Soldiers Aspire to Meat Toilet Promotion - 1
"The Resistance business seems more or less wrapped up…."
I couldn't avoid prison, of course. Even setting aside the Superior Race matter, letting someone who went on a shooting spree at school walk free without punishment was just wrong. Still, I'd chosen my words carefully to avoid aggravated charges and brutal torture, so prison life shouldn't be too harsh.
"Next on the schedule… the army, huh."
I let out a deep sigh.
The military had become a rather complicated institution after the Great Purification, when every man on Earth vanished.
The Arken had conquered Earth. Humanity lost all rights and became wards under their protection and oversight. Naturally, nations no longer needed standing armies. In the old days, a strong military could start wars on flimsy pretexts and attack other countries, but now even powerful nations couldn't wield that power without alien approval.
The Arken race hated conflict and loved peace. If they hadn't been wired that way from the start, they'd have collapsed from infighting before ever reaching the stars. Humanity, with its primitive tech far from true space colonization, could still kill each other if it set its mind to it—and advanced civilizations even more so.
What's more, the Arken saw humans as cute, childish beings. No owner would let two cats in the house fight to the death over "rightful ownership of the second-floor cat tower" or "exclusive rights to the treats." The cats could scream all they wanted; it wasn't the owner's problem.
But militaries couldn't vanish entirely. Emergencies might overwhelm police, like riots or violence beyond their control. The existence of the international antisocial group known as the Resistance made nations crave "more than police power." Plus, for small-scale border skirmishes or shows of force short of full war, armies were still needed. The Arken rarely took sides, so petty squabbles often flared and fizzled before their gaze reached them.
Scrapping advanced stockpiled weapons and bases overnight was a massive undertaking, so disarmament happened gradually. With most men gone—literally vanished—armies had no choice but to shrink anyway.
This transformed military now had to prove its harmlessness just by existing.
We must submit to the Superior Race! Never do anything to arouse suspicion!
Armies weren't like other groups. Even merciful, kind Arken couldn't help eyeing human militaries warily. That suspicion wasn't grave concern, more like Those cat's claws are getting long—better trim them before someone gets scratched. But from the claws' perspective, they had no choice but to glare back and insist, They're really short! They couldn't scratch anyone!
So armies underwent massive downsizing and radical reform. Korea's didn't remain the "National Army"—it became the Slave Army. The name carried the obvious meaning: slaves to the Arken race. Other nations followed suit with similar rebrands.
They were like pets with separation anxiety, calling me over at every chance to swear loyalty.
Well, it's necessary.
There was no North Korea in this world. There had been, but I'd obliterated the regime the moment I arrived in Korea—deemed unnecessary. No need to worry about threats from China, Russia, or Japan. I could handle routine diplomatic spats myself, and none would dare escalate to real conflict with armies.
It was ironic, but serving me well and earning my love and favor had become a viable national security strategy.
Besides, militaries were inherently rough, insular groups. With postwar society in chaos, it was natural they'd be tempted to seize power. Every soldier needed to know their true master, even if it took flashy, over-the-top methods to drill it in.
I climbed into the car.
/////
"Welcome, Lord Rishian!"
A woman with massive breasts bowed before me. She looked young, but since the Great Purification, you couldn't guess a woman's age from her face or figure. The stars on her cap suggested a decent rank.
"Our troops are waiting. Once you're ready, we can—"
"Now."
I knew well how tedious and annoying it was to wait on VIPs.
On the parade ground, countless soldiers stood in perfect ranks and files, awaiting me.
"All troops, salute Lord Rishian of the Superior Race!"
"Loyalty!"
The female soldiers snapped salutes toward me. The motions were familiar from my past life, but the details differed.
Their eyes… I still can't get used to it, no matter how many times I see it.
In a normal army, the VIP on the reviewing stand was just scenery. Soldiers gave minimal respect as humans to humans, but not heartfelt reverence or loyalty.
These were different.
How do they brainwash them like this…?
They gazed at me like a hero—or a celebrity.
I'd thought I was used to such looks, but soldiers eyeing a reviewing-stand VIP that way? Never.
Next most alien was their uniforms.
Service uniforms.
The old digital camo still existed. But these were modified.
Service uniforms. The base was standard digital camo. But the chest was wide open, exposing bare skin. The breast pockets weren't sewn on—instead, they dangled precariously from the top hem, barely covering the nipples. Those jiggling breasts, big enough to fight with, bounced relentlessly as arms rose in salute.
The crotch was a huge inverted triangle cutout, baring skin. Taut, alluring inner-thigh muscles and the pussy's seductive contours were visible. To preserve some dignity, the at-ease stance hid the pussy directly. A strap from the waist belt led down, ending in a small circular unit patch barely covering it. The patch depicted a nude female soldier doggy-styling—symbol of the Service Legion.
"Slave Army oath! We humbly accept the dominion of the great Superior Race Arken, swear absolute obedience to orders, and proudly become meat toilets ready to offer our pussies anytime!"
"We deeply reflect on old humanity's rudeness to the Superior Race, holding respect and reverence in atonement!"
"For the inferior race humanity's survival, we forever thank the Arken for gracing us with superior semen, repaying that grace with love!"
The soldiers bellowed in unison.
I sighed inwardly.
Hoo…
It made my head spin every time. At school, in the army—they proudly uttered lewd words, glorying in becoming Superior Race meat toilets.
Obviously, the Arken hadn't intended this. They even found it a bit off-putting.
Arken looked human-like, but that didn't make humans sexual objects—not quite. Half were like, Arken should stick to Arken; why mix with aliens? They wouldn't touch a harem of human women.
Sure, some thought If it gets me off, who cares if it's not Arken? But they had better alternatives: androids. No ethical issues, customizable to taste for cheap. Why cross the galaxy to Earth for human sex just for pleasure?
A bit much… but I can't stop it.
This was humanity's doing. The Great Purification killed all men but made women's bodies even lewder—and warped their minds. They craved filthier thoughts than before.
If men survived, marriages would thrive, lovers abound with kids. Sadly, no men left. Only Arken males remained.
New rulers fresh off conquest—humanity, terrified, couldn't dare sexualize them. But they couldn't suppress urges, so they debased themselves as lowly meat toilets, sexually serving the Arken who'd come to breed them.
Society warped accordingly: sexual service to the Superior Race above all, a lewd, vulgar world.
The female soldiers moved.
"All troops! Submission salute—begin!"
They flipped up breast pockets to bare nipples, removed pussy-covering patches, and pinned them to collars. Military uniforms, sure—but far more suited to sex than combat.
Actually, sex with me mattered more to them than fighting, so maybe not so strange.
"Loyalty!"
Left arms cupped breasts to thrust them out; right hands saluted.
I didn't hate it. These countless women stood ready to spread at my command, cocks in pussies.
With a relaxed expression, I received their salute.
Maybe my imagination, but their pussies looked a little wet.