Fortunately for me, the rumors about Area 51 are true. We have alien technology and I have the privilege of being one of the few scientists that gets to analyse the fantastic devices found in the wreckage of the alien crash. Everything is as hush-hush as you could imagine which causes my life to be under incredible scrutiny. This has been a very big problem for me because I am a lesbian with a ravenous sexual appetite. And if even a hint of my sexuality leaked out, I'd be booted off of the program (or worse).
Until recently, I'd been forced to depend upon the mundane technology of a vibrator in my cunt to keep my passions from driving me over the edge. And even so, years of having my craving unsatisfied has left me a sexual predator. And this week I'm going to try to use some alien technology to satisfy my cravings.
Mostly, the devices were smashed in the crash. We've been unable to figure out how to work almost all of the undamaged things. The few things we've gotten working have been useless to us -- until now. Just this week I finally managed to master one of the alien devices.
The device is like an exoskeleton. It looks like a second skin, but the suit acts like a second set of muscles -- hugely powerful muscles. The suit is controlled by a cap. The wearer of the cap is mentally linked to the cap and can control the movements of the suit – even if someone else is wearing it.
The suit is dark gray and covers the entire body except for the head, the crotch and the breasts. To work properly, the suit needs direct contact with the skin. Any folds in the skin or extra clothing weaken control of the suit -- hence the holes in the crotch and chest. Because the suit is so tight, it's a bitch to get on. You have to simultaneously slide the top and bottom half of your naked body into the crotch hole.
It always takes me a half hour until I can finally get each finger into their individual holes in the suit. Only then can I pop my head out and slide my tits into their hole. Then for the next fifteen minutes I watch my cunt and asshole in the mirror as I wriggle my legs into the bottom half of the suit. By the time I've finished, I'm wet from both the exertion and from the ache in my pussy. Today was different, though. My urges were going to be satisfied tonight. I'd arranged it. I threw a long coat over the suit and left the room.
I'd never sneaked off the base before. Without the suit, it would have been impossible. With the suit, it was easy. I left via the hanger. All the buildings in the ultra-secure area are well guarded, but no one felt the need to watch the windows high up on the side of the hanger. With the suit, I could simply pull my self up the side of the hanger by grabbing on to the vertical beams and down the other side the same way. The hangar acts as a fence in that part of the compound. Once I got out of the super-high security area, I just left the base via the front gate using my badge.
- - - - - - - - - -
I had been to Las Vegas the week before at a conference. I was in the bar (no doubt under surveillance) having a drink by myself when I met her. As soon as I saw her, I wanted her. She was gorgeous. Blond, six feet tall, huge tits and a bitchy, bitchy attitude. When I saw her, my mind leapt to a solution. I'd use the suit to get her. She wouldn't stand a chance.
I'd introduced myself as a photographer for a fantasy (i.e. comics) magazine. We were looking for the perfect model to pose as a superhero. It was a good paying job and I'd pay her $500 for "trying out" when I was to be in town the next week (which is today). She also said she was going to bring her boyfriend. At first I was pissed about her bringing the boyfriend, but then I decided that it might just add to the entertainment.
So here I was again in the same bar waiting for her. Having my gin and tonic, thinking about what I would be doing soon, and positively soaking the crotch of my panties.
Finally the bitch arrives. Half an hour late. And she's got the same pussy of a boyfriend with her. She rules him. He's the type that if you were on a date with him and got pissed off, you could order him out of his own car and drive away. And he'd call you the next day to apologize. He was cute though (in a prissy way).
We all go up to my suite.
- - - - - - - - - -