Alien Desires Ch. 01

Working out on the edge was something that Samantha Morris enjoyed. She liked the solitude and the privacy; but mostly she liked the idea that she was the only one around for millions of miles. She grinned to herself at the anachronistic term, a term for which she had been chastised many times in her past.

The honest truth was, she was approximately three hundred million parsecs from Earth, which placed her as far from the home planet as human kind had reached to date. Not only that, but she was in an orbital station above a planet that had been discovered about fifty solar years before and had dumbfounded the scientific community because it had contained the ruins of an apparently abandoned civilization; ruins that were man's first concrete proof that they were not alone in the universe.

The first few decades after the initial discovery had brought more archeologists and paleontologists and exobiologists and every other kind of "ologist" you could think of than you could shake a stick at. It became apparent though that, not only were the ruins very old, they had virtually no evidence of what kind of creature had actually inhabited them; and after the discovery of the ruins themselves there had been no new discoveries about the ruins since. And so after forty years of frustration, the ruins had been abandoned yet again, this time by the scientific community of Earth who held that everything that could be learned from the dig had already been discovered.

And that was just the way Samantha liked it. She had come here three months ago to study the planet, not for the ruins, but for an unexplained EM field that had been emanating from the planet since long before it was discovered and showed no signs whatever of dissipating. All the testing of the field that had been done prior to this had been for the sake of determining whether it was harmful. After it had been deemed safe it had been largely ignored by the best and brightest minds on Earth. They were after bigger fish, an alien civilization! And now fifty years later, their hopes and dreams shattered and their egos smashed before the whole world, they had left Planet Ruins, for so it had been named, to go and lick their collective wounds.

Samantha Morris was a striking woman. Just thirty-two years old, she had graduated with a PhD in rocket propulsion from CalTech and yet another doctorate in electro mechanics from MIT. Not only had she done this concurrently, attending classes and submitting two very different theses to the two universities, she had graduated convincingly near the top of her class at both institutions. Her counselors had encouraged her to acquire the degrees separately so she could excel at each one, but she had rejected the idea, knowing that there was a wide universe to explore and only so much time to do it.

So here she was, examining her data as far away from home as a person could be, seeking and getting all the satisfaction she had ever needed from the digital readouts in front of her, recording the data for later use in her next thesis which she would publish after she had learned everything there was to learn about this strange EM field.

The station itself was relatively small but functional. It contained sleeping quarters, a fully equipped electronics lab and a centrifugal gymnasium so she could retain her athletic figure. It also contained a galley with the latest in food recycling technology. The premise was simple; it isolated the atomic make-up of all human effluents and rebuilt them as needed.

For instance, you could have the generator produce a sirloin steak or an ice cream cone; it just needed the required atoms to produce whatever it was you created. Because the foods that people ate provided the nourishment they needed to build muscle mass and to create new cells for every part of the body, not all the atoms going into the body through the mouth came out the other end. Necessity demanded that a healthy food stock be provided at the outset of a mission. A well-balanced food stock could be recycled effectively and extend a month's supply of food into a thirty six month's supply.

While most people tried to overlook the source of the atoms used by the recycler, Samantha was fascinated by it. Who would ever have thought that a person's feces and urine could be broken down so completely as to be rebuilt into the most delicious foods you could find outside a fresh fruit and vegetable market on Earth? After all, one carbon atom was completely indistinguishable from another after all the chemical bonds had been severed.

After re-sequencing, no one could tell that the food had not been grown fresh from the ground; the world's chefs had eaten their own share of crow after the very public taste test had been broadcast worldwide two years after its creation. None of them had been able to guess with any consistency which of the foods they had been given were the creation of the generator and which were from more conventional sources. The creators of the generator had stepped aside and said nothing when the lawsuits began pouring in from McDonalds and KFC, all of them targeting the chefs who had declared their products to be "Shit!" on worldwide television.

Samantha recorded her last data dump for the day and made her way to her sleeping quarters. Because she was alone and had disabled the video output from her communications array, she never wore clothes; she never saw any logical reason to. She went to the shower stall next to her bed and sealed herself in. There really was nothing like a zero gravity shower. She donned her swimming goggles, closed her eyes and simply floated as the hot water jetted at her from all angles. The cycle went from rinse to power wash to rinse yet again; Samantha often likened it to a car wash back on Earth.

After the initial cycle was complete she switched the controls to continuous rinse then allowed herself to just relax as the water spray enveloped her. Her five foot five frame floated blissfully, her long auburn hair waving in the spray, her C-cup breasts tingling pleasantly. She repositioned herself so that one of the spray nozzles was pointed directly at her pubis and then switched the spray to pulse. She gasped slightly as the tiny packets of moisture struck her clitoris and then moaned as she increased the pressure. She knew from experience that she would cum within minutes and she bit her lip as the jets did their job. Her nipples puckered and hardened and her clitoris emerged from its hood, swollen and engorged, as the water jets battered its sensitive tip. After a few minutes, that old familiar feeling washed over her and she let out a long gasp as her orgasm took its course.

She turned off the water and waited for a slow count of ten before unsealing the shower door; she did not want to repeat the mistake she had made the first time she'd used a zero gravity shower. It had taken her days to dry out her sleeping quarters after unsealing the shower door too quickly.

She grabbed a towel and dried herself off and then spent the next few minutes massaging a moisturizing cream into her skin. As she rubbed the cream into her breasts and around her inner thighs she began to tingle once more. Letting herself float in the zero gravity, she plunged her fingers deeply into her vagina, stimulating herself once more as she drifted slowly across the room. With her other hand caressing her breasts she applied her fingers to her clitoris, teasing at it mercilessly as she drove herself desperately to orgasm.

These days she marveled at just how much she masturbated since her arrival at Planet Ruins. Usually she attributed it to the fact that there wasn't another human being within several million parsecs, and that was why she needed the release. This she didn't wholly accept. There had been many nights back on Earth when she could have gone out and found a suitable partner for sex, but had chosen instead to stay home and masturbate herself, though she had never done so more than once every couple of months; since her arrival at this orbital station she had found herself masturbating at least a few times a day. It was sometimes hard to concentrate on her work, but she hadn't obtained two doctorates by not being able to exercise some self-control. Most of the time she was able to stop herself and get on with the job; though not always.

Relaxed and sated now, she pushed herself toward her bed and zipped herself into her sleeping bag for the night. As she drifted off she wondered to herself yet again what had prompted her to masturbate so often. It had never been part of her character before. And with those thoughts in her head she drifted off to sleep.

In the morning she made her way to the electronics lab, as she did first thing every morning, to check the instrumentation readouts. She paused and looked curiously at the sector sweep display, the instrument that had been set up to try to determine the source of the EM field. There was definitely something different about the data this morning.

The apparatus had determined that one particular sector had shown readings at least twenty percent higher than all the other sectors swept so far. It was an area on the north-east wing of the ruins about one kilometer from the central structure. She studied it for a moment and then checked the values from the other sectors just to make sure she was on to something. Then she directed the sensor to sweep the area once more to double check the results.

Each sector was one hundred square meters and the sensor had been designed to read all bands of the EM spectrum. Because the ruins were laid out on approximately ten square kilometers of ground, it had taken almost three months until it found this particular anomaly.

Knowing the sweep would take at least a half hour, Samantha went to the centrifugal gymnasium and began her daily workout.

As the name implied, the centrifugal gymnasium rotated along the axis of the station to provide an artificial gravity within its confines. Inside there was a treadmill, weight station, rowing machine and gymnastics pads. The G-factor in the gymnasium was set at ¾ of a G, meaning that Samantha weighed three quarters of her usual one hundred and twenty pounds or ninety pounds. She went through her workout with her mind fixed on the sector sweep data. She wondered if she was finally going to uncover the mystery of Planet Ruins and smiled to herself in anticipation.

After her workout she took a shower and only barely stopped herself from masturbating once more, so eager was she to see the results of the second sweep.

After toweling off she went to the lab once more to read the results. She smiled to herself in quiet glee as she saw virtually the same results as the first sweep had found. She reset the sensor to continue sweeping, jumping to new sectors according to a predefined pattern and then went to the galley and ate some yogurt and toast for breakfast.

She typed her findings into her laptop as she ate and then began planning her EVA. She would have to go to the surface to investigate the sector first hand. She would take some portable gear, basically smaller more sensitive versions of the sensor instrumentation on board the orbital station, and set them up where the on-board electronics had found the elevated EM levels. She would then feed their output to a communications array, which would transmit them to her on-board lab where the data could be analyzed by the computers. She smiled once more as she anticipated what she might find.

She felt a tingle of excitement and had absently begun teasing her vagina with one finger as she planned the EVA. Almost without being aware of it, her finger had traced a line along the inside of one of her pussy lips from bottom to top and then back down. She bit her lip and closed her eyes briefly as a small tremor spread outward from her vagina.

Abandoning her laptop completely now, she put her hand over her pubis and massaged it, her palm pressing over her clitoris and her fingers clutching her pubic hair and stimulating her entrance. She sighed and used her free hand to pinch her nipple, rolling it rhythmically back and forth as she pushed one finger from her other hand inside her pussy. She pushed a second finger in and then began rocking her hips against her hand, pushing against herself as she dug yet a third finger inside her.

She squeezed her breast gently and then moved her hand to the other one, softly tickling at her nipple and then taking it between her fingers. She sighed again and then squeezed her tit, holding it up to bring it to her lips. She reached out with her tongue and licked at her nipple and felt a shudder with the touch. She was rocking back and forth on her hand and her fingers were penetrating all the way inside her as she nibbled on her nipple. The feel of her teeth drove her over the edge and she came with a jolt that knocked her out of her chair and to the ceiling of the galley.

She bounced harmlessly off the ceiling panel and then rebounded slowly to the floor as her orgasm swept over her. By the time she came to the floor she was not trembling so badly anymore and was able to right herself and then pushed her lithe body through the entranceway and toward her sleeping quarters. As she went she wondered to herself yet again why she craved masturbation so much these days. Without realizing it she was muttering to herself quietly, chastising herself for her apparent lack of self control.

She went to her neatly packed footlocker and pulled out her jumpsuit. While being naked in the orbital station presented no problems, she couldn't go naked in her P-suit for the EVA. Wearing a P-suit was uncomfortable enough with all its controllers, probes and joints. Being naked underneath it would be more than aggravating and could end up leaving bruises and scratches behind.

She pulled her skintight jumpsuit on and then went to the airlock connecting the shuttle to the orbital station. Before disengaging from the station she checked the P-suits strapped into their rack next to the airlock door; they were both fully charged with air and power, and so she pulled one down and climbed into it. "Climbed into it" really was the proper term. You didn't really wear a P-suit; you carried it on your back like a turtle carries its shell.

She pushed herself toward the cockpit and strapped in. She disengaged the docking clamps and then used the maneuvering thrusters to gently shove the craft away from the station. She then guided the vessel toward the atmosphere and killed the thrusters; gravity would do all the work from here on in.

The velocity increased and the shuttle nosed up a little to ensure that all the re-entry heat would dissipate against the lower hull. After about ten minutes of skimming the atmosphere, the friction finally began to slow the shuttle. After another ten minutes the glider wings extended and she simply waited out the time it took to bleed off the excess speed she had built up on entering the atmosphere. It was likely she would orbit the planet about three or four times at slowly descending altitudes before the craft could be put into atmospheric flight mode.

The computer did all the work and so she had time to think.

While she was excited about the impending discovery ahead of her, most of her thoughts centered on her recent obsession with masturbation; she just couldn't understand why she didn't seem to be able to get through a single day without bringing herself to orgasm at least once, and sometimes as much as three or four times a day. Not only that, but her self-induced orgasms seemed to be much more powerful than they had ever been before she came to this planet.

She frowned and decided to look up some historical records.

She called up the archives for the records of the archeological digs on Planet Ruins. She did a standard search for unusual events and found nothing. She pursed her lips and thought for a moment and then decided to look into the personal logs of the various researchers.

Scanning through them she didn't seem to be having any luck. She shook her head and began to dig deeper. She read the summaries from the personal journals of all the research directors and still had found nothing. She was about to give up when a curious entry dated about twelve years before her arrival caught her eye.

"Had to relieve Dr. Stevens of her position here today; her behavior in the recent past has left me no choice. Sad really; she is a gifted researcher but I cannot stand by as the discipline in this camp has deteriorated to a point where common decency is so blatantly disregarded."

Samantha executed a search on this Dr. Stevens. Soon she had it. She was an archeologist who had come here along with all the others to try to solve the mysteries of Planet Ruins. Like all the others, she had failed. Unlike most of the others, she had not stayed for the entire length of her contract. She had in fact left after being here for only five months despite the fact that her contract, like all the others, had been for twenty-four months.

Samantha called up a biographical page on Dr. Stevens and saw that they had much in common; she was thirty three upon her arrival here, Samantha was thirty two. Her picture showed an attractive woman despite the severe hair-do and horn-rimmed glasses.

"Do people still wear those?" Samantha asked herself.

Dr. Stevens' research prior to and even after her sojourn on Planet Ruins had been impeccable; even now she held a post at Stanford and had three books published.

Samantha searched for Dr. Stevens' personal journal but found it had been deleted.

"Now that's odd," she said curiously.

After searching through every record that mentioned the good doctor, Samantha was still no further ahead in discovering what had led to her being dismissed and sent home after such a short period of time.

She decided to try a different tack. She executed a search on all those people who had left the planet prior to their contract expiring. She came up with one hundred and thirty four names. She studied the list for a moment and then narrowed her search to eliminate those who died before their contracts expired. She was now left with one hundred and one names. She thought for a moment and then eliminated those people who left because of emergencies back home. Her list now contained forty three names. Then she narrowed the search to exclude those people who had left because their funding had dried up. Now her list contained just twenty two names.

Looking at them, she was surprised to see that sixteen of them were women, including Dr. Stevens. She called up biographical pages on each of them and saw that they were all between the ages of twenty seven and forty. She saw also that each of them had left within six months of their arrival.

She creased her brow for a moment and then did a much more general search. She searched the database for all women who had been doing research here and was shocked to see that, of the thousands of scientists and researchers who had come to this planet, only one hundred and twenty five of them had been women. She searched their ages and was further surprised to learn that, of all the women who had worked here, only the sixteen who had been sent home early were under the age of forty. All the others had been forty five or older.

Going back to her list of sixteen women, she looked up their personal journals. Just like Dr. Stevens's had, all their journals had been deleted. She then looked up their supervisor's names and then called up their personal logs. Going through them, she found similar entries to the one regarding Dr. Stevens; all of them had been asked to leave for behavioral problems. Some of them were more diplomatic and some were more explicit, but all of them implied that these women had been less than discrete in their activities.