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The constant breeze was humid and warm, felt almost alive. It was too dark to see, but and the way it touched the more sensitive areas of her body made Libby realize that she had been stripped naked. Very slowly, her eyes started to adapt to the gloom.
Libby felt dizzy. She tried to stay calm, to figure out where exactly she was: Near the wall of a large, circular chamber with weak lighting she now started to perceive as bluish green.
Only it was no chamber: Every surface was glistening like wet skin, translucent even at some places, and fine veins seemed to cover everything. Inspecting the ceiling was like looking at a giant mushroom's head from below, lamellae spanning from the outer walls to the center, where things that looked like large eggs lined the slimy ground.
And everything seemed to be breathing somehow, moving in a slow rhythm, like a giant organism.
While all of this was disturbing, it played but the smallest role in Libby's discomfort.

The actual horror emerged from the sight of all the other women and girls around her, arranged in a large circle along the wall. Even with her 24 years, most of them looked younger to her, and none much older. All of them were naked, their arms and legs held in place by some kind of tentacles that seemed to grow from the organic walls of their prison.
Some were moaning, some sobbing, the tears of some running in silent fear. Most were still unconscious, though. Libby counted about two dozen.

All she could move was her head. She felt the warm, slippery wall touching her back as well as the tentacles that bound her arms and legs to it in a degrading manner. And while Libby’s sense of touch seemed fine, her ability to move was not. The tentacles holding her in place seemed weak enough for her to rip free, but when she tried to do just that, her limbs only answered with a slight tingling sensation. The women weren't just bound to the wall. They were being held in place, their limbs paralyzed. The realization made her feel even more violated.


Only when that voice broke it, Libby realized how pressing the silence had been.
"Yes, I hear you". What else should she say? She looked towards where the voice came from, directly to her left, but the tentacles and bumps in the wall between them made it impossible to see the other girl's face. The only thing for Libby to see were the pink-nippled tips of her breasts. C-Cups, about the size of Libby's own. Judging by her voice, she concluded the girl was still in her teens.
She sounded as desperate as Libby felt. "Wha-What do you think they'll do to us?"
Libby hesitated: "I don't know". That, however, was not entirely true.

The Invasion had been the darkest chapter in the history of Earth. Twelve Years ago, aliens had almost taken over the world. They had sacked entire cities, killed thousands of people and kidnapped women of child-bearing age. Nobody really talked openly about what they did with them, not even the media, but everyone knew. It had been one man, Duke Nukem, who had single-handedly defended the planet back then. The whole incident had led to the creation of the Earth Defense Force, or EDF, and Duke Nukem's ascension to superstardom. But even Nukem had not been able to save any of the women the aliens had taken. But she did know what they were going to to do them. Libby fought back tears and panic. Was she about to die here? Or worse?

"Hello? Are you still there?"
Libby hadn't noticed she had stopped breathing for a moment, but the other girl's voice brought her back to reality.
"Yes, I'm still here". She inhaled, tried to focus. "Listen, we have to get out of here." Obviously.
"I've tried", said the other girl, "but I can't move. My arms and legs, they... they just don't seem to work... You?"
"No", admitted Libby. She felt kind of embarrassed when she realized she was having a conversation with some girl's nipples, so she asked: "What's your name?"
"Cl- Claire".
"My name's Libby".
Their heartfelt introduction was interrupted by a strange, wet sound coming from the center of the chamber. To her horror, Libby saw that the things in the center of the room were indeed eggs, really large eggs, and now they were hatching.

She had not seen anything like the hatchlings in her life. Their bodies reminded her of ants with something attached to one end that looked like an alligator's jaw. The other end had a weird-looking opening. Libby couldn't say which was the front and which the back. Quickly they hatched, one after another, five, six, seven, eight of them, and slowly they began to crawl towards some of their human victims. To Libby’s relief, none approached Claire or herself. The voices of the kidnapped women grew louder. A young brunette a few feet to her right opened her eyes when the organic tendrils holding her in place started moving. Slowly, the green tentacles forced her body down, her legs forward and spread them, as if to welcome the creature crawling towards her. The girl screamed for help, tears now running down her face, powerlessly being forced into a position that left no doubt about the alien's intent. The same happened to the seven other girls these weird ant-like creatures crawled towards. When something that could only be huge penises erupted from the openings on their bodies, fear became pure hysteria.

"Oh God, no, please, don't!", screamed the brunette, when two tentacles wandered from her legs to her groin and spread her labiae apart to reveal the pink inside. The creature showed no mercy. None of them did. Simultaneously, all eight of them forcefully rammed their phalli into their victim's unprepared womanhoods. High pitched screams of agony and a sprays of urine welcomed them inside, but they didn't react to any of it. Next to Libby, Claire let out a scream that almost made it sound as if she was being raped herself. Either oblivious to the women's suffering or enjoying it, the aliens forced their now blood-soaked members deeper and deeper into their vaginas, following an almost mechanical rhythm. Judging by how long their phalli had been, they didn't stop until they reached the womb, or even entered it. Probably from the shock, the women's screams died down and gave way to the sickening, squishing sounds of their bodies' ravaging. Libby couldn't bear to watch any longer. Claire kept muttering "Oh God, no..." next to her, her voice but a whisper amidst the sounds of agony coming from the raped women around them. Libby shut her eyes, trying to think herself away, trying to keep her sanity.

How had she gotten here?
They had been celebrating her promotion. Libby was a full police officer now. Her best friend Tiffany had said it would be a great idea to celebrate at a renowned bar, Duke Nukem's Titty City, but Libby was sure that idea had come from Tiff's stupid boyfriend, Carl. He was an asshole. But then again, most men were. Tiff used to jest that Libby hadn't turned out gay because she loved women, but because she hated men. The aliens had appeared when they had just ordered their second drink.

She wasn't sure when the raping had stopped. Hesitantly, Libby opened her eyes.
The Impregnators had removed their members from the eight women's vaginas. Now they were sticking in their mouths, and you could see their victims swallowing something every few seconds. They were no longer in the degrading missionary position, but standing upright, their legs and arms now covered almost entirely by the pulsing alien mass. They seemed calm, their gaze empty as if they had been drugged, or their will had been broken entirely. Perhaps both.

While Libby puzzled whether there was any hope left for the poor girls at this point, a hatch opened. The light that fell in had a purple hue compared to the greenish surroundings of the incubation chamber. And now she was sure the same aliens from twelve years ago had returned. These, she had seen before. On the news, back when she was a child, in school and documentaries later. At Titty City, she had even shot a few of them with her service weapon. The first one was an alien assault trooper and looked somehow like a human-turtle hybrid. The second one was what had later been called a "Pig cop", although this one didn't wear a uniform and was certainly no colleague of hers. It resembled an enormously muscular man with a boar's head. They strode around as if they owned the place, inspecting each girl as if they owned them as well. They halted next to a Hispanic looking girl who was still unconscious. They mumbled something, then nodded and freed her from the tentacles that were holding her in place. The Pig man hoisted her naked body over his shoulder and the two of them continued their lap along the wall of hostages, stepping over the feeding Impregnators as if they were the most normal thing in the world. They only seemed to aim for girls who hadn't been raped yet. Their next stop was a sleeping blonde with freckles going all the way to her large breasts. The trooper put a hand between her legs, again nodding in approval, after which the pig man took that one on his other shoulder. They were coming closer. Libby didn't know what to think. 'Don't pick me'? 'Pick me?' Which fate would be worse? But they passed Libby without a second glance.
Claire wasn't so lucky.
"No, please, not there, don't!"
She was the first one they chose who was conscious, and they were having a great time because of it.
"Leave her alone, you fucks!", Libby heard herself scream. She did not know where that had come from.

The assault trooper took a step towards her and met her eyes. His alien mouth didn't look like it, but somehow she knew he was smiling. He grabbed Libby's breasts, one after the other, and squeezed. Hard. She knew better than to give him the satisfaction of showing her pain.
He grunted some words, and the pig man stepped beside him with another girl, probably Claire, on his shoulder, now lying on the unconscious Latina. He carried three women as if they weighed nothing.
The two aliens debated, as if to discuss whether the pig man could hurl all four of them. Apparently he could, because Libby was freed from her tentacle shackles. They seemed to retreat just by the touch of the alien hands. The pig man heaved her onto the freckled blonde and carried the four women towards the exit of the incubation chamber.

When Libby turned her head sideways, a pair of beautiful green eyes welcomed her. "Claire?" she whispered. The blond girl nodded, tears running down her face. Naked and unable to move, Libby, Claire and the two other women were carried deeper into the dark depths of the Hive.


Nice story, but I hope that wasnțt the end.


Libby couldn't say how far they were carried. Only being able to move her head, most of what she saw of their surroundings was glistening organic floors, sometimes greenish, sometimes bluish, sometimes entirely covered in darkness. Her breasts were pressing uncomfortably against the freckled blonde's back, but the warmth and the breathing of the naked woman below her gave her some surreal, misplaced sense of comfort.

Finally, they reached their destination. What little light the room had tinged everything a pale orange, enabling a good view on the rectangular thing at its center that could only be the alien's fucked up version of a table. Like almost everything in this place, it had thick, pulsing veins on it, but the surface on its top was perfectly flat. The pig man went past it, dropped the four humans into a corner like sacks of meat, positioned them to sit upright against the wall and began to muster them like cattle. Libby could feel his hungry eyes all over her naked flesh as disgust and fear waved over her once more. After a few moments, the fat alien grabbed the freckled girl and heaved her onto the table. Libby knew his intent, but there was nothing she could do to stop him. Helplessly, she watched as he spread the girl's legs and pulled down his sad excuse for pants to reveal a giant cock, already hard and ready. It looked almost human, if not for its enormous size, its purple color and the stench that came from it. Libby had thought that the girl was still unconscious, but her reaction showed otherwise. Playing dead wouldn't help her now.
"No, please don't, I'm still a virgin, please nAAAH!" Her words were cut off when the Pig Man rammed into her.

Ignoring her screams, the assault commander stepped before Libby. His eyes had formed these slits again that could be nothing else but their version of an evil grin. Still resolute, the policewoman hid her emotions as best as she could, staring right through him. One of his rough hands took her by the chin and tried to make her look at his ugly excuse for a face. Libby tried to bite, but he was faster. His alien laugh, paired with the suffering of the girl that was being raped right behind him were almost more than she could take. But it got worse. The assault commander went ahead and opened the lower part of his armor. As a lesbian, saying that Libby wasn't exactly fond of penisses would be a huge understatement, but compared to this one's dick, she would have prefered anything, as long as it was human. Only the tip of it looked fleshy. The rest was a mess of slimy scales, the sheer sight of which made her want to puke. Small wonder that they used human females for reproduction – their own women (if they there even were any) probably weren't too eager to get fucked by something like that.
Its size was even more disturbing. And if the these aliens were anything like humans, it was about to get even bigger. Libby gulped. When the alien genital closed in on her face, she turned her head sideways and kept her mouth shut as tightly as she could. His tip touched her lips and pressed past, but her teeth withheld the attack like a white wall. She was not going to make this easy for him. She may be a woman, but Libby Johnson was a police officer first. She had to set an example for the others to stay strong. Whatever this thing would do to her body in the next few moments, Libby would not allow it to get to her mind. She knew what being raped could do to a woman. Losing dominion over one's own body in such a brutal way can scar even the most beautiful mind forever. She made a promise to herself that no matter what happened to her body now, she would ignore it to the best of her ability. Not only that: She would find back. She would remain herself.
Her assailant did not give up. He began rubbing his filthy cock all over her face now, up her cheeks, over her forehead, down the bridge of her nose, breathing louder and ever louder as he went. His prod got bigger, got harder. It was disgusting. After a while, it went back to her lips. 'Don't you get it? You're not gonna get in there, you rapist alien asshole.' His hand wandered to the back of her head. All of a sudden, she felt the other hand on her nipple, squeezing and twisting it hard.
The sharp pain made her lose focus only for a heartbeat, but it was enough.
One yank and for the first time in the 24 years of her life, Libby Johnson had a dick in her mouth. Its scaly texture pulsed against her tongue as it grew harder and bigger, and it tasted like a mix of piss and eggs that had been lying in the sun for three weeks straight.

And still, as it slowly moved back and forth in her mouth, Libby felt a hint of triumph. 'Fucking idiot. So many orifices to choose from, and you pick the one I can fight back with. Do what you will with me, but no man porks his prick into Libby Johnson and keeps it'. She endured a few more of his thrusts, until she was sure he was all the way inside. Then she closed her jaw as as fast as she could, biting down hard. Her tormentor grunted... and then he chuckled.
Hot pain shot through Libby's mouth. She could feel a piece of her front tooth chipping off.
'God damn it, I forgot the scales'. Apparently, these alien cocks got hard on multiple levels. The defeat took her humiliation to a whole new level. The assault commander laughed out loud: Foreplay was over. He took Libby's shoulder long brown hair with both hands, and pulled her head towards his pelvis. She couldn't even use move her arms to keep him at bay as he started fucking her face like a jackhammer, in and out, in and out. The other rape going on in the room was all but forgotten. The world was only her and the penis invading her mouth. To her horror, it was still growing. 'How huge does this fucker get? I'm gonna suffocate if it doesn't stop soon'. She caught herself hoping for him to cum, but had no idea how much stamina these bastards had. A particularly heavy thrust made her throw up in her mouth, but Libby couldn't spit it out, so she had to swallow it if she wanted to keep breathing. Some of the acid reached her nose and burned horribly. The screams of the other raped girl were far away compared to the terrible squishing noise that came from the back of her throat every time his tip hammered against it.
And then, finally, he came. Libby had never tasted human cum, but it didn't seem possible that anything could taste worse than this stuff did. And human men surely didn't shoot nearly as much, with nearly as much velocity. The sheer force of it almost made her puke again, but that same force also made puking impossible. Her mouth filled up quickly, to the point where streaks of cum came painfully shooting out of her nose. She had no choice but to swallow if she wanted to breathe. So she did. Once, twice, three times. The filthy goo didn't seem to stop coming. The assault commander was in exctasy and jerked her head around like a toy. Then, finally, it stopped. She couldn't say how much she had been forced to gulp down.
At last, Libby thought with relief, this fucker would remove his dick from her mouth. But he didn't. Instead, he took the back of her head and shoved his prod all the way down Libby's throat again. But this time, he didn't move it. He let it linger there. And linger. And linger.
Her body wanted to move, but couldn't, wanted to puke, but couldn't, wanted to breathe, but couldn't.
Oh, the irony: A lesbian, choked to death by a dick in her mouth.
The world went red. Her head began to feel lighter than air, her chest burned as though a thousand needles were trying to burst out between her breasts. Her view went out of focus, every sound replaced by the incessant pounding of her heart.

She thought of home. The world went black.


Chapter 3: A Knight in Shining Armor

Then: Life. It filled her lungs and spread from there, bringing with it the hope Libby deemed lost. The air in the Hive was still the same. It was the same thick, musty alien atmosphere she'd been breathing in before, mixed with an aftertaste of her own vomit and alien cum. But at this moment, it was the sweetest thing Libby Johnson had ever tasted. She opened her eyes and slowly, light came crawling back. She could feel her breasts jiggle from the intensity of her own breathing.

"Step a way from the lady!", she heard a voice. It took her a moment to realize that it was not a voice she knew – and that it belonged to a man!
Using only the trained muscles of her torso and pelvis, Libby was able to get into an upright position against the wall to see what was going on. The assault commander that had abused her lay in front of her on its back, its penis still stiff, but its head blown to pieces. A rush of satisfaction at that sight gave her new hope. As did the fact that her apparent rescuer wore a combat uniform of the EDF, the Earth Defense Force. If they had made it here, not all hope was lost. "I'm warning you. S-t-e-p a-W-A-Y." The unknown man pronounced his command very clearly, but the pig cop didn't seem to understand a word. He just stood there, his enormous blood-soaked dick still inside the freckled blond girl, who was twitching from time to time, staring at the ceiling. Her body was alive, but her mind was some place else. The alien's gaze kept jumping between the Earth Defense Force soldier standing at the entrance of the room, the EDF soldier's Ripper, a three-barreled automatic rifle, his now dead alien buddy who had almost killed Libby and his own shotgun, which was leaning right next to him. Claire and the hispanic woman who had come with them from the incubation chamber were also sitting upright against the wall next to her, eyes wide, not daring to make a sound.

"This is your last warning", said the armed man, "step back or I'll shoot". The monster didn't step back. Instead, it reached for its weapon. The Ripper was surprisingly silent, its barrage of bullets ripping through the pig man until a couple of clicks showed that its clip was empty.
The dead alien swayed around as if drunk. And then, slowly at first, but quickly gaining momentum, he fell. "NO!" shouted the EDF man. Libby, Claire and the hispanic girl gasped.
The raped girl opened her mouth as if to say something, but it was too late. With a wet squishing sound, the now dead alien's tusk sank deep into the eye socket of his victim.
Blood sprayed out of her skull, and for a moment her limbs jerked around in wild spasms, their paralysis forgotten. Then she lay still, her blood and piss mixing with her tormentor's, adding new sprinkles to her freckles. Claire and the hispanic woman screamed in terror.

The soldier ran towards the now twice impaled freckled blonde, checked her pulse and cursed when he found none. Only after a long while, he acknowledged the other women. His eyes scanned their faces, then wandered down their naked bodies and stopped right between Libby's legs. Men. Her brain was litterally screaming at her legs to close, but those were as deaf as before, showcasing her pussy for everyone who cared to look. To make things worse, it was completely shaved except for a little brunette triangle pointing down. Now her pubic hair basically functioned as an arrow proclaiming "Hey, look here". Her labia were very short and her legs spread wide, so the stranger was probably seeing a lot of her. Libby could feel herself blushing. Stupid girl, this is neither the time nor the place for decency. "Hey, eyes up here", she finally managed to say in a surprisingly commanding tone. Her rescuer looked up, but said nothing. Instead, he turned to leave.

"Hey! Where are you going?!"
"You can't just leave us here!"

That made him hesitate, made him answer. "I have to. I'm sorry."

Libby fumbled for words desperatly.
"You are part of the Earth Defense Force! You swore an oath to protect us!"

He looked at her – in her eyes, this time, and answered in a challenging voice:
"And who are you, telling me how to do my job."
"Officer Elizabeth Johnson, LAPD."
"Well, isn't that nice. Listen, Miss Johnson – even if you are some officer – right now, you're just some naked chick who's not even able to walk. You're hot, I'll admit, but right now I have other things on my mind than that. Like getting the hell out of here, fuck the oath. We were a squad of 12 when we arrived. Twelve. And now I'm the only one left. What makes you think that hurling out three bitches, at least two of them probably crying for their daddy every few minutes, is at the top of my list? I'm sorry, Elizabeth Johnson, LAPD, but I've got to take care of myself this time."

He wants to look the tough guy, but he is just as afraid as we are, Libby realized.

The man headed for the entrance. Libby's mind raced on how to stop him from leaving them behind when the EDF soldier hesitated another moment. He turned around, grabbed his sidearm and a clip of ammo and tossed them towards Libby's feet. "If you get your mobility back in time, I suppose you know how to use these, officer".
With those words, he left, but not before stealing another glimpse between Libby's legs.
Naked, deserted and left without options, the three living women and a dead one waited for something to happen. For the paralysis in their limbs to wear off or for someone, something, to find them. Whichever came first.


Chapter 4: Freeing the Dead

The clip is empty, but it's been enough. Libby tosses her still smoking gun away. They are backstage, freshly fled from the bar at Titty City, alien corpses strewn across the ground, the makeup mirrors covered with their blood. The bastards got the barkeeper, killed some guests and kidnapped most of the dancers, but not Tiff – no – Tiff and herself are save.

Her best friend Tiffany is dressed in only her underwear, black lingerie, and Tiff's stupid boyfriend Carl is standing behind her, unhooking her bra. Libby could have sworn she has seen the aliens shoot Carl with their lasers before he made it backstage, but that can't be, because here he is, alive and well. Only his head isn't Carl's head anymore. He looks like some weird kind of boar.
Tiff is trying to tell Libby something, but she can't make out the words. "Elizabeth!" Since when do you call me Elizabeth, Tiff? "Miss Johnson!" Oh, come on now, Tiff, it's getting ridiculous. "Libby! LIBBY, WAKE UP!".

When Libby opened her eyes, she was welcomed by two very pink nipples on two very nice tits dangling in front her face. "Tiff,", she stammered, "I... But you said you weren't into girls... that we'd never - "
When she looked up, it wasn't Tiffany she saw. Tiff didn't have green eyes. It was all wrong – they had made it backstage, yes, but their victory was dream. The aliens had just kept coming. Libby looked past the green eyes and saw the corpse of a blonde freckled girl, buried under a monster. That snapped her out of it. "Claire?"
"Yes. I think you were dreaming. I don't know how you even managed to sleep after all this, but you did." Sleepiness receded quickly and was replaced by a slight pain in the back of her throat, her lungs – and her limbs. Only now she realized that Claire was standing. Libby tried to move her own fingers and felt a rush of triumph when they did. Shaky at first, but getting more steady by the second, Elizabeth Johnson got on her feet. Claire assisted her and her warm touch of her hands was more than welcome. Feeling empowered, Libby asked, "How long was I out?". "About twenty minutes", replied Claire, obviously trying not to look at the morbid scenenery behind her, "but we've been able to move for like ten."
"Speaking of 'we', where is the other girl?"
"I'm here", echoed a voice from her left. The hispanic looking woman had just re-entered the room. With relatively small shoulders and breasts, she was thinner than Claire and had an untrimmed dark bush between her legs where Claire was shaven clean.
"My name is Magdalena", she said with only the hint of a Spanish accent, "but call me Magda". The only thing that appeared big about her were her round, dark brown nipples. Claire had larger, C- to D-Cup breasts, a little bigger than Libby's own, but they fit better to her round form. With Libby's well-trained and muscular body, she considered her large rack to be out of proportions. They even were a hindrance for her job as police officer. But modeling, although she had gotten many offers to start such a career, appeared hollow and stupid to her. She was the kind of person who wanted to do something, and not just look pretty.
Pale hands moved to cover Claire's breasts and shaven pussy, and her gaze met Libby's in confusion. 'Damn it girl, you have to stop staring like some horny teen'. So she started to look for some clothing, but the only option was the Pig Cop's trousers, and those were drenched in blood, cum and piss. Shakily, Magda pointed at the gun the EDF officer had left behind, which was still lying at Libby's feet: "Are you really a Cop?". Libby nodded and picked the weapon up. She weighed it in her hand, checked the magazine. It seemed fit for use. "Why didn't you take it while I was out?" "I will not use such things", said Magda, "I'm a nun."

Great. Just what they needed. There weren't many religious people around anymore. Twelve years ago, during the first alien attack, most religious leaders had prematurely declared the End of Days and welcomed their new alien Overlords. When one man proved them all wrong, most of their flock didn't take too kindly to their shepherds leaving them to the wolves. Religion was a rare thing nowadays, although the cult around Duke Nukem came very close to one, all things considered. Libby decided not to start a religious debate now, though. They had far bigger problems. For example that the pig man's shotgun had been virtually destroyed by the EDF soldier's attack and was absolutely useless now. So she just gave Magda a nod.
"So what do we do now?", asked Claire.
The answer was obvious, but achieving it would be the biggest challenge of their lives. "We get out of here". Libby immediately felt stupid for saying that. 'Right, girl, you get out of here, some weird alien hive you couldn't find your way out of even if you had the floor plan, with hundreds of aliens around waiting to catch you, kill you, or worse'. Claire said no such thing though. She just nodded, and Libby was thankful for that. "Which way, then?" "I'd say we follow the EDF guy – He wanted to get out, apparently. No use in going where he came from."

"And what about her?", asked Magda, pointing at the pig cop's victim. She was too young to end like this, Libby reflected, looking at the poor blonde's freckled ruins. She couldn't have been older than Claire. "We can't just leave her like this", the hispanic woman declared. Libby disliked the nun already. Of course we can. "What's the alternative? Bury her? Did you bring a shovel?"
Magda ignored Libby's sharp tone. "No", she replied, "But I think we should at least get it away from her".
Only now Libby realized that the pig man was still inside his victim in two ways: His malformed penis, still erect somehow, in her vagina and – Libby was not sure which was worse – his tusk in her eye socket.
"We tried to... to get him away", Claire fell in, "but he was too heavy for only the two of us. And you look... stronger. "
Libby had no doubt about that. She followed a rigorous workout in order to stay in shape, and had a steeled body to show for it, muscular, with well-rounded female curves in all the right places. Most women with toned abs didn't have the body type for big breasts as well. Libby did.
"Fine", she said. Moving Beast away from Beauty was the least they could do, and it seemed appropriate. Together, they approached the collapsed pig cop to haul him up. The smell, a combination of blood, urine, death and the way he smelled anyway, was nose-numbing. With digust and horror on their faces, three living women tried to free a dead one. "On three", said Libby. The others nodded, looking at her in a way that people look at a leader. Even when not wearing her uniform (or anything, for that matter), Elizabeth Johnson had an air of authority about her, and she knew it.

"One, two... three". They moaned, they pulled, he moved. Slowly but steadily, the three of them managed to heave the pig man up by his shoulders. The tusk's movement within the girl's skull made a sickening sound, scraping and squishing. Claire closed her eyes and averted her head, fighting tears, but she didn't let go. Magda just looked sad. The moment the tip of the tusk exited the blonde's head, there was a plop and Libby felt something spurt on her belly. It was wet, soft and warm. She decided not to look down.
Once they had brought the pig man to an upright position, the rest was easy. One push was all it took. Libby happened to glance down and was reminded that his humongous penis was still hard, even in death. Maybe she instinctively took this as a warning, because she took a sidestep the second it left the freckled girl's ruined pelvis. It was exactly at the right moment.
Libby had heard of poshumous orgasms, but the white fountain that erupted from the alien member once it was freed was something else. It missed Libby by an inch. Claire wasn't so lucky. The spray covered almost her entire left leg in warm, white goo. She squealed like a little girl, and started to rub the contamination off her skin with both hands. "Oh god", she stammered, "Ohgodohgodohgod", starting to cry when she realized that while she had gotten most of it off her leg, the cum was now spanning gooey threads every time she spread her fingers.
Libby removed a pink worm from next to her belly button that could only be a part of the dead girl's brain. A mixture body liquids restarted erupting from the corpse's freshly liberated orifice. She hadn't deemed it possible, but the smell got even worse. The urge to vomit rose within Libby, along with a feeling of anxiety that was almost overwhelming.
"We have to get out of here!", Claire cried, sounding hysterical now. "We have to leave this place!"
Libby's mind raced: 'We should have just let her rot! What mess this got us in, literally. Fuck, what if they hear Claire scream, what if she completely loses her marbles now, what if...


That very moment, Elizabeth Johnson made a decision. She would not die here. She would live. And so would Claire and Magda. They needed leadership, needed morale, and Libby was the one they expected it from. So she led. Grabbing them, the policewoman started to move.


Chapter 5: Overlord

When his member's growing size started to deform her lower belly, her begging for mercy was replaced by more basic sounds, primal ones, expressing an amount of suffering that words could not. Her tear-streaked face was swollen and almost as red as the blood flowing down his ever-growing penis. Her glistening breasts jiggled in uncontrolled spasms and when he came the Overlord was fucking a corpse instead of a girl. That didn't matter to him, no more than the 19 girls he had fucked to death before this one had.
After he finished, he flung her carcass away like a broken toy. It flopped on the pile of her dead predecessors, head first onto the destroyed cunt of one of her classmates. That made him chuckle.

An assault commander stepped forward, looking nervous.
"Master, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but you've used up twenty females just now, and while your entertainment is of course of the utmost importance, we should try to put to use as many as possible for breeding purposes..."
"SILENCE!" The Overlord's fist came down in anger. Too late he realized that a redhead girl he had grown quite fond of was sitting right beside him. The force smashed her head and upper body to a bloody pulp, the remaining lower half sending a spray of piss across the room. 'Twenty-one now, Damn it.'

He couldn't even use her pretty head for his necklace now.


The commander stared at the twitching pair of legs next to to his master and knew better than to object again. He did have a point though. The Overlord had them deliver an entire class from a school for girls for his amusement. He had messed with their survival instincts for a bit, having them do all sorts of degrading shit for the faint hope to survive the day. In the end, he had just taken them, one after the other, and fucked them with the middle one of his three penisses, which happened to be the largest. Their bodies didn't react well to size and force of the impact – pussies were torn, and the sound of shattering pelvic bones was only surpassed by the pitch of their screams.
Each one had perished in a matter of minutes. Now twenty of these puny human females had died to make him cum only once. They really were a fragile species. A short fuck, but fun nonetheless.
Twenty were dead, two still alive. He considered using them as well, but two surely wouldn't last long enough to be any fun. Besides, after watching all of their classmates get raped to death one after another, they appeared mentally broken anyway. The brunette had puked a few times and pissed herself while witnessing the overlord destroy what had apparently been her best friend. When he ripped said friend's head off with the twist of two fingers and added it to the necklace of human heads he wore around his neck, she had just collapsed. Now she lay there, unconscious, a light trickle of urine dying away between her legs.

The blonde one with pigtails held up much better. In fact, the overlord had never met a girl who, after witnessing what this one had just witnessed, still showed this much self-restraint.
It was kind of cute how she still tried to cover herself with her arms, every now and then failing to keep one of her puffy pink nipples in check. Her blue eyes met his gaze, showing only the smallest hint of fear. 'This one isn't like the rest', he realized.

"WHAT ARE YOUR NAMES?", thundered the Overlord.

Instead of answering, the blonde just stared at her unconscious classmate, as if wondering whether she should answer for them both. Perhaps she was simply surprised that he spoke their language. Finally, she stammered a reply. "Shirley. I'm Shirley." She didn't sound as confident as she looked. He turned his gaze toward the brunette. Shirley took a heart, this time speaking clearly and much more calmly: "Her name's Rebecca". Then: "You gonna kill us?"


Submissively she put her arms aside – not appearing embarrassed, but presenting her naked form like badge of honor. Her breasts were small, but perky – still developing – her pubic hair shaped like a perfect triangle pointing down to her labia majora, which did a perfect job of storing away her pussy. Her flat stomach slowly and steadily with her breathing.


"I'm sixteen, and Rebecca is seventeen. I think. We don't speak much."

"SHE OBVIOUSLY DOESN'T", jested the Overlord. Shirley didn't smile. 'Not in the mood for jokes I guess. Still, this girl's interesting enough.'

Her answer didn't sound like a panicking schoolgirl, but cool, confident and diplomatic:
"What kind of question is that? Of course I want to live."


He nodded towards the puddle of blood next to him that had been a redhead a few moments ago. What had her name been? Martha? She had wanted to become a doctor, he remembered her telling him once.

"If she was your personal slave I don't see how being it myself is supposed to save me."

The Overlord chuckled again. It was as if she was begging him to kill her, when all before her had begged for life.

"THAT WAS AN ACCIDENT." SHE was forcing HIM to make excuses. 'I think I really like this one'.


"And how would I do that?"


"Just like that?"


"I don't see how I have much of a choice. Alright, I hereby swear fealty to you."


The Overlord pondered for a moment. It had to be mean, and something personal. Oh, and fun to watch, most of all fun to watch. When it came to him, he raised a giant finger and pointed towards Shirley's classmate Rebecca, who was still unconscious. There was a tense silence in the air for a few moments, until his voice shattered:


Shirley looked as though he had just slapped her in the face. Well, not literally, because then she'd be a red stain on the wall. It didn't take her long to regain her countenance.

"Her... Her Womb?"


You did not only end your enemy, but also symbolically all who would have followed them. It was an antiquated tradition in their culture, but it would serve as a rite of passage. And it would be interesting to watch her react. Shirley stared at him for a long while, her blue eyes wide open, giving not the slightest hint of what went through her head. Rebecca was lying next to her like a marionette with cut strings, oblivious of how her very life was a mere tool for their negotiations.
The overlord enjoyed every second of Shirley's decision process. 'She is weighing her options. Losing her life, or losing her humanity. Maybe she think's I'm playing with her'. He took a sharp, horned spike she could use as a knife and tossed it at her feet.

Shirley looked down at it, the cogs in her head spinning visibly. When she ducked to pick it up, he knew he had her. Weapon in hand, the girl with the blond pigtails turned toward her guileless classmate, her small breasts going up and down in slow, controlled motions of breathing.

And then... nothing happened. Shirley just stood there, unmoving. The Overlord decided to give her some start-up aid:
He pointed at his necklace. It was tradition for Overlords to add your foes' heads to a necklace, although his chain technically only contained the heads of fourty-something helpless females he had destroyed over the past few days and only one actual soldier.

He hoped to see fear as a reaction, but what he found was much better: A sly smile. There was a light shimmer between her legs. Her pussy was wet! He had been wrong about her: This one wasn't holding up so well because she'd had found some ominous way to keep her sanity.
No, she hadn't kept her sanity at all – she had never arrived here with it to begin with. She was a sociopath, maybe psychopath even, hidden away in the body of a 16-year-old girl. She took the knife and slowly walked over towards still unconscious Rebecca, when the assault commander reappeared: "My Lord, there has been an incident!"

"WHAT IS IT NOW?!" The Overlord looked for someone to break, but found none in his reach.

"It appears that two of our guards took four women from incubator 41". Shirley was kneeling over Rebecca, the knife hovering over her abdomen, pondering what to do next. "Apparently for their personal pleasure. The guards are dead – shot – but we only found one human corpse."

The blade went down, right above brunette pubic hair, and was welcomed by a spray of red. That brought Rebecca back to life, who immediately started pounding away at Shirley's face. It was fun to watch.


"Shall we send troops to hunt them down?"

He considered that for a moment, all the while watching the spectacle before him.
Rebecca's screams sounded guttural now, her resistance ebbing away. Shirley clearly hadn't been paying attention in biology and was randomly poking through guts in search for her classmate's womb.


"As you command, my lord."

Some bloody business later, Shirley held Rebecca's womanhood in hand, ovaries dangling from her thumb and the back of her hand like cute little bells.


Shirley looked up at him, painted all red, parts of her classmate still sticking to her forehead and chest. She also had a swelling around one eye, from Rebecca's luckiest hit.

"JUST A WORD OF ADVICE", he continued, "YOU DID AS YOU WERE TOLD, AND I WILL KEEP WORD. BUT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN EASIER" – he pointed at Rebecca, who was lying in a puddle of her own blood and intestines, still jerking around in uncontrolled spasms – "IT WOULD HAVE BEEN EASIER IF YOU HAD JUST KILLED HER FIRST."

Then the Overlord couldn't hold back his laughter any longer.


Great stories there! 10/10 will read more.


Chapter 6: Dark Corridors

"Which one do we take?", asked Claire. "The right one", answered Magda, almost immediately. They had been following a narrow corridor and were now standing between two doors that looked just about as disgusting as everything in this place did. "The left one", whispered Libby, "obviously the left one". "Why?"
"Because I've seen pictures of the alien ships. They are round. And the corridor we have been following was bent a little bit to the right. Which means that, if the hive is also roundish, taking the door to the left has a higher chance to take us to a more outward section and hopefully closer to an exit". Libby could see that neither Claire nor Magda had any objections to her reasoning. Claire's beautiful green eyes were even wide with admiration. 'I'm just a little less clueless than she is, but as long as I can keep them thinking I got things under control, it's all for the better'. Claire seemed to be holding up reasonably well, all things considered.
So they entered the left door, which resembled a sphincter a little more closely than Libby was comfortable with. "Maybe we will even find some clothing here", said Magda, though judging by her posture, she was experiencing less discomfort by her nudity than one may expect from a nun. Claire, on the other hand, always made an effort to cover herself with her hands each time she found Libby glancing at her – And Libby couldn't help but glance from time to time.
Magda's hopes were irrational, though. Libby could think of no reason why the aliens would keep the abductee's clothes around, and less reason to think that they would find them. There wasn't anything around to use as clothing, either: Everything that they saw in the hive was the hive, was in some way an outgrowth from the walls, the ceiling or the floor. They might have been able to cover their decency with pieces of the alien skin that formed the hive's inner surface, but neither did they have anything to cut it with, nor did they care to find out whether the inside of that stuff would be poisonous or acidic.
Besides, being naked was not as bad as it could have been. Sure, Libby and possibly Claire would be thankful for a bra just because their big breasts and their backs were bound to get sore after a while of running around like this, but the air had a humid warmth to it and the floor felt as if it was made for bare feet. The warm flesh underneath felt almost nice to the touch. As if anything in this place could feel nice.
After a few more corridors and a few more doors, Claire pointed out a problem that could turn out to be far greater: "I'm thirsty". Indeed, Libby had pondered how they could keep themselves hydrated should their escape take as long as she feared, and she hadn't come up with any ideas. Granted, she herself had swallowed quite a bit of liquid due to what that alien scumbag had done to her earlier, but she preferred not to think about that. One thing was sure: If the aliens wouldn't get them, thirst would, unless they found something to drink at some point.
"Not much we can do about that either, I fear. We just have to press on and hope that we... unless..." It was pretty obvious. Literally everything in this place was moist. If they had to lick the walls to survive, so be it. Libby rubbed her finger over the wall next to her, and much to her delight, it was now webbed with liquid. She took a heart, tasted it...

and spat it out right away. "Salty", she proclaimed in dismay. Damn. "Let's just move on then, if we..." "Ssshhhhh!" Magda was gesturing wildly for them to be quiet, although they had never raised their voices above a whisper. They stopped in their tracks and held their breath. Then Libby heard it, too. Footsteps, and voices. And they were closing in. While their own bare feet seemed to not create any sound at all on the fleshy ground, alien boots were a different affair.
Anxiously, Libby looked around for a place to hide, though she didn't have high hopes in this corridor. She grasped her gun more firmly and played with the safety. But then Claire pointed to a cavity in the wall a few feet back. It was below waist level and not very deep. 'Two of us might fit in, but all three?'
But they didn't have much of a choice, unless they wanted to have a gunfight on their hands and either get killed or alert the entire hive to their position. So they went for it without another word. Claire and Magda went in immediately, leaving Libby exposed outside in the corridor. "That won't work, get closer together! Closer!" Claire pressed against the side wall awkwardly and Magda pulled her legs toward her, folding into a ball, almost looking like a baby still in the womb. Libby tried her best to squeeze in next to them, and if this had been a niche in a concrete wall, it would have been impossible. But it wasn't a concrete wall. It was a moist, round gap in the wall. So after another push they were in, all three of them, a knot of human flesh. Magda's head pressed into Libby's tit uncomfortably and Libby's hand was on Claire's soft butt. Her face was surrounded by blond hair, her cheeck pressing against a warm shoulder. Libby inhaled Claire's scent. Was it fear she smelled? Whatever it was, for some fucked up reason, it made her wet.
Almost in a rythm with Claire's pounding heart, Libby could hear the footsteps move closer.
The cavity wasn't very deep and the three of them were just below waist level. One look down, one stray ray of light in this otherwise dark corridor, one breath drawn too loudly and the women would be discovered.
When they saw a boot, all three held their breath. It was very dark – both the boot and the surroundings – but it looked like there were bloodstains on it. Luckily, there wasn't much time to make sure, because the aliens moved by without a sign that they had noticed them. Only when the steps sounded far enough away did they dare to breath out. "Can we go now?", asked Claire, obviously directed at Libby, "It feels as if the wall is closing in on me". "Let's wait a few more moments", she replied, making sure the patrol was gone. Then, after another 20 seconds or so, Libby was content and wriggled herself out of their alcove. Slipping away from the warm flesh felt both good and bad, like trading the comfort of closeness in for freedom. Though "free" in this case only referred to the freedom to move and was one of the last words she would use to describe their situation. Magda followed after her. Claire didn't. "What are you waiting for?" Claire didn't follow them. "Get out of there, we need to keep moving!" - "I – I can't. I think I'm stuck!"
How could she be stuck? There was nothing in there to get stuck on. "Hang on... I think... I think it's MOVING!"
"What is moving?", Libby asked apprehensively. Claire looked outright terrified all of a sudden. "My leg! It's on my leg!" Libby looked down. And there it was, something that fit right into this place: Pulsing and wet, some kind of long tentacle had wrapped itself around Claire's ankle, quickly moving up her leg. It was the same color as the wall it had erupted from, part of the hive itself. Had they just not seen it? Had it hidden itself in the shadows, waiting for victims, or had it litterally just grown out of the wall? Any of those answers seemed as likely as the other. None of them mattered. What mattered was that they had to get Claire away from it. "Hang in there!" said Libby, and reached down, trying to get a grip of the tentacle as it crawled up her friend. But it was too wet and slimy and just slithered up between her palms, towards... towards what everything in this place seemed to aim at. Helplessly, Libby watched as their snake-like enemy closed in on Claire's vulnerable pussy, coiling again and again around one leg. Libby thought of her gun. 'No, they will hear the shot and come back'. Now the tentacle's tip touched Claire's lips, revealing a hint of pink. "What are you doing, Magda?! Fucking help me with this!" Libby made one last effort to hold it back, but there was nothing she could do. When the tentacle entered her friend, there was a soft squishing noise... followed by Claire's scream.


Chapter 7: Found

The scream cut the silence to shreds as it echoed through the corridor, announcing their position to everyone and everything this side of the hive. "SHIT!" - Libby grabbed her gun, aimed for the spot where the tentacle erupted from the wall, and pulled the trigger twice. With two loud bangs, the intruder was seperated from the wall it protruded from. Claire was free. Tears in her eyes, the blond girl pulled her still twitching tormentor out of herself and jumped away from the niche in the wall. No further communication was necessary. Libby, Claire and Magda all knew that the two aliens they had hidden from were surely coming back. So they ran. Almost blindly, they hurried down the dark corridor, not knowing where they went, hoping to find some way to lose their pursuers. Claire almost stumbled when remains of the tentacle still clinging to her leg up to that point dropped to the floor, but she caught herself and they went on unhindered. The floor was smooth and warm and wet under their feet and their footsteps echoed as if the three of them were running on water, but somehow it offered perfect grip, as if the surface of the hive itself was embracing the thouch of their bare feet. Each step made Libby's unsupported breasts bounce up, only to inevitably come crashing down again moments after. Cursing her bosom, she tried to hold them in place with her hands, only to find herself quickly losing speed due to the resulting lack of arm movement. She had no choice but to let them flail around as if they were mocking the situation. Better a sore chest than a hole in it. Glancing to her right, Claire must have been having similar problems – and more: Judging by her breathing and the color and expression of her face, she would not be able to run like this for much longer. Had they lost their pursuers yet? 'How could we have, there hasn't been a single fork in the corridor the entire way!' "WAIT!"

Now there was. The corridor continued, but another sphincter-shaped door led to their left, and an opening in the wall to their right. The door didn't look inviting, but the hole in the wall was below waistlevel and so dark that after a few feet that there was no way to say where it led. Claire was out of breath, and unsure. "Should we go on?" 'Should we?' Would their persuers expect them to take the door, or to continue following the corridor? "No", Libby said. 'When you are fleeing, changing directions is the best tactic. Or is it?' She was unsure, but made sure to appear as if she wasn't. "Wait, do you hear that?", asked Magda, who didn't seem to be much better of than Claire when it came to stamina. "Listen!"

Now, Libby heard it too. Was that... music?! It was hard to tell because the sound was muffled by the door to their left, but it seemed as if a women's choir was singing loudly behind it. That didn't make any sense. Libby was fascinated by the unexpected melody. Before she realized what she was doing, she had touched the door, opening it with a wet, slurping noise.
A warm gust of wind welcomed them to a gigantic hall the size of which Libby had never seen. A patch of the hive's flesh led down its middle like a bridge, connecting this door to another one multiple hundreds of feet away. At both of its sides loomed an abyss. From the entrance, Libby was unable to make out its ground, be it due to its sheer depth or due to the thick fog that erupted from the deep. In irregular patterns, huge, stone-like spires towered up from the below between the bridge and the hall's walls, which in turn were at least a hundred feet away from it. At a first glance, the spires seemed to be wriggling somehow. The second revealed the source of the movement: Women. Hundreds of women, thousands maybe. Naked, they were bound to green, fleshy pylons that held them in place with slimy tentacles around their extremities. 'Is this how we looked back in our small incubation room?' No. These women were worse off. There was an unnatural movement in the bellies of most of them, inflating them to the point of tearing the skin, only to go flat again thereafter. And they weren't singing. They weren't singing at all. Screams of agony, and gasps of fear echoed through the hall like a permanent symphony of anguish. Only now did Libby realize that there were women on the far walls too, and more still all over the ceiling, hanging down with their arms and legs entombed in the alien walls and ceiling behind and above them, naked victims dangling like a thousand drops of water from a thousand leaves. 'The amount of young women in this chamber alone could fill a small stadium', Libby realized with horror.
Claire made a step into the hall, eyes wide, but Libby held her back. "No", she said, "don't. Down there", and turned back towards the dark hole opposite the door. It was not inviting, but entering this expanse of suffering was suicide. There was only one bridge here that went in a straight line for hundreds of feet and no cover to hide behind. It would have been a shooting range.

At least Magda seemed to understand that fact, nodded towards Libby and jumped down the dark chute first. Claire looked overwhelmed and afraid, but, after Libby gave her a push, followed nonetheless. When Libby stepped in front of the hole, their pursuers were just catching up with them, signaled by a gunblast that missed her head by only a few inches. Without another thought, she jumped, and darkness engulfed her. The chute went on for a long time, and, having the same surface as the rest of this place, the ride felt almost as if she was gliding down a bumpy, slimy waterslide. She could hear the voices of the two aliens quickly echoing away behind her. But much to her dismay, they weren't cursing or calling for backup. They were laughing.

She landed with her head on some warm, pillowy breasts. "Claire! I'm sorry! Are you alright?" But when she looked up, it wasn't Claire she saw, though the girl Libby was lying on looked very much like her. Blond hair, about the same, young age. But this one's eyes were both blue and unseeing. She was dead. In shock, Libby pushed herself off the girl sideways and found herself gliding down a slope that was mostly composed of warm, smooth skin, but also of something sticky. She tumbled a few feet further before she finally dared to stand up and turn around. What she saw almost made her vomit. There were girls and women, unmoving, dumped here on top of each other like a large pile of waste. Some only had blood between their legs, some had their entire pelvis shattered and others were completely snapped in two, their naked torsos in one place, pairs of legs in another, guts often still connecting them. Libby knew almost instantly what had caused this carnage. All of them had given birth to the enemy; all of them had died for it. And they were still warm.


fantastic stories <3


Chapter 8: The Walls have Teeth

Libby tried again: "Come on Claire, focus! Get up! We need to keep moving!" But Claire just sat there, her back to the wall, crying, snot running from her nose. Just like she had for minutes now. Her hands kept wiping up and down her thighs, as if to undo what horrible things that tentacle had done to her. Her gaze was directed at nothing, staring vacantly right through of horror in the center of the room, unwilling to see. She was unwilling to hear, too. "Claire!"
"She's in shock", declared Magda, as if that wasn't obvious enough. These past hours, Claire had been ripped out of her life, stripped naked and hunted, she had witnessed the death of a girl her own age and just moments ago an alien tentacle had forced itself inside her. Right now she was sitting next to a large pile of...

'It’s half a miracle that Magda and myself were still holding up so well', Libby reflected. She dared another glance over her shoulder, couldn't help but take another look at this unreal a pile of death. The ones at the bottom had already started to turn bluish, but the topmost were still warm. All of them were equally dead. She was looking at the remains of probably over fifty young women, as naked as any woman Libby had seen in this place, stacked up onto a pile at least ten feet high as if they were merely toys of some monstrous being that had forgotten them here. A beautiful girl much too young seemed to look right at Libby, the horror and agony of her last moments still visible in her eyes. Her plump breasts were sprinkled with blood. Below them, you could see part of her rib cage and her lungs. Everything below that was just gone.
What had her story been? Had she just been on her way home, her biggest worries being tomorrow’s homework, only to end up here, to end like this? It just wasn't fair. But war never was, especially to the weak. To these bastards, Libby guessed, women weren't even considered casualties of war. They were cattle. Mere tools for reproduction, to be used once and discarded when they had served their purpose. That thought should have made Libby feel angry, disgusted, violated. But it didn't. In fact, she hardly felt anything at all.

'I may be under shock too', Libby realized, 'but at least my mind is still working when my emotions aren't'. And her numbed mind knew that they had to get Claire's working again as well. "Claire, I- I know this is fucked up, but you have to snap out of it!" Magda gave her a disapproving look and said in a practiced, calm tone of voice: "I know things may look dark, Claire, but the bible teaches us that there is always hope, even in the most dire of situations..." 'Oh great, now she starts getting all preachy on our asses'. But then again, Libby herself had no idea what else to say. So while Magda continued elaborating to Claire how God's divine love would protect them from further evil, Libby weighed their options. The room had two exits. The chute they had entered from of was over one them, so taking the other one would hopefully enable them to continue moving further towards more outward sections of the hive.But first, they needed to start walking again, and Claire wasn't too eager about that part.

Libby considered just slapping her when, out of the blue, she jerked back to reality all by herself. "No", Claire said all of a sudden. "No. No! Nonononono, not again, no!" Claire jumped up, and pressed her back flat against the wall, eyes wide with horror. "What is it, Claire? What..." Then Libby saw it, too. Another one? A tentacle had erupted from a wall and was slithering slowly, calmly across the floor. Claire began to shake uncontrollably and Libby felt something warm splash on her feet. A yellow trickle erupting from Claire’s pussy was wetting wetting both their feet. Libby took a step back.

Then the tentacle grabbed onto something – a foot. A jerk went through the pile of corpses when a dark woman's body, one of the more intact ones, was pulled away from the lowest layer. She lay on her belly, her face hidden away by a strand of black hair. Perhaps it was best that way. Slowly, her unmoving body was dragged towards what Libby had taken to be just another organic wall of the hive. But now she saw she had been wrong. A fine, long line was visible along the lower half of that wall, a deepening that looked unsuspicious on its own. But now that the woman’s corpse was moving towards to it, it became obvious that there was more to it. It opened. The walls have teeth. In a heartbeat, the solid wall had become a gaping mouth, round, deep, with multiple rows of razorsharp teeth, one layered behind the next. When the dead woman’s torso entered it, it closed with a wet crunching noise, spraying blood in every direction. The legs were shoved in right after that, with not much chewing involved.

It made sense: The hive was organic after all. It was grown, so it needed sustenance. 'At least they are recycling', Libby thought, instantly hating her tactless sarcasm. Two bites was all it took to devour an entire human body. The mouth in the wall disappeared as quickly as it had opened and the room returned to what it had been before: A fleshy mass grave, disturbed by three naked, unwilling tomb raiders. Now that Claire was on her feet again, Libby saw the chance to leave this horrible place before anything else happened. Anything worse. She took Magda and Claire by the hands, both of whom had fallen silent again after witnessing the latest horror, and half led, half dragged them towards the alien door she had decided on. Like the other doors of the hive, this one opened to the slightest touch, emitting a wet slurping sound the echo of which was muffled by the pile of flesh behind them. Libby, Magda and Claire entered another corridor of black, hard flesh.
This one had a violet tint to it. The police officer still was not sure where the ambient lighting in this place was coming from. It might have been some kind of bioluminescence of the walls and floors themselves. Whatever it was, it illuminated everything very evenly, because while it was not necessarily bright, everything in the hive was easily visible once one's eyes had adapted. Libby couldn't help but take a final look back only to find another pair of dead eyes that seemed to stare directly at her. TIFF?! No. The surge of panic passed as quickly as it come: That wasn't her friend Tiffany. This woman's corpse looked similar, but the longer Libby stared, the more unfamiliar the empty eyes within that ruined face became, and soon her emotions calmed back down to numbness. So she still was able to feel something. 'It's interesting how seeing a dead woman can be a relief once you realize it is not a dead woman you know'. When the door closed behind them, another tentacle was in the process of dragging another victim free from the pile. But Libby decided not to give it further thought. 'We need to keep moving', she knew, looking at Claire, who’s expression was simply blank now. 'We need to stay numb'.


Hey, keep these chapters coming! Great work!


Those breasts are going to get her killed, she ought to take them off somehow ;)


This is completely and utterly fantastic. It hit all of my buttons, specially the alien rape. Thank you!


No new chapter this time, but people who are interested in The Hive might still wanna read this. It's mainly about the writing process and what you can expect in the future.

First of all some Publication Info: I'm currently posting this story on Gurochan, TheDarkSpot and Hentaifoundry. The Hentaifoundry version is the one that deals best with my formatting, so I recommend reading it over here if you don't already:

I will continue posting on all three of course, at least for the foreseeable future.

Something that I realized again and again while writing this story is that it's not a simple thing to find the middle road between your typical one-off snuff-story and your average (maybe even politically correct) let's-see-how-the-hero-wins-narrative.
I don't want you, the reader, to just wait and find out what gruesome end I have in store for my main heroine(s). Because I haven't got any. Neither do I have any concrete plan on how Libby is going to save the day (and herself). What I do have is some vague major plot ideas that are roaming around in my mind, waiting for the right time to be written down.
And here's the thing: I don't have any idea WHEN and IF that right time will come. Because while the situations the characters run into originate from my mind, I let DICE decide the outcome of most aspects, meaning I don't know how each chapter will end myself. I am using a simplified version of your average RPG Ruleset that contains Fitness, Strength, Mind, Morale and Luck.

Fitness determines how much stamina characters have and how agile they are. It helps when fleeing and hiding from enemies, reaction speed and how long they can withstand physically stressing situations (which in this story can and will include sexual violence) before passing out or dying.

Strength determines how strong they are (yes, really), helping them escape once they are cought, free alien victims, use weaponry and take hard, but non-sustained damage before passing out or dying.

Mind generally helps them to avoid danger altogether, to come up with ideas to fight back and with getting out of sticky situations using trickery. In the case of our current protagonist Libby for example, this includes her education as a police officer.

Morale determines their mental health. The Hive is a living nightmare, so even if they stay alive, the horrors characters witness and become victims of can literally break their minds.
Morale has no fixed value, but characters start out with larger or smaller pools paired with the ability to build morale faster (like by defeating some monster) or lose it slower (witnessing something horrible or going through it oneself).

But even the most perfect hero can die from a random hit. Or find something useful. That's where luck comes in.

Here's some examples of stuff that could have happened very differently so far (just the most relevant stuff, there's more in some details):

– The girl that was taken from the incubator along with Libby, Claire and Magda could have survived and become pretty major character. She literally lost a coin toss whether the Pigman would fall backwards or forwards, impaling her head. Was an interesting character too, but oh well, now she's dead.

– Claire could be keeping her shit together better (or worse, believe it or not), while Libby's current mental health is well above what I had anticipated.

– The tentacle in the corridor in chapter 6 could have raped either of the three, though with Libby as the target there would have been a chance for her to escape due to her physical prowess.

– With a bad shot, Libby could have shot Claire in the leg or the foot while shooting the tentacle.

– Before Libby jumped down the chute in chapter 7, there was a "gunblast that missed her head by only a few inches". That could have been a hit. 'Nuff said.

Some may remember that an older version of the beginning of this story was posted years ago on Gurochan and TheDarkSpot. That story wasn't very long-lived, though. The new system and the surprises it results in for me as the author will hopefully keep me focussed this time. Currently I am working on introducing a few more perspectives to the story, both as a device of reaching some plot points I wanna reach (three naked chicks running through corridors can't experience everything) and as a safety net in case Libby bites the dust. While I do not have infinite time on my hands, I am fairly optimistic that I will be able to add at least 2-3 new chapters per month.

TLDR: Story events are partly randomized, writing process takes time.


huh. could have sworn i posted chapter 9 here. incoming.


Chapter 9: Walkürenritt

"Join the EDF", they'd said.

Melanie returned fire over the roof of the Jeep she was hunkering behind.

"Just go for the five years. The pay is great, and after five years of obstacle courses and boredom, you have a great monetary basis to start the rest of your life. And the aliens won't be coming back, so there's basically no risk at all".

A hot load of plasma missed Melanie's head by less than 30cm and burned a smoldering hole in the concrete wall behind her. 'Scheiße. Yeah, no risk at all, you smartasses'. The streets of Los Angeles, brimming with life and diversity not even a day ago, were a desolation of chaos, fire and death. The fancy sports cars that had been cruising the streets were now burning wrecks blocking the way. Melanie had been into fast cars what seemed a lifetime ago. A few hours ago. Now, she was all into the big, bulky, ugly cars, busses and trucks. Those were wrecks too, but these wrecks offered cover. Another shot hit the Jeep she was leaning against and echoed through the empty streets. Between the wreckage, corpses were strewn across the ground. All of them were either elderly people, children or men. Just as with the first invasion, there was no sign of females of Melanie's age. During that first invasion, Melanie had been only seven, but she had never seen her big sister again, who had been abroad in the US at the time. Just like she was now. Best not dwell on it. 'Focus'. This was combat. This was what she was here for.

To her left, Sergeant Sebab gave the sign she was waiting for, the command to move into a flanking position. It was a shit job, but someone had to do it. And in this particular case, that someone was Corporal Melanie Höltens. 'Come on, Melanie, you've trained for this'. Though they say you that can train all you want, that you'll never see if you're up to snuff before you've seen real combat. This was her finding out. Covering fire came and Melanie sprinted to the next cover, a hastily abandoned delivery truck. From there, she continued on, her helmeted head down, as another load of hot plasma shot over it. Out of the corner of her eye Melanie witnessed the assault commander that had sent it her way drop from a direct hit by her squad's covering fire. A feeling of triumph, further fueled by adrenaline, swept over her as she lept behind another large Jeep and unleashed hell upon the alien commander's two remaining, now flanked companions. Her Ripper gun got one cleanly in the head and, true to its name, ripped through the lower torso of the other one, cutting a bloody gash through it, dropping that alien fuck instantly. And then, as quickly as the fire exchange had erupted, it was silent gain. The cracks of her gunfire echoed away, fading into the soft sounds of turmoil in the distance.

So this was it. Her first two kills. The heat of battle. They say you that can train all you want, that you'll never see if you're up to snuff before you've seen real combat. Now she knew, knew with striking certainty. Melanie Höltens, despite her delicate appearance, did have the heart of a warrior, which was now beating fast in anticipation of, no, longing for, more combat to come. She had never felt so alive in all her 19 years. Recklessly, perhaps even foolishly, she removed her helmet and freed both her red mane and a triumphant warcry. The assault commander and his two soldiers she had killed lay almost atop each other. Further behind them were two more dead aliens, at least one of them killed in action by Corporal Chang, the other female member of their small EDF squad. 'Go girls, I suppose'. It only seemed appropriate that it was the women who were doing the killing out here, because in there, from all they had been told in the briefing, it was the women who were doing the suffering. But that would soon end. One way or another.

Sergeant Sebab and the rest of the squad were catching up now. "Good job, soldier!", he exclaimed, "Very proud, Holtens." He always pronounced her name this way. Most Americans did, but Melanie didn't mind. Especially not now. "Very good job, everyone", he continued, addressing his cheering squad, "with people like you, these bastards won't stand a chance". And he was right, of course.

The hive was still about 2km away, but Melanie could see it from here already. A dark growth erupted from the building that had been the Duke Dome and wrapped itself around a tower, as if threatening to devour it whole. If recon was to be trusted, most of the hive was hidden underground, though. Nobody knew how the aliens had been able to set foot here so quickly after their initial attack. But at this moment, Melanie wasn't afraid. She would show those alien fucks what happens if you attack earth. She was going to kick ass and chew bubble gum, and she had never brought gum along in the first place.

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