Gillian's Peril

The light was somehow warm and cold all at once, and she felt dizzy, like she was having some sort of dream or out of body experience. One minute she was floating through a dream where she thought she had seen John get disentigrated by a flying saucer after having seen his house blow up, and the next she was... Here.

Wherever here was.

She tried to bring her hands up to rub the sleep from her eyes but found that she was unable to move them. They hurt and tingled like they had been asleep. That was odd. She looked around then and realized she wasn't in her bed. As a matter of fact, she wasn't in a bed at all, or even in what she'd call a house. She was surrounded by walls that looked like grated stainless steel. Cold white lights shined down on her.

And she was completely naked.

She wiggled and tried to gain control of her muscles so that she could cover her C cup breasts and the tiny tuft of hair that punctuated the top of her sex, but her body was locked in place by something. The cold hardened her nipples into something akin to large pencil erasers.

Then she discovered she couldn't protest, call for help, or even scream.

Something strolled along beside her.

<She awakens.> The creature said, but to who, or what, she did not know. It was roughly mansized, maybe a touch shorter, it's skin gray green and bulging with muscles and veins. A bulbous head the size of a bucket sat on top of its shoulders.

<Good. I like it when they're aware.> Another voice said. She couldn't see where this one came from, but it was alike enough to the first one that she knew it had to be the same type of creature.

"Where am I?" She said aloud, tilting her head to the first creature, the one she could see. She could have sworn it smiled. A hand, pointed with four digits, three fingers and a thumb, each punctuated with a suction cup, reached up to stroke her forehead and then across her chest, breasts, and came to rest on the flat of her belly. It gave her a gentle, almost loving pat.

<Aboard our ship.> It, she thought 'he', said. <While we do apologize for our rough treatment of you and your planet, we are, unfortunately, obligated to continue on with our conquest. Our species depends on it.>

"Depends on what?" Her skin pickled with goosebumps. She was scared, but the fact that it could talk to her and, to some extent, emphasize with her treatment, made her relax, though only a little.

<Your planet.> The alien replied. His hand continued over the small of her tummy and hooked one of her lusious thighs before parting them ever so slightly. <Or, more precisely, you.>

"Me?"

<Not YOU, per say, your species, and the females most specifically. We have been left unable to breed for a long, long time. Galactic contagion is a fickle thing. The High Council is completely against a lower life form for progeneration of the species, though you will have to do. Your kind is at least sentient, aware of itself. Has morals, hygiene standards, that sort of thing.>

Gillian's eyes must have been at least half of her face as they sprang open. Breeding? Progeneration? She squirmed against her restraints again, whatever they were, but found she was unable to pry herself up off the table.

<Keep fighting, girl. Makes my job fun!> The other creature said from out of her view. She heard a button mashed, and then saw an apparatus overhead move. A long syringe, some six inches in length, lowered itself down over her navel. It was followed by a tube that came down and then rotated around to a horizontal position above the gap of her thighs. <Can't lie, don't want to do it the old fashioned way, even as much as the Council wants me to. So, you're getting the machine for now.>

The tube filled with green slime and several yellow golf ball sized orbs. Something dripped from the end of the needle as it was prepared.

<You're going to feel a pinch, followed by heat, and then swelling.> The one next to her said. He opened her legs a little wider with his hand and then patted her belly again...