War of the Pussy Snatchers - Interlude 01

I'm trying something different with this series by introducing interludes that will run in between the longer-form chapters. These short stories are not directly related to the main story but instead build upon the Pussy Snatchers universe and feature new characters who will become important later in the series. I hope you enjoy these just as much as my main stories!

DISCLAIMER:

This story may not be for everyone. It contains the following sexual scenarios: lesbian sex, mind control, oral sex, analingus, extreme age-gap/mature sex, and female ejaculation. If you are offended by any of these subjects I suggest you stop reading here as this story clearly isn't for you.

War of the Pussy Snatchers Interlude One: City of Ruin

Setting: An abandoned city in the former state of New Jersey

526th Day After Contact

Marguerite stumbled through empty streets and climbed over hills of rubble in the bombed-out city. She kept to the dark alleyways or indoors as much as possible so she wouldn't be caught out in the open if the demon-women returned. A skirmish between the Americans and the Strange Ones took place a few weeks ago with these streets and avenues serving as battlegrounds. This once- prosperous city had been left decimated in the wake of battle with whole sides of some the downtown skyscrapers in ruins.

During her explorations Marguerite found the bodies of both male soldiers and the female combatants strewn throughout the city, though she mostly found the men since the demon-women almost never left their dead behind. The women still looked human when she found them sleeping forever in the cold but Marguerite knew better even if their eyes had returned to normal. The citizens who had not fled the destruction of the city in time were captured either by the disparate remains of the American military or the devil-eyed women who fought against them. Now there was only Marguerite left.

Seeing hundreds of cars abandoned along the side of the road in a large city devoid of any human presence felt surreal. During the first few weeks after the battle, Marguerite saw a few lost souls like herself looking for someplace to hide but she never approached them. They were ghosts like herself, there was nothing real or tangible there to hold onto. Marguerite hadn't seen another living soul for over a week now. This city was hers alone, with all the opportunities and pitfalls entailed by that independence. No one left to fear but also no one left to help her either. Fortunately Marguerite had grown well-used to taking care of herself by now.

Marguerite's journey began thousands of miles away in her tiny village in Guatemala over two years ago. She went out one evening to gather fresh water from the stream outside her village for their dinner and during the short time she was gone militants attacked her people with their knives and guns. With God's mercy, Marguerite went unnoticed as the junta swept through the jungle into her village and shot dead any man who dared defy them. The rainforest that surrounded her village was like Marguerite's second home and she snuck back through the dark overgrowth both unseen and unheard.

Marguerite watched hidden in the leaves as all the men of her village including her father, her uncles, and her three brothers were lined up in the village square with their hands behind their heads as they knelt to the ground. These men whom Marguerite had known her entire life were executed one by one with a bullet to the back of their heads and their bodies left to rot in the dirt. Marguerite would never forget the screams of women who watched their husbands, fathers, and sons murdered in front of them. They ripped Marguerite's heart to tatters but as much as she felt like joining their chorus she wouldn't dare reveal her hiding spot. Marguerite's father had the misfortune of seeing all his brothers and sons shot dead before his end mercifully arrived.

All the men of their village considered Marguerite's mother Rosalita to be the most beautiful woman in town and Marguerite's younger sister Juanita took after her mother while the oldest sibling Marguerite inherited more of her father's characteristics. Still lovely but not heart-stoppingly gorgeous like Juanita who was pursued by every boy. That beauty proved their undoing as the prettiest women like Marguerite's family members were separated from the rest of the surviving women and children and taken to the town hall to serve as spoils of victory for the militants. Marguerite watched the soldiers tear her mother and Juanita from each other and drag them crying and screaming to their fate. The weeping and moaning of these unfortunate women could be heard all the way from the thick bush of the jungle Marguerite hid within.

Marguerite heard tales of these evil men's wicked deeds before and knew the girls they liked best were either kept as their own personal playthings or else sold as slaves on the black market. Considering Juanita and her mother's stunning beauty, Marguerite had no doubt that once the soldiers tired of them they would be sold to the highest bidder and forced to spend the rest of their lives as sex slaves. Marguerite would have much preferred her father and brother's fates to that one.

Marguerite loved this forest and had been hiding and creeping within its leafy cradle since she was a toddler. She easily evaded the militants patrolling the outskirts of the village without making a sound. Marguerite needed to cry so badly but wouldn't allow herself to succumb to grief lest the sounds of her weeping betray her. There would be time aplenty for tears and mourning later. For now, Marguerite's only imperative was for survival.

Marguerite had nowhere to go. All her family and friends had just been killed or taken captive. Marguerite decided to migrate northerly with nothing but her shoes and clothing for possessions and she wouldn't stop walking until she saw the United States for the first time. She lived off the land as her father and brothers taught her and relied on the kindness of strangers to keep from starving and to help transport her ever northward when her legs failed.

Marguerite started her journey chaste as she planned to first lie upon her marriage bed totally pure. She remained fortunate to keep her virginity during her travels with so many vile men in this land eager to take advantage of desperate women. Marguerite's purity suffered one slight lapse when she reached Juarez after half a year's journey and needed some way to convince a

gringo

to sneak her over the border into Tejas. She had a little money gathered from working the fields during harvest time and from charity at the refugee camps but not quite enough to satisfy her benefactor's risk/reward calculation. To secure safe passage in the hidden compartment of his trailer, Marguerite took the white truck driver's tiny thing between her lips and sucked on it until he finished in her mouth.

Marguerite was shocked at how easily she snuck into America. The truck driver wanted a second round to celebrate their successful crossing and ultimately Marguerite decided blowing him would lead to much fewer consequences than blowing him off. At least he didn't try taking things further than that, a real gentleman that one. He didn't even make her swallow his spunk.

The north side of the border didn't look any different but it felt like a whole new world with opportunities Marguerite had only dreamed of back in her paltry hometown. Even after crossing the border, Marguerite still felt that incessant northward tug and only stopped in a location for a few days or weeks before moving on again. She learned fluent English during this time but unfortunately she also learned more about the evils of this world than she ever cared to.

Marguerite worked as a maid cleaning rooms in seedy motels just long enough to earn enough money for a bus ticket to her next destination. She was quite young, very attractive, and undocumented. An easy target for predators like the manager of the second motel she worked at in Texas. He stole her virginity after cornering her in the laundry room one morning while the other workers were busy. The manager held Marguerite down and covered her mouth as he took her by force once and then again. The dirty concrete floor was a stark contrast to the soft bed Marguerite imagined she would lay upon for her first time with a man. The bastard knew with Marguerite's immigration status she wouldn't dare report the attack to the police and seek justice on him when doing so might carry the risk of being deported back to her home country.

Between that horrid first experience with sex and the militia who destroyed her hometown, murdered most of her family, and raped the remainder, Marguerite's opinion of men soured considerably. She no longer trusted any man and sometimes doubted she would ever willingly take one for a lover. That viewpoint only strengthened with each time a customer or employer harassed Marguerite at her job or took advantage of her due to her lowly status. She became with child after one of these unwanted encounters and in total repudiation of her once-strong Catholic faith, Marguerite self-administered an abortion. Marguerite was in no position to care for an infant and had no desire to raise the offspring of one of her rapists. These assaults occurred with such regularity now that whenever a man forced his thing inside her Marguerite merely rolled her eyes and silently willed them to get it over with quickly so she could get back to work.

Despite all this adversity, Marguerite loved being in America. The people here were overall very friendly to her and she felt some measure of safety and security for the first time since her perilous adventure began. The dollars she used for spending money would have amounted to a fortune in Marguerite's poor village. Marguerite dreamed of one day living in one of the great metropolises like New York City or Chicago where she hoped to use the Guatemalan embassy to determine whether it would be possible to track down her surviving family members. But the best thing about this country was that Marguerite never had to worry about people with guns suddenly appearing and killing everyone.

Then seeming overnight the entire world went insane. Women slaughtered men, whole sections of the country were conquered by a mysterious enemy, military reprisals by the government commenced and Marguerite was caught in the thick of it. At first, Marguerite was totally on the women's side and even considered joining them. But after seeing how harshly and cruelly they dealt with men and watching so many innocent women kidnapped and twisted by evil, Marguerite decided these devil-women were not good people either.

Marguerite had traveled all the way up to the Carolinas when the Strange One's first attacks began and she remained stuck in that region for several months before it was safe to relocate. Fortunately her immigration status became the last thing on anyone's mind and no one hassled her over her citizenship since the war began. She heard talk that New York had become a safe haven for women but access through the state borders was tightly controlled. Marguerite journeyed in that direction and made it as far as Jersey before forces vying for control of the regions surrounding New York trapped her within this city while a battle raged outside. She hid among frozen animal carcasses in the walk-in refrigerator of a slaughterhouse for five days until the rumbles of explosions ceased and Marguerite could move about freely once again.

The battle of Jersey ended in a stalemate with neither side claiming a substantial victory yet the city had been destroyed anyway. Marguerite spent the next few weeks scavenging for food and supplies in the city's carcass until she felt prepared enough for the hike to New York. Running water stopped working once the generators powering the pumps at the water plant failed but Marguerite found plenty of water bottles as well as dried goods to sustain herself in the abandoned supermarkets. She stocked up on items like flashlights, batteries, lighters, and clothing and even built fires to heat water for baths or cooking. Whatever money she found Marguerite left behind. American currency held no value any longer.

Marguerite walked along the downtown street humming a native song to herself. Her footsteps echoed loudly through the silent city and Marguerite hunched her shoulders in consternation at the sudden feeling that she was being watched. It still seemed so eerie to look around at a city completely devoid of people. Dogs and cats strayed freely and Marguerite even saw coyotes picking through some rubble a few days ago. Nothing else remained in this city but shadows and the promise of death. Marguerite must be away from this ghastly place as soon as possible.

Marguerite was a short young woman with light brown skin and long, curly black hair she typically had tied back in a ponytail. Her eyes were dark and expressive with long, fluttering eyelashes and thick, bold eyebrows she could never pluck at enough. The large size of her night-shaded eyes and eyelashes in relation to the rest of her face lent Marguerite a dark, exotic appearance.

Marguerite boasted a heavy chest, a slim waist, and wide hips but she was far from plump. She had been the chunkiest member of her family back in Guatemala but nearly two years of hiking through the most dangerous parts of Central America, working long, back-breaking shifts in farms and hotels across Mexico and the American South, and also avoiding the new dangers posed by the invaders of the former United States had eliminated nearly all the fat from her body.

Marguerite wore her hair tied back as usual and had donned clothing looted from one of the apartments she spent a night in. She wore tights and running shoes with a sweatshirt that had the logo for a university Marguerite that probably didn't even exist anymore. Active wear in case Marguerite had to make a run for it. So far she had avoided direct contact with the Strange Ones by avoiding the main roads and ducking into buildings or alleys if she detected their presence nearby. Squads of the American military roamed these streets sometimes but Marguerite trusted them even less and avoided them just the same. The patrols by both factions had thankfully lessened in the weeks following the battle.

Marguerite also carried a backpack with just the essentials; she had a bedroll, a tent, and a larger pack containing heavier supplies that she liberated from an outdoor supply store and hid in one of her safe houses. Those items would be the last things Marguerite grabbed before skipping town.

Marguerite froze when she looked up and noticed someone standing on top of a building at the end of the street. The mysterious onlooker was the first person Marguerite had seen for over a week and her silhouette displayed the lines and curves of a distinctly feminine shape. Worry twisted Marguerite's stomach and she prayed to the Virgin Mary that she somehow hadn't been seen. Marguerite turned and walked briskly in the opposite direction.

Marguerite stopped dead in her tracks when she saw at the other end of the street a figure standing atop a large, building-sized mountain of rubble. She wasn't near enough to make out the figure's appearance but Marguerite did see long yellow hair swaying in the breeze behind them. She couldn't help but notice there was also a gun strapped to the stranger's back. Marguerite looked to her left and saw two more women skulking through an alleyway headed right for her.

They

had found her.

Marguerite whimpered as she fled down the only unoccupied path. She looked back to see the shadows of women pursuing her. They didn't run to chase her. They didn't need to. Marguerite

knew

she should have left this city earlier in the week but she kept putting it off like a fool. She had grown too used to comforts like hot baths and plentiful food. Marguerite had forgotten the difficulties of living on the road and had become too soft these last few easy weeks.

Marguerite saw more and more women converging on her until more than a dozen followed in pursuit. Marguerite ditched the encumbrance of her backpack and broke into a dead sprint before angling left down a dim alleyway. She felt winded after racing only a quarter mile but the adrenaline pumping through her system ensured she wouldn't slow anytime soon. These other women were faster than her though and they seemed to be in constant communication with each other considering how efficiently they closed off all possible routes of escape. Marguerite never heard them speaking over a shortwave radio but realized with dismay that whenever she veered in a new direction her pursuants seemed to know instinctively which way she would take before she did. Were they watching her movements from the rooftops as well as from the ground?

Marguerite exited the narrow alleyway which emptied into an open square outside the former courthouse. Fear overwhelmed her when she looked around and she realized how she had been outsmarted. Marguerite was completely surrounded and several women were closing in on her in a square formation that left no opportunity for escape.

The combat gear worn by these demons made it difficult to tell they were women at all but the delicate features of their faces and slight curves to their bodies were dead giveaways to their gender. Some of the women wore tactical gear with light body armor while others were merely dressed in cargo pants and black sweaters. When a few of them trained their rifles on Marguerite she froze and held her hands up in surrender.

"Halt!" one of the women ordered. "Do not resist! We have you surrounded!"

A group of over a dozen women formed a circle around her, trapping Marguerite within. The one who called out to her seemed to be their leader. She lowered her rifle and stepped warily closer. The woman wore cargo pants, boots, a black turtleneck sweater, and a black knit skullcap. She wore large glasses with black frames and had dots of brown freckles covering her face. Her long red hair had been braided and hung down the back of her hat to her waist. Judging by her odd body frame, Marguerite surmised that the redhead had once been rather plump but months of prolonged training and battle hardened her body and developed her into this firm, muscular form.

The redhead cocked her head to the side as if she were listening to someone intently and then informed her compatriots, "The northern sector is secure. We discovered a total of four civilians including this one, three of which are potentials. The unessential one has already been dealt with."

Marguerite heard tales from other survivors that these Strange Ones could communicate without speaking but had never seen evidence of it until now. What other secrets were they hiding behind those soulless eyes?

"So the mission was a success then?" asked a tall, beautiful Asian woman to Marguerite's left.

"A resounding one," said the redheaded leader happily. "This state is ours, the first we've assumed total control of since the week this war began. Now I think it's time we take our just reward."

The redhead stepped closer to Marguerite as the younger girl refused to let her fear show even though she trembled visibly. Marguerite would keep strong and persevere through her terror, even with the dead eyes of these Strange Ones staring at her hungrily.

"Have you survived here all on your own since the battle ended three weeks ago?" asked the redhead. "That's impressive."

Marguerite wouldn't allow herself to succumb to this creature's flattery. She stared daggers at the Strange One sharp enough to slice titanium.

"Oh ho ho, a feisty one!" the woman marveled as she drew ever nearer. "So pretty too! I prefer the ones who fight us, you know. The ones who resist the most always make the greatest Hivesisters. I'm Alexis, by the way. AKA the woman whose cunt you'll be worshipping within the next few minutes. Who might you be?"