Page 97 of Earth Girls are Easy… To Dominate
There are a dozen of these tables, so there is nowhere chaste to look. Women scream their pleasure every few seconds. Itdoesn’t matter if their skin is white or brown, their hair curly or straight, their limbs long or short; they are all treated to the same blissful orgasms. My gut ties in knots as my baser instincts take over. While I promised to remain a virgin on Earth and not bare myself to men’s gazes—human men—nobody said anything about extraterrestrials, unidentified machines, or whatever treatment these ladies are receiving.
A redhead to my left groans. Her flailing leg hits my hip, startling me from my awestruck gawking. She shines with perspiration and puddles of arousal. I bite my lip in anticipation. The thought of my marriage coupling within our modesty sacks churns my stomach. This may be my only chance at achieving an orgasm in my pitiful life. It’s decided. Even if it means I never return to Earth, I want what she’s having…
CHAPTER THREE
“Yoo-hoo! Yoo-hoo! Little green men of the spaceship? Can I get a table for one?” I wave and shout at the one-foot-tall attendants. Half their height is their enlarged heads, but that doesn’t mean they have the brains to speak human language—let alone have picked English if they do.
I grab the collar of one passing by me. He swivels around and bares his little fangs. His six claws, distributed on two hands, rise over his head as he hisses. He doesn’t have pupils, so his black eyes are narrowing black pools of menace.
“Oh, you’re adorable!” He rears back as I rub the top of his bald head.
He buzzes at me. Too bad he doesn’t use words. I have a million questions.
“I’m Jenny. How can I sign up for what they’re doing?” I reach my hand out to initiate a handshake. When he stares at my hand, I grab his and shake. Should I smile? I saw on television that animals feel threatened when humans show their teeth. Maybe that’s why he tried to intimidate me. He was afraid of my teeth…but his teeth are pointier. What is it they say in the movies?
“I come in peace,” I say with my lips curved in a smile that doesn’t show my teeth.
He rips his hand from mine and raises it over his head as if he were about to scratch my belly. A hiss escapes his thin, grey lips, quivering over his mouth full of fangs. Maybe I have this all wrong and he’s baffled by my enthusiastic response. If Lisa were here, she would throw a fit—first in fear, then in annoyance at missing her date with whatshisname.
“Oh no, I’m so frightened,” I say with no heat. I raise my fists to my mouth to sell my performance. “Don’t hurt me, alien! I’m just a weak, innocent human!”
I’m no actress, but did he really have to huff at me? He buzzes and chirps at me in a way that suggests he’s chewing me out. Eyes wide and hands waving, he unloads his frustrations in the cutest little tantrum. When he gestures at me to respond, I shrug because, despite my intuition reading his emotions, I didn’t catch a word.
“How about I just sit here until you’re ready for me. Is that it? Are all your tables occupied, and I’m an extra? Did you pick me up as a spare in case one of these ladies needed a nap? I’m very patient…just don’t send me back…please.”
Maybe it was when I sat down to look into his eyes, or when I quieted my voice to release the desperation I’ve hidden all my life, but the alien’s demeanor changed. I know it wasn’t when I said please. He continued to buzz at me, but with no heat. We’re pleading with one another in two different languages—maybe asking for the same thing. He cups my cheek with his tiny hand, and I lean into the contact. His buzzing stops with a sigh, and we stare at one another.
No shared language. No written communication exchange. But the experience of an overworked, underpaid minion who has reached the end of their tether is universal.
“Same, buddy, same,” I whisper, with tears rolling down my cheeks. One of his three fingers moves to catch a tear. He brings it to his nostrils—he doesn’t have a nose—and inhales it. With a pat on my cheek, he scurries to the alien running the blond’s table. They exchange buzzes, pointing at me and gesturing in large arcs, until the alien at the redhead’s table joins them. He gets shoved out of the way, but he still contributes to their conversation. All three nod at once…and they pull one of the cords hanging from the ceiling.
What’s that whirring sound? Did it just get drafty in here? Oh my, a glass tube is lowering over me! I fold my legs and wrap my arms around them to ensure I’m completely in the tube. I can’t lose a limb inside a UFO! The tube touches the floor with a his before the vacuum kicks into high gear. Ouch! The suction is stronger than my bobby pins and rips my hat from my head.
“I would have undressed!” I shout as I work the rest of my bobby pins free. They fly to the ceiling like darts. My trio of alien friends pulls the cord again, and the suction intensifies. My shirt untucks from my pants and flies up over my face. I gag at the forced inhalation of hot dog grease.
“I need this shirt back. It’s my only spare.” My shoulders ache as the shirt is torn from my body. To avoid more injuries—since my ultimate goal requires me to be naked anyway—I strip off my pants, socks, bra, and panties. As they are lifted, I imagine them sailing to heaven to complain about my wanton behavior. I grip my cross out of habit. My heart pounds against my chest, vibrating my knuckles. The suction whines in a higher pitch as if to rip off my necklace.
“No stopping now,” I say as I release the clasp. What have I done?
Why is everything tinted purple? Where did that smoke come from, and why is it purple? It’s like I’m trapped in a music videowith Prince. I sway and hum his tune as my eyelids grow heavy. Oh great, sedation…
My chest hurts like when I drank Chi-Chi’s hot salsa on a dare from Lisa. Lisa? I bet she’s having the time of her life at our place, and I’m going to ruin it with my hot dog uniform. I bet I zonked out after falling over the bike rack. I can’t believe I hallucinated Tiffany’s green concert, UFOs, and sympathy from an alien. What’s the least believable part? Probably that I’m lying in the softest bed I’ve ever slept in and clean of hot dog grease. So I guess I am home, but… Who showers while unconscious?
“Hey, Lisa,” I call, “why did we trade rooms?”
“This room is mine, was always mine, and will always be mine, pet,” reverberates a voice from my chest. I wince when I put my hand over my heart. There’s a metal plate embedded in my flesh! The surrounding skin is red and angry, too. “Do not try to remove your translation chip, or you won’t understand me. Worse, you will ruin my handiwork.”
“You did this to me?”
“Catch up!” My collarbones rattle with the force of the yelling. “I’ve worked for months to decipher your primitive language. The least you can do is act like you understand your own words.”
“Thanks.” I guess.
The bed is nearly the size of this dark room. Tiny rays of light reflect off the metal walls, so I must still be inside the spaceship, but in a much more intimate space. At the foot of the bed is alarge bank of buttons and blinking lights. A large screen shows the human women on their tables in a network of small squares. A second screen is black with white dots—bad reception—or is that outer space?
“Have we left?!” I sit up in alarm.
“Just a cruise, pet. There’s no reason to be alarmed,” the voice purrs from within me.
