The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Ship:

“Contact!” the Sensor Operator yelled across the bridge.

“Where?” asked the Captain. His ship patrolled the Empire’s outer provinces, looking for pirates and troublemakers.

The Sensorman quickly checked his monitors, and clarified “37 degrees to starboard, 14 degrees declination, 92 kilometers away. At least a dozen points of movement, Sir!”

“Bring it up on the main screen, Jimmy.”

Jimmy pressed buttons on his console, and the large monitor displayed sensor feed showing a group of specks, starships in the distance, emerging from behind rings of a nearby planet.

“The Syndicate, Sir?” suggested the Second Mate, a man named Kent. Several Imperial convoys recently disappeared in this sector and Star Command suspected the Independent Guild’s Syndicate.

Captain Steihl did not respond. The number of moving points represented a bigger task force than the Syndicate could muster. Leaning forward in his chair to squint at the monitor—Something bothered him about those ships.

“Jimmy. Enlarge the image, please.” the Captain requested.

Sensorman James poked his controls. A moment passed while sensor equipment lagged, adjusting focus. Everyone held their breath. Finally the screen’s image magnified.

“Dear God!” Someone gasped at the enemy craft of a freakish, alien design. Organically built. Ugly, strange, and terrifying. “What the fuck are they?”

The Captain quietly stated “Venacori.”

Murmurs swept the bridge. Kent simply remarked “Oh shit.”

Not many people heard of Venacori, let alone actually saw them. Aliens seemed to only exist in legend, almost like myths. Of the whole crew, only Captain Steihl allegedly ever glimpsed Venacori before, during an engagement his previous tour. According to rumors, a narrow escape.

The Pilot, Lena Tracer, did not hear the other officers nervously murmuring. She froze, staring entranced with mixed fear and fascination at the strange alien vessels on the monitor.

“They’ve jammed our signals.” Communications officer Beth announced. “We can’t send a distress call.”

The Captain stayed cool, calmly giving orders. “Alright. Weapons, launch a spread of missiles. Helm, turn towards the other side of the planet. Hard burn. We’ll slingshot around while they deal with missiles.”

Everyone understood. Time to flee.

Lena unfroze from trance. Pushing the image of those bizarre ships from mind to focus on her job. Though young, Miss Tracer ranked a top pilot, graduated from space academy with honors. She expertly angled the cruiser onto its new course.

Weapons officer Martin launched a salvo as they began to accelerate away. Missiles sped off, curving towards the cluster of enemies.

The monitor showed aliens dispersing, minimizing damage from missile explosions. Evasive action distracted them, and the Imperial Cruiser gained a head start. Using the planet’s gravity to gain extra speed they hurried away from the aliens.

“It looks like we’re losing them.” Jimmy said, watching the sensor feed.

Tension relaxed slightly. Hope started to return.

Suddenly Jimmy yelled “Alert! Additional contacts, directly ahead!”

The monitor switched to forward-view. Several dozen more Venacori fighters launched from asteroids where they waited in hiding, and moved to cut off the human’s escape.

“Swerve away from them.” The Captain said. “Keep some distance. Venacori don’t use long-range weapons, but they’re deadly up close.”

The pilot twisted her controls, unable to turn enough. Their cruiser moved too fast, whipping around the curvature of planetary orbit.

“Helm!” The Captain spat. “Turn, dammit!”

“Sorry Captain.” the pilot apologized. “We’re committed.”

Everyone on deck realized that by trying for this escape route, they unknowingly cornered themselves. The teeth of the ambush closed.

“Clever bastards.” Steihl muttered.

Captain Steihl held his head, scratching scalp through short hair. Everyone turned to him, hoping he clutched a trick up his sleeve. But the look in his eyes said not. Only two options: turn and crash into the planet, or; struggle vainly in resistance.

So the Captain snapped up his head and said, “Alright. Weapons, fire everything. We won’t let ’em take us without a fight.”

Martin turned to his console and began launching missiles. Before the first salvo left their bays, the closest Venacori rammed into their ship, a glancing blow. The Venacori took little damage because of its heavy, armored shell. The human vessel, however, buckled and crumpled at the point of impact.

Collision shook the cruiser. Sparks rained from the bridge ceiling. Some officers fell from their stations.

“Take battle stations, people!” Kent hollered “We’re engaged.”

Officers resumed their posts, strapping in securely. Weapons controller Martin, still seated, continued launching armament.

Missiles tracked the Venacori as they tried to dodge. Trails of exhaust snaked everywhere like strands of hair hanging in space—a chaotic furball. The tough aliens moved fast but could not avoid taking some damage from humanity’s harsh explosives.

Some nearby explosions sent shockwaves rocking the cruiser. Already the battle became a point-blank engagement. Up close, the enemy looked even uglier and more bizarre. Resembling giant space octopi, only less symmetrical in shape and with extra appendages sprouting in every direction.

Lena Tracer found them disturbing yet exotically interesting. Both creepy and beautiful. The young pilot forced herself to ignore their strange form and tried to steer out of the chaos.

Another Venacori rammed their starboard side, successfully grappling the cruiser with its tentacles. It gripped the ship and held fast. Then it reached an appendage to their engines and tore apart their drive.

“We’ve lost thrust, Captain.” Miss Tracer reported.

Other Venacori could catch them easily now. Several latched onto the cruiser to begin chewing and tearing into the hull. Some finished smashing the engines while others tore open missile bays to wreck them.

“All launchers disabled. I’ve got nothing left.” Martin announced. “We’re helpless.”

“Sensors are down too.” Jimmy added.

Vibrations reverberated through the ship structure as aliens ripped open compartments.

Captain Steihl commanded “Get to the escape pods. It’s the only hope.”

Every officer obeyed, abandoning the bridge. The Captain stayed behind, repeating his command over intercom to the whole cruiser.

“All hands hear this. Abandon ship. Abandon ship. We’re defeated. Abandon ship.” Blasting from loudspeakers throughout the cruiser.

Corridors full of people running every direction. A group of marines pushed past on their way to seal a breach. Martin took command of the soldiers, leading them off to fight and buy time for others to escape.

Everyone else rushed to escape pods. Lena climbed inside a pod, quickly buckled the safety harness, sealed helmet against vacuum, and pressed the emergency release. Explosive charges blasted the shuttle loose, sending it hurtling away from the cruiser.

She deftly steered between two flailing tentacles, and cranked up the tiny shuttle’s thrusters, gaining speed to fly away from the knot of enemies swarming the disabled cruiser.

Now with some breathing space, she evaluated the situation. Other pods fled nearby. They grouped together and made plans on channel five.

“Now what?” someone asked.

“Now, we keep running.” Kent replied.

Increasing speed and leaving the battle site. Behind them, Venacori busily shredded the cruiser, almost like a pack of animals. Lena watched a rearview, entranced by the strangeness of it. They used such bizarre weapons and tactics.

Jimmy’s panicked tone caught her attention. He said “We’ve got trouble people.”

“Where?” somebody asked. It sounded like Kent.

Flying nearby, Beth broadcast “I see them. By the rings.”

A group of Venacori did not participate in the battle. The same task force that originally chased them into the ambush had hung back to watch. Now they moved to intercept the fleeing shuttles.

The Captain’s voice came over the channel. Frequent bursts of static cut his words. Confusing shouts and sounds of gunfire filled the background behind him.

“They’ve breached the . . . from the main corridor! We’re bunkered in . . . bridge. Martin! Seal that entry closed! We need to . . .”

Back at the cruiser, their Captain led the remaining crew in a last-ditch fight on the command deck. The escaping pods listened in horror.

“. . . tentacles everywhere! They . . re grabbing us and . . . docking modules . . pressed against our hull . . . Oh my god! They’re taking us . . onboard their vessels! . . . They’re taking us alive! . . . Dear god . . save u—”

His transmission abruptly cut off.

The fleeing shuttles had little time to mourn their Captain. Venacori fell upon them. The human craft scattered evasively but Venacori encircled, herding them, cutting off all routes of escape.

“Everyone for themselves!” Kent ordered.

A tentacle grabbed one pod, pulling it into a hole in a Venacori ship. The shuttle disappeared. Others began suffering the same fate. The openings might possibly be hanger bays, but they looked like mouths.

“Holy shit!” Somebody exclaimed over the channel. “Do you suppose they eat metal, and they think our pods are food?”

Kent hollered “No! Shut up and try to get away!—” Then his transmission became static.

Other people shouted over communicator, but Lena lost track of the conversation. Focusing on piloting, swerving, and avoiding grasping tentacles. Several meters away, Beth got snatched. A tentacle wrapped Beth’s ship and curled, pulling her inside.

“AaaaAAHHH!—” Beth screamed.

Beth’s craft passed inside the hole which closed after cutting Beth’s transmission silent. Moments later, the Venacori spat out her pod but Beth no longer occupied the cockpit.

“I think they . . . want to study us—” Jimmy observed as he too became captured.

Lena flew near the edge of the scramble, and spotted an opportunity. With expert piloting skill she blasted straight past an enemy, practically brushing its skin, to maneuver outside the encirclement, almost free. At the last moment, the tip of a sucker snagged her craft.

“NO!” she cried.

The young pilot slammed hard on thrusters, but her shuttle did not break free. Frantically searching for another option, but none presented. The alien ship took her aboard.

Its hanger bay door closed like an iris. Organic docking arms emerged from the walls—attaching to her shuttle, finding its seams and pulling, ripping open the pod’s canopy. Lena shrieked.

A tentacle reached inside, wrapped her body, and removed her from the pod. Struggling produced no effect against the strong appendage.

The hanger bay door reopened and docking arms tossed her empty shuttle outward to space. With pod ejected, the hangar’s anus sphinctered closed again.

Air whooshed into the chamber from somewhere, pressurizing. She heard a distant rumble within the ship, the sound of internal flatulences and pumping atmosphere.

The big arm dropped the tiny human to the floor. Then all tentacles retracted back into the walls.

Lena quickly stood and pulled her sidearm. Pointing her pistol and spinning to look for targets. Nothing moved. She stood alone in an empty room.

With shuttle gone, no method existed for her to leave. Stuck, trapped, all alone in an alien environment. Starting to panic. Fear swelled. With effort, the young woman forced herself to stay calm.

“Don’t lose control, girl.” muttering to herself. “As long as you keep your wits, you can watch and wait for opportunities to escape.”

She began examining her surroundings. The room looked a pinkish color. Fluid flowed in semi-transparent veins behind the walls. Taking a step to discover the floor yielded like spongy flesh.

She wondered, “Is the whole ship alive?” If so, these aliens possess some amazing bio-technology.

The walls sprouted various organs. Some wall-lumps glowed with bio-luminescence, illuminating the area. A few organs on the wall looked like camera eyestalks, watching her, occasionally blinking. That realization made her shiver. Other lumps seemed incomprehensible, with strange unknown purposes.

She started exploring the hangar perimeter. At first seemingly a short distance, but curvy walls turned deceptive. Folds and corners kept concealing things. A recessed section of wall hid a small round hatch. Sensing her approach, the door opened, like an iris. She stepped back in surprise.

Cautiously, with pistol pointed forward, she walked to the opening. An empty hallway twisted away. Where was the crew?

“h-hello . . .” she said timidly.

Hardening her courage, Lena switched on helmet speaker and repeated, with amplification. “Hello?”

No response, not even an echo. She stepped forward into the hallway. Behind her the aperture closed suddenly. Lena whirled and pounded on it. The door stretched like a rubbery membrane, but did not yield.

She considered shooting at the barrier but opted to conserve ammo, instead turning to face the corridor. Lumpy tunnel twisted like intestine, winding off into the distance.

Pointing her gun, advancing a short ways. Still, nobody showed themselves. Creeping cautiously for a good distance until finally realizing the ridiculousness of over-caution. She re-holstered the pistol.

Walking the empty passage, exploring deeper into the ship, she passed other gates at semi-regular intervals. The doors did not open and pushing on them produced no result.

After an unknown distance one gateway did open automatically. Peering through the portal she saw a tiny, empty chamber, like a closet. On the far side another door waited, closed.

“What’s going on here?” loudly querying the empty corridor, “Where are you leading me!?” Her suit speaker squealed.

No response. Lena sighed in defeat and stepped into the tiny room. The membrane closed behind her, sealing off the hallway. But the other door did not open. Leaving her trapped in a rather small chamber.

Pale green liquid suddenly sprayed from the ceiling, covering her suit. The stuff ran like slimy, thick mucus.

Her space suit began dissolving.

“Oh my God!” She blurted, worried. Am I getting digested?

But no, the fluid only ate plastic suit, leaving her unharmed. Dissolved plastic washed down, soaking into the porous floor. She spun, looking for somewhere to run, but the tiny room offered no exits. Green slime continued showering down, eating more suit. Lena pounded desperately on the doors, but they did not open.

A hole melted in her helmet. Warm mucus sprayed onto her head. Reflexively shielding her face with hands. Fortunately, the stuff did not hurt skin in any way, nor did it burn eyes.

More suit melted away. With holster dissolving, the pistol dropped to the floor and slid amidst the slosh of liquid at her feet. Bending to pick up her gun just as a river of liquid washed it away toward a drain pore in the floor. Half blindly grabbing for it but missing, failing to attain a solid grip on the slimy handle, it slipped from reach into the hole. Her only weapon disappeared, swallowed by the floor.

Overcome by helplessness, Lena sat down and wept. Tears mixing with the slimy juice washing her body. When her suit finished dissolving away the liquid stopped raining down and she sat naked and dripping.

After the shower turned off, a door opened. Curiosity grew stronger than self-pity. She stopped crying, looked up, and wiped her eyes clear. The orifice led into another room. More curious than afraid, Lena rose and stepped through. As always, the portal closed behind her.

The air felt warm but liquid evaporating off skin cooled, causing a tingling feeling. Nipples tightened.

A strange fresh smell filled the warm air, carrying a scent of something musky, almost hormonal. Accustomed to stale, recycled ventilation, this stuff smelled much better. Breathing deep for a moment just enjoying the pleasant aroma. Relaxing.

Stepping further into the chamber. The floor warm and alive under bare feet. At the room’s center the floor bulged upward, a small hill or mound, forming something like a chair. Its top surface curved slightly, suggesting a seat and backrest.

Mind racing with curious questions about the fascinating alien ship. No longer scared, instead feeling warm and relaxed, comfortable, and slightly tingly. The shower liquid covering her earlier by now had either evaporated or soaked into skin.

Turning to study the walls, noting other doors made of the same membrane. Various organs protruded from the walls. She recognized a few, such as bio-lights and camera eyestalks. Some other lumps almost looked like organic speakers, or voice boxes.

Strolling near the wall to closely study a few protrusions. Some of them gasped faintly, pumping in fresh warm air. Inhaling close to the vents, she definitely detected a subtle pleasant aroma. Nice and relaxing.

Glancing calmly upwards at the domed ceiling to notice a cluster of tentacles hanging motionless above the mound. Some as thick in diameter as human legs, others thinner, including several small tendrils about the same thickness as fingers. All of them hung limp, sometimes twitching slightly while they rested.

Alone in the empty room she absently asked “Hello?”

“Hello.” The response came from vocal organs on the wall. Too surprised and startled to respond, she stood silent. “What is your name?” the voice inquired.

She considered lying, or even simply not answering, but attempting to deceive captors often proves useless. Enemies possess too many ways to force the truth. Besides, right then she felt too mellow to lie.

“I’m Lena.” She replied to the empty chamber. “Who are you?”

“What my own kind call me, you could not pronounce. You may call me Valloshen.”

“Okay, Valloshen.” She assented calmly. Curious, “What about your own kind? What is your race called?”

“Your human word for us is Venacori.”

“Right,” she agreed. “How do you know our language?” Suddenly swaying a bit dizzy.

“Have a seat.” Valloshen suggested. “Then we may continue our conversation.”

“Okay.” Good idea.

She stumbled to sit upon the mound at the center of the room. It seemed to almost slowly shift or move beneath her, warm and soft against her bare ass. Quite comfortable actually.

Her legs dangled a bit awkwardly so she picked up her feet and found spots either side to brace them, repositioning her bare bottom further up onto the seat. Feeling better off her feet, perhaps able to focus her thoughts, somewhat.

“So what about our language?” the young woman asked, yawning. “Ahh . . . How come you speak it?”

Feeling tired she leaned back to sit reclined, nearly laying back. The yielding surface cradled her nicely, almost seeming to conform to her weight and shape like mattress foam, so warm and comfy under her bare back.

“We captured others of your kind. We’ve learned your language from them.”

The sleepy young woman shifted position a bit, settling down and sinking into the cushy, impressible material which slowly, imperceptively reclined further. Her foggy thoughts eventually clicked. “The convoys that disappeared in this sector, you took them!”

“Yes.” Valloshen admitted, “My kind are responsible for your convoys.”

Glancing around the vacant chamber she asked “Why don’t you show yourself, Valloshen?”

“You can already see me.” replied the voice.

“Oh.” she simply answered. Now reclining so far back almost like laying on a comfortable, rippling waterbed. Tired and relaxed. Shifting position to let her arms and legs find their most natural spots, splayed somewhat. “Where are you?”

“I surround you. You are inside me.”

“Oh.” the tired girl mumbled, bending her knees apart. Relaxing and settling deeper into the warm cushiony bed that moved slowly, just small folds sort of rippling subtly, prompting her to shift position occasionally. “You’re the ship?”

“I do not think of myself as a ship. However, that is your best word to describe me, so it should suffice.”

Rippling folds beneath pressed gently on her calves and thighs in a way sort of guiding her legs to shift further apart. The human female obliged without really noticing, concentrating on the dialogue. Wondering, “Where are your crew?”

While conversation continued, she did not notice the bed slowly guide her into a position with limbs splayed wide.

“I have no crew. I have only passengers.”

A starship without crew. How strange and fascinating, Lena thought as she rested, settling deeply into the comfortable, almost gelatinous material.

“Passengers. . . what passengers?” the sleepy girl mumbled, laying there comfortably as the cushy surface slowly and subtly molded unnoticed around parts of her.

“Others of your kind, humans I captured.”

“Oh. Okay, then.” That sounds fine. Comfy, relaxed, and unaware of flabby bedfolds gradually creeping around each wrist and ankle like supple fleshy cuffs. She asked, “Where are they?”

“In other chambers, inside me. They wait anxiously for you to be processed. Then they will join you.”

Processed. That word bothered her. She tried to focus, but had difficulty concentrating. Instead asking “Why d’you keep people. . . inside you?”

“Our race discovered that you tiny humans prove useful. You can protect us from other small creatures such as parasites. And you can clean our insides, helping keep our bodies healthy.”

“Oh.” Interesting.

“We’re planning a project where we land some humans on the surface of planets, to help build crèches for our young. Eventually we might send some of you back to your home worlds as envoys, diplomats, or spies—to help bring about our vision of arrogating responsibility for all your interstellar travel so we become humanity’s only spaceships.”

It continued, “. . . That is, once we own sufficient numbers of your kind to spare for such projects. For now we keep and breed humans as pets and servants. You will serve wonderfully in that capacity. That is, after you’ve been properly conditioned to accept your new role.”

Finally realizing the meaning of what it said, she blurted “Conditioned?!”

“Yes.” It explained “Your body chemistry works rather simple, as does your minds, compared to us Venacori. A relatively easy procedure to condition you humans into obedience with chemical and physical stimulus. I’ve done it many times before, and I am now quite proficient.”

Fear sharpened her focus, helping make her somewhat alert. But her thoughts still reacted slowly. The odor in the air. I’ve been drugged! She realized. Terrified, she tried to sit upright but the bed did not allow that, gripping gently but tightly. Though flexible, it held firm. “Wait. No!” Arguing, “I don’t want to be conditioned!”

“You will. I designed the process to feel quite enjoyable. Every human I captured found it very pleasurable. Soon you will too. Afterwards, you shall join them and become part of the community inside me.”

She fought to pull arms loose but discovered strong flaps wrapped her wrists, holding them. Other folds gripped ankles, preventing her legs from moving.

“Please stop. You might hurt yourself.” Valloshen said calmly. “Just relax.”

Struggling proved pointless. The bed held her helpless. Laying face upwards completely naked with limbs spread lewdly, wrists and ankles cuffed.

Still she thrashed, straining to get free. A fierce attempt but unsuccessful. Though she dared to hope, maybe, her efforts seemed to loosen its grip slightly.

“Stop struggling, you cannot escape.” Valloshen said. Then added, “We shall begin now.”

Shadows shifted above as hanging tentacles stirred to life. In desperation, she tensed and fought once more. The cuffs maybe yielded a bit. With more time and effort perhaps she might break its grip, but time expired.

Tentacles moved down on each side, curling around her limbs like strong ropes to tie her spread. She shrieked and struggled completely helpless to their superior strength. Small, agile tendrils moved down from the ceiling too, touching and lightly caressing.

Panicked, she begged “No! Oh please, no! Don’t do this!. . .”

A hollow tube descended from the ceiling, its end pressing against her face, muffling her cries. Tiny tendrils on the rim of the tube wrapped around her head, holding it in place over her face. She smelled the musky aroma of heavily drugged air, pumped down the tube.

Holding her breath and struggling desperately, but strong ropelike tentacles kept her arms and legs completely helpless. Soon needing to gasp for breath. It tasted thick with a cocktail of pheromones, aphrodisiacs, and sedatives. Struggles weakening.

Two additional appendages uncurled, their ends shaped like suction cups which attached over Lena’s ears. The fleshy cups sprouted tiny speaker buds, whispering into her ears. Soothing, steady whispers urging surrender.

Holding her breath again, she struggled frantically. But her muscles acted weak. Wanting to relax. Lungs aching for breath. Inevitably giving up and gasping deeply at the sweet air. Laying there relaxing, listening to quiet whispers.

Meanwhile thin flexible tendrils continued to touch lightly along her belly, breasts, and thighs. The tips of those strands with incredible dexterity, massaging, rubbing, and stroking gently but insistently.

Skin tingling sensuously. Some drug added to the shower left her sensitive from head to toe. Realizing the gentle, playful tendrils felt nice. Sexy. Pleasurable. Caresses starting to induce arousal. That fact both scary and exciting.

Delicate tendrils continued to pet her body while speech buds whispered; Surrender and feel pleasure. Her swollen clit and labia so sensitive. Though she did not want it, a part of Lena responded. Her pussy moistened.

With renewed terror she struggled futilely against her bonds. After only a few moments, giving up and relaxing. Surrendering. Laying there wide open, vulnerable, listening to quiet whispers and becoming increasingly aroused. More and more wet. Whispers praised her surrender and she earned a small reward.

Agile tentacles coiled around her breasts, massaging them. Gentle suckers attached to firm nipples, lightly sucking, sparking tingles of pleasure. Lena squirmed, one last small and futile attempt at resistance.

Whispers planted ideas deep into her aroused, relaxed, drugged, defenseless mind. Relax and obey. Stimulus feeling so pleasurable. A quiet voice instructing to just relax and enjoy it. Obedience brings pleasure. Unable to help it, she let herself relax and enjoy the feelings. More rewards followed.

Suckers gently teased and tugged at hard nipples, while other tendrils caressed elsewhere on her body. The healthy young woman squirmed, not entirely in resistance but partly in growing arousal. Feeling so horny. Held completely helpless on her back with arms splayed, legs apart and knees bent, spread open pussy completely exposed, and nothing she could do about it.

A tentacle brushed across slick pussy lips. Lena gasped and quivered at the contact. Its flexible tip slid lightly along her folds. Another tendril joined it, exploring her sensitive pussy. Parting her labia, gently touching and twiddling her engorged clit. Extra sensitive there, her swollen clit throbbed. A moan escaped her throat, unable to help from pushing her hips towards the touch.

A stiffer, phallic tentacle found her vaginal opening. The long, thick phallus slowly pushed inside just a little bit, almost teasingly sliding the tip in and out a few times. She gasped and moaned. Slowly it pushed a little deeper, eliciting more moans.

The fat phallus began fucking her. Deeply aroused she responded instinctively, grinding hips against it and clenching her pussy muscles around the stiff thrusting muscle as it slipped and writhed inside her.

Other tendrils toyed with her clit, and still others massaged her breasts, tweaking hard nipples or groping the rest of her body. All while quiet, almost subconscious whispers kept suggesting surrender.

Pleasurable stimulus became too much. Crisis approaching. Moaning, wiggling, panting, clenching, and gasping deeply for breath from the face-hugging tube. Cresting so close, but she could not climax. Lena understood that reward follows when she agrees to obey.

Eager for release, she promised “I will obey. Please let me cum!”

Tentacles continued pleasuring and holding her on the edge. Reading her expertly, it judged how much the human truly meant it. The more genuine her submission, the more pleasure she received.

Begging desperately “OHHhh, I will obey. Please make me cum!” Repeatedly with increasing sincerity as her pleasure climbed slightly with each repetition. “Oh Please, I will obey! I will obey!!”

Finally her reward came—a blissful, mind-shattering orgasm, the best cum of her life. Whispers planted ideas in her thoughts during intense waves of pleasure. Afterwards laying limp, relaxed and completely open to deep programming of her malleable mind.

After a short rest, tentacles and whispered suggestions built her arousal afresh for an encore of the whole experience. And then another and another.

Repeatedly reaching orgasmic reward for offering obedience with ever increasing sincerity. Brainwashing via pleasure. Repetitive conditioning molded her mind, turning the young human female into a submissive, eager slave to the Venacori species.

Processing finally finished, it left her to rest, exhausted and completely spent. Deep asleep, cuddled nude in the embrace of her new Master who whispered softly into dreaming ears, reinforcing her conditioning.

When Lena woke up, Master led her to a room containing lots of delicious smelling food secretly laced with fertility medication, which she devoured, ravenous after her earlier exertions and exercise.

Food settling nicely in her belly as the ship introduced Lena to other humans aboard. Once convoy traders or merchant pilots captured months earlier, or settlers from the remotest colonies taken years in the past, plus their children born in captivity.

Lena spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Beth, processed in a different chamber and awoken minutes before Lena. They embraced hello, naked bodies pressed together, happy to see each other.

The people all lived completely naked. Nudity allowed for regular, spontaneous orgies. Their culture knew little entertainment besides sex. Most of the women looked pregnant to some degree or another. Welcoming their two newest members, the nice people began celebrating, a traditional initiation ritual.

Hands caressed everywhere. Casual fondling, snuggling en masse, turning to a huge group grope. Multiple partners touching each other and kissing, giving oral pleasure all around, and fucking. Horny men took turns spurting cum into fertile pussies.

Lena enthusiastically participated in all aspects of sexual festivities, accepting her new life.