Katya, a "Survivor" of the First Wave

At the beginning, there had been five of them in the bunker. It had originally been Katya that found it, while looking for a place in their office building to take a smoke break that didn’t involve going out into the Siberian winter. She had immediately shown it to her one friend at the office, Mikhail, and after that, the two of them made it a sort of project to fix the place up.

Their building, it turned out, had one of those Cold War era bunkers beneath it, back when people spent a lot of time worried about nuclear war. Katya didn’t actually think anything was going to happen, but you never knew these days, and it was more fun trying to outfit a fallout shelter than it was trying to run HR for an office supply sales company in freakin’ Novosibirsk.

She had often wondered how her life had come to this. She had wanted to be a ballerina once. She still had the build: slight, flat-chested, long legs and straight red hair. But she had not ended up a star, she had ended up in a run-down office of slightly **** salespeople in what she thought of as a crappy town in the middle of nowhere.

Their new project also gave her time to hang out with Mikhail, which was a big plus. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her husband, Yevgeny. She did. He was just so tired from his job at the factory all the time, and he’d gained weight over the years. She had needs. She wasn't going to do anything with Mikhail, she wasn’t that person, but having the option even slightly open made her feel better about herself, somehow. Yevgeny never even took her to the local ballet, but Mikhail had joked about how the two of them should go together sometime. They wouldn’t, she knew that, but it was nice to think about while the two of them worked on cleaning up the bunker during their off-hours. Yevgeny didn’t notice anyway. He mostly just worked, drank, and slept.

Eventually, the two of them needed some help with wiring and other technical aspects, and so they brought in the office IT guy, Dmitri, to help on their project. He had acne and gorged himself on cheap snacks, but he was nice enough, enthusiastic, and really knew his stuff. He claimed to be able to get Katya anything she wanted on the Dark Web, and she believed him. He had also apparently built his own home PC, and had no trouble giving them the help they needed.

Unfortunately, they hadn’t actually managed to finish their project by the day when everything went haywire. They had only managed to bring in enough supplies for a few months, not the many years the shelter was designed for. But it was better than nothing, and when the government started to issue urgent warnings to stay inside, and then, even more ominously, suddenly went quiet, she exchanged a few WhatsApp messages with Mikhail and Dmitri and they all agreed to meet at the bunker.

She brought Yevgeny, of course, and Mikhail brought his wife, Anna, who Katya had maybe met once at an office party. The woman wasn’t entirely unattractive, but she came off to Katya as dowdy, sullen. She got the sense that Anna and Mikhail’s families had known each other before they did, and they got together because there wasn’t much else to do. That kind of think happened in Novoskibirsk. She certainly didn’t see what he saw in her. But Mikhail doted on Anna, and Katya had other stuff to worry about at this point besides wishing she and Mikhail could be with people other than their current spouses.

The five of them shut the door, determined to wait out whatever was happening, then spent the next few weeks eating terrible canned borscht while they listened with increased depression on Dmitri’s little generator-powered radio to the world end outside, in a way they had never considered. The aliens had finally shown up and it turned out they wanted, not to kill everyone, but to turn the whole human race into some sort of sexy parody of women.

So they stayed there, all up in each other’s business 24/7, stepping on each other’s toes in a cramped space while the world ended outside. At one point, she and Yevgeny had a screaming fight about what direction the toilet paper went on the roll. Anna stayed in one corner, eternally knitting some sweater. The woman could have brought anything to the apocalypse and she had brought yarn.

For the first couple weeks, Dmitri was able to find other little pockets of “survivors” on his radio pretty frequently. That was what they called each other, though what the rest of the world was suffering was not ****. It was a fate that, most of the time, Katya would say was far worse. But late at night, as Yevgeny snored loudly next to her in a bed that was not big enough for two people, she had other thoughts about how it would feel to become one of the aliens’ creations. After a couple of weeks of listening to accounts of what was going on outside, she touched herself to secret thoughts of how it would feel to be a big-titted cocksleeve. Maybe Mikhail would notice her then.

Dmitri, **** to do something, anything, daydreamed aloud about what he could do with the smallest sample of the alien nanobots. Maybe he could reverse engineer them, send some kind of destructive signal… but, as the rest of them pointed out, this was real life, not Independence Day, and even if it were a possibility, it would be far too dangerous to allow even the tiniest sample of the bots into the bunker. With this last point, at least, he grudgingly agreed.

Then, one by one, the other voices on the radio were snuffed out. At the same time, the extent of their own predicament slowly became clear. It had only been three weeks, but they were out of food. In order for them to live much longer, someone was going to have to go outside to get supplies, and then keep doing it.

After a great deal of discussion, it was eventually decided that the first expedition outside would involve Katya, Yevgeny, and Mikhail. They were the most physically capable, and there were only three gas masks. They knew that standard gas masks were apparently entirely ineffective against the alien nanobots, but it seemed like a good idea to wear them anyway. They had no idea what else the invaders had been pumping into the atmosphere.

The three of them emerged from the bunker with no idea what they would find. According to the reports they were getting, some of the world’s major cities were already being torn down and remade in the Dominars’ image. But the Novosibirsk they found was mostly intact, the streets just as they remembered them, except for the fact that they were entirely empty, of both vehicles and people. The silence of the city was incredibly eerie.

There was one change, which was the massive Dominar ship towering over the city center. It looked like it was parked right in Student Brigades Square, but they didn’t go close enough to check.

Instead, the three of them made a beeline to the nearest market. It wasn’t even locked. The food was all still on the shelves, there was no evidence of any problems or unrest. The fresh-ish fruits and vegetables were now mostly rotting, but the nonperishable items all seemed good. What had the bimbos been eating? There would be plenty of time to worry about that later. They grabbed as much as they could carry as quickly as they could, and began to hurry the four blocks back to the bunker.

It was Mikhail who first noticed the strange pink fog swiftly closing in on them from down the street to the North, riding a chill wind. They had known this was a danger. Other groups on the radio had warned them of roving bot swarms, left over from the initial invasion, ready to sweep up any remaining survivors. Whether their movements were random or a specific, directed search pattern was unknown.

All three of them took off running, trying to escape the fog rolling in on them. At first, Katya thought they were all going to get away. But Yevgeny was out of shape, and he was carrying the vodka he had insisted on grabbing at the market. He began to lag slightly behind, then tripped on a crack in the sidewalk. Katya turned to see her husband reaching out toward her, the pink cloud just about to close around him.

She turned to go back, but Mikhail caught her by the arm. “We can’t save him!” he yelled. “He’s gone! We have to keep going.

At his insistence, Katya turned and continued to flee, leaving Yevgeny behind as the pink cloud engulfed him. Mikhail dragged her along behind him, a hand clamped around his wrist. They turned a corner into a side street, and Katya turned her head to look behind her. She didn’t see the cloud on the main road anymore.

“Wait, we have to go back,” she insisted, pulling away. “We have to go back for him.”

“No, Katya, wait…” Mikhail got out, but she was already running back the way they came.

She peeked around the corner at the far end of the side street. The bot swarm had already dissipated. Instead, she saw a figure lying in the middle of the road. It didn’t look like Yevgeny. It looked like a blonde bimbo with huge tits. She was wearing what used to be Yevgeny’s clothes, though she had already pulled off the shirt that her new enormous tits had burst open.

“I’m nothing but a stupid fucking bimbo!” the girl in the street screamed out, a hand stuck into her jeans, rubbing furiously. “I’m a **** for Dominar cock! I exist to serve Dominar cock!”

In that moment, watching her former husband, now the cheapest-looking whore she could imagine, masturbate while yelling out mantras of devotion to the invaders and their huge dicks, Katya felt pure horror. She was also getting very wet.

Then she felt Mikhail’s hand on her shoulder. “Yevgeny’s gone,” he said. “That’s not him anymore.”

The two of them ran back toward the bunker as fast as they could. Behind them, the new bimbo had her first orgasm as a girl, and screamed at the top of her lungs.