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Story Notes:

Hello. Over the last few years I submitted a bunch of stories to this website that are, in essence, vehicles for goofy (sometimes gross) macro smut. They feature themes I enjoy, such as role reversal, power fantasies and kinky stuff, and share a similar structure - setup, buildup, and then bam, all is macro. Not wasting too much of anyone's time there, and certainly not mine.

This story is in *some* ways different. As with my original series, there's a real plot here, and a ton of characters. Even moral dilemmas! I'm sorry to say that this is novel length, too, more than twice as long as my next longest story here. It's still not going to be super polished, due to the limited time I have for this stuff, but if you're the type of person who likes plot in your porn, I hope you enjoy this.

This is also my first story on this website that takes place in a recognizable simile of the real world, instead of unnamed cities that are vague, deliberately misleading amalgams of American and British conventions and other red herrings. For the first time, (many) real countries and places are named explicitly. I performed real (if hasty) research, but I have likely not been there. Many characters speak languages that I don't speak and they belong to cultures I haven't experienced. Any offense given is unintentional; remember this is a work of fiction, and all characters are fictional and exist only for your entertainment. Any similarity to real people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Any brands are the sole property of their owners.

Several of my stories have gay protagonists, but not this one. The two protagonists in this story both consider themselves straight (but are open minded!) There are major but secondary gay and lesbian characters. There are both giants and giantesses.

The goofy (sometimes gross) macro smut is also definitely still there, wherever it fits.

A chapter will be released three times a week, roughly on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, although there may be temporary schedule changes here and there if necessary. There will be a total of twenty chapters plus an epilogue.

Feel free to review chapters individually and please point out mistakes if you spot them. Just remember that "I wish this story was this completely different story I've read before" is not productive feedback. I'm not writing this story by committee.

Thank you and have fun!

Another treacherous drop of sweat rolled down Brianna's neck. It cleared her loose t-shirt with ease, ran down her back and was absorbed by the waistband of her underwear. She shifted uncomfortably under the scorching hot sun. The sky was clear and still perfectly blue - far more blue than anyone would have liked, given the circumstances. Her peers and their luggage stood in a line to her left and right, most of them looking as sweaty and uncomfortable as she felt. They all faced the big meadow, where a huge space had been left open, a square with a side length exceeding half a kilometre. Far in the distance were the eager crowds, looking tiny from her position. Far ahead, and all around the open meadow, and all the way behind Brianna too - behind her minders, the politicians, the media, the parents and relatives and the ridiculous amount of security personnel. There must be hundreds of thousands of people watching. Maybe millions. She imagined them spreading away for kilometres, spilling out of the park and into the streets. People had come from all over the world, even though every TV channel and internet personality was filming this. Even in the distance, the clamor of their conversations was pounding on her head. She wished she had a hat.

Like her, they were all waiting. Watching the sky. Watching each other. Watching Brianna and the others. Every second, a hundred smartphones shot a new picture of her. Forcing a smile, she stood very still as two more drops of sweat rolled down from her scalp. And Caitriona had been so proud of Brianna's makeup, too. She imagined the prim woman standing amidst the entourage some distance behind, two little spots of color on her own cheeks as she watched the sun undo all her hard work.

Served her right. Brianna had said no makeup, but had been overruled. She always was, ever since that day - more than two years ago - when she'd said yes, that she wanted to do this, that she was ready to represent humankind in the great beyond.

It had all started exactly three years earlier, during the solstice. That day when the sky turned a bright, unnatural pink... and everything changed forever.

People had only just started to panic at the unusual color when, all of a sudden, vast, alien figures had filled the skies above twelve of Earth's largest cities, towering above their millions of inhabitants. The titanic monsters - because that's how most people saw them at first - were grotesque. Each was almost cuboid, with four powerful, dark green-brown vertical limbs - one in each corner - and a membrane-like skin stretching around the middle of these limbs that presumably contained their main organs in addition to their three very round, very disconcerting eyes. The tops of each limb were longer and prehensile, and the bottoms functioned as feet, more stubby and wider.

Then long, uneven gashes above the eyes had moved and trembled, and a very warm, very pleasant, very human voice spoke from all twelve, the exact same message at the exact same time. "Peace," they said. They waited a few seconds before, heedless of the panicking crowds, the crashing cars, the rapidly approaching news helicopters, they spoke again. "We are the... Pantheon of... Rock. We come to share with the... Human species the enlightenment we... Rocklings have attained."

Hundreds of videos of the message had been taken by all kinds of cameras and smartphones, and Brianna had probably watched them all. She knew the whole speech by heart. She was also certain that the aliens no more called their planet "Rock" than they'd been speaking English - They were probably using some sort of translation device, or method. That had been the subject of much speculation over the last three years. That and... well... everything else.

"Prepare," the Rocklings said. "In Three turns around your star... Sun... Sol, we will visit. We wish to be welcomed in peace and unity by the Human species. You will select Three times Four... representatives. The best of your young, Humans in their prime, Humans with open... minds, Humans... who are forward thinking, your pride and your joy, your... sons and daughters, your hope and your future.

"Choose carefully. The Three times Four will join us. No matter who they are, we will help them... grow. We will share with them our... Technology. Thus enlightened, each and every one of them may lead the Human species into a future of great... Progress and... Development. Thus enlightened, they will... assist you to... mature.

"Each representative must join us... Of their own free will. No coercion. No hesitation. No fear. There is no... drawback. They will be safe. They will be happy. Then we will... separate, and they will remain with you henceforth. Choose carefully. Prepare. We will arrive wherever you choose to gather." And then the sky was blue once more and the aliens gone, not to be seen again since.

The whole planet had been Rockling-crazy ever since. To their credit, most governments didn't try anything as stupid as a cover-up, although some of the more insular dictatorships may have succeeded in keeping their citizens in the dark. But entire economies crashed. Crime soared as people's beliefs and certainties were upturned in the wake of those ten minutes. Hundreds of politicians from every country went on TV and talked, yelled, harangued endlessly. It was a mess.

Finally, after a few months of that, a new UN organization was established to deal with the matter. It was a complicated affair, advised by various universities and research institutions, and overseen by many different countries. And despite the passionate pleas of certain fringe, but very vocal groups early on, this organization wasn't established to oppose the Rocklings in any way. No, if countries wanted contingency plans in case of a hostile invasion - and Brianna was sure many of them did - they were working on them on their own, in secret. But the governments and powerful people couldn't resist the allure of the promised alien technology, the enlightenment that would bring about "great progress and development," so the Organization for Human Advancement through Interspecies Cooperation, or OHAIC, had as its primary mission forming the crew that would be sent to join the Rocklings and learn from them.

Participation had to be voluntary, so every UN member nation was tasked with the independent collection and processing of candidatures. Different countries could do this in different ways - Brianna figured that in certain smaller countries, candidates would have to do little more than asking - but after carefully consulting with experts about the message, the OHAIC set a maximum age limit of 25 years old. In just a few weeks, this limit was amended to 21 years old, and one week later to 18, as experts analyzed monitoring data collected during "The Event" and found that the transmission had to have come from many light years away. They concluded that the Rocklings' talk of "humans in their prime" and "hope for the future" meant the journey would be very long, and that youths would have a much greater chance of making it back alive.

In larger countries like the US, with hundreds of millions of citizens, candidatures rolled in like the tide, seemingly hundreds of thousands of kids and young adults intent on going to- Rock, wherever that was. Brianna later learned that most of those were dismissed almost as quickly, as the government investigated IDs, tax statuses, family situations and other eligibility factors.

At first Brianna had registered as a prank. She was 13 at the time - the bare minimum age - and did it without even telling her parents, just to see what would happen. She was surprised when, two weeks later, she received an invitation for a first interview.

She had a row with her parents then. They told her in no uncertain terms that she was *not* going to go off to another planet, period. And so, in what was her first and probably last ever outburst of teenage rebellion, she snuck out and attended the interview on her own. It wasn't a difficult session - just a bored lady who asked her all sorts of questions about her life and typed the answers into a computer. Another woman and a man were also present, but they didn't speak. She left without any clue as to whether she'd done well, or poorly, or if the interview had even mattered.

The next invitation arrived five days later, and she was asked to bring her parents. Wordlessly, Brianna had given the letter to her mom, who buried her face in her hands and sighed. "Let's go. I'll tell them you want to quit, OK?"

"Sure," Brianna said, although she wasn't sure at all. It was a bit flattering that they were calling her back. Lots of people in her school and in her neighborhood had registered, but not a single one of them claimed to have made it to a second interview. Only a handful had even made it to the first.

This time the interviewer was a man who asked Brianna's mom a lot of questions, ignoring Brianna entirely.

"We- We're not sure that-" her mom had tried to say, but the man waved the objection away.

"Has she ever bullied anyone?" he would ask instead, or: "Does she lie often?"

"No! What a stupid- Of course not," Brianna's mom said. And the questions would continue from there.

Two hours later, the man gathered his papers together - they had included Brianna's medical record, criminal record - clean - and school results, notes from the previous interview and more - and shrugged. "Your daughter has potential. I'd like to send her onward," he said. "Is that OK?"

Her mom froze for a moment. "But... But she has a family..." she said. "A life..."

"If she makes it, her name will go down in history, you know? They will spare no expense to train and prepare her. She'll be set for life." He turned to Brianna then and looked her in the eye. "You *do* want to go, right?"

"I... do," Brianna said, surprising herself. She did. She wanted to go meet the weird sky aliens, somehow. She glanced nervously sideways. "Sorry, mom."

"Fine," mom said without looking at her. "We... She can... do this." There were tears in her eyes when they left the building, but she wiped them away quickly. Brianna held her hand, feeling guilty and excited in equal parts.

Things became chaotic after that. She didn't go to school anymore - they had to go to the neighboring city for her to be examined. Doctors harvested samples from her skin, her hair, her blood, her urine. She had an interview with a psychologist and was given pages and pages of multiple choice tests. She was placed in the same comfortable room as other teenagers and left alone to interact with them. She tried to get to know them. Some of them were chatty, the others clammed up and didn't say a word. At first the faces were always different, and she had trouble keeping track of who she had or hadn't met. But as the days passed there were fewer and fewer faces, until it was only her and an older guy who just glared at her the whole time.

The psychologist who'd been overseeing her all month was there when she stepped out of the room. "Congratulations, Brianna," she said with a small smile. "You're a US candidate."

"I- I am?" Brianna asked, warmth flooding her. "Are you sure?"

"Very sure!" the psychologist said, chuckling.

"Wow. Really? Why me?" And, before the woman could reply: "How many candidates are we sending?"

"Well, you're the only one from here. You might see your competition in DC?"

"In... What?" Brianna asked, stunned. "Uh..."

"OHAIC is there. Congratulations! You leave on Monday."

"Oh... Thanks," she had said. It didn't feel real, not right away. She was moving? Leaving her hometown?

The idea was so strange, so outlandish, she almost forgot to tell her parents. In the end they were supportive - by then they'd gotten used to the idea - but, even though they found out the government would pay for the whole family's stay, they absolutely refused to go with her. "This was your choice," dad had told her, hugging her. "We have our own lives here. We'll visit." So she was on her own. It was fine. It had been her choice.

By the time her fourteenth birthday arrived she was living in a dorm. She didn't stay there for very long, but she did meet some of the other candidates - boys and girls she barely had time to get to know and never laid eyes on again. All except one, that is - Gabriel.

Gabriel was an European candidate. He was tall, blond and blue-eyed, with broad shoulders and a handsome face. He made her heart flutter from the first time she laid eyes on him, and she desperately tried - to no avail - to catch him alone and introduce herself to him. But he was always rushing, never a moment of rest, which she understood if his schedule was anything like hers. She had lessons now - plenty of history, geography, politics, all the subjects OHAIC and her country thought the Rocklings might want to know more about. She also learned about astronomy. Without distractions, she aced every test they gave her.

They put her on a restricted diet and made her exercise regularly with a personal trainer, a pared down but gradually intensifying astronaut's preparation program. She met Caitriona then, as well as her therapist Joachim. Therapy sessions were mandatory, at least twice a week but she could request one whenever she wanted, which she usually didn't.

Soon she moved to her own suite of rooms in the compound and didn't see Gabriel again. Weeks went by, then months. Her entourage grew; her bodyguard Kevin first, then public relations. Even her parents, who visited once a month, had to go through screenings and body checks.

Her fifteenth birthday came and went, and she knew the pool of candidates was getting smaller and smaller, but still she had no idea who the current ones were or how many remained. When she asked, she was told all of their identities were secret, for their protection. Out in the world, tensions were getting close to breaking point; the more extreme of the paranoid, anti-alien factions were getting more vocal, more violent and more dangerous. Some former candidates went public as soon as they were rejected or dropped out. Small wars broke out, and she had a gut feeling some politicians weren't happy about their candidates being rejected. For example, both India *and* Iran declared war on Pakistan. UN Peacekeepers were sent to help defend Pakistan against an invasion, a unanimous decision of the UNSC.

When, shortly before her sixteenth birthday, Brianna finally learned the identities of the other representatives - on the same day she was told she was one - she wasn't surprised to find that every UNSC permanent member had at an approved candidate. Typical.

They had some media events together, but they never really got to socialize. Each of them was always surrounded by their own tutors, personal trainers, therapists, bodyguards, government agents and god knows what else. They didn't get to speak to anyone - politicians did the talking - and the cameras never got too close. Still, it was interesting, seeing them for the first time. Except for Gabriel, who she already met. She was irrationally happy to see him among the chosen ones, as the representative for France. Sooner or later he'd have to notice her. It was inevitable.

Most of the representatives were older than Brianna, and some of the others looked positively unfriendly. The scowling Russian representative who stood beside her right now, Yury, had *six* bodyguards. Why? Even she only had one...

...didn't she? She looked around the park a touch nervously, wondering if the Secret Service had posted snipers in the trees. They probably had. That was the bare minimum anyone would expect from her government.

She didn't know what kind of briefing the others had been given, but hers had been pretty simple: "Just do what you're told. We'll take care of everything." Clearly they didn't put much stock into her personal abilities, despite all of her training. They gave her a tiny earbud... and a miniaturized transmitter to swallow, bigger than the earbud. It would, they assured her, stick to the lining of her stomach for the foreseeable future.

The others were a pretty diverse bunch, which was likely deliberate. Beyond Yury stood Philippa, a tall, thin British girl with freckles who looked as regal and condescending as a real lady. Next was Zixin, from China - also tall - who was relaxed in his t-shirt and shorts, smirking as if he knew a joke no one else did, followed by Caleb, a serious, black-haired Israeli guy about Brianna's age, and finally Hanami, the Japanese representative, who had a detached, faraway look the whole time.

To her other side was Diego, the only one of them who wouldn't stay still; he kept turning in every direction, smiling and waving at the crowd. Then Aisha, the Pakistani girl, who was younger than Brianna. She stood tall and stiff, with an uncertain smile that, Brianna imagined, wasn't too different from her own. She was followed by Kurt, a tall, pretty guy from Germany. At first Brianna had been confused that, with so much care given to the appearance of diversity, they had seven guys and five girls. It took her two weeks to notice that Kurt was a trans man. He'd likely transitioned later in the selection process, no doubt vexing and upsetting the OHAIC executives. Good. After two years studying history and international politics, Brianna had developed a healthy dislike for any and all career politicians.

Smiling, friendly Neuza, from Brazil, and wide-eyed Thulani, who seemed to be the youngest of the group, were at the far end, beyond an empty space where some people from the french delegation were losing their shit. Gabriel had yet to show up. What would happen if he didn't show? Would the Rocklings accept eleven representatives? Unlikely. They seemed to care a lot about their "Threes" and "Fours".

They didn't have to worry, though. Only a couple of minutes later a bulletproof car made its way down the street the cops were keeping unimpeded for just this sort of thing, its opaque glass no doubt frustrating the many smartphone cameras flashing at it. Out of the corner of her eye, Brianna saw Gabriel's shiny blond head peeking out for a moment before he and his bodyguard left the car and made their way to their spot. There were more photos, and everyone heaved a collective sigh of relief. Humankind hadn't fucked this up. Yet.

Blushing a little, Brianna broke her rigid pose to crane her neck and fully turn her head to the side, hoping to get a better look at Gabriel. Under the circumstances it should be fine, right? He'd been the one to make a spectacle of himself. Eating him up with her eyes wouldn't start any politically charged incident this close to the Moment They'd All Been Waiting For.

Then she did a double take. That... was *not* Gabriel.

She took a couple steps away from the line and turned to the french delegation. No one seemed to think anything was amiss. Had no one noticed? Should she say something? Or was this a deliberate ploy? The impostor did look *remarkably* alike Gabriel. They had similar height, the same hair color, the same eyes. Even the same cheekbones. But this wasn't the guy she had a killer crush on. This guy had narrower shoulders, a rounder jaw. He wore the same style of clothing, but they hung differently on his frame. And Gabriel's beautiful confident smile was absent, replaced by a seriousness. No, not a seriousness, a nervousness. This impostor was the only one here who displayed real worry.

Brianna waved discreetly to try and catch Diego's attention. They were all a few metres apart from each other, but Diego was so restless she soon caught his eye. "That's not Gabriel, right?" she asked quietly, enunciating clearly so he could read her lips.

"¿Qué?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. It was impossible any of her peers spoke less than excellent English after two years of training. "You heard me."

He stepped forward and turned to peer at the impostor, then turned back to her and shrugged, smiling apologetically. Maybe.... Maybe the others hadn't paid attention to Gabriel *quite* as much as Brianna.

She tried Yury next, but he didn't even acknowledge her. His bodyguards glared daggers at her. She was thinking of walking back to her people - or sending Kevin - to ask Caitriona and the others, but at that moment the sky turned pink. All the bodyguards and remaining staff quickly withdrew and joined the rest of their delegations, leaving Brianna alone with the other eleven representatives. Too late.

Adrenaline coursed through her body as all twelve massive Rocklings materialized in front of them, taking up the meadow. The US government had worked hard to prepare it, uprooting trees, razing buildings and moving historical landmarks away in an effort to create a large enough space for the most important moment in the history of humankind, but a couple of the Rocklings still chose to hover - effortlessly - above the trees. Cameras flashed continuously, capturing their arrival. They were so big. So *strange*. They were all different - some wider, some taller, some with differently patterned eyes - but even the smallest alien towered above the crowd, each of its four short, stubby legs many times the height of a person. Brianna looked up at the nearest Rockling's cuboid main body. Even from below, all she could see was the bumpy, textured, brown-green skin. There were no orifices at the bottom.

"Peace," it said in its strange, warm, human voice, and everyone in the crowd could hear it clearly. "We acknowledge the... gathering of humankind. No... conflict is taking place. These are the Three times Four?"

For a minute no one said anything. All the politicians watching from behind, all the powerful, the wealthy, the crowd of hundreds of thousands, possibly millions standing around the park, they were all quiet. Only the flashing of the smartphone cameras continued, unabated.

Brianna looked at the others. They were all exchanging glances, unsure of what to do. Yury crossed his arms and waited. Thulani gaped. Diego laughed nervously. Neuza opened her mouth, but only a little gasp came out.

Then Philippa took a step forward. "We are," she said. It made sense for her to speak - at the age of nineteen, Philippa was the eldest among them, after all. But Brianna doubted even their minders could hear their voices, much less the Rocklings. They hadn't been given megaphones. Perhaps whoever was listening in on the other side of her earbud? The others probably had something similar. Was Philippa speaking for the benefit of her government? Did they have some sort of plan? Despite all the learning, all the training, she felt so unprepared. Yet somehow she remained calm, as if she was visited by huge monsters from outer space every Tuesday afternoon.

"Where is your vessel?" Philippa asked. "We are ready to go."

"We acknowledge the Three times Four," another Rockling said in the same voice, and Brianna saw she needn't have worried. "We see their... minds. We see no coercion. They desire to embrace this future."

"We acknowledge the Three times Four," a third Rockling said. "We see their minds. We see..." It paused. Two of its eyes focused on the second Rockling. "...some fear. Some hesitation." It waved its arms at the others, touching their malleable ends with four other Rocklings at the same time. The others did the same, and Brianna couldn't help but chuckle. They looked like they were high-fiving each other. Diego, Neuza and Kurt also laughed.

"Within acceptable range," the Rockling finally said.

"Within acceptable range," another one confirmed.

"Within acceptable range," a third one echoed.

"Are we cleared for departure, then?" Zixin asked in perfect American English.

All the Rocklings went silent and still.

At first Brianna figured they were translating another response. But then the seconds stretched. Little by little, the crowd began to mutter again. At first their collective voices were a vibration, a droning in the back of her head. They became louder and louder, a terrible crescendo, building up to a brain-shattering noise. The sky might have turned pink, but it was still hot. She was sweating profusely, now.

An engine roared from behind. A black van, rushing down the lane at suicidal speed, escorted by four cops in motorcycles. It parked with a grating screech, narrowly missing a barrier.

Off to the far left, close to the japanese delegation, voices rose in anger. The crowd swelled and pushed against the dividers. The cops raised batons, pepper spray, tasers. Brianna braced for a confrontation. Maybe even a riot.

"Wait!" a familiar voice yelled from behind. "Stop!" Gabriel had jumped out of the van and was rushing into the meadow. The impostor standing between Kurt and Neuza had noticed, him, too. He tensed, pursed his lips, but stood his ground.

Suddenly a light - narrow beams of faint white light - shone from an indefinite point in the pink sky. One of them bathed Brianna, enveloping her body entirely. It felt... warm and tingly, like a mixture of electricity and heat. Her skin registered something coarse to the touch, even though there was nothing there. Her muscles spasmed.

Then the world was yanked away like a rug.

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