Tommy sat in his living room, hitting his bong while he watched the late-night infomercials. The man on the T.V. went on and on about becoming rich through real estate investing. Tommy considered what it would be like to be a rich real estate mogul instead of a twenty-six-year-old loser smoking weed on his Moms couch.
He shrugged, flicking the lighter and holding it to the herb again. Crackling as it lit up bright red, the water in the chamber below gurgled as he inhaled the smoke. He exhaled, watching the tendrils curl in the air before him. A quick, brilliant flash filled the entire house, blinding him for a moment.
"What in the fuck!"
Tommy set the bong down on the coffee table in front of him, rubbing at his eyes. Light blind, he stood from the sofa, waiting a few more seconds for his vision to return. When It cleared enough that he could make his way to the wide living room window, he looked out into the dark night. He couldn't see anything but vivid spots hovering in his vision, so he closed the curtain, instead walking to the front door of the quiet home.
He strode out, into the front yard, and scanned the surrounding area. A dog in the neighborhood barked a few times, and a police siren wailed in the distance, but nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. Suburbia was as still as it always is at 3:30 am on Tuesday.
"Damn dude. I must be tripping." He muttered to himself as he went back into the house. He locked the door behind him, stalking over to the table and retrieving the water pipe. He took another rip, jolting in surprise when it sounded like the garbage cans in the back of the house had crashed to the ground. He coughed out the smoke, beginning to head in the direction of the back door.
"Ah! Stupid racoons." Little shits had probably spread the garbage everywhere by now. He walked through the tiny kitchen and attached dining room, opening the sliding glass door. Going out into the carport, he headed towards the backside of the house to find the mess and deal with it.
As he rounded the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks, shock stamped on his face. There, in the middle of the back yard, a small silvery craft glowed dimly. The doorway was open, and in it stood a lavender skinned, scantily clad female, her dark purple hair in a high ponytail. She was saying something in a weird, disjointed language, until she noticed Tommy come around the corner and fell silent.
Standing by the fallen trash bin was another violet skinned woman, her shiny black hair cut short, who turned to him, curiously. A third was down on all fours, her curly blue hair puffing around her like cotton, her fat ass in those glossy black shorts high in the air while she investigated a large dandelion.
Tommy looked at his bong, astounded. "Damn, this is some good ganja!" He exclaimed.
All three of the women were looking at him now. The one that stood in the doorway of the craft stepped down and took a few steps towards him.
"Mi nok fuik guits woig. Mishow, delo?" She said.
"Hahahaha? What?" Tommy said, squinting his red eyes as he laughed.
"Ugl, guu dreg mott whithiut mook. Wah!" said the one standing beside the trash can. She began to fidget with a small band of machinery around her wrist.
The first one shook her head, seeming to agree with the other.
"Yeh, plee suk quay delo. Shuta mak." Answered the one who remained on her knees by the flower.
This shit has got to be laced. Thought Tommy.
The middle one, with the high ponytail and hair past her ass, began to speak again. This time, a loud, squeaking voice came from the box around the wrist of the other female by the bins.
"HUmon. We come in search of D.N.A. You will give to us." She said, pointing at Tommy.
"Yes, we need. Give to us, HUmon." The one on all fours stated.
"For real?" Tommy said, feeling excitement pass over him. And then, sudden apprehension, as stories of anal probes flooded into his head. Eyes wide, he covered his butthole with his left hand.
"You're not going to take it out of my ass, right?" He asked, terrified.
The women looked at each other, perplexed. The one by the debris shrugged. It was clear they didn't comprehend the question.
"Remove clothing, HUmon." The lady by the cans commanded.
"Ok, wait a minute. This is way too weird." Tommy set the bong down on the concrete porch by the edge of the house. He walked towards the women holding his hands up.
"Who put you guys up to this?" He insisted.
The woman who had been down on her knees stood, and all three of them began to close in on him, hips swaying seductively.
"Woah, wait a second, ladies, I..."
The tall one, who seemed to be the leader, grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him bodily towards the open door of the craft. Tommy tried to dig his feet into the grass, but the blue haired female joined her, grabbing his other arm, and helping to pull him towards the vessel. The short haired girl put her hands in the center of his back, helping the others to push him closer.
"Oh shit, no way, let go!" Tommy attempted to pull away from the women, and they worked equally hard to hold on to him. A look of anger passed across the face of the tall one, the other one seemed confused by his unwillingness to enter with them.
A jolt of pain ripped through him, so sharp it took his breath away. No scream left his lips as the layers of consciousness folded in around him, dropping him into darkness.
***************
His eyes slid open slowly, roused by a strange grating noise. A bright light shone down on him, glaring into his eyes. The three women surrounded him, looking down at him inquisitively. They were indescribably beautiful, endowed with all of nature's greatest gifts.
The blue haired one held some kind of wicked looking item in her hand. It almost looked like an elongated tattoo gun, but without the needle tip. She was a little heavier than the others, but still looked good with those voluptuous curves and those tight black clothes. The other women wore similar garments, the three of them together was a striking picture, indeed.
Tommy endeavored to get up from the table, but he was shackled into place on its chill metallic surface, unable to move.
The female with the short black hair smiled, running her fingertips across his bare chest. His skin prickled in response. "Do now." She ordered.
Blue hair put the tip of the weird machine against the top part of his pectoral muscle. With a loud clink and hiss, it launched an object into his skin. Tommy screamed, the object slicing into his skin, causing a special kind of heated agony.
The three women looked at one another, clearly disturbed by his reaction. Blue hair dropped the object, surprised. The black-haired woman took a step back from the table, shocked.
Tommy's eyes darted to each one of their faces, frightened. "Oh shit. This can't be real."
The women conferred amongst themselves in their weird language, this time the conversation was not translated. As they seemed to bicker, Tommy tested his restraints. They were super tight, to the point where he could not move easily. They stopped conversing, watching him again.
"Please, just don't put anything in my ass. Like, I'm down for everything else, but not that." He said.
"What... do we do?" the black haired one asked the leader.
