The alien jiggled her tits at me. The creature seemed utterly consumed with sexual innuendo and interest - or....perhaps it thought that I was, and it was all simply to entice me into letting it free.
No chance of that happening; I may remind people of the 'absent-minded professor' smart-but-dumb mad scientist cliche, but I wasn't quite so absent-minded as to forget the threat this creature posed. And that was what I was here to assess - the black-budget, Area-51, off-the-radar wing of the federal government that didn't exist employed me for just such assessments.
"Determine whether 'Classified-Alien-Intelligence-Research Experiment-269 was a threat to national security. And if so, recommend a countermeasure to my department.
"Claire..." I nodded. It seemed appropriate I thought, as I typed in my thoughts and reports onto a keyboard that added them to a holographic screen, using cutting-edge tech that wouldn't be public for another 15 years.
"I love that name;" The Alien told me. "I'd love it even better if you opened this enclosure and fucked me." she-it said. I really wasn't sure whether 'Claire' could be referred to in that way. Yes, outwardly it had perfectly copied the body of a surprisingly voluptuous woman in her late twenties, with golden-blond hair that curled at the shoulder length tips in a row, very fifties-June Cleaverish. Yet her blue, floral pattern dress seemed to push up her tits to form blatant, tantalizing cleavage striking to any observer. More like a wet-dream fantasy of a housewife.
But I couldn't let myself be fooled. The creature's exact biology was an unprecedented mystery. I had scanned, X-rayed, probed, and tested it...her... for days, and was beginning to get a picture that raised more questions than it answered.
"The entity designated CLAIRE-269 is composed of what appear to be a mass of partially differentiated pluripotent stem cells." I had clicked on a small voice-recorder that I often employed for spontaneous documentation of my insights as I paced my billion-dollar, underground laboratory.
"The cells are not unlike immature blood cells; but it's as if the entire biomass of the entity is made of these stem cells; like some sort of leukemic organism. The cells are flushed with an unknown enzyme that superficially resembles the hormone estrogen, yet with side-groups in a constant state of flux; this enzyme seems to catalyze.... thousands of reactions...in a way that defies everything I know about biochemistry." I shook my head in amazement. Claire giggled at my confusion.
As I paced and spoke into the recorder, I walked closer to the Alien's enclosure. It was a thick, Plexiglas cube with a bed, a treadmill, a table with various educational aids used to determine the extent of the creature's intelligence, and a television mounted on the wall, off most of the time.
"Equally unusual is the DNA of the alien life form. I've examined thousands of cells, many of them have differing amounts of DNA, and the genes coded in the DNA are transcribed seemingly at random. It's as if the cells only obey their genetic code half of the time, in other situations they operate according to some independent rubric I have yet to determine.
"Most of it is identical to human DNA, yet the cells it produces couldn't possibly operate the way they do if the instructions implicit in human DNA were being followed. It's...It's chaos. I would never believe that an organism like this could survive, much less grow to adulthood. And it's levels of DNA actually seem to be...decreasing?" At that, Claire's beautiful face seemed downcast and anxious.
"Does this entity have... I just don't understand; everything on Earth....EVERYTHING... has a mechanism to replicate its own DNA, yet...I find no traces of any of the three DNA polymerases, and none of the normal enzymes that repair mutations. What will this creature do when its DNA finally depletes itself?" Claire swallowed; looking worried.
I sighed. What will I do if I have to report a bunch of 'unknown', 'cannot determine', to the advisory board? I was here because I could find answers to scientific conundrums that run-of-the-mill Ph D's would never imagine. I slumped into my high-backed chair to ponder, resisting the urge to feel sorry for myself.
"I could've had the fame; I could've had acclaim from my peers, my pick of universities worldwide.... almost had the Nobel in my grip. But I got too cozy with a Grad Student that wouldn't take no for an answer - she couldn't prove anything... but the shame, the disgrace of it all..." But then Uncle Sam had come along with their doubled-edged offer. I could have access to data and equipment to make most scientists salivate, I would be given access to test subjects and inscrutable incidents to challenge the most ingenious intellects. Yes, there was the money too; but with all the clandestine-secrecy, there were severe limits to what I could do with the salary.
But I would know the truth, I had told myself; the real answers that the UFO-religions would give their right-arms to discover....errh... well, that's what was supposed to happen. But in truth, the super-secret black-budget paranoia-wing of the government kept everything so compartmentalized that I had barely scratched the surface of the greater mysteries that the public wasn't meant to know.
Like Claire, for instance. I would ask her again the question that had nagged me.
"Are you ready to tell me your place of origin?" I tried to sound stern.
"MARS!" She squealed happily, then started giggling. "I have no idea, silly. Just like the last time you asked."
"Is your species a natural, unknown stock, or are you of extra-terrestrial origin?"
"Do you remember being conceived by your parents? " I frowned.
Still, I would continue, the answer was here....the answer was close. Claire began pressing herself against the Plexiglas
"If you want to learn about me; then you should feel me firsthand..." her breasts squeezed against the glass. "Feel my naked body against yours, fuck me with your hard, horny cock; you'd learn a lot from a roll in the hay!" Again, the creature was trying to distract me.
I began experimenting again with a blood sample from Claire inside a sealed, glass booth with gloves penetrating into the compartment.
"The quasi-estrogen hormone that exists at human-fatal concentrations in the creature's hemolymph has catalytic abilities that I must continue to explore." I said into my little black voice digital recorder as I began the tests.
"I've found that incredible textural changes are possible by bombarding the subject's tissue with various electromagnetic frequencies." I turned a dial inside the booth, there was a low, electric hum. The blood in the tube turned gray, and hardened into rubber. Adjusting the dial again, the mass in the test tube seemed to sprout a coat of fuzzy, brown fur. Another adjustment made the fluid as transparent as water. I scrutinized the sample, until an insight hit me. I turned back to the alien.
"Your clothes; it's all an illusion, isn't it? You're not really wearing anything, are you?"
"Bingo!" Claire confirmed with a smile and giggle. "I guess you don't like the slutty housewife look huh? Wellllll...." Claire shook her head, and somehow she was no longer wearing a blue floral-print dress, instead she was now clad in a pink bikini with nipples blatantly pointing through. Her body was lean, toned, perfectly voluptuous and yet with a strong suggestion of strength and vitality that sent a shiver of desire down my spine as she displayed her scantily-clad assets. Her hair was still 50's house-wife curly and blond. She could see the way I inhaled, how interested I was.
"Or maybe...." She shivered her body. "Something more cozy?" Her body had morphed before my eyes into a sizzling red lingerie with fishnet and pumps. Dressed to kill, boobs jutting upwards to best, sluttiest effect as she strutted and posed. The alien's mimicry was incredible - flawless.
"I know what you want... you want a bad girl; a dirty girl..." Claire crooned. She changed - shifted in less than a second, but now she was apparently naked, yet coated in what seemed to be slippery, wet mud barely concealing her female charms. The nude alien seductress turned her shapely ass at me, and I noticed that the words 'LADIES MUD-WRESTLING' were painted in moist clay upon her hips and the cheeks of her wide, shapely buttocks. That was amazing! The ability to use her own body to reproduce text! What else could Claire accomplish?
"But maybe you're the one who's been dirty....maybe you've been naughty..." With a shake of the head, the mud and nudity was replaced with a sleek layer of black, patent leather, with a dog-collar, spiked bracelets, and a chain going from a pierced lip to her ears. Somehow, a bull whip was in her right hand and handcuffs seemed to be in her left.
"Meestress Claire vill punish you, leetle man! You vill beg to cum! But only vhen Meestress geeves you leave to do so!" Her eyes took on an air of lusty menace as she adapted to a dominatrix fantasy that made my face beet-red. Unconsciously, I leaned in closer to the spectacle. Claire moaned and writhed in her enclosure.
"Are you a leg man, or a tit man? Well....I've got you covered both ways..." she said in a sultry tone. She actually was growing visibly taller; her legs elongating into sumptuous towers of muscled grace as the outer covering morphed from black, vinyl leggings into pantyhose with red high-heels. Her black vinyl bustier flowed and shifted to become a flimsy white T-shirt with the printed words:
Titopia Triple-XXX
Wet T-shirt
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