The Fleet Commander

The former President had greeted many dignitaries in the East Room of the White House in her career. Now she waited there again, this time on her knees, eyes down. The Dominar mantras kept pulsing inside her brain.

“THE DOMINARS ARE MY MASTERS. I AM THEIR ****. I LOVE BEING A DOMINAR ****. I WAS MADE TO BE A DOMINAR ****.”

Suddenly, a stray thought made it through the mantras. It was pretty likely that every single one of those dignitaries were now little cocksucking bimbo with a wet cunt. Most of them were probably pregnant with alien offspring, too. Just like her. She smiled at the thought.

Then the Fleet Commander entered the room, his entourage behind him. These included at least five bimbos of all skin and hair colors, but very all with the usual big tits and asses, claimed by the Commander for his personal service. They waddled in behind him, their stomachs swollen in various stages of pregnancy. The former President, however, barely noticed them. The pheromones of the Commander and his staff, added to those of the Dominars already in the room with her, closed in on her brain, blotting out whatever had been happening there. Drool formed at the corner of her mouth.

Then she glanced up at the Fleet Commander and immediately saw that he had the biggest cock she had ever seen, even on a Dominar. Her breath caught and her mouth fell open. Later, when she could sort of think again, she wondered if the invaders chose their military commanders based on the size of their dicks. The reality was actually sort of the reverse… when one had the ability to change the bodies of themselves and others at will, cock size became a privilege of rank.

The Fleet Commander strode forward to the dais where she waited with her Master. She stared at his gigantic cock the entire way.

Her Master placed his hand on her head, running his large gray fingers roughly through her pink hair. “Commander,” he greeted his superior office in his deep voice. “I am honored to report that, and with your steadfast and wise leadership, in the name of the Great Dominus, we have successfully bimbofied this human nation, which was, prior to our arrival, the most militarily and economically powerful on this planet.”

The Fleet Commander just said, “Such is our destiny.”

Her Master hesitated, the first time she had ever seen him anything less than supremely confident about anything. Then his fingers clenched her hair and dragged her head up.

“Commander, I present designation Red Nitrogen 79, the ruler of this nation. It was determined that this was, at the time of our arrival, the most powerful human on this planet. As you ordered.”

The Commander looked her up and down appraisingly for a beat as her Master held her up by her hair. He noted her vacant stare, the way her tongue hung out of her thick, dick-sucking lips, her enormous, swollen tits, her huge, heavily pregnant belly, her wide hips and plump ass, and the way her glistening cunt had started to leak down her leg.

“Good,” he said. “And she has not been erased? You know the rule.”

“Only the name, to avoid confusion,” said her Master.

The Commander put a single gray finger under her chin and pointed her face up slightly toward his. When he touched her, her clit pulsed. “Red Nitrogen 79, what was your occupation before we arrived?”

She was so fried from cocklust, it felt impossible to speak. But she must. The fog of pheromones overwhelmingly compelled her to obey any Dominar commands. “I-I was President. Of America. I think.”

“Good, and where were you born?”

That cock, it was so close. She could reach out and touch it. “I… in Kansas. I had… parents? And a… sister?”

“She refers to human familial bonds,” said her Master. “One of the many burdens from which we have relieved this species. But you can see, Commander, her past has not been erased.”

“Very well,” the Commander said. “She will do.”

To Red Nitrogen 79’s mild surprise and **** disappointment, the Commander did not use her then and there. Instead, he had her brought to a sleek black Dominar vehicle that whisked the two of them, along with only a few guards, away from the White House, along the city streets. Nor did he use her in the car, either, instead simply instructing her to sit and observe. Without thought, she obeyed, but she was leaking a puddle beneath herself.

She had been brought back and forth from the White House to the Dominar headquarters at the Pentagon several times before, but she had always had a cock down her throat and didn’t have a chance to take in the sights. Most of the central city was in some state of being torn down or built up into new shapes. Dominars generally did not love human buildings, they were always having to duck through doors and everything was too small, and given that humans weren’t going to have any jobs going forward other than being horny fuckdolls, they generally had no use for any pre-existing building that wasn’t either housing or basic infrastructure. The exceptions were the places, like the aforementioned White House and Pentagon, that had some symbolic significance. But even these would likely be torn down before long. Any trace that humans had once ruled Earth would eventually have to go.

Of course, this included all of the various statue of American national heroes that had been scattered thoughout the city. A few of them, however, had been replaced with statues of Dominars, all with proudly erect cocks. Most of these included some version of a bimbo with comically large tits kneeling at their feet, either clutching pathetically at the feet of their overlords or in the act of sucking their dicks.

She was completely baffled by the way the Commander treated her. It was almost as if they were equals. Several times during the ride, he pointed out to her various improvements the Dominars were making to the city. She barely managed to mumble “Yes, Master,” in response.

Soon they arrived at their first destination, a museum on what had once been the open space of the National Mall, now blanketed in Dominar craft of various sizes. An idle thought broke through for her, that it was almost as if the humans had been waiting for the Dominars to come to release them from their misery and left space for them to land. Just like her brain kept telling her.

She had been to the museum a few times, back before she was elected, for fundraisers and that type of thing. It was…different than she remembered it. She wasn’t square how the aliens had done it, but all of the exhibits had been changed somehow. They now told the story of Earth’s long history under the benevolent but firm rule of the Dominars. In art section, the paintings were similar to the ones that been there before, as far as she could hazily remember, but now instead of scenes from the bible or classical antiquity, they depicted naked bimbos, designations stamped on their foreheads, happily serving their overlords. The historical exhibits explained how the Dominars were the highest form of life in the galaxy and created bimbos for purposes of breeding and sexual pleasure.

She wasn’t sure how they’d done it, but she was sure it was something to do with nanobots. She also wasn’t totally sure why they’d done it. They were the only visitors at the museum. Most of the Dominars were off finding the remaining non-bimbofied humans or remaking the face of the globe in their image. And the bimbos were pretty busy too, with all the cocks. But still, the Commander walked through the museum, pointing out all of the ways in which the Dominars had improved the lives of humans. To her, strangely.

Red Nitrogen 47 knew, of course, that none of this had actually happened. Or… she kind of knew. Her own thoughts kept blasting the opposite.

“I AM A BIMBO. I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN A BIMBO. ALL HUMANS HAVE ALWAYS BEEN BIMBOS. THE ONLY PURPOSE OF HUMANS IS TO SERVE DOMINAR COCK. HUMANS WERE CREATED TO SERVE DOMINAR COCK.”

She couldn’t give voice to her doubts about the museum. It wasn’t that she was **** to say anything, it was that she physically couldn’t. Nothing was preventing her from talking. It was more that it took absolutely everything in her to walk around and act semi-normal around the Commander, she couldn’t have opinions, too.

Then the two of them walked into an art exhibit titled "Depictions of the Bimbo Throughout Earth History and Culture," though it was written in the Dominar script, and the former President could not have read the words in any case.

“What do you think, Red Nitrogen 79?” asked the Commander, in front of a display of an Egyptian tomb carving showing a bimbo with heavy eyeliner taking a Dominar cock up her ass. Her mouth hung open in ecstasy. “Does your species not owe mine everything?”

“B-but…” she stammered, her eyes straying back to his huge dick. “I…it…”

“It didn’t really happen this way?” He laughed. It was the first time in all those months that the former President had heard a Dominar laugh. “Of course not. But wouldn’t it be better if it had? What do you see depicted here? Wars? Famines? Unhappiness? Love?” He said this last with particular disdain. “No. All of these have been erased, forever. They never happened. They will never happen again. And isn’t that a good thing?”

She paused for a second, her mouth hanging open again. Then she just nodded, meekly. “Y-yes, Master.”

The Fleet Commander looked the former President up and down again, then put a single, somehow authoritative finger under her chin to tilt her unfocused eyes up toward his. She could feel her knees shaking.

His deep voice, his total assurance, it touched something far inside her, beyond lust, as if he had plucked one of the bowstrings tying her together. Of course the coming of the Dominars was a good thing. Her old life was hazy, but she did remember that she had spent all her time worrying about absolutely everything, especially the fate of the world. Now, it had been decided. In just a few months, the Dominars were getting close to the dream… world peace..

“I can see you will not be much use as a conversational partner until you’ve had my cock inside you,” the Commander said reasonably. “But we do not have a lot of time. Do you wish me to fuck your face?”

No Dominar had ever asked her what she wanted before. She had no idea how to respond. She tried to think, failed, and just said the truth.

“Yes, Master, I would like that very much.”

Shortly thereafter, Red Nitrogen 79 had the Fleet Commander’s enormous cock partially down her throat. He held the back of her head with one powerful hand, completely controlling her movement . She felt like she was about to **** to ****, but somehow she no longer found it an unpleasant feeling. For what felt like hours, every molecule in her being had been screaming to her what her purpose was. Now she was fulfilling that purpose. It was entirely up to her Master whether she would asphyxiate with his cock in her mouth, not her.

Within three minutes, he shot his prodigious load down her gullet. It seemed to go on forever, his cock filling her so completely that she could feel his veins pulsing against the sides of her throat as he came. Then, while he was still shooting into her, the Commander casually said, “Good girl.” This was a trigger, programmed into her by the nanobots. Hearing those words from a Dominar would give her an instant orgasm. So she came hard, her entire body quivering as she moaned on the Commander’s cock.

When he pulled his cock out of her, she collapsed to the floor. She lay there, drooling into the marble floor while her eyes looked up at a large sketch showing a pregnant bimbo, her designation stamped on her forehead, busily sucking cock, and her only thoughts were the mantras.

“I AM A DOMINAR FUCKDOLL. I LOVE TO GET FUCKED BY DOMINAR COCK. I LOVE TO **** ON DOMINAR COCK. I AM JUST A SET OF HOLES FOR DOMINARS TO FUCK.”

“Do you feel clearer now?” the Commander asked her, with what seemed almost like genuine concern.

“Yes, Master,” she answered blankly.

“Good.” With that, he grabbed her pink hair and easily pulled her to her feet. She followed him out of the museum toward their next destination, her face and the top of her tits still covered in her own spit.