It had happened a drop over at Phi Nox 5. A routine, operation, really. Some mop up work intended to clean out the last rebels from the Sirius Confedereation. The scans were clean. No blips on the radar. He had entered a ruin of a house outside the capital. There were nothing but rats and dog-hybrids around, as far as he could see.
But then, suddenly, there she was, the Valkyrie: Black, beautiful and with eyes full of hatred of the Terran Alliance. She was clearly one of those that had seen her sister been captured and brought to Earth and sold as slaves.
He tried to react. But he was to slow. Her reality dysfunction gun was already pointing at him, and the wave hit him in the chest like a fist.
He went down screaming in agony as his body twisted, spasmed and changed.
They dragged him over their drop ship. He knew he should have resisted them, but he was in shock, watching the bumps on his chest, feeling the long hair brushing his cheek, while realizing that his mind was changing too.
He had heard the stories. They loved to change their prisoners into the cliché of the blond bimbo. That was their way of humiliating them.
They kept their prisoners for a few weeks, urging them to give in to their new desires willingly, letting them know that they no longer were in control of their urges, waiting for them to beg to be fucked. And then they shipped them back to Earth, where they would meet their superiors and their families.
They were no longer suited for soldiering and incapable of any intellectually demanding kind of work.
They connected him to the conditioning bench and gave him the two vibrating phallic tubes. Their buzz filled his head with promiscuous promises of pleasure. He resisted. He resisted. He resisted. He re...sis... He started to suck on the warm metal.
The shape triggered instincts deeply buried inside his feminine soul. His wet snatch called for the other rod, and as he pushed it inside it was as if a string snapped inside him. The blonde girl started to giggle.
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This one is for New-Daughter
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