A Different Kind of Invasion, Chapter 1: Worker Intake
Accepting a job from a member of an alien species doesn't turn out the way Morgan expected. Generous pay, advanced medical care, and a chance to visit another world sounds amazing on paper, until he discovers that the aliens don't think consent (or keeping humans as pets) is nearly as big a deal as he does.
Chapter 1 of 2 of a commission for
Worker Intake (Chapter 1)
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"Some foreign workers have trouble adjusting to alien culture," the alien noted. "Do you think this would be a problem for you?" The creature appeared to be reptilian… at least, insofar as the shape of their muzzle, digitigrade legs, and thickly tapered tails would suggest. Morgan couldn't say for certain, however; his interviewer was encased head-to-toe in some form of lightweight environmental suit, making it impossible to see what the surface of the creature was actually like, or tell what aspects of it shape was from its body versus its clothing.
"I can manage, I think," the human responded, shifting slightly in the folding chair he'd been given. "What sort of culture shock are we talking about, exactly?" By that point in the application process he was feeling rather exhausted, after the battery of both medical and skills tests he'd undergone, but he assumed by the fact that he'd made it all the way to an interview he had at least some shot.
The prospect of working on an alien planet was something no human had even considered a mere decade ago… but that was before the Vishian had landed on Earth. The world had held its breath, centuries of science-fiction prompting all nations to prepare for the worst, unsure as to whether or not the incomprehensible vessel had arrived to befriend or conquer; whether to help the relatively primitive humans or unleash a plague upon them. The leading experts in the (until that moment) theoretical field of xenoethics and xenoeconomics assured world governors that the aliens' intentions were, most likely, peaceful in nature. Space was an enormous place, after all, with so little life in it that they had been unsure as to whether or not Earth was its only cradle. Surely if an advanced alien race wanted any material found in space, they could harvest it from one of the infinite lifeless bodies drifting through space; why bother traveling so far to Earth if not because it had something special: Life, something so rare and delicate in the universe that no intelligent species could possibly wish to harm it.
Once peaceful contact was made it became clear that the experts were, at least, partially correct: it was indeed life that had drawn Earth's visitors to it. Something so noble as "uniting Humanity with their equals from the stars" was not, however, the aliens' primary goals.
The Vishians, it seemed, were a race obsessed with trade. Some primordial urge retained from their ancient ancestors drove them to collect, and distribute, any and all useful objects they could get their three-fingered hands on, which in their post-spaceage civilization had resulted in their becoming a broker of all things alien; any sort of novelty, tool, or service unique to another species's civilization was sought out and bartered for, in some mad attempt to bring everything the universe had to offer back to their home planet, to be experienced by any Vishian who could afford it.
"Ah, some things that are normal to one species are quite taboo to others," The Vishian explained. "Example: on Vish there are many species; eating meat in public is very frowned upon. But on Earth here, you have buildings dedicated to it! Dozens of earthlings all eating meats, right in front of each other, with no shame at all! Very strange to Vishians. Contrast: on Earth sex is very private, secret thing; only do when no-one else is around. On Vish this would seem very silly: why hide what all creatures do?"
Morgan nodded slowly, a frown and a furrowing brow crossing his features for a moment, the human running the fingers of one hand through his tangled dark-brown mane, scratching the back of his head once his hand reached that point. "Yeah, I think I get it… gonna have to not freak out about the stuff I'm not used to, and learn not to do things that freak out the locals, huh?" he surmised.
The alien nodded its head rather quickly. "Yes, exactly! Some humans… think human way of doing things is the only right way, and get very upset when other creatures do things differently. Causes much troubles for Vishian service brokers when workers interfere with business."
"What sort of work will I be doing, exactly?" Morgan asked. The Vishians had been… not overtly evasive about why they wanted "primitive" human workers in what must have been a far more advanced civilization, given that they were able to travel the stars. It was more that their responses were rather vague, often punctuated with the admission that some things didn't quite translate well from their language to English.
"Earthling things!" the suited alien declared. "Some wealthy Vishians are fascinated by aliens. They pay good value to see how aliens behave. Even some normal things normal Earthlings do seem very exotic to Vishians," he nodded enthusiastically again.
"Wait, so you're hiring humans to be… what, like pets in a menagerie? You're paying people a fortune in Earth money, just to sit around in a zoo for five years and amuse some rich alien?" Morgan asked. The concept sounded rather strange to him… and to many others as well: In just the eight years since the Vishian emissary had landed, hundreds of anti-Vish groups had cropped up to campaign against their presence on Earth… not that even the most compelling propaganda could deny the Visihans their pick from hundreds of thousands of humans thrilled by the chance to visit an alien planet. Despite natural worries, the small number humans that had returned from such contracts in the short time since they'd begun to be run all rated their experience quite highly, and some apparently had even elected to stay past their 5 year term.
"Very profitable," his host assured him. "Vishian goods are advanced compared to Earthlings'; they trade much for them. Service companies negotiate alien contracts, get paid Vishian currency, buy Vishian tools and materials that sell for much more on Earth, use to pay Earthlings' contracts."
"Yeah, that makes sense," he responded, even if he couldn't really understand the strange alien business. But then, if the Vishians were willing to pay him millions of dollars per month just to sit in an enclosure and watch TV or similar, who was he to say no?
The creature clasped his hands together over the holographic desk he was using to take notes, shifting the gloves of his suit to rub them together in what Morgan hoped was an expression of joy or satisfaction. "You are ready to go, then?" he asked. "Willing, prepared, accepting the contract? Please know that it is very expensive to send you to other worlds and back; once you leave you will not be able to return until your contract has earned enough to pay your way back."
Morgan took a deep breath and sighed, shrugging and nodding his head. "As ready as I'll ever be," he said.
The Vishian repeated the gesture and stood up from his own seat, motioning for the human to follow. "Yes, come with me then," he said, opening the interview cubicle door and leading his guest back out into the hall. "One last test for you, now: we will decontaminate and fit you for your environment suit. Many humans find this process uncomfortable. If you can complete it, we know you will be good for contract.
"Uncomfortable?" Morgan echoed. "Like… air-jet-at-the-eye-doctor uncomfortable? Or more like tongue-depressor uncomfortable?"
"I do not know how uncomfortable those things are," the alien stated, whilst fiddling with the controls to a side door to a room labeled in some form of incomprehensible glowing script. Inside was what appeared to be a lab of some sort… at least, judging by the numerous technology-packed stations lining its walls. "Please, remove all things you wear or carry, and step inside here," he instructed, pointing to the door of some sort of ceiling-to-floor, clear cylinder, about two meters across.
"You want me to strip?" Morgan asked. Several of the medical exams had involved him undressing to his underwear, but not completely.
The alien nodded. "You do not have to; some humans prefer to keep their clothes on for this part. But anything you wear will be made quite messy by the process, so you should remove anything you would want to keep nice for when you return," he explained.
Morgan doubted he would care about that particular set of clothes in five years… but then, the alien had said that this was part of a test, and he did need to get used to ignoring the things the Vishians would call 'silly human taboos.' "Alright, then," he said, starting to peel his shirt off his back. After all, he doubted the alien wanted to be ogling his body; it was pure clinical procedure to him. Once fully nude he stepped up onto the platform in the center of the clear plasticlike cylinder, turning to face towards the entrance while the door slid shut and sealed itself to the rest of the compartment. "Huh. Now I know how fish feel," he thought to himself. After a few moments a dull clunk reverberated from deeper inside the machinery outside his pod, and he felt the brief vibration of the grated floor lurching beneath his now bare feet. The cold surface of the metal alloy started to feel warm against his toes, and a strange scent like that of melted plastic mixed with the flavor of iron. Below him, the distant sound of churning liquid grew closer. "Is this some kind of… vertical bathtub?" he wondered silently, glancing down with one side of his mouth scrunching.
True to his guess a liquid started to seep up from the porous floor, but it wasn't the soapy water mix he was expecting! Far from it, a viscus purple glossy substance appeared, clinging to the bottom of his right foot like glue when he instinctively lifted it. As it's level rose it also seemed to "crawl" up his skin, some of the fluid clinging midway up his left shin before it even reached ankle level in the rest of the chamber. "Uh…" Morgan stammered in hesitation; if standing naked in a glass tube had been awkward, having his skin become slowly surrounded in whatever-it-was was downright uncomfortable! Merely owing to the fact that it was a liquid allowed it to work its way into every crease and crevice of his legs, and it was steadily working its way up from there. "I'm not so sure about this!" he raised his voice to be heard from outside the pod.
"Please remain calm," the suited reptile insisted. "the suiting process is very harmless."
"Suiting?!? What in the-" he started to protest, holding his arms up and out to keep them off of his torso, where the substance had already begun molding itself around his chest. He didn't get to finish the phrase before a startled gasp cut him off, hands plunging into the purple bath to reflexively grab at his crotch.
The fluid, it seemed, had become semi-solid wherever it touched his skin, forming a layer of rubbery gel around him. That wasn't what had caught him off guard, however; his hands quickly grasped the end of a robotic cable that had snaked its way up through the thick liquid and suctioned a sort of tube securely around his penis. A similar device found the crevice of his rear as well, the thin tube slowly sinking into his anus.
"Oh god… The hell is going on here?!?" he gasped, bending his knees and hunching forwards a short ways. The sleeve closed around his cock via suction, and the tube behind him began to inflate, forming a ball shape inside his colon while the neck swelled out and spread his sphincter to form a tight seal.
"Calm, please," his host repeated. "We are installing necessary waste, reproduction, and obedience controls. Struggling will make this process uncomfortable."
"Uncomfortable?!? You just shoved a plug up my ass! How much more 'uncomfortable' can it get?" He was practically frozen, afraid to even so much as twitch lest he make the dull ache in his rear worse.
"Our research has determined that the majority humans enjoy anal stimulation once they get used to it," the alien lizard stated. "Most of your discomfort originates from protective instincts and social taboos."
Morgan hunched down even further, his head resting against the plastic-glass case of the pod for a moment and his hands clasping his knees, allowing the liquid to climb further up his arms and back while he struggled to maintain his composure. "This is not what I thought you meant when you… ngh!"
Much like his rear earlier, he found himself encountering one of the robotic cables of the machine… this time visible above the purple solution due to having extended down from above instead of up from below, and this time forcing a mask over his face. His hands came back up, but by then the device was securely in place, forcing a broad tube between his lips that inflated to a ball shape to secure itself behind his teeth. The purple fluid in the pod started to rise again, quickly covering his shoulders while its strange upwards-soaking property made it creep over his head. Morgan held his breath at first, though after a minute he had to give in to his instinct to breathe and was relieved to find that the tubing in his lips was connected to some sort of breathable atmosphere.
The suction device that had grabbed his crotch had, with the help of the plug's pressure to his prostate, brought him to a full involuntary erection… and the started to push a thin cable with a ball-shaped cap into the slitted opening on the tip of his cock. While he quivered and tugged at the mask it sunk deeper into his urethra, farther than he thought was even possible; Morgan, obviously, didn't exactly have experience with sounding, so when he could feel the tube rubbing all the way through the inside of his cock he thought he was done… only to feel it continue on deeper into his body, stopping just outside his bladder.
There was a moment's pause that allowed him to pant and wheeze into the mask, the human finally giving up removing it and just putting his hands on the floor instead; he was in over his head in a literal sense as well, now, and aware that he needed it to breathe inside the vat of sticky liquid.
The process wasn't yet complete, however. The cable in his urethra vibrated and flexed faintly, causing him to wince from the intense pleasure and pain of the strange internal stimulation to such a sensitive part of his body. It was only a side effect of the machine's next operation: a thicker tube that was sheathed around the cable to use it as a guidewire of sorts. This, once it began squeezing its way into Morgan's opening and stretching his urethra around it, felt far, far thicker and slightly stiffer as well, the fit so tight that it caused a burning sensation inside his cock… one that gradually covered more and more area as it sunk deeper and deeper inside his flesh.
The human felt his body tense involuntarily from the pain, gasping into the breathing apparatus and and trying to speak, though between the sphere shaped nozzle keeping his jaw from moving properly and the many layers of suit, liquid, and glass between him and the reptilian operating the machine, not much reached the outside air other than a few muffled desperate mumbles. There was nothing he could do to stop or slow the process while the thick tube squeezed its way through his urethra, each millimeter of that canal being stretched to accommodate the girth of the catheter bit by bit, with later parts of the tube continuing to rub along the parts left behind. The device paused momentarily when it finally reached the entrance to his bladder, letting the guideline push forwards through the tube to open the way to his bladder, before the tube itself made the final centimeter-long push forwards. Morgan was shaking from the pain by then, grateful to have the motion stop at least even if he could still feel the stretching sensation of the tube's width burning inside him. As a last phase the opening for the tube spread out to form a funnel shape inside his bladder and keep itself in place, while the cable ran back through the tube the other way to be extracted.
"Very good!" he could hear the muffled words only faintly… and by then he wasn't exactly paying close attention, either. "Your suit has nearly finished forming. We will be sanitizing your bladder, and then you will be delivered to shipping shortly."
Morgan fluttered his eyes open briefly behind the mask, though all he could see was faintly-illuminated purple. "Did he just say…" he thought to himself, certain he'd misheard the alien.
When he felt the sudden tug along his urethra, some sort of heavy liquid making it expand slightly, he realized that he had heard correctly after all, much to his chagrin. Struggling and squirming at the hips on instinct, a good quarter-liter of something flooded him; judging by the feeling it was heavier than water, and warm enough that it made his stretched-to-sensitive urethra sting slightly from the heat transferring across the tubing. Morgan quickly started to feel the less-unusual sensation of his bladder being full, albeit as the result of very unusual circumstances. The tubing pushed a few hundred more milliliters into his bladder before shutting off, holding him at that pressure while the muscles surrounding that pouch of fluid clenched and squeezed at it in response to its slightly-too-full state. He made a few attempts at communication with the alien outside, tapping the glass with one hand while the other palmed his crotch in a typical 'trying to hold it' response, though before he was even sure the reptile was still outside he felt another lurch in the tubing, as the valves released and allowed his bladder to void itself directly into the catheter.
The robotic snake-arm attached to his face disconnected, taking the tube and nozzle out of mouth with it. Gradually the purple liquid in the chamber started to drain, the level reaching his head after several seconds, and finally he could see outside the tank again, albeit through the lenses of the visor to his suit. The visibility brought something else to his attention as well, however; at some point while he was focused entirely on what the machine was doing to his genitals, the solid portion of the suit covering him had extruded itself around the mask, forming what appeared to be a short, feline muzzle. Reaching up, Morgan found that he could 'feel' his hands touch the rubbery surface, some sort of electrical impulse on the interior surface of the suit causing his real nose to experience the stimulation.
Careful to not move too suddenly while he stood up, the human looked over himself. The suit was barely more than a millimeter thick, and since it had of course shaped itself exactly to most of his body he couldn't help but feel as though he was still naked, to a certain extent. Notable differences, however, were found at his front and back: At some point his cock had been compressed and tucked down inside the suit, making his groin area look as smooth as if he had no gender at all... and behind him, the top of his rump seemed to have developed a long, untapered tail to match his catlike face, formed out of the same material as the rest of his suit. He made a half turn at the waist to give it a grab, instantly regretting that action. The tail flexed and pulled away as though it was alive, and that motion reflected itself as an immediate tug on the thick plug inside his rear in the opposite direction; it seemed the two were anchored to one another.
"Ah, very good!" the alien repeated from outside the pod, waving to the captive human.. "You make excellent Earth-cat!" he declared. "An Earth creature collector will be very happy to get you!"
Morgan frowned, the action mirroring itself on the 'lips' of his mask's muzzle, and narrowed his eyes at the alien, arms crossing in a mix between trying to look angry and trying to cover himself. "What in the hell did that machine-"
"You are ready for shipping," the lizard alien told him, turning his attention back to his control console. "Your suit will now administer a sedative enema to spare you the boredom of waiting in your capsule for a few Earth-months on the cargo craft."
"Okay, wait… hold up," Morgan panted, trying to regain his bearings after the disorienting ordeal. "I changed my mind! I don't want-Ah! Hnh!" He didn't get to finish the sentence before he was thrown off by the sensation of the plug expanding its already-tight fit in the muscled ring of his sphincter, the urge to squat overwhelming him as his body reacted to the sudden flood of liquid filling his colon. He dropped to his knees again, left arm pressing against his stomach while his right hand desperately grabbed at the base of the suits's tail. He tried to tug at it, to pull the plug out from his rear, but with the tight suit resisting every millimeter of progress he made he didn't get far... especially with his own body fighting the motion by clamping down hard on the plug. At best, he succeeded mostly in making his hole stretch a bit more.
"Sorry, contract already signed; no mind-changing allowed!" He heard the alien say, his arms and legs starting to feel weak and the edges of his vision clouding; the drug entered his bloodstream fast given it could be absorbed directly by his colon. "Have a safe journey!"