Many Years Hence

It had been several years since the Dominars had arrived on Earth. How many years, the humans could not know. The nanites had deleted their abilities to read or understand clocks and, perhaps more importantly, none of them missed these things. They were all bimbos, their purpose was to serve the Dominars and their incredible cocks, to be bred, and to orgasm when the Dominars ordered them to. That was, as far as they knew, how it had always been. Nearly all of human achievement and civilization was completely forgotten in favor of being brainless little pregnant cumsluts.

All of the adult humans of Earth were eventually turned into bimbos. The last was a survivalist in the Australian Outback, a Roger Blake. When the invasion first landed he went “off the grid” and lived alone in the wilderness for five years. He had never made any attempt to communicate with the outside world. He had long since admitted to himself that he had almost been hoping something like this would happen, so he could live the life he really wanted. And for the most part he did, for at least a decade.

But the Dominars had been aware of Roger for some time before they collected him. It was just that they had a lot going on, what with completely rebuilding the planet and impregnating all the bimbos. It was only when preparations began in earnest for the Great Dominus’ ceremonial visit to Earth that forces were sent to tie up any loose ends.

Rather than risk any Dominar lives with a guy who almost certainly had firearms, they simply fired several long-range missiles at Roger’s compound. When these missiles hit they released, not explosions, but large amounts of pink nanite gas, which flooded an area of several miles in the middle of the night. When Dominar forces moved in they found Roger, still in bed in his locked home, but now having fully transformed into a bimbo with long blond hair and huge tits. They found her masturbating furiously, the jizz from Roger’s balls emptying during the transformation still covering her stomach.

When the first three Dominar soldiers entered Roger’s bedroom, they opened the flaps in the front of their uniform pants, exposing their hardening cocks. Roger saw this and immediately scrambled to service them. As the first Dominar cock entered her mouth, the feeling of finally fulfilling her purpose, the purpose of the human race, overwhelmed all conscious thought.

This left only the mantras pulsed into her own thoughts by the nanites as she choked on the huge cock. “I WAS MADE THE SERVE THE DOMINARS. I HAVE ALWAYS SERVED THE DOMINARS. I LIVE FOR DOMINAR COCK. ALL HUMANS LIVE FOR DOMINAR COCK. ALL HUMANS HAVE ALWAYS LIVED FOR DOMINAR COCK. ALL HUMANS WILL ALWAYS LIVE FOR DOMINAR COCK.”

The Roger that had been was gone very soon, and within an hour she was made to forget her name and instead given the designation of Brown Silicon 97. This appellation was permanently tattooed on her forehead in Dominar so that no one would ever have to remember it. She did not know it, but Roger's had been the last human name on the planet.

Following her processing, she was placed on a transport along with four dozen other naked bimbos, all waiting with supreme docility to reach their destinations. Each was placed in a small, comfortable alcove, where a dildo pistoned pleasantly and continuously in and out of their pussies, while their minds were blank except for their mantras. The only other item in each alcove was a tube the approximate length and width of your average Dominar cock which, when sucked sufficiently, would produce a small amount of the enriched water through which the Dominars provided their bimbos with all necessary nourishment. Brown Silicon 97 would never eat solid food again her life, but she would remain pleasingly plump in all the right places on a diet of water and Dominar cum.

The Australia the transport flew over was much changed, the planet’s new overlords being in the midst of strip mining most of its land mass for its mineral resources. The Dominars had no other use for the planet itself, and its inhabitants no longer had opinions worth considering, in their view. But there was still an area of incredibly large, low buildings where cities like Sydney or Brisbane had once been. Many of these were the Pregnancy Barracks, where the many, many bimbos who were currently pregnant with Dominar spawn and not currently in direct service to the Dominars themselves lived.

But there were other large buildings for the remaining bimbos who fit neither of these descriptions. These were stark and featureless from the outside, other than the occasional door. The Dominars engaged in stylistic considerations when designing their own buildings, but for the most part considered this effort wasted on the lesser species.

The interior of these behemoths was made up entirely of row after row and floor after floor of identical small rooms, delineated from each other by completely clear walls, floors, and ceilings. The bimbos had no need for privacy, of course, and this enabled the Dominars to view each of them from their cameras with a far smaller expenditure on technical resources. This was less for security reasons (the Dominars were, correctly, very certain that the humans were entirely under their control), but rather so that Dominars looking for a new bimbo could peruse the available merchandise.

It was to one of these complexes that Brown Silicon 97 was initially sent. Each tiny room consisted of the same meager facilities: A bed, a chair, a toilet, a water dispenser similar to that provided on the transport, and a small area for exercise, with a treadmill and a few other items. If the bimbos required entertainment, it was beamed by the nanites directly into their visual cortex, and consisted almost entirely of either commands to orgasm or records of bimbos being fucked by Dominar cocks. They never left their rooms until they were either designated for impregnation or selected as a personal bimbo by a Dominar. When such selection did occur, the nanites provided the information directly to their empty brains and the bimbo’s door opened. She would then docilely follow a designated path to the exit, where an automated transport would be already waiting to whisk her to her destination.

Despite their abject and total servitude, Dominars referred to their property as “bimbos,” not “slaves.” To call the humans slaves would have implied that they were, in fact, sentient beings. They were not. They were objects, used for purposes of breeding and entertainment.

But Roger was not the last male human. After all, when the Dominars arrived, there were hundreds of millions of underage humans (what had once been called “children”) all over the Earth. Per the tradition of the Dominars, these humans were infected with nanites, as well, but received only mental rather than physical changes until they came of age. Those who had been infants at the time of the invasion were not finally processed until many years later, when they were old enough.

When the Great Dominus’ traditional visit to the newly conquered planet neared, the youngest class of humans, the last to be converted, was also readied to be part of the ceremony.