Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mind Control, Heterosexual, Science Fiction, Extra Sensory Perception, Paranormal, Harem, Interracial, Black Female, White Male, White Female, Oriental Female,
Desc: Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Victor is given a special gift--and an important mission--after rescuing an escaping alien.
Victor was sitting in his room, transferring some old tapes to DVD on his laptop. He'd heard there were faster ways than hooking up his VCR to it and playing it while the software he'd downloaded did its thing, but he just didn't have the equipment. No matter, it gave him the time to enjoy fond memories dredged up by the programs. The tape he was working on was an old one ... an original broadcast of several episodes of the anime TV show Gatchaman from international television. His mom had brought this tape and the other one that came with it down from Syracuse as a souvenir from Aunt Aileen. The tapes were still in the original Japanese, the only editing being that Aileen pressed "pause" during the commercial breaks. There were two other anime on this tape other than Gatchaman. There was an episode of an anime called "Iczer-1" which, while a little confusing to non-Japanese-speaking types like Victor, involved his favorite kind of anime action: Mecha combat, or giant robots. Victor was glad the Japanese weren't as shy about nudity as Americans were as he watched the scene with blue-haired Nagisa in the shower, and again as he watched the mecha-combat scene where she was naked in some kind of fluid, tubes or wires or something sticking into her flesh to help her control the mecha-functions which were her responsibility. Her tiny, pink nipples were barely discernible on the tiny screen of Victor's laptop, but they were there.
A crash in the living room brought Victor's attention back to the real world. Cautiously he moved to investigate. An orange body next to the window caught his attention. It was unarmed, wearing only what appeared to be a pair of blue briefs. It was well-muscled, not quite "Ah-nuld" but far from the skinny greys he'd heard about on the Roswell documentaries. It was definitely alien. Its overlarge head raised off the floor and it tried to crawl away. It was bleeding from a wound in its leg. Victor bound the wound using the left sleeve of his shirt.
"I say, a little help with the inhibitor on my neck would be appreciated." the alien said.
"Um, okay." Victor said, examining the device the alien indicated. It was roughly the shape of a chocolate candy like the kind he used to eat when he was little--round from the top, with the top narrower than the bottom. There was a seam along the top he could pry open with the right tools. "There's a toolbox in the bathroom if you think you can make it."
"Help me up." the alien said. Victor complied, lifting the muscular being, putting one of the alien's arms around his shoulder. The alien's wounded leg left a neon-green trail as they made their way to the bathroom. Victor put the toilet seat down and seated him there.
"Sorry about the smell." Victor said as he opened the cabinet under the sink, pulling out the little black toolbox.
"It is to be expected." the alien said, covering the nostril slits near the top of his head. "This is a lavatory facility, yes?"
"Among other things." Victor replied, retrieving a blade screwdriver. "Now lean forward, I need to pry that thing open." The alien complied, and the young man opened the inhibitor. Inside he found two wires which looped up from the etched circuitry. His first impulse was to rip them out, but then he noticed the tiny button, small enough that a pin would be needed to activate it. "Button or wires?" he asked.
"I see a tiny button about the size of a pinhead, and two wires. It could be rigged to explode if we pull out the wires."
"For all we know it could be rigged to explode if we press the button."
"Right. Okay, if you believe an any form of deity, pray to him or her now." Victor said, wedging the screwdriver under the wires. With a yank and a couple of sparks, they were gone.
"I say, that's ever so much better!" he said. He unbound the wound, and it began to close. Then the inhibitor detached itself from the back of his neck, and that wound too began to close.
"My tax dollars at work." Victor sighed. "I wish they'd spend as much money on healthcare as they probably do for extraterrestrial containment."
"Our studies have shown you to be rather wasteful." the alien said.
"No arguement there. I could give you statistics on that. We've got a long way to go before most races will think of us as anything other than a savage, pathetic child-race." The alien laughed.
"Self-honesty? Quite refreshing."
"I call it realism." Victor said. "We're still using nonrenewable resources and fossil fuels, so we must be millennia behind you."
"The first step to solving a problem is the admission that there is one." the alien said with a smile. "You are wise for a human."
"So what do I call you, anyway?"
"The names my people use are inpronouncible with your vocal and resonating structures." the alien replied. "The only syllable of mine which you could possibly emulate is the final one: Zak."
"I'm Victor. So, Zak, what do we do now?"
"I require a temporary refuge while your planet's extraterrestrial containment team searches the local area." Zak said.
"I've got an extra bedroom." Victor offered. "It's an interior room, so there's no windows for anyone to peek in through."
"This house was designed to be as energy-efficient as we know how to make." Victor said. "So heat shouldn't be escaping for your hunters to detect through the walls. And I had each room soundproofed last year because my brother decided he wanted to bring his girlfriends over while he was in town."
"Ah." Zak replied. "It should suffice, I suppose."
Victor came home from work hearing the sounds of Julia Ecklar's "Born Again Trek" emanating from the speakers of his large sound system.
"I see you found my audio cassettes." he said.
"Indeed." Zak replied, gesturing to two piles of tapes on the table beside him. "This is a facet of human culture we have not seen. Our preliminary team recorded a vast quantity of music from your broadcasts, but never before have these--I believe you call them 'songs'--been documented, although their labels indicate that some of them are two and three decades old."
"I don't think those songs have ever been broadcast." Victor said as he glanced over the tapes. "Freedom, Flight & Fantasy," "Quarks & Quests," "Heralds, Harpers & Havoc," "Space Heroes & Other Fools," "Genesis" and the empty case of "Walkabout" occupied the table. "Those aren't what you'd call mainstream music. I purchase them at science fiction conventions. Sometimes I think our fantasies are as telling as our history."
"Indeed." Zak replied. "You are very wise for a human. Perhaps I should send those idiot humans who captured me a fruit basket for allowing me to escape and find you." Victor chuckled.
"How is it you speak English, anyway?"
"My people can understand any written or spoken language." Zak said. "Simple ones like yours can be spoken with a modicam of ease."
"Interesting." Victor said.
"I've made contact with my people." the alien continued. "A covert-observation team is diverting to evacuate me. Their cloaking device will prevent their being detected."
"Cool." Victor said. "When will they be here?"
"Tomorrow, when this continent is halfway through the nocturnal portion of its cycle." Zak said. Victor went to his laptop and began copying disks. "What are you doing?" Zak asked.
"You were supposed to learn about us, right?" Victor remarked. "I don't want to send you back to your people empty-handed." He slid copies of the DVDs he'd been transferring into the sleeves of a zippered binder. He added some CDs he had made of his old audio tapes and a couple containing scans of pretty much every American comic ever made (part of a city-wide cooperation by the town's comic nerds) and a great many Japanese manga. To this he added a copy of Encarta Encyclopedia which had come with his new computer, but he didn't need because it was the same version he had on his laptop. His eyes fell upon his personal music collection and he began copying it to his remaining blank CDs. Four albums of "Weird Al" Yankovic, two of jazz, three classical, two hip-hop and two rock. He slid his extra copy of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Premier Collection into the final empty space and zipped up the binder. "This should serve as a primer." he muttered. "We'd best pack up some things in case we have to leave on short notice."
"Wise." Zak admitted. "There is what you call a 'cold front' approaching from the northeast, according to your meteorologists."
"Been watching a little TV, have you?" Victor teased.
"I am many things, human, but not a slacker." Zak replied. "I also made use of your internet connection. I learned a few things about you via your favorites."
"Oh, dear." Victor sighed. Zak chuckled.
"You are a socially vigilant intellectual who remains mindful of the grand scheme while doing your best in your small dominion to effect changes and inciting others to do the same." Zak said, much to Victor's relief. Then the alien continued. "While your taste in women is varied, your preference seems to be for those from the region of your planet known as Asia. You apparently are as strongly aroused by the sight of an artistic rendering of a female form as by an actual photographic image of one." Victor was blushing now. "You are also an imaginative and creative person who prefers his chosen mates to show their devotion to him by permitting him to make use of the psychological backdoor you humans call 'hypnosis' to subvert their decision-making faculties to your own. Despite your grasping of concepts we originally felt were too advanced for your culture, you are still subject to the primordial urge to spread your seed by impregnating several different females simultaneously, despite your species's conscious attempts to self-evolve into a monogamous society. You are, however, mindful of the several overt disadvantages to the polygamous lifestyle, chief among them being that the females must be provided for, secondary that they still require sexual satisfaction even if you are busy with another, and third that in order to ensure that the children they bear are indeed your own you must ensure that you are the only male they desire. Your literary solutions to these problems are, shall I say, fascinating. The hypnosis phenomenon alone bears further investigation--sadly, this must be done by another body, for I am to be taking an extended vacation from this planet to recover from my traumas here."
"You got all that just by reading a few websites?"
"I am a scientist, after all. Analytical thinking is my job." Zak accepted the binder. "You have been most helpful, Victor. I have learned more in the past twelve hours than our species has learned in twelve of your years."
"Anything for science, right?"
"Indeed." Zak replied, chuckling.
"You have been very helpful, Victor." Zak said. "I cannot, in terms you can understand, sufficiently express my gratitude to you not only for your rescue but also for the boon you have presented to our understanding of your planet and the myriad cultures here."
"You don't need to." Victor said.
"I think I do." Zak replied. "In fact, I think I've hit upon a way." He reached out his hand, and as Victor moved to take it, Zak evaded Victor's grasp and touched the young man's forehead.
The next thing Victor knew, he was lying in bed, groaning as someone pounded on the door, and Scooby Two, his Great Dane, barked menacingly. Glaring at the clock which blared 4:21 am, he threw back the covers and went to the door in his boxers, grabbing his shotgun on the way. Unlocking the door but not the nightchain, he kept his weapon out of sight as he peered out at the invader.
"Do you have any idea what time it is?" he asked.
"My apologies, Mr. Phillips, but I was wondering if you'd mind answering a few questions." Suddenly, Victor's head and eyes cleared. He saw this man for what he truly was.
"No, I don't think I'll be answering your questions this morning, Colonel Stone, and you can drop the F.B.I. bullshit because I know who you are, so beat it before I turn your face into hamburger and let the dog out!" Frightened not only of the implicit threat to his person but also that his cover was blown, he departed, jumping the fence rather than waste time opening the gate. "I need a taller fence." he muttered.
Breaker one-nine, this is Zak, ya got yer ears on, good buddy? a voice in his head asked.
"What the fuck?" Victor shrilled, glancing about the room. "Zak?"
Ten-four. the voice continued.
"I don't own a C.B." Victor realized. "You're contacting me telepathically."
And failing in my attempts at Earth humor as well, it seems. Zak replied with a psychic sigh.
"Where are you?"
Millions of miles from where you are, but psychic transmission transcends distance.
"So what's up? If you were planning on warning me of Colonel Stone's visit, you're a little late, though I'm blanking on how I knew his name."
As is he. Zak replied merrily.
"Can you transmit visually?" Victor asked.
If you wish. Zak's image winked into existence in Victor's Lay-Z-Boy. "Better?"
"At least I don't feel like I'm talking to myself."
"This would be a problem?"
"Talking to one'sself makes other humans think you're crazy."
"You realize you needn't speak to me aloud." Zak remarked. "Merely thinking will suffice."
So what's going on here anyway? Victor asked.
"The only way I could truly thank you for all you've done was to evolve you a bit." Zak replied. "You show great promise, Victor Phillips--so much that I was easily able to persuade the crew to allow me to proceed. You see, there are a certain number among you humans who, like yourself, are able to see the 'big picture' as you choose to term it. Not only that, but you have the sense to use what you've been given responsibly. Unfortunately, people like you are in the minority, and your numbers are decreasing. This must change. You have been given a vast, genetic improvement, the least of which is an array of psychokinetic and extrasensory abilities you will learn to develop in time. You are immune to disease, and your body will regenerate itself almost instantly from nearly any injury, so long as inhibitors are not placed on your person. The very existence of those inhibitors indicates a vast expanse of techincal prowess on the part of the covert sector of your government, so deeply hidden that even your Internet has not uncovered them. You also have the ability to comprehend any written or spoken language. Your mathmatical abilities have been enhanced exponentially. You also have the ability to affect machines in ways unimagined even by the writers of that wonderful Transformers comic you included in the primer, for which I thank you very much, by the way. And what I've just told you is a mere drop in the proverbial bucket. However, I will leave you now to absorb the implications of what you've already learned." With that, the image rose from the chair and shimmered out of existence as if beamed away. The special effect was most likely a way to assure him he was psychically absent from the room.
Victor's head hurt. Trying to assimilate too much too fast could do that to a person. He took a breath to clear his mind and regain his footing. He realized he had to go to the bathroom. Walking at a brisk clip, he managed to get his pants down and get himself on the toilet before the pain got to be too much to bear.
The fist thing he noticed after he had relieved himself was that his penis was noticeably bigger. He had been six inches in size and maybe a third that in circumference the night before meeting Zak. Now his morning erection levitated proudly at nine inches in length and thicker now than he could encircle with his hand.
Another of your gifts, Zak? he thought.
"As a matter of fact, yes." Zak's voice said, and an image of a hand and arm waving from behind his door appeared. Well, at least he was being polite. Victor wiped his backside and pulled up his pants, and only then did Zak's image fully emerge.
"What do you expect me to do now, Zak?" he asked. "Take on the government? Expose the conspiracy?"
"If that were all you were needed for, dear boy, I wouldn't have bothered with the genetalia. No, it will be quite a few generations before you're ready to blow the lid off that particular cesspool, though if you're wily you may be around to see it. You see, your lifespan is noticeably extended due to the healing capabilities. I myself am four hundred years old, though natural causes will do me in before I reach nine hundred. Nobody can hold back the clock forever. I am at peace with this."
"I was at peace with my mere seven or eight decades." Victor remarked.
"I see that you were. However, this will allow you to achieve the numbers we need. I'll guide you in the discovery of your new powers if you wish, but I must ask a favor of you."
"Somehow I thought there was going to be a catch." Victor remarked. "What is it?"
"At present, you have no plans to procreate." Zak said. "To quote your thoughts, 'kids would only cramp my style.' However, I need you to breed. Breed like an illegal immigrant on welfare, and teach your children to be just like you. Then, they will breed and teach, and their children will breed and teach, and social watchdogs like yourself will be posessed of superior genes, and come to dominate the world with common sense. I also need you to find others like yourself and evolve them. I will show you how to do that when you have mastered your other talents. Shall we schedule your first training session for tomorrow evening after work?"
"Fine. You've got a deal." Victor said. Zak smiled.
"I know it sounds like a lot of work, but there's fun in the bargain, too, my friend."