by May Sage
Cinderella
A little siren
Rise
The King needs an heir and that means finding some sort of woman to do the job;
“That’s all it’s about, ultimately: basic, carnal compatibility in order to satisfy this need. For that reason, the pictures I request of those who wish to apply are explicit. If you aren’t comfortable with these demands, don’t bother applying.”
Ella applies, seeing straight through the bullshit; she goes as far as derisively add a set of pictures fitting the requirements the letter demands:
A picture of her "pussy" - a fat, indolent Persian - and of her in her nightwear - yoga pants and a hoodie.
In lieu of an introduction, her message reads:
« Dear Daniel Franko Phillipe Del Luz,
I’ve applied to guarantee that I’m not summoned to your little orgy.
Fuck you. We aren’t all stupid.
Ella. »
She didn't expect anyone to read it...
Let alone the King.
The Klint invaded Earth for its resources; by that, they certainly didn't mean the dilapidated planet or the ridiculously archaic technology.
No, they meant the women.
A superior race in every way, the Klint long ago decided to abolish natural birthing; every child had been engineered, created, designed; they were perfect, until things went wrong, hence their need for human breeders.
Lena is no breeder, but she never had a choice. The moment the empire tested her and found her a hundred percent match to their Emperor, she was their.
His.
Her job was simple. Stand there, open her legs, let them insert some sperm, push a child out and disappear. Then, one day, they threatened that child.
Mistake.