Brenden had no idea what was happening when the bright light engulfed him, lifting him off his feet and pulling him into the cold abyss of space. One moment, he was walking home, and the next, he was inside a sterile, metallic chamber, surrounded by towering, inhuman figures with gleaming eyes and elongated limbs. Panic gripped him as he struggled, but unseen restraints held him in place. The aliens chittered among themselves in an eerie, almost playful manner—this was entertainment for them.

Then, the changes began.

Brenden’s body convulsed as a strange warmth spread through his core, almost like a liquid fire reshaping him from the inside out. His limbs felt weak, his muscles softening, while his hips flared outward unnaturally. He gasped, clutching his chest, only to feel it swell beneath his fingers. His pecs rounded and ballooned into full, sensitive breasts, the weight foreign and impossible to ignore. His hands trembled as they trailed down to his abdomen, where a new curve formed—a slight but undeniable bulge that pulsed with strange life.

The transformation was agonizingly slow, yet somehow his mind dulled with each passing moment, clouded by an odd sensation of warmth and contentment. His features softened, his jawline shrinking, his nose becoming delicate, and his lips plumping into a natural pout. His Adam’s apple disappeared as his voice shifted into a soft, breathy tone, and with each passing second, he became more and more unrecognizable.

His clothes dissolved into nothing, leaving him bare and vulnerable. Brenden—or rather, she—clutched her swelling belly, horror flickering in her eyes as the final change settled in. A powerful, alien-induced fertility coursed through her, making her womb tremble with a craving she couldn't comprehend. She wasn't just a woman—she was pregnant. And that would never change.

The aliens observed with fascination, clicking and whirring in their strange language as they transported her to her new home: the breeding farm.

There, she was surrounded by others—former humans who had suffered the same fate. Some of them still wept and fought against their reality, but many had already succumbed. Their heavy breasts dripped with milk, their swollen bellies a sign of the endless cycle they had been forced into. She felt hands on her body, guiding her into a pen, where she would remain, always fertile, always producing.

At first, she screamed. She clawed at the walls, begged in a voice that barely sounded like her own. But as time passed, something inside her cracked. The resistance faded, her thoughts slowing, her human memories slipping away like a distant dream. She became like the others—docile, obedient, content to be milked, bred, and cared for.

One day, she no longer remembered what "Earth" was.

She only knew the warmth of her swollen belly, the pleasure of producing milk, and the gentle hands of her caretakers. She barely spoke anymore—just soft, contented moos, like the others.

She had become exactly what they wanted her to be.

And she would never leave.