Plan H From Good Old Earth

by S.B.

Tags: #dom:female #femdom_hypnosis #humor #scifi

General Davies raised his binoculars up high just in time to see the coordinated explosions lighting up even further the afternoon sky. The cloud of grey smoke that swept through the capital provided a moment of respite from the ongoing carnage and even a glimmer of hope the like the soldiers in the front lines hadn’t experienced in ages. It was all for naught though for the dreadful iridescent energy beams of the Voltraxian ships didn’t stay silent for long, the characteristic mechanical sound before the blast travelling faster than the tired legs and arms of humans too tired to run away. At the age of seventy, the General believed he had seen everything there was to see, yet the sheer magnitude of the alien invaders weaponry proved him wrong at every turn. He sighed and wiped a lonely tear from the corner of his left eye.

“Sir,” Major Harrison announced in his usual monochord tone. “I regret to inform that Operation Fire Wall has failed.”

“I can see that, I’m not blind yet!” the General replied, driven by anger and frustration, two feelings he should do his best to keep hidden. He regretted his rudeness right away. Davies was just another good man doing his job, and they had lost far too many already. He did not deserve to see the chain of command he had put so much faith in falter before his weary eyes. “Please forgive me,” he said. “I didn’t mean...”

“No need to say anything, sir. This war drives us mad, sometimes.”

“Yes, it does. All wars do but this one is worse.”

“We cannot stop them, right?”

“Not by brute force, it seems. Their technology surpasses ours by a long shot but there may still be a way to come out victorious.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Fire Wall was always a risk which is why I asked the Pentagon to consider implementing Plan H as well and they agreed to it.”

“Plan H? But that’s...”

“... desperate, yes, yet desperate times require desperate measures. I’ve already sent for Miss Reynolds. She should be here, soon.”

“I’m already here,” Phoebe Reynolds declared, her silky tones drowning the two men’s conversation. Both the General and the Major hesitated before turning to meet her gaze.

The thirty-one-year-old red-haired and blue-eyed Hypnodomme was dressed in white from head to toe, a virginal attire that had little to do with how she made a living, turning wet dreams into mindless servitude. Perhaps that was the reason she had chosen that color, to highlight the contrast between her appearance and the libidinous storms she could unleash.

“No reason to be embarrassed, gentlemen,” she giggled. “Whatever you’re trying to hide, please remember I’ve seen and heard it all, before.”

The General was the first to greet her, both with a handshake and a vigorous salute between his legs. The fact no blue pills had been needed was impressive for his age. Harrison mimicked him, blushing like a naughty schoolboy in desperate need of discipline.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Miss Reynolds,” Davies said. He almost used her stage name but calling her Empress Hypnotica didn’t sound right given their current predicament.

“But of course! How could I say no to a chance like this? It will be an honor to serve my country and the world the best way I can.”

“Do you... do you really think you can pull this off?” Harrison inquired, torn between wanting to believe the fantasy and accepting reality.

“I don’t know but everything you were kind enough to share about the Voltraxian’s sexual nature suggests that yes, it’s possible. It would have been great to get the chance to try it on a live subject beforehand but I must make do. Now, where are we going to do this?”

“This way, please,” the General said, escorting her to the Command Center. Once a highschool gym, it had been converted by the military into a state-of-the-art facility after the aliens had destroyed the primary lines of defence during their first strike. The three ignored the horny couple making out under the bleachers for they knew all of them could be dead in the next couple of hours and if there was one last chance to go wild then...

At the far end of the gym stood a glass cubicle equipped with a 3D microphone, a mixing studio for adjustments on the fly and a row of monitors perfectly aligned displaying real-time information of the primary vessels whereabouts and the number of troops on the ground still trying to fend them off. A scrawny man with a blurred name tag and ridiculously large glasses awaited them there.

Major Harrison did the honors. “Miss Reynolds, this is Dr. Kowalski. It was his expertise that allowed us to open a channel straight into the enemy’s communication system, the one you shall use to do your... hmmm... thing.”

“A pleasure,” she said, though Kowalski’s silly smile said the pleasure was all his. Taking hold of all men she encountered was not something she actively sought but the combination of charisma and hypnotic charms had its advantages. Without that silly eyewear, the good Dr. was quite the specimen and the bigger his brains...

“I have to say that when they first informed me of this plan, I laughed my socks off,” he muttered. “but then I listened to one of your recordings and...”

Ah, that explained it! The fuzziness in his expression was of someone who had been triggered before and though the General would never admit it out loud, he too had listened to her more times than he could remember.

“I hope you enjoyed it,” she smiled, and Kowalski almost had no time to breathe. “And, for everyone’s sake, let’s hope the Voltraxians do so, too.”

“I’m sure they will,” he mumbled. “I... I already set up everything for you so when you’re ready to start...”

“I’ll never be more ready than now,” she noted, assuming her position. Had anyone told her three weeks ago that the fate of the world would ever lie in the hands—or rather, voice—of a proud sex worker, she would have laughed as everyone else. Now, she had to put on the performance of a lifetime and wait for a mesmerizing miracle. She took a deep breath, held the microphone close to her sultry lips as if she were holding a man’s hardened cock and started talking:

“Greetings, noble warriors of Voltraxia. My name is Phoebe Reynolds and I come to you imbued with the spirit of friendship and negotiation. Though you have come to our planet with hostile intentions and forced us to defend ourselves with everything we’ve got, our quarrel makes no sense so allow me to take this opportunity to extend you the welcome you deserve and share with you a wonderful gift we call erotic hypnosis. I doubt you ever heard of it but that’s okay. I can explain all you need to know if you listen to the sound of my voice...”

* * *

Twenty-thousand feet high, the Voltraxian Cruiser SRV-U was the first to pick up the anomalous transmission. The sensors aboard the ship identified the voice as belonging to a human female though her words made little sense if any. Despite having conquered thousands of solar systems, the seven and a half feet tall arachniform creatures had never encountered seduction in its purest form. The Captain confronted his senior officers with the strangest question of them all.

“What... is... mass...turbation?”

The bulbous black heads of the crew members confronted one another with the same interrogation, their eight gelatinous limbs wrapped around their hairy torsos. Science Officer Vrok-nyl licked one of his rear legs as Phoebe’s suggestions sank deeper into the core of his primitive brain. Three greasy appendages protruded from a crevice not too dissimilar from what regular Homo Sapiens dubbed as “ass”, black ooze dripping all over the bio-mechanical vessel innards.

“Vrok-nyl, what are you doing?” a telepathic signal echoed, one that was reciprocated with a furious downward motion and an unexpected moan. The Captain saw this image projected a thousand times over a thousand through the tendrils of his neural network, Phoebe’s voice prompting a response.

“So easy to stroke, so easy to sink... deeper and deeper... deeper and deeper...”

Twenty-six thousand uhns later, or five minutes in its Earth equivalent, Cruiser SRV-U spun out of control above the skies of Washington D.C. before crashing into another ship.

* * *

“Oh my God,” Dr. Kowalski looked at the monitors, jaw dropping as hard as a rock in the middle of the ocean. “We have a hit! One ship just... no, two ships! Three! Fuck, their entire armada has lost control, they’re dropping like flies!”

“Tell me about it,” General Davies sniggered, his own callous hands unable to stop themselves from indulging in forbidden pleasures. Half of the staff inside the Command Center, men and women alike, was doing the same, with the other half barely resisting the effects of the hypnotic transmission. Harrison had already come out of his uniform, dry tongue licking the floor at Phoebe’s feet.

“If there was ever a time to strike, this is it, gentlemen,” she declared as, one by one, the enemy dots on the screens before her fainted into nothingness.

At ground level, the human forces first sneered at the sight of their mighty foes jacking themselves off into oblivion and then guided them there before the weapons cooled off.

Of the two thousand and thirty-three enemy ships rampaging through the planet that day, only three escaped through a hyperspace window back to the dark pits of Voltraxia and yet it’s doubtful the survivors will ever reveal the real reasons their massive onslaught failed at the eleventh hour. Chances are they won’t return for another round soon either but if they do, Plan H from good old Earth will be waiting to make them cum to their senses again... multiple times.

((I hope you had fun with this little tale. I always do when writing. Want to have more fun with me? Support my site - https://www.sbspellbound.net - through my patreon page - https://www.patreon.com/sbspellbound - and it can be yours, because you’ve yet to see everything I can create. Feedback is always welcome at my e-mail address, too: sbstories@hotmail.com. Thanks in advance.))

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