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X-Original-Subject: Some Annoying Aliens (mc, nc, hyp, mff, fd, md, ft, humil, humor, mast, bdsm, fu
Subject: {ASSM} Some Annoying Aliens Ch. 2 (mc, hyp, nc, mff, fd, md, ft, humil, humor, mast, bdsm, furry, robots, sf)
Date: Sat, 30 Sep 2000 21:10:02 -0400
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Some Annoying Aliens (mc, nc, hyp, mff, fd, md, ft, humil,
humor, mast, bdsm, furry, robots, sf)
Copyright 2000 by Chew Toy (wellgnawed@hotmail.com)
WARNING: The usual disclaimers and warnings apply.
The characters in this story have sex; if that offends
you or for some reason you are Not Allowed to read about
such things, stop now. The events in this story might not
be moral or even possible; the point is to give you a hot
fantasy, not a blueprint for life.
---
CHAPTER TWO
---
Sandra Bayle, an eighteen-year-old sophomore math and
physics double major with a 4.0 average and a classload
that intimidated most graduate students, hummed absently
to herself as she poked through her closet looking for
clothes to wear on her evening date.
A 4.0 average and not a single really nice blouse, she
thought to herself, absently pushing her glasses back into
place and sighing in frustration.
"Gina?" she called to her dormmate in the next bedroom
over. "You know that white shirt you wore on your date
with Bob a couple weeks ago? Do you think that would
look good on me?"
Faint scrubbing noises grew louder as Gina ducked her
head into the room and raised an eyebrow at Sandra while
continuing to brush her teeth. "I hink ih oulg gig aaa
e-- huze he." Gina ducked back out of sight, followed
by spitting noises. Her head reappeared sans brush. "I
think it would give all the guys in your class heart
attacks. Since when do you wear anything that shows your
bellybutton?"
"You think I would look dumb?" Sandra frowned.
"I think you would look *hot*. It's just not the sort
of thing you usually wear. What's the occasion?"
Sandra smiled shyly, suddenly unable to meet Gina's
eyes. "Oh, I've, um... got a date..."
"Woo! Who's the lucky stud?"
"Well... do you remember John Park from English last
year?"
Gina's eyes widened a bit, and she paused before
speaking. "I'm not sure. I remember a stoner type named
John Park, who always looked as if he'd slept in a
dumpster somewhere and just woken up in time to run to
class. Was there another John Park?"
Sandra looked away sheepishly. "I guess he is kinda
scruffy... but I dunno, there's just something about him.
I ran into him in the hall today, and I... I guess I
never realized how *sexy* he is." She blushed. "So when
he asked me out..."
Gina put her hand on Sandra's forehead. "Are you
feeling all right, girl? No fever or anything?"
Sandra pushed her hand away, laughing. "I'm fine!
Just..."
"-- horny." Gina finished for her. Sandra blushed.
"Well, I always say you need to get out more. If
'scruffy' is what does it for you, I *know* I can find a
few scruffy boys to take your mind off studying once
you're tired of John Park."
"Always looking out for me, are you?"
"You know it, girl."
"So can I borrow your shirt?"
"You *have* got it bad, haven't you?"
Sandra looked away again, her mind going back to the
moment in the hallway when she'd seen John, and suddenly
he'd seemed so... irresistable. She bit her lip.
"Ok, you can borrow my shirt."
--
"It's all right to look at my cleavage, Deke."
Across the galaxy from Sandra's dating woes, the
handsome, upcoming young scout ship pilot, already a
decorated hero for his service on the frontier, looked
up in guilty surprise at the words of Princess Thrrmm.
The Princess chuckled. "I'm quite proud of my breasts;
there's no reason you shouldn't look at them. Would you
like to see them a bit more closely?" She stood and
walked over to the couch where Deke perched awkwardly.
Inhaling deeply, Princess Thrrmm struck a pose.
Deke looked as if he might bust a vein, but he stared
avidly at the Princess's three gorgeous pairs of mammaries,
artfully revealed and emphasized by her half-shirt's
billowing folds of silk.
As he stared at her chest, Princess Thrrmm thoughtfully
eyed his crotch. Unbeknownst to the hapless scout pilot,
their date for this evening's soiree was not the first time
he had visited the Princess's chambers. On his first visit,
her robotic handmaiden, Genari, had started Deke on a
careful program of brainwashing, using drugs and certain
illegally obtained information regarding previous mental
conditioning Deke had undergone in the scout service.
Though there hadn't yet been time for the full course, he
had responded well to the early stages, and the Princess
was pleased to note the obvious physical excitement with
which he'd responded from the moment she walked in the room.
"Do you like what you see?" she purred, knowing that he
most certainly did.
"Oh... ah... yes, Your Highness," Deke stammered.
"You may refer to me as 'My Princess' if you like, Deke."
"Yes, My Princess-- Ah!" Deke gasped.
If the programming held, Deke would feel a brief wave of
pleasure whenever he said that phrase to her. Princess
Thrrmm resolved to make him say it *many* times over the
course of the evening-- his expression of slightly
overwhelmed surprise was terribly charming.
"I'm so glad to hear that," the Princess continued.
"And now I think we'd best be off if we want to make it in
time for dinner. Shall we?" She held out her hand for
Deke to take.
Deke stared at her hand, his eyes growing even wider.
*Oh, he is SUCH fun!* the Princess thought to herself. Her
outstretched hand was just a slight movement away from a
gesture that his subconscious mind was now programmed to
recognize, that would make him drop to his knees at her feet.
A slight movement away... and she could see the awareness of
it trickling through his mind at some level, as she looked
into his eyes. *He's thinking about kneeling, but he doesn't
know why. Let him think he's just excited about holding my
hand. Oh, I'm going to enjoy this. Genari, I almost forgive
you.*
Slowly Deke took her hand, turned, and dazedly led her out
the door.
--
In the Princess's bedroom, Genari the robot lay on the bed,
suffering her punishment. The customized sexbot had taken
to Deke's training a little too enthusiastically, and in a
fit of pique Princess Thrrmm had locked the robot in a
continuous orgasm mode, until her batteries ran down or the
Princess forgave her. It wasn't an especially unpleasant
punishment, on the whole-- though several of the Princess's
other servants were aware of this punishment and would sneak
in to use Genari's unresisting body for their own personal
gratification at such times, a practice the Princess tacitly
encouraged. But as a sexbot Genari was quite difficult to
genuinely humiliate.
The most distressing aspect from the robot's point of view
was that some engineer, no doubt in a moment of drunken stupor,
had seen fit to place a power coupling in an intimate part of
her anatomy, and during her punishment times her quivering,
defenseless form appeared as an outlet to the household power
grid. So after the cook and the delivery boy had gotten their
jollies between her legs, the vacuum cleaner and the dusting
robots would be plugging themselves into the same holes,
looking for a recharge.
She hoped it was good for them too.
--
Whistling a happy tune, John Park jauntily strolled home, a
boy and his mind-control ray.
Visions of his upcoming date with the babelicious Sandra
Bayle danced through his head. "I'm high as a kite, I just
might, stop to check you out..." he hummed to himself.
Really, now that he was likely to be soon faced with the
prospect, he wasn't *all* that sure what he'd do with a
nubile young woman at his complete command, but it was such
a cool idea to contemplate that he really wasn't too
worried about the lack of specifics. He was sure he could
come up with a few things.
Maybe he'd have her try out some of the poses he'd seen
in the April issue of Hot Chicks Holding Power Tools Monthly
that his roommate Tony kept under his mattress. And then...
do what comes naturally. "Lemme go oo-oooonnn...."
"Bang! Bang! You're dead!" yelled a little kid running
out from behind a bush, waving a day-glo yellow cap gun in
John's direction.
"Bang! You're a frog!" John said back, zapping the kid
with the mind-control ray gun he'd earlier used on Sandra.
The tow-headed waif blinked, dropped his toy pistol, and
blinked again. "Ribbit," he said quietly. Dropping to a
crouch with his hands on the ground, he turned and hopped
away from John.
"When I'm a-walkin', I strut my stuu-uuff..." hummed John,
continuing smugly home.
--
Gina Colanno, Sandra's short but curvaceous dark-haired
roommate, stretched luxuriously as she unhooked her bra.
Gently easing her D-cup breasts out of their confinement
and massaging each a bit in her hand as she pulled the lacy
cup away, Gina thought ahead to her upcoming workout. 10
laps around the track and then down to the weight room for
a short set today-- her workout partner Lakshmi was off
studying this evening-- unless she could find someone else
to spot her. Maybe that delectable Gary Carlisle-- he
sometimes worked out alone-- was he scruffy enough to catch
Sandra's interest? She could try to set them up, get her
away from that loser John Park...
*Pity Sandra doesn't swing the other way,* Gina thought,
*or I might make a play for her myself.* But her tentative
inquiries in that direction at the beginning of the year
had led nowhere, and Gina had resigned herself to simply
setting Sandra up with a likely lad or two. Even that
hadn't borne much fruit-- Sandra seemed much more interested
in studying than partying, and Gina had just about given
up all hope of good-natured romantic meddling until this
thing with John.
*And she did look positively ravishing in my shirt* Gina
thought, licking her lips as she recalled the sight. Her
nipples stiffened in the cold air, and she rubbed one
gently, chuckling at herself, as she tossed the frilly
black brassiere into her locker and pulled out her shiny
spandex sports bra.
There was a rustling noise behind her. Gina spun around,
breasts bouncing, snatching the small fold of fabric to her
chest in a vain attempt to cover her wayward bosom. "Who's
there?" she called out.
Silence.
Peering around, Gina saw no-one else in the locker room.
"Hello?"
*Probably mice* she thought finally. Still, she quickly
slipped on her top, settled her boobs into place, and shut
her locker. Still peering around cautiously, she headed
out into the gym for her run.
--
A minute after Gina left the locker room, the rustling
resumed from a locker near hers. It changed into a clanging
noise, stopped abruptly-- silence for a long moment-- then
back to clanging and rattling in earnest.
"Stupid mechanical closures on this stupid *fucking*
planet..." came a muttering from inside the locker, as the
violent noises continued almost in a rhythm.
Frrbnglrr the alien spy, minion of Princess Thrrmm,
thrashed about with increasing irritation, trying to escape
the locker he'd hidden in when Gina first came in to change.
At the time, it had seemed like an excellent place to
observe nubile young Earth females in their natural habitat.
He could pick out a few for the stable of his Princess (to
collect once he'd recovered the missing mind-control device),
perhaps acquire a sample of Earth female intimate apparel
for his own... guilty pleasures...
But there just weren't enough good places to hide in this
inconsiderately-designed changing room. And in hindsight,
the inside of one of these formerly-inviting-looking metal
cabinets turned out to be one of the worst.
He thrashed a bit harder, as one hand felt around the
edge of the door frustratedly seeking a way to manipulate
the catch. *If another female were to come in and open
this cabinet, and FIND me here...* he thought to himself.
How embarassing that would be. His cock swelled at the
thought of the humiliation he would suffer, and he
thoughtfully maneuvered his other hand down towards it, as
best he could in the confined space, even as he continued
to rattle at the door of the locker...
"So I'm, like, totally sweating and grunting and he says,
you know you could move down to the 20-pound dumbells and
do more than 10 reps and I'm like, but these match my
*outfit* and-- hey, did you hear something?"
Frrbnglrr froze at the voices entering the locker room.
More Earth females. Damn. He resigned himself to another
tense period of trying not to make any noise inside the
locker. Worrying that at any moment he might by chance be
discovered. And seeing how quietly he could slip his hand
inside his trousers...
--
"So, is this your latest toy?" a violet-haired woman
with oddly irridescent skin asked Princess Thrrmm, as Deke
gathered drinks for the three of them from a passing servant.
Lying back on a divan opposite the Princess's seat, the violet
tressed beauty completely ignored the opulent anteroom around
the trio, fixing a lascivious eye on Deke's muscular young
body. She continued, openly ogling the handsome pilot as he
returned with his burden. "Do you have him trained yet? Are
you going to... loan him out? Your last beau performed *very*
well for me."
Concealing most of his shocked surprise, Deke nevertheless
shot a curious look at the Princess. She touched his arm
reassuringly.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Ssalea. But I
do think you're being rather... *forward*."
Still looking Deke up and down, Ssalea licked her lips.
"Oh, come on, you know what I mean. That thing you taught
Madren to do with his fingers was quite artful. And he was
*so* biddable after you finished the..." seeing the look in
the Princess's eye, she trailed off.
"Really, Ssalea, you're being quite insulting. And I do
*not* like what you are implying about my date."
Seeing the storm clouds gathering, Ssalea hastily tried to
backpedal. "I'm sorry, my Princess, I didn't mean to--"
"I think you should PRESENT yourself to Deke for punishment."
At the word "present" Ssalea shuddered, shooting a desperate
look sideways at Deke, who looked on in confusion. Her hands
reached down and grabbed the hem of her dress, pulling it
up over her head and tossing it aside even as she looked down
at what she was doing in apparent horror. Jerkily she slid
off the divan and crouched on the floor in front of Deke, now
naked except for a necklace and a pair of low spike-heeled
shoes, her forehead touching the floor, legs spread slightly
apart, and her ass thrust high in the air, reaching up to
Deke's mid-thigh as he stood there bewildered.
The young pilot's mouth opened as he turned towards
Princess Thrrmm, but he had no idea what to even begin to
ask.
"She insulted both of us, Deke. You must spank her. She
will learn her place."
Deke's eyes shifted over to look at Ssalea's naked bottom,
quivering as she held it up towards him. He looked back at
the Princess.
She made a gesture that he didn't quite catch, and his
eyes seemed to lock onto hers. "Spank her, NOW. Hard.
Put your back into it."
*Oh, right. I have to spank her hard,* Deke thought. He
turned to Ssalea's ass and raised a hand.
He was young, and in excellent shape. The first blow left
an angry red handprint on her tender irridescent flesh, and
slid Ssalea two meters across the tiled floor. She bit back
a sob.
A satisfied smirk on her face, Princess Thrrmm lay back
on the couch to watch, as Deke stepped forward to spank
Ssalea again on a bottom that was already starting to bruise
purple from his first blow.
"Count for me, Ssalea," the Princess called out.
--
Coming back into the locker room after her workout, Gina
heard the rustling noise again. No, it wasn't just a
rustling noise, it was a clanging-- oh, a locker, someone
else in the room.
"Hi! You scared-- oh, fuck!" she said, coming around the
corner and seeing Frrbnglrr, standing in the middle of a row
of open lockers, his arms full of women's underwear.
They stared at each other for a second. Then he took off
running.
"Hey! Hey, you fuck, what the fuck do you think you're
doing?" Gina started to chase after him as he dashed out
of the locker room. By the time she reached the door he was
out of sight on the staircase. She started down the stairs,
heard the emergency exit door at the bottom clang open and
shut.
"Fuck," she said, and trudged downstairs to report the
intruder to the front desk.
--
At 8:20, John Park pulled a new red Corvette that his
next-door neighbor would never miss into the parking
lot near Sandra's dorm. This mind-control ray was just
more fun all the time.
Asking the girl at the dorm's front desk to call up
for Sandra, John stood in a corner of the lobby tapping
his foot. *Wonder what I could make HER do?* he thought,
eyeing the desk girl's breasts. She saw his stare and
turned away, irritatedly flipping through a textbook.
"Hi, John!" said Sandra breathlessly, coming down the
stairs. She was excited from running down the stairs,
she told herself; that's what was making her face hot.
Not thinking back to earlier in the afternoon...
Though John's appearance seemed calculated to remind
her, since he didn't seem to have changed clothes since
then. Or showered, she noticed, coming a bit closer.
She wrinkled her nose briefly. Well, but he was still
sexy, right?
"Hot damn!" said John when he saw her. Since when
did Sandra wear anything that showed her belly? Trust
the ol' mind-control ray to bring out the best in a
chick.
"Hi," said Sandra again, smily shyly. "Um, so where
to?"
"Oh, that's my little secret," John said, looking her
up and down with gleeful possessiveness. "Follow me,
and I'll show you."
"Ok..." replied Sandra, wavering between flattered
and disturbed by his frank stare. *I guess this is
what I wanted him to do, right?* she thought to herself.
"Hey, I didn't know you had a car," said Sandra as
John led her out to where he'd parked it. *I certainly
didn't know he had an expensive car* she thought.
*Maybe he's just come into a lot of money, and I've
fallen under the mysterious mind-control spell that
rich men seem to have that makes supermodels fall all
over them. I always figured it was just greed, but
maybe it's some weird psychic thing that you just
suddenly get when you have a lot of money.* She
chuckled wryly to herself.
"Oh, yeah, I just got this today," John replied.
*Bingo*! Sandra thought. She suppressed a giggle.
John noticed her smile. "You like it?" he asked
happily.
"It's um, very flashy. I'm supposed to drape myself
on the hood, right? Like this?" Suiting action to
word, she hopped up on the hood of the car and lay
down, leaning her head back and stretching her body
from headlights to windshield in near-exact duplication
of the centerfold pose from the July issue of Hot
Chicks Lounging On Sports Cars Monthly. John's eyes
bugged out.
"Well? What do you think?" Sandra asked, smiling.
"Uhhhh... yeah, that looks really good on you. Or
you look... um, it looks good."
"Thanks." Sandra grinned again, and hopped off
the hood. "May I enter your celebrated new vehicle,
then?" she asked, looking from the door to John.
"Huh? Uh... sure." John unlocked the passenger-
side door, then walked around and got in the driver's
side as Sandra climbed in.
"Hey, what's this? Your ray gun?" asked Sandra,
picking up the mind-control ray from the passenger
seat where John had left it. John turned pale.
"It, uh, not, it's nothing," he stammered out.
"Looks like a great toy," Sandra said, sighting
down the barrel at a tree outside the window.
"NO! Um, I mean, yeah, it does this cool thing,
let me show you," John sputtered, grabbing for the
ray gun. Sandra allowed him to snatch it out of
her grasp, and he immediately turned it on her and
pulled the trigger.
"SLEEP!" he said. "You will sleep until we get
to my house. You will not remember the ray gun.
When you wake up you will be totally hot for me
and will do anything I say." He eased off the
trigger, and Sandra slumped back in her seat,
snoring lightly.
"Shit," said John, and started up the car.
_________________________________________________________________________
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