This is part of a project to touch up and publish an older series of works I had done in the past, placing them on Literotica. There are quite a few parts, so they will seem repetitive as more are updated, and since they are not being completely revised, they will show their age. There will also be some questionable content, and due to said age, may not be presented in the most palatable manner, as much as I may have believed I did those years ago. Please keep this in mind.
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Yelena tuned out the flash from the muzzle of the pistol, focusing solely on the recoil coursing through her wrist, the report of the weapon muffled by her ear protection. Shell casings ejected from the weapon, tinkling onto the floor without notice, as neat little holes appeared in the paper silhouette at the far end of the range. Soon, the slide of the weapon stuck back, as the last round impacted the special backboard at the end of the range, designed to effectively 'soak up' rounds, rather than being solid steel and thus running the risk of ricochet. Like firing into wood. She dropped the empty magazine from her pistol and carefully placed it on the counter in front of her, making sure the weapon was clear before punching a button to her side.
A short tone blared, orange lights briefly flashed above her in her stall, and the paper target was slowly brought back to her, a nice little grouping in the centre rings on the torso of the black outline, with a trio of rounds arranged in the infamous 'Mozambique Drill', two holes just off to the sides of the centre torso rings, and one almost scoring a bullseye on the head. She smiled appreciatively at the grouping, satisfied with the accuracy, before she tore the paper target down, and pinned up a second one, ready to continue. She loaded a second magazine into her pistol, punched the button again to return the new target to its previous position, flapping from momentum before coming to a halt. She took aim again, and then started firing a second time, pacing her shots a little more this time.
The sound of gunfire echoed as she emptied her magazine, and once more repeated the process of clearing her gun and bringing back the target, the grouping even nicer than before since she had a greater interval between shots. This time, she set the cleared weapon down on the counter, and placed the paper target down beside her with the others, locking eyes with a xenomorph lounging lazily on the wall... literally clinging to the side of the wall, tail and one arm hanging down as a sign of its contentedness.
She smirked, and then sighed out as she remembered why it was here; Yelena had been trying to teach the xenomorphs a few basic combat techniques -- at their 'request' -- and found that, whilst half the CQB techniques she taught them were pointless with their own bestial prowess in close quarters, their ability to use firearms was limited. They could grasp the basics, that much was certain, but they had great difficulty in even aiming the weapons, their way of 'seeing' the world just not enough for them to effectively sight firearms. They tried, but against flat target silhouettes at least, they performed poorly. Furthermore, their hands made it difficult to hold most human weapons, their lanky fingers proving to be somewhat of a nuisance for guns designed for human ergonomics.
Still, they were quick learners in regards to anything else, and it meant that, should the colony ever need to protect itself from invaders, the aliens would be more than prepared to assist. Of course, she also considered that it meant teaching them to be even more effective killers should they decide they were done with humanity... though after what happened the first time, when they
weren't
killing anyone, Yelena concluded there wasn't much anyone could do to stop them if they really wanted to end all life in the colony... though murder seemed secondary to sluttery, it seemed. The alien regarded her coolly and with an enticing smile. Yelena simply rolled her eyes and made her way out the door, into a small open space meant for sparring and exercise.
Some gym equipment lined the walls, and through one door lay the quarters for her whole team... she had been rather strict, and mandated that no Marine bring home an 'extra-terrestrial lady friend' to the Barracks for 'fun time'. That was to be kept out of the sleeping quarters, and if the aliens weren't willing to go far for some 'nookie', then to do it out in the gym area where everyone could see them. Of course, 'public shaming' no longer worked in this place in regards to sex, not since the aliens turned everyone into voyeurs. Admittedly, it was somewhat liberating, even to Yelena, but she had to maintain discipline whenever she was on duty... they were still Colonial Marines, after all. The xenomorph from before had followed her into the exercise atrium, though it didn't seem too intent on 'molesting' her... it looked like it wanted to watch her.
Yelena had no issue with that; she liked exercising in peace, though she knew it only wanted to watch her whilst she was in her tight-fitting PT gear. She made her way over to a rack holding some dumbbells, took two ten-kilogram weights, and started performing some curls. Her body tensed up, despite the weight not being anything special, and she couldn't help but feel the alien's figurative stare fixating on her ass... the Sergeant knew the aliens had a fascination with her musculature, though they still appreciated her more feminine features... though she was certain they had become a bit more 'exaggerated' since she first met these things... it was apparently not an isolated phenomenon, as people all over the colony reported bodily features 'improving'... breasts growing larger and perkier, dicks getting thicker and longer. Some women were apparently able to lactate without getting pregnant, and a few men were talking about giving off a rather enticing musk.
She figured it was something contact with the aliens had caused, but so far, most of these 'changes' had been relatively benign; minor, nothing excessive and seemingly improving one's sex life. Of which Yelena now had a healthy one, often sleeping with aliens in private rooms when she could. And even eyeing off some of her men with a lascivious hunger... though she kept it to herself. If she was ever going to act on her desires, it was going to be on her terms. Of course, just as she was thinking of this, she heard one of the doors to the room open, and immediately heard the tell-tale voice of Corporal Sangello.
"Mooornin' Sarge!" he greeted with his usual jovial, cocky attitude. Yelena rolled her eyes, her back turned to him as she continued curling her dumbbells.
"It's not morning, Corporal," she answered.
"Well, I apologise... I've been a little busy, and you lose track of time, y'know?" he explained. Yelena simply mumbled; this friendly demeanour was not something new with the aliens ingratiating themselves into the colony. Sangello had always been a bit of a smart-ass, and his familiar behaviour with her had been a sore point for a while... she just couldn't bust his ass too much for it because he was a fine soldier any other time. He'd do what you ordered, and he'd do it with some pride, but there was always a hint of cocky smart mouth in whatever he did. She was certain he tried to needle her on purpose, but he could be counted on... most of the time.
"And doing what, exactly? I don't recall you being on any shifts this day, Corporal," she responded, remembering that everyone had leave this day... whatever he could've been busy with, she doubted it was genuine work; he was dutiful, yes, but he was also the first to do nothing if he could help it. That, or find some girl he could hit on in the hopes of striking it lucky... fortunately for him, he was a reasonable charmer, even if he was a terrible liar, and he had looks on his side to boot. Of course, he probably got his fill of alien pussy these days to satisfy him... or perhaps not. Yelena turned around to face her Corporal, and noticed, for just a moment, his gaze at a downwards angle before he met her eyes. There was a moment of understanding, as Yelena realised he'd been staring at her ass.
A somewhat new development, as none of her marines ever looked at her desirously... at least, not that she knew, or noticed, or cared to notice. But perhaps things were different now. All the same, she kept quiet, as she moved over to a curl-bar, and started lifting that as well. Sangello still hadn't answered her.
"Well... you know, just things," he answered wryly, just skirting the edge of being a disobedient smart-mouth. He knew her limits, and he'd been on the receiving end of her wrath before... so he would tone it down after a while, just to prevent her from exacting some punishment on him for excessive 'assholery', as it were.
"Things... you're a terrible liar, Corporal," she stated.
"So you tell me, Sarge," he answered honestly. That much, he couldn't deny. But again, she felt that hungry stare of his resting on her rear... and felt a devious urge well up in her own body. The xenomorph in the room must have sensed as much, because she saw it grin at her from the corner of her eye, before moving around to the other side of the room. After some debate, Yelena decided 'fuck it', knowing she could still bust Sangello's ass if he decided what was about to happen would make her any less soft in the future. She put the curl bar down on the ground, and turned to him, donning a stern but knowing expression.
"Corporal Sangello, why are you here," she asked... watching as the alien manoeuvred around behind Sangello, simply waiting for the right moment.
"Can't a guy get some weights in?" he answered innocently, though there was no use in fooling her, even if he didn't quite realise it. He'd come to stare... to ogle and enjoy her. She felt flattered, in a way, that with all these aliens around, someone human would still want to look at her... well, now she was going to give him quite the view indeed.