Charlene sauntered down the aisle between the tables, the biggest grin on her face. She’d done it. No one thought it possible, but she’d done it. Of course, she could hear the whispers, everyone dumbfounded and trying to figure it out.
Well, let them try; they’re never going to learn my secret.
She also knew that every man in the room, including Director Thompson, was positively drooling over her—which was understandable. After all, she was a bit of an oxymoron. At five-ten, she had long blond-brown hair, a great figure, a bust line that even other women took note of, but she was also a genius. Not your typical nerdy girl.
She reached Thompson, looked him in the eye, and smiled as he shook her hand. His hand was far too bony as far as she was concerned. The man was close to seventy. In her opinion, he should retire. Maybe she could push the board on the matter, once she returned in triumph.
“Dr. Hebron, congratulations. You have passed the most rigorous battery of tests, and you will be our goodwill ambassador to Planet Nitzan. Would you care to say a few words to the other candidates?”
She nodded and turned to them, all sitting at the long tables. “My friends, some of us are born to greatness; others have it thrust upon them. If any of you didn’t get that, now you understand why you didn’t get this assignment. In my case, I’d say I got it both ways. In conclusion, let me just say this: I am so out of here!”
Thompson chuckled and took her by the arm. “Most amusing, Dr. Hebron; your mastery of Nitzanian is outstanding. Now, if you’ll come with me, we’ll go over the details of your mission.”
“Of course, sir,” she said, and slid up next to him.
This was one of the delights in her life: torturing men with her body. She knew he wanted her. The hand on her bare elbow, the eyes lingering on her revealing cleavage and ass encased in her extra tight (and extra short) skirt, and his sniffing nose. He was drinking in her scent. She’d made a point of going extra heavy with the perfume today.
It only took a few minutes to reach his office, and they took seats facing each other over his ancient mahogany desk. Thompson was a traditionalist: he loved preserving artifacts from Earth’s ‘old days.’
She cast her eyes out the huge picture window behind him and saw her future: the sleek modern city of New Miami. The original had been torn apart by a super hurricane some years before, and the new one was just that—a city of today, and tomorrow.
“All right, Charlene, I won’t bore you with the details of the Nitzanians and their culture. That you aced the assessments means you know all that. So, here’s the full skinny on what you need to know. First off, you’re going to be there for a minimum of one year, as that’s the soonest an Earth ship can come back to the planet. You okay with that?”
“Oh, please, I can do that standing on my head. What else?”
“Okay, just checking, as some people chafe at being without human contact for that long. In the division, the scuttlebutt is that you go out on a date almost every night. Being deprived of ‘contact’ that long could be tough.”
“Director, my personal life is none of your business. So, butt out,” she snapped.
He held up a hand to her. “All right, my dear, all right. Keep in mind, I still have final say on you getting this assignment, so I’ll thank you to wag a civil tongue.”
“Yes, sir,” she grumbled. Oh brother. I hope I don’t have to sleep with him. Maybe just a quick blowjob will do it.
While she didn’t relish the prospect of sex with an old guy, she didn’t much mind. For her, sex was about control and manipulation. She used it to get what she wanted, nothing more. There was never any question of love or attachment; she simply dominated men and turned them into puppets. That was how she won this plum assignment, by using ‘Simple Little Simon,’ as she called him. In exchange for a few nights of bliss with her, he’d seen to it that she aced all portions of the test.
“Next, you’ll be expected to file weekly reports on your life there, and they need to be detailed. Your sub-ether Comm-Unit has a fusion power unit, so it’ll have plenty of juice for a long time.”
“Good. And I certainly understand about the reports, sir.”
“I can’t stress that point enough, Charlene. The Nitzanians are a truly enigmatic race; we know virtually nothing about them, and yet they initiated contact and just about begged us to send a representative to them, one person to represent all of Earth. They are incredibly desperate for human contact, and that means we have a golden opportunity here. In the past, treaties with new worlds have always been problematic—to say the least. You get this one in record time and you’re guaranteed a major promotion.”
Her beautifully plucked and formed eyebrows shot up. “Really? Would I be able to choose my next assignment?”
“You got it,” he said simply.
“Consider it done,” she said, rising to her feet. “So, we finished here?”
He nodded. “Yes. Now, the shuttle departs in two days to get you to the launch platform in orbit. You have that long to set your affairs in order and say your goodbyes. Good luck to you, my dear.”
He again shook her hand, and then she headed home. She was glad sex had been unnecessary.
The settling of her affairs was easy enough. Charlene had no boyfriend or close friends to say goodbye to, and she’d been estranged from her parents for years. So she visited with her siblings, sold most of her things, packed her bags, and enjoyed screwing around until the shuttle launch.
The ship taking her to Nitzan was an old Class-J cargo carrier, which meant its amenities were the bare minimum, but it was the only ship going to that sector. That meant her initial cabin sucked, but a quick roll in the sheets with the captain changed that.
A week later, after a long journey through hyperspace, they were in orbit around Nitzan. It was a dazzling ringed world with a small moon. As they cruised lazily about, Charlene stood at one of the observation windows on the port side. The various space lanes were crammed with traffic; ships of all sizes and shapes encircled the planet and even the communication satellites were things of beauty. They seemed to form a delicate necklace about Nitzan.
Once she checked out with the captain, a shuttle transported her down to the main spaceport terminal, a gleaming spiral of metal and Plexiglas. The shuttle settled gently onto the landing pad, Charlene got to her feet, and the door released. There was a slight hiss as it de-pressurized, then it swung open, and she stepped out onto the open deck.
She immediately gagged and her eyes watered. Charlene knew this was normal; the aromas of a new world tended to overwhelm the senses. She took a moment to catch her breath, and then bounced slightly on her toes. Gravity was 0.9 of Earth, so she felt a bit lighter.
Hey, bet I’ll weigh less here. How about that: instant diet.
The shuttle hummed and she squirmed, its ion drive making her skin tingle. She turned and waved to the crew as it lifted into the gentle clouds above. Charlene chewed her lip. There was no welcoming party. What was she supposed to do? As if reading her mind, small glowing triangles appeared on the deck before her, directing her toward a large elevator. It was sort of obvious what was expected of her, so—adjusting her backpack—she moved through the door, and down the elevator went. When the door opened, she was presented with a large lab of some sort.
She was surprised by the two men who greeted her. One was a typical Nitzanian: four arms, three legs (in a sort of tripod arrangement), long snake-like body, and eyes like a fly. The other one looked almost human! The one feature they shared was height; they had to be close to eight feet tall.
“Greetings, Char-lene,” the alien one said, holding a computer pad. “I am Dr. Batu, and this is Dr. Duha. We are gratified to meet you. This is our New Arrivals Med-Lab for examination and decontamination. Please to remove garments so we may do so.”
Charlene clutched at her shirt. Getting naked for sex and to manipulate men was one thing. She’d always had a thing about doing it in front of people she considered her equals or strangers.
“What? Can’t you do a simple scan?”
Duha shook his head. “Neg, we cannot use our bio-scanner as your tissue density is different from ours. So, please to comply.”
She groaned and blushed, and slowly shed her blouse and snug skirt, and then her underwear.
Lying on the clear exam table felt like she was floating on air. The men poked and prodded her a bit, took blood and tissue samples, and then Duha held a small device to his head. Charlene let out a squeak of surprise as the table shimmered and vibrated under her. As she tried to sit up, she saw it change into an almost liquid form, then begin reshaping to allow for a gynecological exam and then solidify. Her legs were secured and spread wide, and bands slid across her chest to hold her in place.
“Hey, wait a minute, what’s going on?” she complained.
“Initial scan indicates the presence of foreign genetic material in your vagina and anus,” Duha explained, stepping between her legs. “We must investigate.”
“That’s ridiculous, I—oh!”
She froze as she realized he was right. She’d had sex with multiple partners right before leaving the ship. His instruments were like his hands: long and probing. Several cold metal objects slid inside her, spreading her labia wide. His fingers entered her, brushing over her clitoris and poking at her g-spot. She gasped and felt sweat on her forehead. His hands withdrew, she groaned in disappointment, and he placed a sample on a small device next to him. It hummed and beeped, and a hologram of a DNA molecule appeared above it.
“Hmmm, male reproductive material,” Duha said casually. “Nothing harmful, but we’ll cleanse you to be sure.”
Charlene’s eyebrows shot up. “Cleanse?”
Her head whipped around to watch as the two mixed a solution, and her mind raced as she tried to understand what he was talking about. Then it came to her and she let out a squeak. She wiggled and curled her toes, dreading what was to come, but didn’t see any way of stopping it.
Duha came back between her legs, a small teardrop-shaped object in his hand. He thrust it into her, and gave her a very thorough douche. The warm solution filled her, as did her feelings of pure embarrassment. Then there was something else—sexual energy. Charlene was amazed; she was growing excited from something totally humiliating. She squirmed and squealed, and then yelped as he locked some sort of sealing bandage over her pussy.
The table changed shape again; she felt as if she were inside a tire and it was turning, and in a moment she found herself rolled over onto her stomach. The table flipped up, and she was then head down, bottom up, and her arms were clamped to her sides. Duha lifted up a device she didn’t recognize, but it sort of looked like a medical device she’d seen once before that had been used for a colonoscopy.
Charlene gasped. “Whoa, hold it. Guys, you don’t need to use that. I can explain about my… anus. Oh!”
Duha wiped some sort of lotion between her cheeks. It was cold, and he then inserted the tip of that large and long probe deep into her anus. Charlene moaned, which surprised her again. She was suddenly glad her pussy was covered, as she felt sure she’d be wet already. The tube slid along, giving her a feeling of fullness.
She grimaced and whined. “Guys, pleeease, I don’t have to be… examined like this. It’s no big deal.”
They ignored her. Her butt muscles twitched and flexed, the probe going deeper. She bit her lip to keep from moaning louder. The probe was like a large cock, and it was driving her wild with sexual energy and also embarrassing her beyond belief.
“Ah, sample located,” Duha said.
“Excellent,” Batu replied. “Hold the probe steady and I will analyze.”
“Guys, it’s nothing. Please, get that thing out of me!”
“Char-lene, we must ensure you do not bring deadly toxins onto our planet,” Batu explained. “Ah, male reproductive material again.”
“That seems odd,” Duha said. “The anus is not the reproductive access point. How…? Ah, some sort of internal leakage from the vagina. Oh, that would indicate a laceration of the vaginal wall!”
“Neg, this material is not from the same male. The DNA sequence is different.”
Duha looked at the hologram of the new strand, hovering above the scanner, and nodded. “Ah, yes. Very well, a simple cleansing will be sufficient.”
Charlene strained her neck to see what they were doing. The scanner was next to her, so she could see that, but the men were behind her. “Wait a minute; I do not need an enema or anything like that. I’m perfectly all right. Let me up now, and let me get rid of this—oh!”
It appeared that their anal device had multiple functions. Not only could it probe her, it was able to flood her colon with a massive enema. Charlene squealed and strained against her restraints. She begged and threatened, but it was all for naught. They not only filled her with a huge enema, they also placed a locking butt plug in her, and only then released her. Standing before them, she groaned, her hands rubbing her lower belly. She felt full and bloated.
What happened next truly surprised her: the two slipped off their clothes and dropped them in an opening in the floor. With a flash, the clothes were disintegrated. Each of them took one of her hands in theirs and they headed toward a round doorway that had appeared in the far wall.
“We will now go through the Decon Shower together,” Duha explained.
Her brow wrinkled. “Together? Why do you need to do it?”
“We have been exposed to you,” Batu said. “Stand with your feet apart and hands raised.”
She did so, the floor slowly moving forward, and they were bathed in multicolored beams. Standing there, discomfort rippling through her, she got to see their full anatomy. Again she was amazed. Batu’s genitals were a long retractable tentacle hanging below a small opening. From her anatomy lesson, she remembered that the Nitzanians passed eggs, sperm, and a nutrient mix to each other, and then both gestated the young. They were essentially an androgynous race, except that only the females had large milk-producing breasts. What surprised her was Duha—not only did he outwardly look human, but his package most definitely did!
What the hell is going on with this world? How can the Nitzanians be so different? How can some of them look so human?
A moment later, they emerged into a large room, glistening and bright—and full of people. Charlene squeaked and squirmed, covering herself as best she could. The crowd, both types of Nitzanians, stood behind a laser barrier, and Batu and Duha moved to it and gave their report. Standing there, both naked, they relayed every intimate detail about her. It appeared some of the people were the equivalent of news reporters and others were government officials.
“Why is her head becoming red?” someone said, pointing at her with their two right arms.
Duha turned. “Ah, that is the human blush response; it is as a result of… um, I don’t recall. I will consult the med database and get back to you. For now, Qwin, come and let me introduce you, and then you two can depart.”
Charlene moved behind a small table—it afforded her the only cover possible—and watched as the barrier was switched off and a truly gorgeous hunk of a regular man stepped forward. She felt a tingle go down her spine and deep into her core. He was close to eight feet tall, golden hair, and his shirt and pants made it clear that he was quite buffed.
My God, what a bod!
He stood over her, smiled, and extended his hand to her. “I have pleasure at meeting you, Char-lene. I am Qwin, one of the foremost scientists and experts on alien cultures for my people. I trust your time with me will be pleasant.”
“It sure won’t be dull,” Batu snickered. “Eh, ‘Captain Kirk’?”
Qwin frowned. “Ignore this… traditionalist. Come, my transport is outside.”
“What about clothes?” Charlene whined. “And my… the stuff they filled me with? I need to… get rid of it!”
Qwin looked confused. “You require garments to travel?”
“I require them in front of other people,” she snapped. “Sheesh, are your people all nudists?”
“We are at peace with our bodies,” he replied, confusion in his voice. “How do you not know this? We were told you were Earth’s foremost expert on our world.”
“Oh, um… I… forgot.”
“Very well, I shall create some for you while Duha helps you.”
Qwin moved to a small shelf and picked up what looked like a gleaming metal squirt gun. Duha picked up Charlene—she felt about twelve in his arms—and placed her on the table to remove her plugs. She was then able to sit on the relief station and an opaque barrier lowered next to her. It was only a modicum of privacy, but at least it was something. Once done and cleaned up, she stepped out—just in time for Qwin to ‘shoot’ her.
“What the hell are you doing?” she screamed, recoiling and covering herself with her hands.
“Dressing you,” he said, again confused. “Were you not informed as to our method of producing garments?”
Settling down, she meekly nodded. “Oh—ah—yes, sorry.”
“Accepted. Now, please stand, legs apart slightly, arms out,” he replied.
She did so, he covered her with a white slimy ooze, and then she watched as it shifted and changed, rippling across her body. It tickled, and she squirmed and giggled. A minute later, it was solid and she had a pleasant—if juvenile—outfit on. The pink and white shorts went well with the white t-shirt, which had some sort of geometric pattern on the front. It sort of looked like a mixed-up Rubik’s cube.
“What the hell kind of clothes are these?” she said.
Qwin shrugged. “I have regrets, but the device is programmed for us. Given your size, it believes you to be a teenager, and dressed you accordingly. Technically, by Nitzanian standards, at twenty-six, you are an early teenager. Our year is close to twice yours.”
“I see,” she said, frowning. “Well, we’ll have to work on the wardrobe then.”
“Accepted. Now, let me introduce you to my people.”
Taking her hand, they moved to the barrier. A portion of the floor rose so that she was at their level, and she met the press and officials. Introductions followed, then questions, and then it was decided to let Qwin take her home to settle in. She had a ton of questions herself, but decided to hold off on them until a more opportune time. After all, she’d already displayed ignorance on a number of things she should have known had she really studied about the planet. The last thing she needed was to make a major diplomatic blunder right there in front of the media during her first press conference.
One thing they did settle on was her name. They would call her Charlie as her name was hard for them to pronounce. It added to her embarrassment as that was what she had been called as a little girl. The topper to the event was when they told her that she’d been declared a ‘limited adult,’ as she was the size and age of a teenager. This meant she was essentially Qwin’s ward, and she did not have the same rights as an adult.
Finally done, she sat next to Qwin as they flew across the open sky in his hovercar. He’d raised the seat so that she could see over the edge. The city was awe-inspiring! It made her think of the adobe villages of the American Midwest, but these buildings were gleaming and new, and it was clear the community had been built to live in harmony with the natural environment.
“Our world gives you pleasure?”
She nodded. “Very much so. It’s beyond beautiful.”
“I am gratified.”
“Um, Qwin, question, why did Batu refer to you as ‘Captain Kirk’? That’s an ancient Earth reference.”
His ears and nose took on a bluish hue, and she remembered learning that was how they blushed. “Oh, ah, well, my friends call me that because I have a reputation for… seducing every alien female I meet.”
“Ah, okay, well… that’s… interesting.”
He smiled. “It is a gross overstatement, I assure you.”
“Uh-huh,” she replied, deadpan. “Well, I can assure you, not going to happen.”
“Accepted,” he said with a laugh. “However, I hope we can at least be friends. My people have a great desire to know more of your world and race.”
“Speaking of race-s, how is it some of you look so… well, human?”
“Ah, there is a reason for that. Long ago, we received our first transmissions from Earth, and many of our people were fascinated by humans. They thought they were lovely, and some people decided to reshape their bodies to be more like humans. Over the years this has resulted in two types of Nitzanians: humanists and traditionalists, and they often don’t get along. The main reason we’ve made contact with Earth and had you visit is that the humanists want to take things to the next level: learning human emotions and feelings. However, the traditionalists are very much against this, and thus a compromise was reached: one human would visit and teach us about Earth and its culture, as we know our knowledge is incomplete from only seeing transmissions. How well the visit goes will determine if Nitzan establishes formal relations with Earth.”
They want to know about emotions and being human? Shit, this assignment just got veryyyyy interesting. I don’t know that I’m prepared to talk about that kind of stuff. Huh, now isn’t that a hoot? I can screw my brains out with a bunch of guys, but I can’t talk about intimacy. Oh, well, guess we’ll… burn that bridge when we get to it.