The Grand Dominus

A bit less than two decades after the Dominars first arrived on Earth, the Grand Dominus’ ship appeared above the planet. It was huge, black, and sleek, and had there been any unfriendly telescopes left on Earth, they would not have registered its existence.

The Commander of the Dominar Fleet had remained in charge of the newly conquered world over the course of its complete transformation. It been a difficult job, but he had never been nervous as he was now, at what would appear to be his moment of triumph. It was perhaps not apparent to the peoples they had conquered, but the Dominars believed in ceremonies. Just as they had to go through the motions of requesting a choice from the addled former President, now Earth had to be formally brought into the Dominion. Only then could it serve as a springboard for the conquest of even more worlds.

A site was prepared for the ceremony, not at some human monument or city but at as dramatic a physical location as could be found. A platform and surrounding viewing terraces were constructed next to a swift-running river in a green valley in the Himalayas, surrounded by impossibly tall, snow-capped mountains. It had been almost entirely inaccessibly to humans, and thus anonymous, but the dominars had no such limitations. It was here that they would cement their eternal and total domination of this planet, and its former sentient inhabitants, the human race.

On a beautiful summer day, the sky only slightly dimmed by the unchecked pollution of Dominar industry, the terraces filled to observe the ceremony. The Commander waited on the platform, his cock (the largest on the planet for these past years, by virtue of his rank) standing at attention through the opening in the front of his trousers. Several bimbos waited nearby, their heads bowed, their thoughts empty. They were there in case the Commander’s erection faltered, it was considered an essential element of the formal wear of male Dominars.

The Grand Dominus’ transport arrived silently from the sky as he waited, cock at attention. It was a smooth oval, externally flawless and mirrored. It settled at the top of the prepared dais. When it had fully stilled, the walls invisibly retreated, forming a small, black opening.

Out of this came lines of additional male Dominars, perhaps 20 in total. These wore more elaborate uniforms than the Commander, filigreed in platinum. Unlike the Commander, the openings in their pants revealed elaborate cages constraining their cocks. These were the elite guard of the Grand Dominus. They could not be distracted. And only their sovereign could ever free them.

These formed two lines on either side of a shaded pavilion that had been set up next to the river. Then from the opening of the transport came four more figures, carrying a large object between them. This was the Grand Dominus’ throne, made of a strange translucent material, unknown on Earth, which in the Himalayan sun flashed iridescent glimpses of every imaginable color. To the Dominars, this was the most beautiful, valuable substance ever discovered. It could be found on only one planet, orbiting what humans had named Teegarden’s Star, and even there it was rare enough that the economy of the local sentient inhabitants had been based on it. The natives had all been bimbofied, of course, and their planet strip mined to the point that it had destabilized its core and it broke apart. A few milligram’s worth of the substance was valuable enough to buy a mansion on prime real estate in Dominar. The Grand Dominus had an entire throne made out of it.

The throne was carried by four bimbos. While their bodies had all now been twisted into the same shape, with the large round breasts, dripping snatch, and jiggling ass, they were from four different species. One looked mostly like a dark-skinned human, though it had extra eyes on either side of her head in addition to those pointing forward. Another’s skin was greenish, and had a whole series of bulging tits going all the way down her torso, not so different from many other mammals on Earth. A third had gripping, tentacle-like appendages in place of its arms, and its skin actually changed color depending on its environment and emotions. Once the members of this species flashed in an indescribable variety of colors as part of their complex communications, sending messages far into the infrared. These days they spent most of their time colored a vapid bubblegum pink. They didn’t feel much other than pleasure and obedience, or have anything to communicate other than “Yes, Master.”

These four carried the throne quickly to its place at the center of the pavilion and then took spots next to the human bimbos waiting to serve the Fleet Commander if needed, kneeling with heads bowed. None of the bimbos had any thoughts about this first contact between their species. None of them, in fact, had any thoughts any more, just the mantras and instructions pulsed into their brain by their nanites. They still physically could think, at least after a fashion. But after enough years of living as brainless bimbos, subject to the constant stream of mantras, they eventually lost the knack. The nanites picked up the slack as a bimbo’s own thoughts receded, giving her whatever instructions she might need to survive or to fully serve her masters

As for the Fleet Commander himself, his foot and a half-long erection remained strong as ever. Knowing that the Grand Dominus would soon appear, it actually twitched in anticipation.

The final figure to emerge from the transport was a Dominar about eight feet tall. But it was different from the figure of any other Dominar that had yet set foot on Earth. It had two enormous, round, jiggling breasts, wide hips, and an even larger ass. It had long black hair done up into an elaborate hairdo on its head. It was naked except for a drapery across its shoulders, a blend of dozens of metals from as many worlds worked so finely it had become soft cloth, named the Mantle of Dominion. This was the template from which the billions of bimbos on dozens of worlds had been stamped, though they could never match the original. The Grand Dominus stepped alone toward the waiting pavilion, and as she did the entire crowd of Dominars, which had been boisterous up until this point, went absolutely dead silent.

In many aspects of their biology, humans and Dominars were very similar, but in other ways they were very different. The creatures that had eventually evolved into the Dominars were eusocial organisms that organized themselves into hives. Each of these hives had a queen that was the center of all reproduction, surrounded by hundreds of males who were part of a strict caste system. They still operated on something approaching this template, although tweaked by technological and societal advances. It was still true that only one out of 500 or so Dominars was female, and it was this matriarchy that ruled every aspect of Dominar society. They were the sources of not just all political power but pretty much all of Dominar art and culture as well. Most of them still lived on Dominar while they sent the males out to do the nasty business of conquering. But the Grand Dominus, by tradition, had to at least have set foot on a world once for it to be a true part of the Dominion, hence the ceremony.

As a tiny minority of the population, however, the Dominar females jealously guarded their status. Once they had been **** to all be constantly pregnant just to maintain the population, which even with incredibly short gestation periods was a burden that detracted from their many other duties. So when other species with other social models were discovered, they found a solution: give their males pheromones irresistible to non-Dominar females, and then turn every non-Dominar species into stupid, obedient baby-factories.

The bimbofying of worlds accomplished several things, in their view. It, of course, ensured that conquered worlds lacked the capacity for rebellion, and more than that lacked the capacity to ever rival the Dominars in any way whatsoever, just as the Matriarchs had vigilantly guarded against any possible rivals for millennia. It kept the males occupied. It shifted the burden of breeding new Dominars away from their society’s leaders and most talented minds and onto all of these new dumb, worthless objects. Finally, it prevented the males from ever doing anything but absolutely worshiping the Matriarchs. Any diversity the Dominars ran into was quickly reduced to vapid, jiggling flesh superficially similar to a female Dominar, but in reality only a pale imitation. The Matriarchy would brook no rivals.

The Grand Dominus walked slowly in the silence to her throne and sat down. In the sun her pussy juices glistened as they leaked well down her thighs. While other Dominar females did still sometimes have recreational sex with males, it was a grave sin for any sentient creature, male or female, to touch the Grand Dominus in any way, so sacred and essential to their entire civilization she was seen. This did not extend to bimbos, of course, who the Dominars did not consider sentient. In fact, the Grand Dominus’ body teemed with her own nanites, the difference being that she was in complete conscious control of them. Among the many applications of this was that the Grand Dominus could, with a thought, control with precision her exact levels of arousal and pleasure, and if she wished to have an orgasm, she could determine exactly how intense or long it was at her own whim, without the need of a touch from any other being.

The Grand Dominus was not a believer in moderation. She kept herself at a high level of arousal at all times and frequently decided to come while performing her many duties. She also enjoyed being serviced by the bimbos of the many worlds of the Dominion herself, and made a point to keep at least one of each in her official harem. This was less for the pleasure they provided her (which could not match the intensity and precision of that provided by her nanites) but more for the power dynamics of the thing. She enjoyed knowing that she was personally responsible for destroying their species, for erasing every aspect of its history and culture, every achievement of their vibrant civilizations, and remolded it into a pile of dumb, eager flesh that now viewed licking her pussy as the sole reason for its existence.

She looked at the Fleet Commander’s hard cock and half-smirked. She was the reason for his erection, but she would not allow him release. Instead she raised a hand to gain the attention of the crowd, though it was already rapt.

“Dominars, thank you for conquering this planet in my name,” she said, not raising her voice. “You have done well. Let the ceremony begin.”

The crowd broke out into jubilant cheers, echoing off the walls of the mountains.