Epilogue
The time had passed so quickly that Taylor barely thought about it anymore. Two years since the Carers had arrived.
“What was it I said?” He asked himself, searching his memory. Somehow it was difficult to remember anything from before the Carers came.
“Oh yeah… you’ll never catch me on one of those space ships.” He giggled to himself, and Carer Angela squeezed his hand tighter.
Together the two were standing on the landing pad, a Carer vessel in front of them, its landing ramp reminding him of the day they had first arrived, when they had first come to Earth… and everything had changed.
Changed for the better, part of his mind reminded him.
The Carers had helped humanity become a better version of itself - what it always could have been if not held back by petty squabbles and limitations.
He smiled at Angela. She had done the same for him.
Staring back down at him, there was a hunger in her eyes… and her smile spoke volumes. He had seen that hunger in her eyes before, but… never quite so fervent.
She must have just been excited to finally be going home, he mused. The translation efforts had been completed - admittedly mostly by the Carers, though he had long since stopped worrying about that. Hell, it was a rare day when Angela would let him out of her lap. She seemed to enjoy nothing more than tantalising his body.
Indeed, his body was so sensitive now, no doubt due to her constant attention. He had long since shed his human clothes for a down-sized version of the robes the Carers wore. They were silky smooth, and felt like a dream to wear… and just happened to keep him constantly at least mildly aroused. That was hardly a problem now he had met Angela, though, with her ravenous sexual appetite.
“Have your boarding documents ready!” Said a massive titted Carer, waving gently to those who passed, slowly filing aboard. “Ensure your partner is with you at all times. Humans need to have a Carer with them or they will be assigned one for the duration of the journey!”
Smiling, unable to contain his joy, looking forward to a life together, he reached up for Angela - who lifted him off his feet into a mind-melting kiss.
When he was finally set down, it took him a few moments to collect himself. Just long enough that by the time a figure in the crowd got his attention, they were about to board.
“TAYLOR!”
It was one of the last people who had been working on the translation project. Why was he here?
Taylor made to go over to him, but Angela kept a firm grip on his hand. Her smile remained, but that hunger in her eyes seemed… cold.
“TAYLOR! DON’T GET ON THAT SHIP!”
Baffled, he tried to tug at Mommy’s hand, but she wouldn’t let him go. Confused, he looked back to the crowd, where two Carers in uniforms were dragging the guy away.
“THE BOOK! TO CARE FOR MAN! IT’S A - IT’S A CHILDCARE BOOK! TO CARE FOR MAN! THEIR MILK MAKES US WEAK! THEY WANT US TO BE THEIR CHILDREN!”
Layer after layer of mental conditioning, like a million strands of wool each wrapped and interwoven, was sliced clean through. Every shackle, every barrier, a million myriad mental artifices, was shattered in a single moment.
He merely stood there, stock still, as the world around him came crumbling in on top of him. It all made sense. Everything, every step of the way, everything they had said and done now all fit into place, like a puzzle solving itself. From their arrival, to the way they took over his department, took over everything, made humanity so happy…
All they asked in return was our trust… and our love. They wanted our love. Not for us to love them, but to have our love, to own it. To control it. To use it to control us.
The world seemed to grow dark, as though a shadow had suddenly cast itself across him. Only too late did he realise that it actually had.
“NO!” He screamed, as Angela lifted him easily into the air, robbing him of any purchase, or any chance to escape. Desperately he squirmed and flailed in her grip, but he was so weak now… it was her milk. He had been drinking her milk for a year. He couldn’t imagine going a day without it. It left him as weak as a kitten in the arms of his maternal giantess.
His Mommy.
Horrified, he screamed, a wordless soulful scream of defiance… yet it was as plaintive as it was futile.
She turned him to face her, and gave him a pitying smile.
“Someone’s a little nervous, hmmm? Is it all a bit too much for my good boy?”
He wrenched at her grip, but her hands were like steel wrapped in silk.
“Don’t worry, we carers know a great way to calm down our young when they’re too excited…”
With one hand, she began to pull her robe open, revealing the gaping cavern that was her cleavage. Something which had been so beautiful to his eyes for so long, he now saw her body for the danger that it held. She turned him round, and he tried to scream at the crowds to run, to fight, to help him, to do anything but stand there placidly cheering - maybe they couldn’t hear him over their own self congradulatory applause, cheering their own march to the death of their agency as a species.
Then he realised that everyone in the crowd had a Carer by their side. Carers in uniform ringed the entire affair, and more Carers were guiding people aboard. Carers filmed the event, distributed it, reported on it… they did everything now. The humans in the crowd were vacant. Their eyes were hardly focused, and their mouths curled into simple grins.
The Carers had won, and humanity hadn’t lifted a finger to stop them. It was far beyond too late; the war had been lost long ago without them even realising it had started.
Slowly but surely she pressed his legs, then his waist, down into the ocean of her tits. He let go of her hand, desperately trying to keep himself out, but with just a gentle pressure on his shoulders she forced him deeper and deeper within her clothing, as the fleshy masses of her breasts clung tightly to him like the prises of a trap unwilling to release their captive.
Sinking up to his neck, he pleaded with her, wordlessly, but she simply smiled, ignoring his pleas, hushing him like a fussy child as she ascended into the vessel. He couldn’t find the strength to fight against the overwhelming walls of skin which enveloped him, and as her robe was lifted up to cover his face, he was all but hidden from the world.
Pathetically, his hands pushed at the satiny silks, yet the material just clung to his face like a teasing prison guard, mocking his feeble attempts. He felt Angela’s presence in his mind like he had never felt it before. What had once been a gentle hand subtly guiding his thoughts now struck with the force of a battering ram, scattering his rational mind and filling the space it left behind with whispers telling him to be quiet and obey her. Like a drowning man he struggled agains the current of her thoughts, as he felt himself swept away beneath them. Any mental defences he once had crumbled effortlessly against the tide, long ago eroded by her milk and the slow but methodical dominance of his will.
As he fought for every inch of room he could, he felt a pressure at his front… a delicate stroking. Furiously, he struggled, trying to dislodge himself, but Angela’s insistent stroking of his cock through her dress continued. She was walking, taking him aboard the vessel, he had to fight! Yet it was so hard to even think straight when she was stroking his cock, let alone coordinate his body.
He caught himself accidentally bucking his hips into her hand, earning him a muffled “Good boy!”
With the mightiest of efforts, roaring with the strain, he forced his head up far enough to tug the neck of her dress down. As he did so, he was just in time to see the boarding ramp closing behind them.
Taylor screamed, but nobody cared to hear it. He would never see Earth again.
***
That was the last time he saw the sun, or any light that wasn’t the hazy, calm, artificial pink light of the Carer ship’s interior. It was never too bright, always dimming when he needed to rest.
It was about 12 noon back on Earth, or so she said. The sun would have been out. Bright. Harsh… but satisfying. Nothing was satisfying anymore. Taylor was decidedly unsatisfied… in every way that mattered.
He tried to keep still. The more he moved, the worse it got. His stomach groaned with need, and his cock throbbed and ached with a need which was if anything stronger, but he knew touching it would only make it worse. Every tiny movement now was enough to send his nerves tingling. The bedding, the sheets, even the scant clothing he was given was all made from that same material the Carers wore.
Taylor’s body was now so sensitive that even the gentle eddies and ebbs of the air currents would have been like a lover’s hand tenderly stroking across the fine hairs of his skin. Indeed he was certain that the Carers had some way to control the air currents. He swore he could feel what felt like someone’s breath against his neck at times, or… more sensitive spots. His bed was far worse, though, as the delicate silks were an inescapable torrent of sensation.
It took every ounce of mental fortitude he had just to lie still, and yet, even the tiniest involuntary movements were enough to keep him tingling.
Taylor had figured it out eventually, and it had felt like ice in his stomach. It was their milk, her milk. It made people weak, sensitive, small, incapable of resisting them. It didn’t just weaken the body, it weakened the mind. He was once again refusing to drink her milk, yet as he had discovered the first time he had tried to go on a hunger strike, it was extremely addictive.
Seconds ticked by into minutes, or rather, so he thought. He had no frame of reference. Even if his room - or his cell as he tried to tell himself - had had a window, there would have been nothing to see but empty space. There was no way to know how long it had been. Angela could have been lying about the time, the date… how long it had been since they had left Earth… how long it had been since she last breastfed him.
He knew her milk was making him weaker, not just making his mind easier for her to control, but also making him physically wither away. Well, his muscles were gone, at least. His body felt softer in addition to being more sensitive, fattening out a little, as if her milk were moulding him into…
Taylor shook his head a little, not wanting to contemplate it. He had once been quite proud of his body, but now felt like he looked scarcely larger or more muscular than a first year college student… or older, in fact. Taylor was sure he looked younger now too.
The thought of her milk brought the taste back to his mind, and his cock throbbed mightily in an involuntary twitch - which only served to exacerbate his problem, as now his whole body reeled from the electric sensation of the near-frictionless material gliding up the underside of his cock. He whined softly, unable to hold it back as he knew he was losing the fight to stay still. Once he started humping the sheets Taylor knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
Tears crept into the corners of his eyes, but even he wasn’t sure if it was self pity at his hopeless situation, or simple exhaustion… and thirst. His stomach groaned even louder.
The door slid open with a silent hiss. Taylor grit his teeth. She was back to torment him once again. To tantalise him. Tempt him.
As she sauntered into the room and stood before his bed, her silken robe barely covered her immense, sexual form. He whimpered pitifully at the sight of her… but had to stay strong.
“Now, now, Taylor… you’re getting to be skin and bones.” She observed, her eyes trailing across the outline of his body through the thin silk sheets, but pausing on his throbbing cock as she licked her lips. “Won’t you stop being foolish and accept the nourishment I give you? After all… it’s obvious how much you love drinking my milk…”
She slowly trailed her fingers along her robe’s lining, across the swell of her massive tits, gently loosening the garment as she did so. With aching slowness, she parted it and let it fall open, exposing her luscious body fully to his eyes.
Carer Angela’s cheshire grin grew. She loved how easily she could manipulate him with just her body.
“Poor thing, if you don’t drink my milk, you’ll waste away… don’t you remember how happy you were the first time you tasted it?”
Memories of the two of them passionately embracing on the sofa in his office, not so long ago, seared through his mind and made his cock throb yet again.
“Don’t you remember…” she said, softer, as she slowly walked closer, “how it made your cock feel so wonderful when I touched it?”
He vividly remembered just how incredible fucking her hand had felt, and couldn’t stop his hips from gently rocking, allowing the silky alien sheets to ripple gently across the spot right below the head of his cock.
“Don’t you remember… how good it TASTES?” She asked in a hiss, sliding onto the bed beside him and bringing her breasts directly into his face.
A croaked sob escaped his throat as he tried not to stare, but her massive breasts literally filled his vision.
“Where are you, Taylor?” She cooed softly, and began to run her hand up and down his leg, tracing the material against his overly-sensitive skin. “Are you on Earth… or aboard our ship?”
Wincing his eyes closed, trying to block out her voice in his mind, he shook his head again.
“Does it matter? Where you really are… is with Mommy. You’re with me. Where you belong.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and, with some effort, forced his hands to his ears - but he knew it would do no good. She was speaking directly to his mind, and there was no way to shut her out.
“You belong with Mommy. You should listen to Mommy. You should… obey Mommy.”
As her hand began to gently trace and tickle at his inner thigh, his hips were rolling in an unstoppable sexual frisson, now chasing the ever-near orgasm which overshadowed his every waking moment.
“Where you are doesn’t matter. You’re swaddled in pink silk, smothered and too blissed out to think. But that’s okay… Mommy will do all the thinking for you from now on.”
He rolled his head from side to side, but all that did was drag the sheets across his chest, sending sparks from his aching nipples.
“You’re where you belong… and like us, you will be in your rightful place… eventually.”
As she brought her breast closer to his face he could smell her milk now, and his body heaved as he inhaled it greedily, desperate for that taste. Gently, it drip-drip-dripped against his lips, and her nipple prodded his palette insistently.
“Just drink, drink and all your worries will go away, like you know they always do when you’re with Mommy.”
Her voice gushed gleefully, drunk on the power she had over him.
“Such a good boy… don’t you want to drink? Mommy will make you feel all better…” She cooed into his mind, as her hand delicately pressed against the underside of his cock, giving him more friction to mindlessly thrust into.
“That’s it, just give in, baby. Give in to Mommy. Give in and drink her milk, you know you want to.”
When he rolled his head to the side, if only to take a breath that wouldn’t involve her milk leaking in - or more likely, her shoving her nipple into his mouth at any chance she had - she merely giggled.
“Now, now, no need to be a fussy baby…” She tickled a finger under his chin mockingly, and he coughed with exertion, trying not to laugh and give her all the excuse she needed.
She clamped her fingers around his cock and shucked the now precum-slickened material against his cock a few times, and he felt his heart skip a few beats at the sheer overwhelming pleasure it sent through him.
“See? There’s no point fighting it. You’re going to give in sooner or later. They all do… in the end.” He could hear her devilish grin without having to see it, but knew she was right. He was fighting a losing battle… no, it was a battle they had lost a long time ago.
His body was wracked with pleasure and anguish as, sobbing openly, he latched on to her nipple. Taylor hated himself for giving in so easily… but that thought fled from him as her milk instantly coursed through his body and took away every ache and pain, and erased his stress in moments.
“That’s it, THAT’S IT! Such a good boy for Mommy!” She gloated, relishing in her conquest.
Angela sunk her nipple firmly between his lips to ensure he couldn’t change his mind even if he had wanted to. Gouts of milk instantly poured down his thirsty throat as she pumped him full of her addictive milk, washing away what was left of him a little bit at a time.
“Such a good boy. When we get to the homeworld, you and I are going to have such a wonderful life together. We’re going to do this all day, everyday… you’ll never, ever be thirsty again. You’re going to drink every drop of Mommy’s milk… and that of all of her friends when they come to visit. They’re all going to want to get to know you…”
She wrapped her fingers around his cock through the sheet in a circle, forming a perfect valley for him to thrust into.
“They’re all going to want to get to know my good boy’s body, too…” She whispered into his mind.
Eagerly, she urged him to buck his hips by squeezing his cock through the sheet.
“That’s it,” she encouraged, “hump for Mommy. Hump away all your little thoughts, and Mommy will replace them with her love. Eventually you’ll forget everything.”
Her words echoed in his mind with finality, a declaration of victory, and she a conquering amazon.
“Soon you’ll want nothing but to fuck Mommy, and drink her milk.”
As his mind reeled under the pleasurable assault, she peeled the sheets from his body and - much to his displeasure - let go of his cock.
“Awww, don’t worry, Mommy’s here… Mommy will always take care of her good boy.”
She lifted him into her lap, ensuring her nipple was firmly between his lips all the while, not allowing him even a moment’s respite from the endless flood of her thick cream.
“That’s it, just drink…”
She grinned down at him, eyes glowing with unbridled love, and circled her finger and thumb around his cock again.
With what strength remained in his body, as those were the only muscles he had that got any kind of workout anymore, he thrusted eagerly into her slick fingers as they merrily milked his manhood.
She wrung her fingers up and down his cock, matching every thrust he made and stroking his full length from base to tip, and ensuring to squeeze her fingers closed atop his head every time he pulled back, so that when he thrusted back into her grip they could glide lovingly across his tip.
“Fuck mommy’s hand, that’s it. Squirt out all your big boy thoughts and let me replace them…”
Slowly he lost track of what he had been thinking about, as everything was being drowned under a rising tide of Mommy’s sweet cream. It tasted so good, and made him feel so incredible. He could swear with every thirsty gulp he could feel his body getting just that little bit more sensitive, a little smaller… a little weaker.
All he wanted was to cum. Nothing mattered but the orgasm which she dangled over his head like a toy always just out of reach.
“That’s it, such a good boy, show Mommy how you want to fuck her…”
His heart swelled at the thought of getting to fuck her again, and no matter how shameful it felt, he thrusted harder, eager to earn his petty reward.
“Oh my, such an eager boy… I bet you really want to cum… it must feel so nice to drink my milk again after so long…”
She leaned in close, forcing her nipple further down his throat and temporarily making it difficult for him to breathe. Her colossal breast was so massive that he could barely reach around it, and trying to paw at her soft flesh to breathe was a hopeless cause.
“You tried so hard to fight me… but you failed. You’ll never escape. Never ever get away from Mommy now… I’ll feed you my milk until you’re just a happy, horny boy who wants nothing more than to fuck his Mommy and cum his silly little brains out.”
She sped up her stroking now, sending flecks of pre-cum spraying across her massive globes as she did so.
“You held out for so long, but it’s hopeless. You’ll always give in, in the end. So why fight? Why resist when it feels this good? Don’t you want to be a good boy? Don’t you love how good it feels to be Mommy’s good boy?”
She slowed her fingers now, settling into a glacial pace, and moved her hand in time with his thrusts to frustrate any attempt he made to get more sensation.
“Only good boys get to cum… and only good boys get to drink Mommy’s milk… so you should always be Mommy’s good boy. You don’t need to think. You just need to do what Mommy says… and listen to mommy.”
Instantly, her fingers returned to milking his desperately needy cock at a merciless pace as she forced him towards orgasm relentlessly.
“Just listen to Mommy…” She cooed into his head, “Listen to Mommy.”
Her mantra continued as his orgasm closed in.
“Listen to Mommy…” She whispered in his mind, and he shook his head, but she simply clutched him closer to her breast to keep his head still.
“Listen… to Mommy.”
Her fingers were a blur, stroking his cock so fast he couldn’t keep track of where they were.
“Listen to Mommy.” She forced the thought in just as her nipple pressed deeper into his mouth.
“Obey Mommy.”
He sobbed, feeling the last vestiges of his resistance crumbling away as her fingers burned through his now fledgling stamina.
“Obey Mommy… and CUM.”
Her command flooded through him and whited out his vision, and he felt his body betraying him as, thrusting desperately between her fingers, his orgasm tore through his conscious mind and left it in tatters. Panting, shivering, he clutched to her massive breast as her slow milking grip forced every last drop from his cock.
***
“Come to Mommy, Taylor.”
Glassy eyed and grinning fatuously, he clung to his Mommy’s thigh, where he was lazily grinding his now ever-needy cock against her soft flesh in a sign of supplication.
Every part of him had grown frail, weak, and indeed were it not for the constant endless fuck sessions Mommy subjected him to he doubted any of his muscles would have been sustained at all.
It was hard to tell, now his body barely measured four feet six, at least as close as he could judge based on very hazy memories of who he had once been.
The only part of him that hadn’t shrunk was his cock, and indeed, he was beginning to think it had only grown bigger. His balls, too, hung pendulously. They were absurdly swollen, closer in resemblance to two tennis balls in a smooth, hairless pouch, and so delicate and sensitive that all Angela had to do was palpate them with a feather light touch to reduce him to a whimpering needy mess.
Most of his body hair was gone. His skin was pale, tinged a light pink. Every inch of his body was now more sensitive than his cock had once been a lifetime ago.
It didn’t matter who he had once been, he reminded himself. He was Mommy’s good boy.
“No… please…” he breathed, but his resistance had long since faded, the facade having become little more than a game to her.
“Awww… doesn’t Mommy’s good boy want to fuck her hot, wet pussy?”
He choked back a barely stifled groan as, looking up from her thigh, she lifted her other leg to reveal the wet, meaty lips which had become the pitfall of his very self determination. No matter what he did, he just couldn’t resist her. It just felt… too good.
Still, he bit his lip, grinding his desperate cock against her thigh in a fruitless effort to achieve orgasm. Taylor had long since learned he couldn’t cum without her help anymore. Only she could provide the heights of pleasure he needed to achieve orgasm now, his body having been so conditioned to her whims.
“Such a horny boy… Mommy loves watching you hump and thrust like that, but… Mommy wants you to fuck her instead.”
Wordlessly, she lifted him free of the pool of precum he was leaking onto her thigh, and laid him atop her waist. Shivering, he
“Remember, good boys do as they’re told… and…?”
“O-only g-good boys…” he mumbled, the words coming unbidden through sheer rote drilling into his mind, day after day, “get to c-c-c…”
“CUM.” She echoed the word in his mind, and he felt a jet of precum squirt from his hyper-aroused cock.
Taylor could hold out no more. Collapsing atop her, he pressed his cock within her to the hilt, drooling and sobbing at the sheer cathartic satisfaction it provided.
He needed no encouragement, but she was still more than happy to provide it.
“My cute little boy… fucking his Mommy so well… you make Mommy so happy.”
His cock ached for attention now at all times, and nothing gave him greater joy than to fuck her for hours on end, pumping load after load of cum into her alien depths. No matter how he tried, he just couldn’t fight it. It was always just a matter of time before she tempted him back into her arms.
“Such a good boy. Just listen to your Mommies… and obey.”
As she spoke those words into his mind, the door opened once more. Several Carers entered, all smiling, as they licked their lips or bit their fingers in arousal at the display in front of them. They formed a ring around Angela, looking on greedily and jealously as they saw the sheer frantic desperation in his thrusts, each eager to take their turns.
“I know my baby boy will do his best for all of Mommy’s friends today.”
The Carers around them began to remove their silks, pouring oil over their own and each others’ inhumantly voluptuous bodies.
Taylor’s eyes filled with fear as he saw the number of Carers now waiting to ravenously exploit his weakened body. Just as he was about to plead for mercy, Angela gently tickled the underside of his now massively swollen and sensitive testicles, stoking his already inhuman libido, as she flooded his brain with images of his cock sliding in and out of countless Carers’ thick, wet and meaty sexes.
“Mommy needs you to be a good boy… after all, so many of her friends don’t have a little one of their own yet. You do want to be a good boy for Mommy, now, don’t you?”
She licked her lips, and bit them in utter delight.
She cooed softly, and tickled the tip of his nose as he eagerly humped away his mind, squirting a little bit of himself into her extraterrestrial cunt with each mindlessly horny thrust.
“After all, Mommy knows best.”
***
With that, the final step of man was that of a step down, from man to boy in the arms of their new Carers.
They were now the unchallenged rulers of Earth. The rulers of mankind. Their Carers had become their Owners, and they were little more than beloved pets, or doted upon children.
We leave Taylor, and mankind, slaves in the hands of a far superior race.