The ground shook under the weight of a breaking sky. The dawning red light of hollidays distant sun reflected off dark grey metal and layers of bronze. The sounds of engine fire was akin to a raging god plunging his fist toward the earth! The smell of burnt ozone filled the air, mixing and overcoming with the natural sulfur tang of the world. A thousand vessels dived as angels from the atmosphere, each of them bulk landers with fiery escort craft leading the way. They broke the sound barrier as they tore through the atmosphere, creating ripples of air currents that would be felt for hundreds of kilometers.

They were but the first wave, far above them a battle was still raging. The worst of the conflict was centered around the orbital platform and its space elevator. From the ground a series of anti orbital guns unleashed their fury. The crew didn't realize it, but they were already doomed.

Far away from the distant echoes of chaos, nestled alongside the great iron curtain of Morning, stood the great bastion of the Northern Defense Fortress. It was the center of military control, newly constructed and built to withstand nuclear winters. How and why Sutherland contractors desired to construct such a monstrosity was beyond General Winters who was studying the series of monitors in the command center.

General Winters stood six foot three inches tall, sported a thick mustache, and wore his bitter grey uniform and overcoat. It was freezing in the bastion, it was always freezing. His coat sported a dozen ribbons from the Great War, but few that had been won since. His frost white hair often betrayed his otherwise healthy complexion, and his iron jawed face reflected his stern demeanor.

He wasn't the commander of the bastion, nor was he among the higher echelon of commanders, but he did fashion himself as a great general. There were many types of generals of course, a topic he often reflected upon in his private moments. There were the charismatic over confident types that preferred to lead in person, and often had an air of invincibility around them. You could pin point them out instantly, they were the kind of person that could walk in the middle of a firefight and somehow emerge unscathed as if bullets were deflected from them. You also had the calm and collective types that remained cool under fire, and were tactically brilliant. You had those that had combat doctrines and routines so installed into them they always appeared distant even among their closest confidants. Winters wasn't any of those kinds of leaders, he was a far simpler and less flamboyant breed. His greatest trait was that he simply refused to panic. Even when the situation was panic inducing, he was always one to construct some form of order from the chaos.

Even now as he watched the endless stream of reports he kept his calm. Several junior officers were frozen in horror as requests for reinforcement were met on deaf ears. Only a few were still relaying commands to the supreme council.

This was his sphere of influence, his station, and he remained stern as new reports finally arrived from the fleet. He read the words after decryption, ground forces had penetrated the orbital platform and were taking ground. The garrison and martial forces were losing badly. Meanwhile naval forces were now being commanded by a captain spears in charge of the 'Crimson Blade'. If his memory served that was a frigate, what circumstances must have happened for a frigate to be in command...

General Winters was relayed the most critical reports up the chain of command, and forwarded a dozen requisitions to the Kai's military office itself. He then walked away from the monitors and struggling juniors to focus on what he truly excelled at. The logistics of war. He was the regimental Quartermaster and regional directory, filling both roles at the same time with ease.

It was difficult to truly understand the magnitude of resources needed for an army to function. For instance the forces currently stationed on Holliday, be they Sutherland regulars or Racheon mercenary, required nearly 100 tons of food a day. It was also recommended that each solder required three firearms, each armory in every district required this quota to be filled with an additional 30% for emergencies. He also had to ensure the military forces had adequate ammunition, artillery, vehicles, body bags, and minor essentials such as tooth paste and soap. Everything from the combat armor they wore, to the socks they slept in he was responsible for. And he enjoyed it. What many officers considered trivial, he considered an art.

Currently he was already relishing his newest challenge as new orders were disseminated. In response to the overwhelming forces making their ground assault, and unknown time before any reinforcement from out of system, the Kai in all his wisdom gave the one order many hoped he wouldn't. He reconsecrated the city militia.

Back when Holliday was a Tyrian colony, it prided itself with its peoples militiamen. An army made up of hundreds of thousands of regular citizenry ready to stand firm against any threat, lucky for them they never encountered it. Once Holliday was surrendered to Sutherlands rising empire following the armistice, its citizen militia was ordered to disband and disarm. It risked a new war enforcing such orders. To keep the peace a position was retained on the general council to represent the old army, albeit with limited power. The takedown of civilian weaponry however lead to some of the worst battles and post war engagements. Even to this day large sections of the populace resented, or hated, the Sutherland rulers for their brute force in disarming the citizens.

Every year following the days of compliance, petitioners requested for the reconstitution of rights to bearing arms. Every year the Kai turned it down with a force of Sutherland Dragoons in front of him ready to respond should that be necessary.

Any other day reading this order as it was presented would have been considered outrageous, even treasonous. Even still Winters had a poor taste in his mouth just thinking of the order. The standing militia had been called to service, thousands of men who privately disdained the standing government and relished the opportunity to rise up if given the opportunity. Still though he shook those thoughts in the back of his mind, that was a war for a later day. His mind immediately went to logistics, the first question was how they could be armed in the first place. Even if he requisitioned for all reserve armaments that wouldn't be enough to equip this new standing force. He would have to get creative, meanwhile there was questions of food supplies and leadership instillation. The militia hadn't been organized for years, it would need to a new officer corps and support auxilia.

General Winters leaned against the table and studied the charts of the city and corresponding staging grounds. Any other general would be focusing purely on what was currently happening outside the city, outside the protection of the curtain wall and shield generator. But he was focused on his tasks and his tasks alone. Even as the bastion shook underneath him and alarms continued to sound.

A Junior officer approached him, gave a quick salute, and handed him another pamphlet of decrypted messages. Winters read each line while keeping his composure.

"The Port has fallen..." he knew it was a matter of time, but still it was a blow, "Forward this to central immediately, keep me appraised of all battalion units on the ground."

"What should we tell them? the posts around the basin are waiting for orders..." the Junior was a native Holliday soldier. He might have even been in the militia back in the older days, but now his loyalties were firmly rooted in the glory of the empire. He was among the only Junior's that kept his cool.

"Send them the following until supreme command weighs in," he knew under the circumstances he could only give simple and direct orders. He knew the battalions guarding the port facilities on the ground were about to receive heavy contact as the enemy above would deploy forces from the elevator itself. "Not one step back, deny them."

The junior saluted and sent the commands to the forward positions, Winters hoped better orders would be sent soon.

Meanwhile

I want to be a whore...

The thought only firmly rooted itself the moment she sat alone in the dark room. She never in her life conceived of such a notion, even during the mind numbing orgy she barely remembered. Only a few days ago, as she worked half naked in the mines, the idea of sex made her nervous at best. She had never looked at a man with feverish lustful intentions before. Now with her libido fundamentally changed it was nearly all she could think about.

She felt so empty, so hallow inside. It felt wrong to be so hallow. So very wrong...

Just the idea of a mans appendage made her horny as hell. She missed the taste of it as she entertained one blow job after another, the precum staining her tongue. She didn't realize how pleasing it was to watch a man cringe as she sucked his ball sack and played with his solid gems in her mouth. It was funny how such a vulnerable position was eagerly asked for.

She enjoyed the rush of excitement and fear of intercourse, of being filled and having things reach into places not easily touched. Every time she reached an explosive climax and squeezed her partners raw cock she could feel every vein and pulse followed by the seething warmth of his release. She was getting wet just thinking about it, so wet her pussy was practically drooling. Her desire was leaking down her legs!

Chloe bit her lip and clenched her legs, she felt she would need another shower. She couldn't keep her mind off the thought of fucking her rescuer. She felt a series of spasms in the core of her being followed by the on rush of more presexual fluids. It was like her womb was in heat and begging to receive a mans seed at the earliest convenience. Was she ovulating more frequently now? Was this obsession not going to end until conception?

She never wanted kids...

She wanted to feel a large hot iron hard dick fill up the void that was so barren inside her. To squeeze it until she could trace every vein and squirm under pulsating spasms. She wanted to feel scorching hot ejaculations shoot into her fertile and eager womb while her holes were stretched. To be used over and over until it felt like a gallon of burning lava had been poured into her stomach.

"Ruin me!" She cried out as she rubbed herself feverishly daring to fantasize more, "make me your cum dumpster!" Her stomach clenched and her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she felt currents of euphoria surge through her stomach down to her legs. One orgasm wasn't enough and she buried her head into the blanket as she pushed her fingers inside her soaking lips and rubbed her clit. Her over sensitive body spasmed again as she felt her fluids continue to spew onto the bed.

Her ass was pointed upwards, and no matter how hard she tried her fingers wouldn't provide her with the pleasure she craves.

"I need a dick, I need one!" She grabbed a pillow and rubbed against it while fondling her enlarged breasts. They were so soft her fingers sank into them. Only after several minutes did she finally feel like she could slow down. Her body was over ventilating. Only when her heart calmed to a steady rhythm was she able to collect herself.

"Damn I ruined the bed..." she had coated the sheets with her over indulgence. Her heightened sense of smell could taste the pheromones emitting from them.

Without a word she took another shower and covered herself with the only spare towel left. She laid back on the couch, not wanting to go near the site of her most recent depravity. Gods new she was loosing her mind, in the spare moments of clarity she possessed she knew her life would never be the same. There was no cure, there was no respite. Even if she finally decided to give in to her aching bodies reprogrammed obsessions and conceived a child there was no promise that she wouldn't return to this lust fueled state the day after giving birth to it.

Her life was forever going to be a fight against madness, a losing war that would cost her dearly in more ways than one. She would have to savor each sane moment, and try to make the most of it. She was practical that way, she was always practical to the best of her ability. Life on the run, and in the nook had taught her that. Even now she would hold on to that teaching as best she could...for as long as she could.

A knock came from the door. Alexander walked in looking tired, his eyes seemed strained. He took one look in the room, smirked upon seeing the bed, and sat down on a stool across from her. He lit a cigar which he kept in a pocket of his jacket and puffed it gingerly. It smelled of rich tobacco which was somehow only moderately better than the dusty cobweb smell before.

"So-" he began with that sexy foreign accent that made her feel uncomfortable.

"Just tell me your plan." She cut him off. She wanted this exchange to be as short as possible.

"First put these on, and yes that's a vibrator, this should help you feel more...comfortable as we leave." He paused a moment before elaborating, "several of the pleasure girls wear this kind of stuff, they all seem to..."

"Be like me?" She knew several women in the nook had been enslaved and given bliss on some level. It was possible they found a secret to keep their sanity somewhat intact.

She looked through the collection of garments in the satchel he laid before her. All the clothing was either silky with breathable texture, or tight fitting lace. She took the towel off not caring of hiding her modesty. Part of her wanted him to seize the moment and take her right then and there...wouldn't that be fun?

After a couple minutes she became fond of a trim laced bra and a silk blouse that was made of some kind of nylon weave that was mostly see through.

She adorned herself and found the garments were just barely large enough to cup her bust with care. Her lean stomach was exposed along with her thighs. The blouse covering only her arms, shoulders, and upper torso. Her skin was milky white in the gloom. She then squeezed a rod like object in between her breasts and attached it to a choker necklace she picked out from the collection. She turned it on and it gave a series of tiny electrical stimulations. It felt good to be touched, even if it was only through this. The undergarments had a series of vibrating instruments attached inside the lace itself to also provide some form of stimulation. Not as good as a dick, she thought to herself, but adequate. She then put on a pair of long black leggings. The fabric felt good against her skin, and the airflow gave her goosebumps. She welcomed the sensation.

She looked over at Alex who rested a hand on his chin. Chloe could tell he had a hard on, even though his jeans hid it well. It pleased her to know it, "Ok so what's next?"

"You feeling good?" he asked sarcastically.

She did, she felt really good. Her body was being stimulated enough to relieve her for now, allowing her to concentrate a little more. She gave him a grin in response.

"Ok, so how do you feel about starting our own harem?"