I get home from work and land in front of my desktop. Eight hours of playing ‘spreadsheet’ at work has taken its toll on my sanity and I need to unwind badly. I log on to Other Places, where we discuss weird science fiction ideas. It’s cheesy, but it’s also a relaxing mental stretch.
A new thread started today; it’s called “Trapped!” and has already had a couple of dozen responses. Not too bad, since it was only started a few hours ago. I check the byline: Zecondsyte.
Wait, what? Zecondsyte! That’s me! There’s no way I could have started this, my boss would fire my ass if he found me on a chat board at work. My heart sinks as the only other possibility sinks in. I’ve been hacked.
I really don’t want to have to go through the identity recovery procedure right now. It’s way too much like work. To forestall the inevitable I read the header. What did “I” start?
Trapped!
You find yourself trapped in a totally alien world. The creatures that live there are only marginally human and most of the technology is foreign, though at a similar level of advancement. How would you get home? Assume this world has no technology we don’t.
The responses are the usual mix of crackpot advice and nascent thrillers. Everyone assumes the natives are hostile except Fufu69, who is more interested in sexual compatibility. There are a dozen different ways to take out an intruder, assuming the intruder is human, and the whole thing is slanted on how to live among the aliens since there’s no way home.
Ten minutes later I’m done reading. It’s actually kind of an interesting concept, but I should really get to work recovering my account. I head over to my bedroom to get the shoebox o’ passcodes.
The bedroom looks like it’s been trashed by foreign agents looking for secret plans, which is to say, like it usually does. I wade over to the closet. Thank God the door is open, I don’t feel like digging away the heap of laundry at the moment.
My closet smells like bacon. How is that possible? In my apartment, bacon doesn’t last until it’s out of the kitchenette, let alone into my bedroom. I start scanning the stuff on the closet floor.
I find a pair of feet: white, alien feet. They’re attached to svelte alabaster legs that rise up to a featureless white torso with what would be breasts if they had nipples and four long white arms pressed against the closet walls. One arm holds several slices of microwave bacon in a handlike appendage with two big fingers and one thumb.
The creature that took my bacon had a vaguely birdlike face, with a beaklike mouth and two little openings that I assumed were nostrils. And eyes; she had huge hawklike eyes that continually darted about as if looking for an escape – or prey.
I stand frozen for what feels like hours, but is probably only a few seconds. Then I slowly back away. After two steps I trip on my laundry pile and fall backwards onto the bed.
She’s on me in an instant.Two strong hands grab my elbows and two prehensile feet grab my knees, pinning me down. She stares into my face, using her beak to pull a piece of bacon from another hand. The final hand grabs onto my clothing.
Now that we’re out of the closet I get a good look at her. She has six limbs, two legs and four arms, all jointed like arms and ending in three-digited hands. Her face is vaguely owl-like, except the beak is as white as the rest of her. Her entire body is covered in hide that looks like alabaster leather; no feathers or scales or ears, not even fingernails. She’s actually kind of cute in a six-armed owl-monkey sort of way, if that makes sense.
She looks into my eyes and starts clucking, a sound like a hawk pretending to be a chicken. I can tell she’s trying to talk, but I obviously don’t understand.
“Uh, me Eddie?”
That draws a quizzical look. She tilts her head this way and that and leans in close to smell my face. Her breath smells like oranges and bacon.
She puts another slice of bacon halfway into her mouth and then pushes the free end against my lips. I think Fufu69 was right; this is an alien sex thing. I’m scared, but it’s bacon. I grab the other end.
She starts tugging and I refuse to let go. I hope that’s the right response. We pull back and forth like two dogs worrying a piece of rawhide until the bacon snaps. She swallows and makes more clucking sounds.
She pulls out another slice and we do it again, repeating the process until all the bacon is gone. By the end I’m acutely aware that she’s ostensibly female and obviously naked, holding me helpless in my bed. Thank you Fufu69! She reaches her free hands down and wraps her fingers around my neck. Aw, crap!
I come to (thank heaven!) lying naked in a makeshift nest composed of my clothing. I’ve got orange peels, burger grease and a sleeping female alien on me. I’m trying to come to grips with this when I hear knocking on the apartment door.
“Eddie, are you in there? We’ll be late for the movie!”
It’s Karen; she has my spare key, and I hear it in the lock. My life just got complicated.