ written in bright friendly letters.

Megindi let out a giggle of delight as Chipkoh ripped off her mesh before kissing the girl with ravenous abandon. The old man burned with a passion he had not felt in years. The more he tasted the lips and tits of a girl young enough to be his granddaughter, the more the pack elder felt her warm humanized skin pressed against his own, the more he wanted to please his lord and master by knocking this whore up with a future slut for the **** market.

***

Shzharp stood in a line with the other virgins who had been singled out as candidates for wife training. The Vyraxis dominatrix’s heels clicked as the creature walked up and down the line of naked nubiles with pure unblemished bodies and an above average engramatic absorption rate. The girls had been told to stand perfectly still as their instructors examined them. Shzharp kept her gaze fixed forward and so could not see which of the girls had sneezed and was now screaming from the tail flogging.

“Understand this, you ignorant xeno cunts. Your lord and Master expects perfection from you. You have been given a rare, precious opportunity to become worth something.

“Being selected to become a xeno wife is one of the highest honors to which any alien can aspire. A xeno wife is accorded the highest levels of dignity and respect a **** can ever gain. The honor which comes with being the mother of human children cannot be overstated.

“Such an honor is not something gained easily. Most of you will not be selected. And know this my sweetlings, there are no second chances. Make one mistake, lose your composure for one second, fail to achieve a passing mark on a single test, and you will be in a cell on the quad sucking xeno cock like THAT!” the last word of the dominatrix’s sentence was punctuated by the THWACK of her whip and the cries of agony from one of the girls.

“No, please. No. No. No! NO!” screamed the girl as the Vyraxis picked the nubile Knavar up by her neck and tossed the teenager through a teleportal with all the contempt of a janitor throwing out the trash.

“Would anyone like to join miss nose scruncher in the failure hole? No? Then I suggest you get running, the last one to finish this run, fails. Move it.” There was a THWACK. Several girls screamed before they took off in the direction the dominatrix had designated. Shzharp began to run like the dead eyed whore with the broken spirit from the dream was chasing her. Shzharp shuddered and tried not to imagine what sorts of horrific abuses such low class whores are **** to endure.

***

Chra had just finished having her face painted when she was placed on a conveyor belt which deposited the eighteen year old girl in a small room with a large bed, a sanitation stall, a replicator, and a woman that Chra instantly recognized. “Mommy!” said the teenage girl.

“Oh my sweet baby girl!” cried out pack sister Zassha as she hugged her oldest daughter. “I am so glad you are here.”

“I am scared mommy.” said Chra

“There is nothing to be scared of, we just have to remember what we are and who we serve.” Zassha caressed her daughter as the two of them looked at the poster of James telling them to be fruitful and multiply when the door opened to admit someone the mother and daughter had never met.

“Mhmmm. Chickanahen room, nice.” said the Ligreon newcomer. “Well look at the pair of you.” The Ligreon man started taking off his clothes as the door shut behind him. “You have the look of a bitch who has only gotten her milage with the same ole guy. And you. Mmmhmmmhmmmmhmm. Of you sweet thing, you look like you have barely any milage at all. Practically a virgin.” The xeno stud licked his lips as he closed the distance between himself and his evening's entertainment.

Zassha pushed her daughter behind her and stood up to the taller, stronger, lean, mean looking cat man and tried her best to give the xeno her meanest mean face while doing her best to ignore the Ligreon’s revolting musk. “You stay away from my daughter or by the void I will...”

Zassha’s words were cut off by the backhand of the Ligreon to the woman’s mouth, sending the Knavar woman to the floor. Chra screamed. The teenager tried to back away from the enormous, violent man. She looked around for somewhere to run, somewhere to hide, but she was trapped with per back pressed to the wall of her prison cell.

“Hey. Shhh. It’s alright.” said the Ligreon. “I do not want to hurt you. But if the pair of you are going to behave like a couple of feral twats, then…” The xeno male sighed. “I suppose you are lucky they paired you with a nice guy like me.”

The teenage Knavar felt the man’s calloused grip around her ankle. The girl was powerless to resist as the Ligreon dragged her into his grasp. “What is your name, sweetling?”

Chra opened her mouth to say her name and what came out was “Cheera.” The girl had moved her lips carefully, as if not entirely sure how to form her own name using the strange humanized lips meant for speaking human languages. “Cheera. My name is Cheera.”

“Such a pretty name for a very pretty girl.” The Ligreon said before he licked the back of the teenager’s ear. “You can call me Miles.” The Ligreon chuckled. The two whores were so fresh that they did not know that all of their customers would call themselves ‘Miles’.

Cheera tried not to cry as Miles started tearing off her plastic mesh, but the Ligreon could see that the young girl was upset. “Hey now. None of that.” said Miles in a calm but serious tone. “Look.” The Ligreon pointed at the poster of their Lord and Master glaring down at them in his dress uniform with the command to ‘Be a good whore; be fruitful and multiply.’ written in bold sylibric blocks. “You know what the right thing to do is.” The Knavar girl wiped away her tears and turned to look at the male she had been commanded to rut.

Cheera began to understand what that procurer had been talking about. This Ligreon disgusted her. The teenager found him to be offensive on so many levels. That did not matter. Cheera’s master had given her a command. The one to whom she belonged wanted her to be a good whore, and a good whore makes her clients happy no matter how crass and degenerate they are.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” said Cheera as she gave the Ligreon her best fake smile.

“That’s a good girl.” said Miles before he continued to remove the whore’s mesh covering.

“Please.” Cheera and her Miles turned towards where Zassha was getting back to her feet. “My baby girl, she is just a…”

“Your baby girl is a whore, just like you. She is here because the masters want her here. They know what she is and what she is worth. Same with you, same with me.” The Ligreon male said. The Knavar mother felt Miles’s vice like grip around her wrist. The woman was afraid that the Ligreon would break her bones. “If you are lucky, they will send you to one of the edutoriums when we get back to Federation space. Or maybe someone with a taste for feral pussy will buy you for zer stable. But right now you are so worthless, they do not even care about keeping your bloodline pure. You are furniture in a two bit room. For the next nine hours I can do anything I want with you as long as you are alive and fucked by the time I leave. The question is, how rough are you going to **** me to get?”

The Ligreon saw the Knavar woman look at the motivational poster, then at her Miles for the evening, the light of defiance having gone out of the woman. The mother was resigned to the fact that she would be **** to watch her daughter, her Cheera, be fucked by this xeno.

The Miles pushed the older woman against the wall and spread her legs. “Age before beauty.” The Ligreon said as he fastened the Knavar’s wrists to a conveniently located pair of wall shackles. “Pay attention little Cheera. After a little mother fucking, you are next.”