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| - | ''Just a little something for fun. Random ideas based on the Alien Abductions pictures and stories. Non-canon (not official, obviously). Subject to change based on Grigbertz releasing new information, drawings, or correcting something mentioned here.'' [[User:KiTA|KiTA]] 12:58, 5 September 2014 (CEST)
| + | #REDIRECT [[Alien_Abductions/KiTA's_Stories]] |
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| - | === Part time Receptor Girl ===
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| - | Aimee was relieved. She had been one of the women that had been pulled into that horrific alien nightmare, but strangely, the aliens had let her go. With that poor Jessica girl on all the TV stations and more girls being found every day, she considered herself lucky. Still, she had to wonder -- just why hadn't they done anything to her?
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| - | One day, just as her weekend from University started, Aimee was walking across her campus when she paused, a not unpleasant tingle starting in her breasts and spreading through her body. Seconds later, she found herself literally stepping out of her shoes as they, along with the rest of her clothing, turned to dust and vanished.
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| - | Before she could even react to this, she found herself placing her hands behind her head, a half-remembered pose from the alien ship coming to mind even as the tingle in her arms and legs was turning into a strange buzzing. She sat down gingerly, her legs seemingly moving on autopilot as she found herself subconsciously pressing the soles of her feet together.
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| - | The buzzing stopped even as she felt something squishy between her fingers and toes. She tried to pull them apart to look, but found they were stuck fast. She tried to gasp in shock, but even as she did so she felt a strange squishy feeling spreading across her lips, like a fluid lipstick. She could do nothing as the strange feeling seemed to spread across her mouth and around her hands and neck.
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| - | The crowd panicked, some good Samaritans rushing forward with coats or shirts, which vanished the second they draped them over her. Still others screamed and ran, thinking the strange situation was now somehow contagious. A few, both men and women, tried to hide the lewd glances and flushed cheeks as they made no effort to help, but also no effort to leave.
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| - | Aimee paid them little notice. Her mind was elsewhere, as the strange but not unpleasant tingle had only grown stronger, focusing itself in the most scandalous of places. Places that Aimee was now acutely aware she couldn't reach.
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| - | ...
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| - | Days later, just before her classes were set to restart, Aimee found the strange tingles stopping just as soon as they had begun. She was still on campus, although someplace decidedly less public. Fortunately, she had found several dozen nice people to help her with the tingles, although they had been unable to help remove the strange goo.
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| - | But even as she began to focus again, her mind clearing after two days of nonstop bliss, she found her arms and legs suddenly free, the goo slowing melting away into her skin as she watched.
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| - | Her clothing still missing, Aimee quickly slapped her arms over her nudity, running for the safety of her dorm room and it's fresh clothes, thankful that whatever this strange event was, it was now over.
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| - | ... Until next weekend.
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| - | === A Scene from Late Night Television ===
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| - | ''AAN Network, around 11:47 PM''
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| - | "... and three times the amount of rutabaga!"
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| - | Natalie smiled as the audience clapped, some hooting and hollering. She moved from one foot to the other, sending her unfettered breasts swinging freely. She smiled as even now, months into her new show, a few men (and women, she noted) forgot to clap as they stared on, dumbfounded.
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| - | Each week there were fewer and fewer of them. She liked to think it was due to the respect she was earning, slowly, despite her condition.
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| - | "Look everyone, it's Peter Tillis."
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| - | Peter and his band started playing his generic music, even as she spun on one leg to point at him, revealing her bare ass to the audience. More hooting, but she didn't look. Her hands twitched as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other again. Her nipples ached for her hands, but she hadn't been able to do that for months and months and...
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| - | "We got a great show for you tonight," Natalie said over the music. "We'll be talking with Neil Degrasse Tyson about those strange comets they've found recently. After that, we'll be visited by my close personal friends, Dr. Harry Throb and his lovely assistant, Jessica! Rounding out the show, we'll have the Wallflowers with their latest from their new album."
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| - | Natalie smiled as the music got louder. She looked over and noticed her producer Sally frantically pointing at her chest. Natalie blinked, glanced downwards at her seemingly permanently hard nipples, framed by flowing cloth, a piece from her new collection...
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| - | Oh!
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| - | "Tonight," she spoke as the band quickly lowered their volume again, "I'm wearing my new 'Rivers of Cotton' blouse, part of my Summer Peek-a-boo collection, exclusive to our friends at Macy's."
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| - | She turned around, her hands on her back, the muscles in her bare hips flexing as she contorted slightly. "An adjustable strap in the rear lets you show off as much, or as little, as you might like. I'm wearing the matching stockings, and it comes with an optional skirt, for those girls who are feeling a little shy."
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| - | Natalie tried not to feel too much stinging at the sound of the laughter. She had come to terms with her condition months ago, when it became abundantly clear that no one could help her. The realization that she could still look good despite -- or perhaps because of -- her permanent exposure eased things somewhat. The advertising contracts she had with several designers and stores had also helped make her a millionaire several times over, and she certainly couldn't complain about that.
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| - | But still, there was something decidedly silly about wearing spending each night on stage, wearing lingerie and creatively modified business-wear. Not that she could help it. She spun in place, making sure to show off the ensemble she wore as best she could, while the television behind her showed a more traditional model wearing it fully intact. Her hands twitched as her clitoris itched, crying out for fingers, but she knew better than to try...
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| - | "We'll be right back, thank you for being here everyone!"
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| - | Natalie slumped slightly as the light dimmed, letting her know they had gone to commercial. She stared at the advertising poster off to the side of the stage.
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| - | "The Naked Truth," was written in some silly font by some graphics designer that probably made more than she did back at her old job. Under it, there she was, stark naked and covering herself with her arms, microphone in hand, laughing like an idiot. She tried not to remember just how painful that photo shoot was, her traitorous body deciding trying to hide her shame was the same as trying to indulge herself.
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| - | It was insane. By all right, she should have been drummed out of polite society, yet alone television. But somehow the ratings just kept getting better. Somehow, her physical exposure had translated into... media exposure.
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| - | She was living her dream... as long as she ignored the fact that her breasts, pussy and ass were seemingly destined to permanently on display for the rest of her life.
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| - | Natalie flinched as the tingle and itching on her clitoris and nipples brought her out of her mental monologue. She motioned towards the camera guy near her and at a slightly bemused Sally, and then started running as fast as she could to the hallway off the side of the set.
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| - | She only had a few minutes to get as much rubbing and touching in as she could, and she would just have to hope it would be enough to make her to the next commercial break...
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| - | === Meanwhile, On The Next Channel Over ===
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| - | ''ABN Network, around 11:47 PM''
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| - | A short and lithe woman stood in the middle of the stage, her bronze skin seeming to glisten as the lights caused her to sweat slightly. A spritz of oil she applied before the show helped the process along. Careful studying of the first few week's audiences showed that when she was damp like this, her ratings went up.
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| - | "We have a great show tonight. First up, we have T.J. Miller with his new film, Search Party." Nancy smiled, "Followed up by our continuing expose -- The Abducted Girls: Bondage Crazed Nymphos or Insane Cult?"
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| - | Her audience, decidedly more male than her competition's, stared on enthralled. A few remembered to clap. Viewers at home didn't notice -- a recording of applause filled the gaps.
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| - | "We'll round out the evening with stand up from friend of the show, David K.C.!"
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| - | Decidedly more clapping this time, although she knew it wouldn't be enough -- the recording would be playing to those watching at home.
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| - | Fools, the lot of them. Nancy smoldered, although her smile didn't fade. She would have the success she deserved. Couldn't they see to what lengths she would go for it?
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| - | Indeed, how could they not?
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| - | "I'm Naked Nancy Yamamoto, and when you strip away all pretense, you're left with..." She shifted her pose, thrusting her hips slightly as the band began playing some generic music, "The Bare Essentials."
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| - | Unlike her compatriot one channel over, there was no fashion line to pitch before the first break -- no fashion at all, in fact. Unlike her somewhat more respectable competition, Nancy was completely and utterly nude, her skin unbroken by any clothing, jewelry, accessories... even shoes. Her modesty being protected, technically, by a team of computer nerds applying a mosaic filter to her body before the film went out over the air.
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| - | It was all coldly calculated by executives and Nancy herself. If Natalie exposing a little skin on "The Naked Truth" was good, then Nancy showing a lot of skin on "The Bare Essentials" was better, right? The fact that somehow Natalie's show had gotten a free pass to show nudity certainly helped; it meant that as long as Nancy and the network stuck to the story that she was affected in the same way, they had to let them continue.
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| - | The only thing not Nancy on stage with her was an old style wireless microphone, which she gripped like a club.
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| - | The lights dimmed and the cameraman gave her a thumbs up.
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| - | "And we're out!"
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| - | Nancy sneered, spinning on the balls of her bare feet as she stormed off the set. The second she was out of view of the audience, her long suffering assistant began rushing towards her, doing his best not to look directly at her naked body. He held a mass of blue fabric out in front of him comically, like a shield.
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| - | "Jimmy, you idiot, you're supposed to have it ready to slip on, not all wadded up." She ripped the blue robe out of his hands, slipping it over her shoulders. "Seriously, why am I surrounded by unprofessional fools?"
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| - | "Sorry, Ms. Yamamoto."
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| - | Nancy stormed over to a small table off to the side even as a sharp dressed man tried to intercept her. Jimmy kept going, reaching the table -- and it's precious coffee maker -- first.
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| - | "Ms. Yamamoto, we have spoken about this." He crossed his arms, staring down at the short hostess. "If it gets out that you're not really affected the same way that Natalie and those abductees are, we'll be off the air within hours."
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| - | "You let me worry about that, Mr. Winters." She scoffed as Jimmy handed her a large cup of coffee. "I'm not walking with my assets on display more than I have to. No one notices when I leave work because with a hat and clothes on, I'm just another Asian intern in the crowd."
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| - | "Nancy..."
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| - | "Mike." Nancy grinned, adjusting his tie for him. "I knew the risks when I pitched this asinine idea to the network."
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| - | Which was true, she thought to herself, she had known the risks. The catch was she had planned on selling the idea to the studio and having them hire some bimbo to take those risks. By the time she had realized they had intended on using her as the starring role, it was too late to back out.
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| - | "The network heads trust my judgment. I make a lot of money doing what I do. I won't do anything that will put that at risk."
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| - | "You mean the show, right?" Mr. Winters said, impassively staring on. "You won't risk the show and all these people whose lives are reliant on you keeping up this... pretense?"
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| - | Nancy remained silent. The money was good, but ratings were down. For some reason, her nudity seemed to be getting old, while Natalie's seemed to draw in new viewers every day. Or worse, Nancy thought to herself, Natalie's show was somehow... better, and the audience could look past all the skin on display and see that. The thought annoyed her to no end on some level.
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| - | Still, Nancy could count the days before she broke the charade, came out as a fake, and wrote a tell all book. She just needed the show to work long enough to create buzz for the book -- and for her to finish it. The show would never survive it, but she would be able to retire off the proceeds and no one would ever forget the name Nancy Yamamoto.
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| - | She would have her success, damnit, one way or another.
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| - | "Sixty Seconds, Nancy." A man with headphones on shouted as he leaned around the corner, careful not to look straight forward. On the set of "The Bare Essentials," the only people who survived past the first week were those who learned never, ever to risk seeing Nancy Yamamoto naked when they didn't absolutely have to.
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| - | She downed the rest of her coffee in one gulp. "Ugh, Jimmy, clean that damned coffee pot, this tastes like copper."
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| - | "Yes, Ms. Yamamoto."
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| - | Mr. Winters shook his head and walked away. Nancy smiled briefly at him. Even as important as he was, the last thing the man from the network would want would be to be dragged in front of Human Resources again for looking at her. They were both professionals and he would act like it. Or else.
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| - | With a sigh, Nancy slipped her robe off her shoulders, leaving her utterly naked once more. She handed it to Jimmy, who kept his eyes tightly shut.
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| - | "Remember Jimmy." Nancy traced a finger across his chin. "If I ever catch you looking, you'll never work in this town again."
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| - | "Yes, Ms. Yamamoto."
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| - | "Thirty Seconds!" Someone shouted from behind her.
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| - | He wasn't a bad kid, Nancy thought as she padded back to the set, just a bit young and ruled by hormones. Still, she wouldn't put up with anyone looking at her body who didn't have to. It was with that thought, along with a silent curse directed towards lawyers and her own stupidity for not reading her contract, that she held as she returned to the stage, repressing the desire to flip off some idiot in the front row who started whistling at her.
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| - | ...
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| - | Jimmy kept his eyes tightly shut as he heard the 'slap, slap' sound of Nancy's bare feet on the tile of the studio floor. Seconds later, he reached silently into his pocket and produced a phone.
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| - | "Yeah, it's me. I slipped it into her coffee. She'll be ready tonight. I trust you'll have my money ready?"
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| - | Jimmy silently opened his eyes, staring off towards the set. Nancy's bare hips were on display as she slipped around the sofa, hiding behind her desk. She was safe there, props specifically placed to hint, but not quite show, her nudity for the rest of the evening. To the audience at home, anyway. To anyone in the studio -- guests, audience members, staff -- she was completely on display for anyone brave enough to look.
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| - | Three people had been fired or transferred to other shows this week alone.
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| - | "Oh, don't worry. I'm sure she deserves whatever you have planned."
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