tagFetishImpregnated by Aliens

Impregnated by Aliens

byStoryTeller07©

(This is another short story that has been hanging around for a long while. It needed to be got it out of the way, so as to concentrate on a series.)




"I didn't get elected because I'm a nice person. I was elected because I put daddy's money in the election fund, and had more money than anyone else, to spend on promoting my image. I got votes from men because I look good, I know that too," Mary stated.

"While I'm governor of this state, I'm going to make more money than my father ever did. Afterwards, I'm going to make even more. So shut up complaining and get on with it," Mary firmly told him.

"Because you're the state governor you can't go, it's too dangerous. They're a male dominated society, you don't know their language and they could hold you hostage," her brother retaliated.

"Read the reports, damn it! They are scientists. They don't do war. Because they are men, I'll be able to handle them," Mary scolded her brother.

"They don't have women aboard the ship. You would be vulnerable up there," John pointed out.

"Exactly, another advantage over them," she pointed out. "Can't you see how powerful this would make me?" Mary asked.

"I know your arguments, backwards," John sighed.

"Well then, it's decided. I go aboard and get agreements signed and delivered. Trading agreements, political agreements, everything I want sewn up into a neat package," she beamed.

"I bring the agreements signed, while those men in the United Nations are playing politics. I get to represent earth, all trade through me! We are looking at a chance at the presidency here," Mary laughed.

John sighed. It had been a long shot becoming state governor. Because the voters were tired of the political old boy network, she managed to scrape in with a small majority. The favourite had died in a plane crash, while campaigning, and the rest, as they say, is history.

"There's no stopping you is there!" he heavily sighed.

It was true they were alien scientists, with advanced technical know-how. They were also naive, when it came to business, and his sister was an astute negotiator. That helped get her in the running for governorship, as well as being squeaky clean, with next-door-girl looks.

"You can do it sis," he smiled right back at her. It was his job to support her and he would get her onto the landing craft, despite the security services and anyone else who tried to get in the way.

A vacation was announced to explain her absence. Once she gave him the all clear, John would announce she was in secret talks with the aliens.

Diplomatic negotiations so far, had been nothing but meaningless words. It was taking time for the diplomats, with a career to protect, to agree anything at all. They were protecting each of their nation's interests, as well as their own.

The Garmon's representative had of course met with the powerful and influential, President of the Untied States of America. A full meeting with advisors present went well. It had been noted that they were a male orientated society so Mary took a back seat, as advised.

John had managed to get her into a meeting with the aliens though it was him who cornered one of them. Taking the opportunity to talk with one of the alien representatives, John arranged a private meeting.

A limo pulled up right outside the shuttle. Getting through the security cordon, had been easier than he thought. Wearing a dark suit, with her hair tied back under a hat, she looked like one of the diplomats involved in negotiations.

As soon as John got back in the limo the driver sped off. There were few checks on who was leaving, and the missing anonymous diplomat, wasn't noticed. A limo arrived and left, that was all that was noted. John crossed his fingers, hoping all went as planned.

"My name is Bill, it is easier to pronounce," the Garmon's representative, stated. "I will introduce you to our culture, err, people," he stated.

He wasn't quit sure what to do with her. It was difficult to fathom how these people worked together. They seemed to find it difficult to agree with one another. He was going to thoroughly analyse this female human, having only dealt with the males up until now.

These earth people thought so differently. They seemed to depend on feelings so much it got in the way of logical thought. The precision of his culture and language made it so difficult to translate ideas. He wanted to get back to the laboratory, where he could immerse himself in analytical studies.

"That was such a smooth trip. I can't believe we're in orbit, so high above the earth," Mary said. "I thought we would beam up," she laughed. The comment had escaped, as an expression of nervous tension, which she quickly brought under control.

"Yes," he replied, not understanding a word of what she said.

The ship was huge, she knew it from reports, but this close as they docked its power was overwhelming. The immensity of the thing, just hanging over the earth, was staggering. It fed her sense of importance with Mary feeling on top of the world.

"We will have to go through the decontamination cycle, before entering the ship. It is to protect the experiments. Material from other worlds have been collected and are being examined," Bill stated.

It was like walking through a series of revolving doors, without the expected hissing and sound effects from an old movie. Everything seemed so clean and efficient. Once through the obstacles, they walked down a long corridor. No pictures or ornaments, she noticed. No decoration at all, just bare walls and floors of what felt like soft plastic.

"I will take you to your quarters," Bill stated.

"I want to meet your boss, I mean the captain, or whoever runs this ship," she said, only just refrained from saying, 'take me to your leader'.

"We have a meeting in eight hours. I assume you will want to freshen up," he told her. He was on familiar ground with this expression, as it had been used so often with his dealings with the earth people.

The quarters had been furnished like a plush hotel suite. Mary looked around, opening cupboards and running taps. She decided it was an exact duplicate of a first class New York hotel. Typical bland paintings on the walls, every detail had been duplicated.

Bill recorded her movements and reactions in detail. Bodily functions were monitored and measurements taken. Analysis showed the body, as well as the mind, was inefficient.

***

The meeting wasn't a success so far. She didn't understand a word and Bill couldn't translate much. The reports had been correct. There were a hundred or more in the crew and all were scientists. They seemed to be swapping ideas, adding explanations to the reports, amalgamating information between the various disciplines.

The seating was staggered, like a theatre, though without a stage, and no-one seemed in charge of the meeting. The seats were reasonably comfortable, but again, no superfluous decoration. There was no comfort in the place at all. No woman's touch to anything, including the men.

Mary was struck by the computers more than anything. Just this one device could bring in mega bucks on earth. She watched in fascination whenever a pen like device was removed from a pocket. It shone a screen of information, as large as necessary, in the air. Pointing at something in the air, operated the system, just like a touch screen.

At one point in the meeting, one of the scientists brought up a schematic of something he was working on, and was completely surrounded by the image. He was pointing to sections of it, which expanded into greater detail.

As fascinating as this was it was getting her no nearer to making a deal, or even meeting someone capable of starting negotiations.

Information had been made available about her too. "They are asking me about you," Bill said.

"Tell them I represent earth, I'm here to make trading agreements," she quickly said.

"The subject is here, representing earth females. It is an agreeable specimen," Bill stated.

"That is good, so many of them are disagreeable. We wonder how they ever work together. Tell it sharing is important for progress," one of them suggested.

"They say, agreements are good, that sharing information is important for progress," Bill stated, while hoping he had the translation correct.

"How do I explain why you are here? A gift?" he asked, remembering the gifts he had been given every time he left the planet. It had taken a few trips, before he understood the concept of gifts.

"Yes, a gift, certainly, no problem," Mary enthused. She was getting somewhere now. She would tease out what interested them, and produce as many gifts as they could carry. It would be like giving beads to the natives.

"This Mary is a gift, from the people of earth," Bill stated, attempting to imitate the expressiveness used by those on earth when presenting gifts. It seemed to please the Mary subject to hear her name mentioned.

The fellow team members looked on with blank faces, wondering what to do with the earth person. There was plenty of information, too much to analyse for the present. Ideas bounced back and forth, until the biology team came up with a question.

"They do not seem to make efficient use of their reproductive systems. Do you have further information from your analysis," Bill was asked.

"The figure of nine cycles from fertilisation to birth is correct. The female produces eggs every cycle. The male produces fertilisation sperm constantly. The female prevents fertilisation for economic reasons. This seems to reduce production to, two or three per female," Bill replied, adding to the growing knowledge.

"These are great inefficiencies in their biological processes. We wish to study how improvements can be made. Considering their reluctance to share information, will this 'earth female' co-operate?"

"They ask if you are willing to share information with us," Bill asked.

"Of course, anything you want, I'm here to make agreements," Mary smiled.

They spoke slowly and deliberately, with many taking a turn on clarifying a point. There didn't seem to be a leader. Maybe she could divide and conquer. Bill seemed the only one that spoke the language so she would use him.

She had worked out that members of the different disciplines wore different clothing. It seemed to be for practical purposes, rather than tribal or hierarchical. She figured she would have to make agreements with each group of scientists.

At least they were talking about sharing and agreements.

The meeting broke up and Bill led her back to the suite of rooms, or so she thought. All the corridors looked the same.

"We are here, this is a study chamber. The scan we went through earlier, indicated you are, ill," Bill said, hesitating over the word, 'ill'.

"What's wrong with me?" Mary asked. "Is it serious?" she asked again, wanting him to hurry up and say something.

"I will show you," he said.

Of course he didn't have the vocabulary to explain what they had found. She tried to remain calm and reminded herself she had a thorough medical a few weeks ago.

Again she marvelled at the pen computer, as it shone a picture of her, in mid air, almost life size. The mysterious symbols disappeared when he pointed to the picture.

"The red colour denotes areas of ill," he said.

Her left knee was red and she remembered an injury from some years ago. There were plenty of red dots and patches all over her body.

"Are any of these illnesses terminal? Will I die from these?" she asked, trying to be as plain and simple, as she could. He seemed to be thinking about what she was asking.

"These will not kill you they are. . . We do not have ill," he stated, unable to continue, lost for an explanation.

"They are just mild injuries?" she tried to help out. She felt so much better when he nodded.

Bill noticed had already note earth people became satisfied, when he nodded while looking solemn. They called it insightful. He had tried to translate this statement in its many guises, to no avail.

Mary looked at a red patch below her navel. Areas of her womb were red. She knew all about this. She had let her father down. He had been disappointed when she told him she couldn't have children.

"We will correct you, here," Bill stated.

"You'll fix me, make me better?" she asked.

"Yes, you will be better physically," Bill confirmed. He was on happier ground now. Making her better than she was before, was a clear statement of fact.

Mary was frightened. The thought of entering one of their machines was terrifying. She was strong willed though. The possibility of having her womb repaired, in working order, propelled her forward.

The machine looked like a sun bed, hardly frightening at all. She undressed, looking around for a gown. The alien, Bill, didn't even glance at her. Perhaps he might prefer her brother. She lay down in the bed like machine, and he closed a clear plastic lid.

Right then she had qualms about what they were really going to do to her. Naked and helpless on an alien ship, it all seemed such a stupid thing to do. The lid was lifted and he helped her stand.

"How long was I in there?" she asked. It seemed like no time at all. The lid seemed to be closed then opened again.

"Four hours," Bill answered. This was an easy question to answer, for it was a simple calculation.

"You should rest, in your room," he stated.

"Where is my room?" she asked. While he led her through identical corridors, they passed laboratory upon laboratory. Eventually she gained the courage to ask the important question.

"Is my womb better? Not ill?" she quietly asked, as they walked.

He didn't seem to understand. "Can I have a baby? Is my reproduction fixed?" she babbled, desperately trying to find the right words.

"Yes. It is working. It is improved, much more efficient than before," he stated.

The long corridor was silent. They walked without further conversation, as she took this news in. During the campaign a rival had leaked the news she was infertile, but the dirty trick backfired. There had been votes from mothers feeling sorry for her, and empathic votes from women unable to conceive.

Even some men understood. She had channelled her energy into business, then politics, instead of raising a family. They seemed to accept her ruthlessness as an expression, of a need, to create something.

"Is there a way of contacting my brother? I need to contact someone on earth." she stated. Mary suddenly had the urge to talk to John.

"Yes. The telephone," Bill told her.

He pointed to a standard looking telephone placed on a table. Earlier she hadn't bothered to pick it up, thinking it was just for show.

"Thank you," she said. As strange as it seemed she didn't doubt it would work like an ordinary telephone.

"You are welcome," he responded, but she didn't hear.

She picked up the telephone and put it to her ear, feeling foolish. There was a familiar dial tone! The well used number came to her easily.

"John? It's me," she yelped with joy.

"Are you alright? Where are you?" John asked.

"I'm just great! I'm in space!" she said, while wiping away a tear.

"You sure you're OK? You sound, so near," he said, still sounding worried for her.

"I've great news. Everything is going according to plan," she announced, feeling confident.

"Well go on tell me," he laughed, with obvious relief.

She hesitated a moment. "They have agreed to share information. Nothing in writing yet, I don't think they understand the concept. They don't even have paper, so those old fools, the diplomats, won't get far. I've seen some great things here. The computers and the health care equipment, is enough to make a hundred fortunes," she enthused.

"So long as you are alright," he interrupted.

"I'm better than alright. I'm much better," she said, with a giggle.

"Look I feel tired after the meetings," she said. "I'll get some sleep then call you again," she reassured him.

It was true, she was tired. Her mind buzzed from only being there a few hours.

***

The next day, or so she assumed it to be, she showered. She smoothed lather over her tummy, caressing it with affection. Feeling hungry she searched the rooms for a snack, expecting to find at least a packet of peanuts.

Opening a cupboard she found packets of what could only be described as nutrients, not food. Hungry enough to eat a horse she read the instructions, which were in English. A little scrambled as though an alien had translated them.

She laughed, realising that is exactly what had happened. A modern microwave pinged. She was used to eating, 'shit on the road', as the campaign crew had called it.

She timidly forked a small portion into her mouth, while standing over a sink, ready to spit it out.

"Wow! Delicious," she exclaimed. This was food! Tasty food! It was produced on this alien ship and so much tastier than home grown fast food. Looking at the packaging there was no doubt about it, it had been produced here. This was another great find.

After another trial meal, she felt ready to make alien contact again. Mary wondered around peering into rooms large and small. It suddenly occurred to her, there was a subtle shade to the grey walls. Between each section there was a difference. The medical section was somewhere here.

On impulse she decided one of the pens was needed, to communicate with Bill. Wandering around hoping to bump into him would take for ever. Walking along a corridor she massaged her tummy, while thinking what to do.

Mary was used to the doors opening automatically when she approached.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, on finding what she needed. A pen was lying on a work bench.

It was no good she didn't know how to operate it. A scruffy, odd looking man shuffled in. On earth he would look like a typical nerdy professor. They all did. She wondered if she had seen him before. Evidently he had seen her at the meeting, but he didn't say a word. Bill had said they all attended the meetings.

He took the pen from the bench and spoke into it. A map of the ship appeared. He said one word and a blue dot appeared. He pointed to her. He spoke another word and a green dot appeared.

He handed her the pen and she just stood gawping. She smiled at him. "Thank, you," she said, with exaggerated slowness, as though he were an infant. "Bill is the green dot," she said to herself, on leaving the lab.

It was easy to follow the map. She gained some expertise at manipulating it along the way.

"Hello Bill," she smiled. She noticed he tried to smile, though it was a dismal failure.

"Hello, Mary," he answered.

"When is the next meeting?" she asked.

"In four hours," he stated.

"What can I do until then?" she complained.

"Nothing," he said. "There is entertainment in your rooms," he suggested.

"How does this thing work?" she asked, feeling she was losing his interest.

He spent a few minutes showing her. She thought it was just to get rid of her, rather than being helpful. Of course, it meant she would be more independent, less of a nuisance.

"Ship map," she stated clearly, and the map appeared. "Bill, Mary," she said, and they appeared on the map. "Computer section," she stated. It was outlined in yellow. Pleased with the results of the new toy, she thanked him and left.

In her room she experimented with the device, breaking off for a meal occasionally. Feeling tired she watched an old movie. All the worlds channels were available, as well as a ships archive. Eventually she dozed, awakening with a start, hoping she hadn't missed the meeting.

Mary had only been governor for a few weeks, but was used to being reminded and guided from meeting to meeting. It had been the same in business, and on the campaign trail.

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