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In recent years, the trend for alien themed vibrators had taken off.

Nell had followed the trend, certain it would be the way to conquer her revulsion to aliens. If she got a few vibrators shaped like alien penises, it could break her phobia, and everything would be great.

She lifted the green one with its realistic looking scales. She was not in the mood for that tonight.

Nell chose one that was more human-like but changed colors when activated. This was based on a Forka’s penis. Her colleague Ivy had told her all about the astonishing color changing abilities of her mate’s penis.

She shook her head. It looked too much like a child’s toy with all the flashing and blinking action.

Her fingers skimmed over a double-headed vibrator. Aliens with two penises, talk about greedy. How many holes did you want to fill at one time? No, that was not what she needed.

She left the drawer open and flopped back on the bed. Nell unzipped her jumpsuit and shrugged it down to her thighs. She stared up at the ceiling. All she wanted was relief. She needed to stop overthinking every move she made until she was exhausted. There had to be a solution to her problem.

“I guess it’s lucky dip time tonight.” She closed her eyes and groped into the drawer of vibrators. She didn’t look at what she pulled out, just made sure she wasn’t getting the double ended one. She placed the vibrator against her thigh and switched it on.

The vibrations were pleasant, but her head wasn’t in the game. She could probably lie there for hours and be gently shaken, and still, nothing would pop. It was as if she’d switched something off in her head. Every time she tried to get horny about aliens, she turned into a cold fish who wanted to cross her legs.

Her therapist, the one she’d fired, had told her it was normal. It was to be expected. Trauma made people behave in a cosseting way, ensuring they were safe from all possible future harm.

Nell had always been happy not to take dumb risks. The one thing she couldn’t have protected herself against was being abducted by aliens five years ago. You read about it in those ridiculous magazines they used to stock in newsagents. I was taken by little green men and probed for a month—best sex ever. I had my alien husband’s baby. My lover is the man from Mars.

The first therapist she’d gone to—and Nell was on her fifth—and revealed what had happened to her, hadn’t believed her story. Instead, she’d suggested a childhood trauma wrapped up in a fantasy of alien abduction.

That was bull. Nell’s childhood had been decent. Her parents worked hard and made sure she had a happy life. This wasn’t about some creepy uncle making her sit on his knee. This was about real life, huge, intimidating mother-loving aliens whisking her away without her consent.

Nell wasn’t crazy. Yet, despite the aliens being holier than hell real, many weren’t willing to believe she’d been taken. They couldn’t believe aliens had snuck to Earth, pinched a few humans to have fun with, and returned them disorientated and thinking they were losing their mind.

“This is ridiculous.” Nell switched off the vibrator and chucked it in the drawer. She shrugged back into her jumpsuit and slammed the drawer shut with her foot.

She stomped back into the living room, grabbed her tablet, and did an image search for hot aliens.

Thousands of images popped up. There were gorgeous aliens out there. Her boss, Vegas, had bagged herself a Galaxar. Solan was admired wherever he went for his strength and muscles. On the surface, Nell agreed he was a good-looking alien, but he was still an alien. Maybe it was a Galaxar who had probed her.

All her friends were getting hooked up with aliens. Heather had her one-horned mate. Poison Ivy was happily shacked up with a Forka, and they had the most adorable baby together. Even quirky, role-play obsessed Avril had found love with a Mehab so foulmouthed he even made Diadora wince. None of them were freaked out by the fact their lovers were aliens.

Nell paused as images of an Olickie came onto her screen, just like the one she’d discovered naked and smeared in paint, creating those incredible scenes that had once existed on Earth.

These were aliens to lust over if she was ever able to stir that feeling inside her. They were beautiful, averaging about seven feet tall. They came with a neck frill that expanded in a showy display when they were angry or aroused. They had solid, muscular bodies, and narrow hips. They weren’t warriors, not like Vegas’s mate. They were diplomats.

Their ability fascinated Nell. It was their voices or, rather, the way they used them. Think about the sexiest, most gravelly, calming male voice you’ve ever heard. Every single Olickie had that voice. It was like music. It calmed everybody. It disarmed fights and ensured the success of diplomatic negotiations. Olickies were the masters of diplomacy.

It wasn’t even a trick. It was the intonation in their voices. The particular resonance that they spoke at had an almost hypnotic quality. And when they added a hum behind those words, it was like cosmic magic.

This trick had alarmed the hell out of Earth’s leaders when they’d first encountered Olickies and found themselves agreeing to every single term they put down.

Fortunately for Earth, Olickies weren’t a spiteful or deceitful race. They’d revealed their ability and given Earth’s leaders forty-eight hours to consider their proposals, without the influence of an Olickie being in their presence.

Nell flicked through some more images. Olickies were okay. Rane had seemed okay. Not too pushy and oddly curious about Earth and her impressions of it.

Then he’d ruined everything by humming and trying to influence what she did.

Nell didn’t trust Olickies. What if one spoke to her and suggested all sorts of nefarious things in her ear? She’d have to agree because she had no choice.

She shouldn’t be so naïve as to assume they were innocent. Maybe these aliens were the ones who took her. She had no clear memories of what had happened or how she’d received the dozens of pinprick marks all over her body. Those were the only evidence she had that she’d been taken and studied against her will. Those and her deep, abject disgust of aliens.

When she’d first seen those marks, Nell had panicked and convinced herself that alien babies would burst out of her skin. That she’d been impregnated by some sly race, and they were using her as a walking incubator.

Nothing like that happened, and no alien babies appeared. But she’d spent a fretful few months checking to see if there were any changes to those marks.