Jul 082020
 

Maxwell Booker stared at the ceiling. A large screen displayed an alien skyscape. Pink and brown clouds floated in contrasting directions. It reminded him of lava lamp.

He was lying on a table, though the surface he was on was padded and not uncomfortable. Something metallic held onto his wrists, stretching his arms past his head. The same hard restraints locked his ankles in place. His arms, body and legs formed a straight line on the table.

Maxwell had woken up on this table. The last thing he remembered was defending the President in the White House Bunker and failing. That’s not true. The last thing he remembered was getting smothered in giant purple tits. Clearly, he had been taken prisoner.

Was this a cell or an interrogation room? Maxwell looked around the room, searching for a clue. The white walls were devoid of decoration or furniture. He wasn’t even sure where the light was coming from.

Maxwell just wished he knew why the Venusians had stripped him naked. It was probably to humiliate him. If he was embarrassed, then it would soften him up for their questions.

Fuck that. Maxwell wasn’t going to tell them anything. To be honest, he didn’t really know that much since his primary job was protecting an idiot President who was now dead, but the aliens didn’t know that. He would stall and make them waste their time interrogating him. All they would get from him is his name and rank.

There was a hissing sound. A crack formed in one of the white walls. Someone stepped through.

It was a Venusian. Eight feet tall, and mostly naked, the Venusian looked like a human woman with purple skin and black hair. Well, no human had tits that big or black nipples that large. Also, no human had muscles bulging up and down her arms and legs while still so strongly identifying as female.

Was it the same Venusian that had captured Maxwell? He couldn’t tell. She had the same black hair, yellow eyes and luscious lips as the other one, but he couldn’t be sure. No one had ever seen a Venusian outside their battle armor until Maxwell was captured.

The Venusian wasn’t alone. Another purple alien woman walked in, followed by another and then another and another. Maxwell counted a total of twelve giantesses before the crack in the wall disappeared.

A heavy scent hung in the air. It was sweet and reminded Maxwell of a flower shop. He found himself drooling.

The Venusians surrounded the table. They leaned in close to look at Maxwell. Some of them gazed at him like he was a snack.

Maxwell studied them as best he could from his position. Some of them had red streaks in their black hair. One had a red eye that looked artificial. Another had remarkably larger breasts for her already well-endowed kind.

Inevitably, his cock responded to the sight of so much bare flesh. It throbbed and hardened with each pulse.

A Venusian pointed and a whistle sound came from her lips. The other Venusians answered with whistles of their own. Those who didn’t whistle licked their lips.

Maxwell didn’t know what to do. He pulled on his restraints but they held on just as tightly as they had since he had woken up.

One of the Venusians reached for Maxwell’s cock. He tried to twist away from her but it was useless. The Venusian had a white streak in her long black hair. She gripped Maxwell’s cock with surprising gentleness.

Maxwell froze. They had his cock. He sure as fuck didn’t want to anger them.

The white-streaked Venusian whistled. The other Venusians whistled back. Her palm was as wide as Maxwell’s cock was long. She curled two of her smaller fingers around Maxwell’s member.

Maxwell groaned. His cock pulsed in the Venusian’s hand.

The Venusian stroked Maxwell’s cock. Up and down she went, all the time whistling those strange sounds.

The other Venusians leaned in closer. Massive purple breasts hung above Maxwell. Some Venusians stared at his member while a few stared at his face.

One Venusian with two red streaks in her hair and a silver ring through her nipple, whistled something. She stretched her hand out and touched his balls with the tips of her fingernails. As the white-streaked Venusian continued to stroke, the red-streaked Venusian rubbed his balls.

“Oh fuck,” Maxwell groaned. Did they not have cocks on Venus? Maybe they were just curious about his dick’s ability to grow hard.

The white-streaked Venusian stopped whistling and leaned over Maxwell’s phallus. Spit fell from her lips. The Venusian kept stroking, smearing her spit over his hard member.

“Fucking shit,” Maxwell said. They knew exactly what his cock was. The alien women were toying with him. Getting him off was probably a part of their plan to humiliate him. Well fuck that. They would get nothing out of him, not even his come!

The other Venusians reached out to touch him. some gripped his legs with their powerful hands. Other ran their fingernails along the side of his broad chest. One Venusian, the one with the largest breasts, reached down and tapped his nose.

Maxwell tried to ignore the many hands touching him. He tried to think about football, but he kept picturing giant naked alien women ramming straight through a defensive line. He switched to multiplication tables but every time he looked at a massive pair of breasts, he doubled the number he was working with. Finally, he tried closing his eyes but just made him even more aware of how many aliens were touching him.

The Venusian at his cock tightened her grip. She also stroked him faster. More spit fell onto his cock.

“Fucking fuck, shit, shit, shit,” Maxwell groaned.

The alien woman bopping Maxwell’s nose stopped. She bent down closer to look at him. Her giant purple breasts dangled inches from his face. He caught himself lifting his head to try to nuzzle them.

The alien stroking his balls moved her fingers to the tip of his cock instead. She rubbed the bit of pre-come that was forming. Maxwell watched her bring her fingers to her nose, sniff and then take a lick.

“Oh, FUCK!” Maxwell groaned. He had to keep from coming. It was only act of defiance left to him. He couldn’t let himself come. This was for America!

The Venusian who tasted his pre-come reached for his cock. The tip of her fingernail touched the head of his member. Slowly, she traced the circumference of Maxwell’s cockhead.

Maxwell gritted his teeth. He looked up at the Venusian above his head. She opened her mouth and a pink tongue licked her dark lips.

That was the final straw. Maxwell climaxed. A stream of seed shot into the air like a rocket. One of the Venusians snatched it from the air with lightning speed. She licked it from her hand.

The Venusian kept pumping his cock. More seed flew upwards. The Venusians tried to snatch it from the air with their incredible speed. As soon as one caught a load, they licked their fingers clean. Not a single drop landed in Maxwell or the table.

As Maxwell came, the Venusian above his head lowered her nipple to his mouth. He lunged upwards and wrapped his lips around it. His tongue flickered as fast as he could.

The nipple tasted like lavender.

When there was no more seed to pump, the white-streaked Venusian let go of his cock. She whistled and the others whistled back. some of the whistles reminded Maxwell of giggles.

The Venusian above Maxwell stood up. Her nipple popped from Maxwell’s mouth. A line of spit connected her black nipple to his lips but it was soon broken.

The Venusians headed back to the wall. The crack re-appeared. Maxwell watched a dozen perfect purple asses leave the room.

“Fuck,” he whispered. What was that all about? He had no idea.

Above him, pink and brown clouds collided together on the view screen.

Jul 062020
 

Maxwell Booker, Secret Service agent, stood ten feet away from the President of the United States. Another Secret Service agent, Simms, was ten feet away from the President on the other side. Both of them would have liked to have been closer to the man they were supposed to protect, but the President was giving an interview to a Wolf News reporter and the President hated sharing screen time with people who had never been on television.

They were fifty feet underground, inside a bunker designed to take an indirect nuclear stroke. Five Marines guarded the thick metal door that led to the surface. The bunker was supposed to house the President’s family and a few members of his security detail, but the First Lady went AWOL two weeks ago with a Russian Ambassador. The President decided to bring his staff with him so that the press wouldn’t accuse him of hiding in a bunker by himself. The reporter was invited because the President always wanted the spotlight, even in the middle of an invasion from Venus.

“What message do you have for the American people about the Venusian ships bombing their cities?” the reporter, Brett Canny asked. Maxwell was amazed by how upbeat Brett sounded during a bombing run.

“I tell people that the Venusian space ships and their armies will go away,” the President said. “One day, they will just disappear and it will be like a miracle.”

Maxwell bit back a snort. It was easy. He had plenty of practice not reacting to stupid things the President said.

There was a tingling on the top of Maxwell’s bald head. He looked up to see the ceiling was glowing pink. That was not good.

“Sir, we should move,” Simms said.

The President had already fled to the bathroom. Damn, the old fart could move when he wanted to. Self-preservation was his best talent.

The ceiling vanished. Maxwell looked up at the open sky. Where the fuck was the White House?

A floral scent wafted down to them. Oh shit.

Venusian soldiers lined the edges of the hole. Each were eight feet tall and covered in silver metal from head to toe. The metal appeared to be skintight, and revealed more than it concealed. It was impossible to miss the giant breasts, the wide hips, the bulging biceps, the thick thighs and incredible posteriors.

Maxwell heard Simms whistle in shocked appreciation. He shared the feeling. Video footage didn’t do the feminine curves justice. No one knew what a Venusian looked like under that armor, but they had the bodies of Amazons.

The Marines opened fire with their automatic weapons. Sparks flashed on the Venusian Solder’s armor. White House staffers screamed and scrambled to hide under desks and behind couches. Brett dropped to his knees and cried.

“Protect the President!” Simms yelled. Maxell drew his service pistol as Simms ran to the bathroom. Covering Simms, Maxwell walked backwards slowly to keep an eye on the invaders.

A few Venusians dropped down into the bunker. There was three of them. They raised their hands and pink beams of energy fired forth.

Three Marines turned to ash. One of the Marines rushed a Venusian and she backhanded him, breaking his neck. The fifth marine pulled out a grenade and tossed it. The Venusian grabbed the grenade and pressed it to her chest. There was a muffled “k-tump” as the grenade harmlessly went off. The Venusian blasted the last Marine with her free hand.

So much for the Marines. The Venusians turned their attention to the civilians. They fired rapid shots into the furniture. Screams and ash filled the bunker.

One of the Venusians turned to face Maxwell. He was the last one alive in the main bunker chamber. She pointed her hand at Maxwell.

He was going to die. Maxwell knew it but he didn’t falter. He pointed his gun, aimed for where he assumed an eye would be and squeezed the trigger.

The Venusian’s head snapped back. She lowered her hand. One of the other Venusians pointed their hand at Maxwell but then stopped.

Maxwell fired again. This time he aimed a little lower, hoping to hit a mouth. The Venusian head snapped back again.

The other two Venusians lowered their hands and flanked the one that Maxwell had been firing at. The stance reminded Maxwell of how he and Simms flanked the President. Was he shooting at some kind of leader?

The center Venusian walked towards Maxwell. He kept firing. Each shot hit the head of the Venusian and each hit made her head snap back.

KLICK KLICK. Maxwell was out of bullets.

The Venusians surged forward. The center one grabbed Maxwell’s wrist and squeezed. Pain shot up his arm and he dropped the gun. The Venusian delivered a swift kick to his stomach. Maxwell’s feet left the ground as the air rushed out of him. He collapsed to the floor and gasped for air.

The other two soldiers ran past Maxwell to the bathroom. Maxwell heard gunshots followed by a scream. There was the sizzle of a door being vaporized followed by pathetic whimpering. Another sizzle sound and the whimpering stopped.

Ice slid down Maxwell’s spine. He had failed. The President was dead. The guy was a useless asshole but it was Maxwell’s job to protect him. The only upside was that the Venusian would soon kill him and he wouldn’t have to live with his disgrace.

The Venusian stood in front of Maxwell. What was she waiting for?

Maxwell looked up at Venusian. “Kill me already.”

The silver armor on the Venusian’s arms shimmered and melted away to reveal light purple skin. The melting continued to expose thick shoulders and a stout neck. The armor faded from her chest to reveal massive purple breasts topped with black nipples. Next were wide hips and bulging thighs. Smooth sex lips glistened with perspiration or desire. The silver armor continued to fade until the Venusian was barefoot.

The floral scent intensified. Despite the pain in his stomach and wrist, Maxwell felt his cock pulsing within his boxers.

Only the helmet remained. The Venusian touched a spot on her chin. The front of the helmet vanished.

The Venusian was beautiful. Bright yellow eyes stared at him. A pointed nose flared. Thick dark purple lips were slightly open to give hints of the pink tongue inside.

There were slight discolorations around her eye and lips. It was a lighter shade of purple. Were those bruises?

Maxwell smiled. They were bruises from where he had shot her. “Bet you felt that,” he said. If he was going to die, at least he gave the enemy a black, err, purpler eye.

The Venusian opened her mouth. A strange whistling sound came out. Was that their language?

“Yeah, fuck you too,” Maxwell said.

The Venusian stopped down and grabbed the back of Maxwell’s neck. A tight vice cinched around him. She stood and lifted him from the ground. Her head tilted to the side and her lips pursed. Up and down her yellow eyes roamed as she studied him.

Maxwell didn’t like the look in her eyes. It reminded him of the President eyeing a well done steak.

The Venusian grabbed the back of Maxwell’s head and pulled him to between her breasts. Purple flesh engulfed Maxwell’s bald head. Powerful arms cinched around him, squeezing her giant tits tighter around him.

Maxwell fought back. He tried punching but his hands either grabbed soft tit or the hard bulge of muscles. Kicking was useless as the alien’s powerful body easily absorbed his feeble strikes. He resorted to wiggling and squirming but the grip of the Venusian was as tight as a cunt.

Desperate, Maxwell tried biting. A sweet taste tilled his mouth. The Venusian shuddered. Ha! He might get out of this after all!

The need to sleep washed over Maxwell. No! He knew this feeling from his training: his ceratoid artery was being pinched! The Venusian was putting him to sleep between her lush purple breasts!

But why? Why not kill him or reduce him to ash? What terrible reason did the Venusian soldier have for subduing him? Where would he wake up?

Maxwell passed into unconsciousness and dreamed of purple pillows.