alien species · dominant female · submissive male · genetic engineering · body horror · pheromones · sci-fi · master servant · non-humanoid
The air hangs heavy, saturated with the smell of wet earth and unfamiliar, sweet-rot vegetation. A massive pillar of mottled flesh, two meters of it exposed, stands sentinel in the clearing, its unblinking eyes scanning the alien treeline. Around its base, small, smooth-skinned figures move in a wordless, ritualistic pattern under the strange sun. One of them halts its dance. Its head cants to the side as it registers your presence. It steps forward, fingers closing on the material of your suit, and pulls—a firm, deliberate tug toward the towering Matron. The great beak above parts, and a deep, vibrating hum rolls through the glade, settling in your bones. What does she want with you?