Queen of the Monsters Ch. 01

Hi! This is the start of what might (hopefully) be a longer series, where I take a not!Kerrigan character through a cool adventure where she learns to master her incredible mutation powers and, well, fucks a lot of intelligent monsters. Will she embrace her power or fail and become a helpless submissive breeder? Find out!

As for content, it starts in a prison with so if you're not into gaslighting or forceble confinement, heads up. There's also going to be a LOT of monsterfucking in these stories, so, yeah, if you don't like people getting railed by intelligent creatures of varying description, look away!

Everyone else, please enjoy!

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On worlds innumerable, they moved. Without fear, without fatigue, without heed, they raced forward. Each had a different form, sometimes with vast variation, representing the malleability in the genetic web that connected them all. A dog-sized quadruped with segmented jaw parts and a ravenous appetite marched in the shadow of a colossus of tusks and fangs whose charge could split a tank apart. Huge, bat-like lizards that glided on grey membranous wings shared the skies with colossal, eldritch squid creatures that reached high into the heavens, their tentacles stabbing the ground with each lumbering step.

The parade of abominations bared down on their target. But what that target was seemed subject to change. One moment it was a research facility buried deep in the rocks of a frozen planet, glacial ice cracking under their combined weight. The next it was a defensive installation in the soaking heat of a jungle, trees falling like dominoes as the horde barrelled forward. It was a bunker. It was a city. It was a tower in the desert.

Finally, it was a single human figure. Her long, glorious magenta hair swirling around her head. Her hands were claws, elegant and long and razor sharp, stretched out before her in exultation. She wore no clothes, her naked body a mix of chitinous armour and human flesh, with shimmering scales for shoulders like iridescent pauldrons. Her body was caught between a model of perfectly alien beauty and a weapon of the deadliest form. She lifted off the surface of a pool of water, propelled by unseen forces to ascend as an acrobat in flight. All eyes turned to her. The beasts swarmed, but not in attack. They circled, their many eyes gazing reverently at the floating form of...of...

***

She awoke every morning to that same dream. The forms changed, as did the locations, but everything else...the swarm of creatures, the alien woman, it was all she saw when she fell asleep. It could be a memory. It could be some abstracted fantasy. All she knew is that it was important enough for her mind to fixate on, even in her current state.

The lights flicked on. Daytime, more or less. With her mind still foggy, she reacted on instinct and rolled to her feet. She had thirty seconds to shift off the uncomfortable slab to her feet, where the platform that served as her cot would recede into the featureless grey wall, rendering it identical to the other three sides of her cubicle prison. No visible mechanism, no discernable seam, it was like the bed had never been there.

Immediately afterwards, they would arrive. Two men in spotless white coats and serious expressions would enter through a door that appeared from a part of the wall without a visible seam. They would sit down at chairs and a table that pushed up from the floor, open a briefcase filled with various inscrutable devices, and begin their interrogation. She could sit down at a chair provided, or pace, or sag against the wall and weep. In a hundred frustrating ways, they would ask the same question.

"Who are you?"

And she would respond in just as many varieties.

"I don't know."

This would go on for hours. When they left, the door would disappear again, leaving her in her prison cell for another day. The one concession to the idea that she was a living thing and not an item in a box was the air vent in the ceiling, five metres up. It pumped in diffused white light and conditioned air, but the lack of circulation still made it feel hot and stuffy, especially with two other bodies inside.

The two men wore identical outfits but couldn't be more different in appearance. One was lanky, with carefully combed dark brown hair and angular features. The other was stocky, balding, and peered down at her through wide rimmed glasses like she was a petri dish. Both smelled like two different brands of equally cheap cologne. They didn't identify themselves, so she'd taken to calling them Tall and Small in her head.

Tall paced, something he had a habit of doing, clenching and unclenching his fist like he was walking off being scolded. Small leaned over the table, splayed fingers holding his weight.

"That's not a satisfactory answer. The tests don't show that anything has happened to your brain. Your neurochemical readings are all normal, your full spectrum biotics are merely a touch over borderline. You are the same person as you were before the procedure...mostly. So it stands to reason that you are lying to us."

"We're just trying to help you," Small chimed in. He had a strange accent that she couldn't place. Not that she could place either of her accents. Or her own. "Can you describe your home? Your family?"

"I don't care if you believe me or not," she replied, trying to control a swell of anger, "I'm telling you the truth. I can't remember my name, where I come from, where any of this is."

Small jotted down something on a flat device in his palm. "What's the first thing you remember?"

They'd asked that before, too. She repeated off the answer. "I remember flashes. Some kind of corridor. A needle. And something thrashing around in a tube. Before that, nothing. After that, I'm in here." She held out her hands to indicate the room. "What about you? Do you know my name?"

The men were taken aback. It was the first time in a long while that she'd asked a question. "We...that is to say we can't give you that information," Small began before being interrupted by Tall.

"If you cooperate, this will go much faster. Now, think about it. Reach out with...whatever. Look in your mind and find that part of you that tells you who you are and listen to it."

She shook her head, but humoured him. Closing her eyes, she searched herself for the answers she sought. They'd told her to do this before, but this time felt different. The noise of the fan fell away, as did the scratch of Small's stylus on his tablet. The room opened up, and in her mind's eye she saw an infinite multitude of pinprick lights in all directions...

**MORRIGAN**

The word came out of the blue, crashing into her mind like a railgun round. She screamed, clutching her head. The pair of men crowded around her, pantomiming concern.

"Are you alright?" one of them asked, she couldn't tell which.

"I...just a headache," she said, for the moment unwilling to tell her captives anything they didn't already know. They didn't believe her. Tall pulled out a hand-held device from the briefcase, casting a blue light over her head. He stared at the other side's screen with a furrowed brow.

"Her peptides levels spiked...but they're drifting back to baseline now. Might be a residual effect of the suppressants. Up the dose?" Tall proposed, like she wasn't even there.

"Not yet. Keep her monitored. We're going to need clear readings if the antipathic is losing effectiveness." They stood, gathered their things, and left the room. The seats and table all slid back into the ground. The coast clear, she looked around for the source of the voice that had spoken to her. But of course, there was nobody else in the room.

"Great," she muttered under her breath, "Now I'm hearing voices too." Not a great indicator of mental health, but if the readings that the two men were taking were any indication, it wasn't a figment of her imagination completely. And the name sounded familiar. Whether it was some malfunctioning piece of her psyche or not, it glided in like a puzzle piece slotting perfectly into where it belonged.

Morrigan.

Her name was Morrigan.

***

Aside from her conversations with her two interrogators, her days were monochrome. Three times a day, a tiny portion of the door would open and a meal of rectangular gelatinous material would be dropped into her cell for her reluctant consumption. They looked awful and tasted worse. Part of her knew this treatment was unacceptable, but she couldn't remember the world outside of it. She spent hours pacing the cell, racking her brain for more details. She could catch fragments, wisps of other places, other people, other moments in time. And just when she'd reach for them, they'd slide through her fingers. Like snatching at smoke.

For roughly one third of the day, the light above her would turn off and she'd try to sleep. She would try to dream of her past, and inevitably return to that woman in the circle, surrounded by thousands upon thousands of disparate creatures.

**QUEEN**

The word exploded in her mind, jolting her awake and making her flop to the floor. She clutched her skull. Pain, deep and pounding, suffused her skull. Wrapped in the agony was a message beyond speech, beyond the crudities of verbal communication. She could feel the words, like they were hanging in the air in front of her and she could touch them with her hand. It hurt to think, to do anything but wait for it to subside.

**HEAR?**

The second word stabbed through her mind again. Her mind reeled at the sheer discomfort of hearing what sounded like another person's thoughts. The words were intelligible but they were cacophonous, shrill. Like a bandsaw on violin strings, it was not the way her brain was meant to be used. She pushed herself off the ground, trying to get a hold of what exactly was happening. In her efforts, she realized the last word had been an interrogative.

"Yes, yes I hear you, whatever you are," she said aloud, not knowing how else to proceed.

**QUEEN NEEDED. HIVE DISCORDANT. NEED INSTRUCTION. NEED DIRECTION**

She shook her head. Then, feeling foolish, replied. "I don't know what any of that means. I'm no queen. Who are you? Why are you able to talk like this?"

A long pause. When the voice returned, it was slower, more methodical in its speech. It hurt less too. Either her mind was getting used to it, or the voice was dialing back its efforts.

**QUEEN DAMAGED. UNFORTUNATE DEVELOPMENT. APOLOGIES. HEARD YOUR SONG, HEARD YOUR...MELODY. IS QUEEN IN PERIL?**

Morrigan thought a while about how to answer that. She hadn't been hurt, per se. But she was being kept against her will. Her attempts to escape were thwarted by the enormous men in black and white armour who stood sentry outside her cell.

"Again, not a queen. And I'm not in immediate danger, but I am being held captive. Can you help me?"

The door exploded open. A half dozen men, including Small and Tall, rushed in with a wide array of gadgets. Startled, she still threw a wild haymaker and utterly decked the taller of the familiar pair. He fell like a ton of bricks. Two burly guards in that inscrutable white armour grabbed her by the wrist, cutting short her rebellion, though she still tried to fight with some furious kicks. Another person in a labcoat, one she'd never seen before, gently tapped the side of a syringe filled with green fluid. Morrigan screamed

"We don't have long!" Small shouted, motioning to Morrigan's arm, "Tranq her while her peptide levels are above 50. We can isolate the link!"

"Or cut her open," Tall said through a clenched jaw, "Might be easier than doing this dance."

"Kill the subject? When we're this close?!"

"She was talking to them, Morris. How long do you think we have until she figures out she can..." He trailed off, realizing she was still awake. "Jesus Christ, do I have to do everything myself?!" Tall yanked the syringe free, tapped her restrained arm, and slid the needle inside. The iron grip of the guards kept her from moving around too much, and soon she felt the medicine's effects.

"You...were...watching muh..." she managed before her jaw stopped responding to commands. She felt so tired, more tired than she'd ever been. She sagged against the guards, and they laid her back on her bed. There was no telling what they would do to her afterwards, or if she'd even wake up at all. The last thing she noticed before drifting off was the sight of Tall slipping on a blue surgical glove.

***

She returned to the clearing, the place where the gorgeous woman floated in the centre of the crystal clear pool of water, surrounded by the masses of alien forms. But there was nobody there. Nobody besides her, at least. The idea that this was a dream floated by her conscious thoughts. She'd never lucid dreamed before. Maybe it had something to do with the sedatives they had her under.

"Queen."

A familiar voice. Her head whipped around to see one of the strange creatures from her dream. Best described as a featherless bird of prey, it stood on two digitigrade legs, each foot wielding claws that looked sharp enough to dig into the toughest hides. Two hands with similar sharp claws took the place of wings, their tri-digit grip reminiscent of an eagle's talon. Its shoulders were hunched, elongated snout/beak bristling with countless pointed teeth. Definitely a carnivore. She tilted her head to the side, looking for who had spoken.

"Hello? Is this your animal?"

"I am owned by no one," the bird thing said.

Morrigan topped backward. "W-what the fuck?"

"Yes," it said, jaw visibly straining to get its mouth around a human language, "I am the fuck. Karak. Karak of Deluge. I sang to you, but you were not used to music. But here, in this dreaming, you can understand?"

It took a moment to get her head around the idea of the creature before her not only intelligent but had been the one speaking to her. She recognised its strange cadence from the voice in her head when she was awake. It being non-humanoid was a twist she hadn't expected, but she supposed there were plenty of non-humanoid intelligences in the galaxy. Weren't there? The amnesiac state had left her with a general feeling for some facts and ideas but no concrete assertions.

"I can, yes. Sorry for my reaction, I'm just...something's happened to my memory. The people who hold me captive might have something to do with it. I can't remember anything."

Karak nodded. "I see. Explanation for discord, for your voice being out of tune. Strange. At first I thought 'not Queen', but it's clear, Queen." It motioned with its grasper toward her, like the answer was self-evident.

"I'm still pretty sure you have me mixed up with-" she began, then caught sight of a glint of reflection. The pool of water at her feet. She looked down...and screamed.

She had become the woman in her dream. The same flowing purple hair, the same armoured skin. The savage claws, the same glowing green eyes. Naked but far from helpless, she held up one of her fearsome clawed hands to her eye. They were not just fearsome in appearance, they were weapons. Nobody would ever contain her in this form. She was free.

"What...who am I?" she asked.

"You are Morrigan. You are Queen."

She shook her head, turning from the reflection to face the creature. "But beside that. Where did I come from? Did I have a home somewhere? A job? Friends? Family?"

Karak tilted its head. "Do not understand. Deluge beyond human friendship. Beyond human family." It reached out with one if its clawed hands, causing her to recoil. "Indeed, worse than I feared. Damage to Queen severe. I will render assistance."

Before she could ask what that meant, it had pounced on her. She screamed, though her movements were slowed, uncoordinated. Her unconscious state was affecting her even here in this dreamworld.

"G-get off of me!" she said in as commanding a tone as she could, "Unhand me, Karak! Your queen demands it."

"Queen damaged. Cannot command, not yet. Will fix." Its powerful graspers pinned her arms to her sides, while its tremendous bulk kept the rest of her body from wriggling around. It used its legs to push her knees apart, and then Morrigan saw it. From a sheath, it emerged with a lurid wet noise. Thick, almost the size of her arm. It glistened with some kind of clear fluid.

"What the...is that a...get offa me or I'll start swinging!"

It growled, the noise reverberating deep within its thorax, the vibrations rolling through its limbs til she could feel it in hers. It was so heavy. Masculine in a way that was simultaneously completely alien yet entirely recognisable. The creature pinning her had an urge that was coming to the fore, something she knew all too well from her own species.

"Queen...very attractive...you will make a good broodmother."

She turned red. "W-what?! But I doooooh!" Her words turned to a moan as it pressed its slickened cock against her own naked body. More fluid pulsed from its flared head, coating her torso in its sticky warmth.

"Ejaculate programmed to excite broodmothers, ready them for copulation. This work a projection of our minds, but as of now, I am the stronger of us. I write the rules of this. And therefore, you are aroused."

She felt the spark. Her breath caught, and everywhere the creature's precum spilled, a warm glow followed, building up to a heat in her lower body. She hadn't felt anything like it before. In the past, her sexual encounters had been amicable and enjoyable for the most part, but they'd been completely unnecessary to her overall wellbeing. The compulsion building up inside her now was a Need. A primal, atavistic desire as strong as her need to breathe or drink or eat. In moments, the moisture spread between her legs, but that wasn't the alien's doing.

She exhaled, at once rebelling against the foreign compulsion and reveling in its intoxicating promise of pleasures to come. A need to be taken overriding her previous worries, and for the moment, this monstrous creature looked like the most desirable partner in the world. It was strong. Powerful. Intelligent. The perfect source of genetic material.

It thrust its flared tip inside her. Her body yielded despite its size, her slickened slit providing ample lubrication and making it impossible to deny how much she was anticipating this. She widened her stance as far as her legs could move, opening up her body to be claimed by her alien lover.

"This is...this is just some trick..." she said, her breath hot and heavy.

"Feel free to tell yourself that," it said, pulling back for a moment, "Repeat in your own mind that this is not your doing. That you are blameless. It must have been me that turned you into the perfect receptacle for my essence. If you say it enough times, maybe you can make yourself believe it." He cut off any reply with another deep thrust forward, making her squeal and her useless little legs quiver from the impact.

"Hey!" Morrigan cried, "I thought I was your Queen!"

Karak was unmoved. "Queen varied role in Deluge. Observe."

Two figures approached from either side of the crystal pool. Morrigan turned her head to see the first was an obscene parody of femininity. She appeared as the archetypical fertility statue found in paleolithic caves. Her breasts were beyond human norms, beyond even exaggerated porn star modifications, and her belly was absurdly gravid. Iridescent milk flowed freely from her nipples down along her pale green skin. A horse sized creature with the body of a snake approached from behind, and the woman bent over, presenting herself like the lowest barnyard sow. When the broodmother lit up with ecstasy as she was penetrated by the snake monster, Morrigan realized in horror that she was staring at her own face.

"Weak Queen," Karak explained, "Useful for breeding, pleasure of hive. Very important place, but ultimately subservient to hive."