Streaks of light bounced in the beady, watery eyes of spectators last week as a box shaped metallic aerial compartment hovered above flattened, whistling treetops at roughly 30 minutes past midnight. Emerging from a blinding wave of colors, unveiling mists as it shot in all directions, were a group of renegade space aliens. Their stature short, but cranial size large, they began to address the spectators, and people of Earth via available media sources, through a translator expressing their “entrepreneurial wishes, specifically inthe market of women’s products” here on Earth. Finally, marking that day, and after days of amassing a sizeable fortune to spearhead their business, the small union of space aliens has launched an advertisement campaign for “breast enhancement supplements”, “space-age bras”, being supplied at a specialized clinic which additionally offers “vaginal and breast exams.” A long, winding attendance of women filled the streets, as the line segmented into portions roughly ten to fifteen at a time and burst into a crowd, cramping into the small shop. The joyous afternoon quickly took a turn for the worst when women were reported as not having “left the shop” or “return home”. Reactions were cool until an eye witness report was anonymously supplied by an escapee fromthe shop.
“When I was waiting in line for a free breast exam, the aliens looking down the line with those cold, calculating eyes, we were all moving down this long tight tunnel like place, arranged one by one, and all I could hear was this loud “pop” sound at the end of it a few minutes after someone entered a door at the very back. I finally got there, and this bolt gun was pressed to my forehead, and it squeezed it, and I was knocked unconscious... But I hadn’t died.” After wiping the tears from her eyes, she continued to tell her eye-widening, gut-wrenching account of what was to come.
“I felt them load my body in something, and I felt like I was rocking in the back of a car or something… Then I woke up… and I was in this room, really wide, piled under dead bodies… I saw these aliens, on an alien space like altar thing… a big rectangular, stainless steel block which bodies were placed on… had very elegant things carved on it I think… But these girls, tossed on the slab, were resurrected after they said odd chants and threw up weird hand signs… These girls were brought back, and they were… slaves. Sex slaves. For the space aliens.”
Shocked and disturbed by these accusations, members of the alien trade union denied this saying “Foolish females with naturally inclined diminutive cognitive organ function, pre breast augmentation examinations does not equate to pre-requisites for sex slave trafficking.” In other, but related news, reports of citizens staring warily at the newly constructed “Pleasure Box”, a menacing box which the city now dwells in the shadow of, has urged police investigation between the unfounded accusations of sex trafficking, and menacing cubes of alien construction. FAWX News Reporter McPhag decided to achieve an in depth analysis of the Pleasure Box’s inside to further the story, which began as an elegantly marble foyer, guiding guests to an array of passages, snaking through the complex in a maze like construction. McPhag reports that he was greeted by a man with a dark hair, and calm eyes, and drenched in long, silky red cloth, patterned with gold thread. Below is a transcription of the conversation:
“I’m McPhag of action FAWX news; can I investigate a few of the rooms in the so called ‘PleasureBox’?”
“Jimzoth tastes the purity of the shimmering waters in your mind. Desire liquefies and trickles through your bone, soft chills dust them lightly like the brim of a feather. Her whimpers send warm tingles through you, as her moist eyes relay lust in yours, you feel her body break with your hands upon her, and you feel the shivers of her skin in your tips. Liquids flood her mouth, she swells and she feels a pressure gradually build, unbearably, and she gulps, as your tongue courses over the goose bumps of her neck, as you breathe in the soft air of sweat and hormone… She anxiously shudders, as you pluck her sturdy, rosy nipples, as your fingers draw near the heated, wet cleft between her soft thighs…”
“Creepy. I’d like to have some of that.”
“Sorry sir, this is for space aliens only. Also, this is only for space aliens in the space alien union.”
However, further anonymous testimony validates the previous allegations against the Pleasure Box, and the space alien trade union, stating that Aliens working in the female product and genital observatory store pick and choose which to kill in the effortless manner of a cattle abattoir, then resurrect their bodies in the “Pleasure Box” using ancient alien ritual tecniques, where they then serve their alien masters by performing incredible sexual acts in an attempt to gratify them. Damn.
So could it be possible that these entrepreneurs actually infiltrated earth to gain access to our hot Earth women, and abuse them as a commodity in their freakish, inter-galactic fetishes? Time will tell.
UPDATE: McPhag has been fired from FAWX news for violating the FAWX news ToS for supplying erotic commentary in a seemingly harmless article.
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