First Contact

Blame Tels for this. She said it was ready...

Everyone knows exactly where they were when First Contact happened.

Its one of those moments that just gets burned into your brain, and you never forget.

But in my case, it was especially hard to forget, because it was the last day of my life as I had known it.

The first sign we had that we were not alone in the universe was when their spaceship entered our solar system.

I had been forced to live in the observatory thanks to being kicked out of my own house, and just happened to be looking at Pluto in a telescope when I saw it, and there was no doubt in my mind that this was no comet or other natural object. It was huge, maybe the size of Australia, and it had a shape that almost seemed too cliche to be true.

It was a flying saucer.

Phone calls were made, N.A.S.A. and other official agencies got in the act, and we went into lock-down, unable to tell anybody what we had seen until they gave us the all-clear.

By then the craft was passing by Jupiter, and no one doubted it was headed for us. Then some amatuer astromoner released shots of the craft, and the world went a little nuts.

The craft came to a stop just inside moon orbit, and a smaller craft came out and wafted toward the Earth, and very quickly it was obvious it was headed for Washington, D.C., and no one was sure what to do.

Finally, it was decided that a small delegation of politicians, scientists, journalists and military personnel would go to the Reagan airport, which looked like the landing spot the craft had chosen.

As part of the group that had been the first ones to see the craft, they picked me to be part of the welcoming party, so there I was, in my best suit, trying to look like I knew what I was doing.

The craft came to a landing neatly in the middle of the runways, and then an opening appeared.

Everybody by now was expecting the cliche - little green men, but that’s not what came out.

Oh sure, they were little, all right. Two feet tall at the most.

But they sure weren’t green - they were pink, and black, and brown, and any combination of the three you could imagine.

And they wern’t “men” at all.

They looked like women.

Small, yes, but as beautiful as any woman who ever graced the Earth, with slim waists, perky breasts, and amazing legs, all of which were shown off proudly.

But that wasn’t all they had.

They had wings - beautiful, butterfly-like wings.

And they could use them, as well - their pretty feet never touched the ground for long.

One came forward, and you could just tell she was the leader - not only was she larger than the others, her whole bearing was one of authority and power.

“I would speak to your queen.” She said.

“We... dont have a queen. We have a President for this country. He’ll speak to you, I’m sure, once we know what you want.” I replied.

She looked at me as though she had not registered my individual existence before I had spoken.

Then her gaze softened, and she said, “You have the potential to be a queen.”

She flew up to me, and stung me with a stinger that had been somehow concealed in her wrist, and before anyone could react several of her followers had grabbed me and flew me to their craft.

It seemed that they were much stronger than their size and delicate features would have indicated, and the flew me with ease inside, and put me in a small room.

They started to strip me, and I tried to resist, but the sting had made me weak, and barely able to move or speak, so very quickly I was naked.

Under other circumstances being nude in the company of such beautiful looking females would be arousing, but as it was I would rather have stayed clothed.

They put me in a chair, strapped me in, and shoved a large tube into my mouth.

A few moments later the sweetest liquid I had ever tasted was dancing down the tube, and into my stomach.

Once it was clear i could drink no more of it, the tube was taken out of my mouth, and I was released from the straps of the chair.

Then they picked me up, and flew me to a small cell-like room, put me inside, and sealed it behind me.

Meanwhile, all heck was breaking loose outside as the other members of the delegation demanded my return, only to be told “She will not be harmed. Once she is prepared, she will serve as ambassador to your world.”

Most people probably didnt catch the pronoun trouble with that sentence, and those who did probably thought it was simply an error of translation.

Unfortunately, they were wrong.

I was not aware of this at the time, I was still looking at the nearly transparent door to my cell, trying to figure out what they wanted with me while I slowly recovered from the sting.

I started feeling good enough to protest my treatment, but attempts to either break down the door or even get the attention of the girls who flew around outside.

After a while, their leader came back, and she flew toward my cell.

I banged on the door shouting “Let me out of here!” “Why did you take me, what do you want?”

“Please try and relax. As soon as you are the proper shape, you will be our ambassador.”

“What do you mean, proper shape?”

“You shall see. Dont worry. It shouldnt be too painful.”

And like she had invoked it, I started to feel my body changing.

Unfortunately, her idea of ‘Not too painful’ and mine were very different, and it was a blessing when I passed out...

When I awoke, I did an inventory of my body, and knew I had been changed.

Then I peeked in the mirror, and if I had any doubts they were erased by my reflection.

I was a girl.

But that wasnt strange, hadn’t I always been a girl?

I tried to remember my childhood, and I must have been a total tomboy, and a lesbian besides, but still, nothing has really changed.

Then the Queen came into my cell, and all thoughts left me except one.

I was very, very horny.

And by the time she left, that wasnt a problem anymore, do you need pictures?

She did things with my female parts I had never tried before - somehow, when it came to sex, I always seemed to have a strap-on, even if I couldnt remember putting it on.

Then as I laid in the afterglow of God-only-knew how many organisms, the whole thing fell apart.

I remembered my next-to-last girlfriend, and she had been a serious homophobe who eventually I broke up with over it.

But why would she date a girl in the first place, no matter how butch I had been?

And then my real memories came back, and I remember being a boy, then a man, then being kidnapped and forced to drink some strange nectar and changing into a girl.

I was still debating what to do, when the Queen came back in.

“We .... owe you an apology. We didnt understand your species, and we assumed you were like us, because you look so much like us. But we now understand you're very different from us. You have two genders, whereas we only have one, and so we have caused you great harm, no matter our intentions.”

“But why ... have sex with me?”

“That is the way we exchange information. It is because of our contact with each other that I understand the mistake we’ve made. We shall return you to your people, and then we shall leave your planet, and not return.”

“Can you ... change me back?”

“I’m sorry. We overwrote your ‘Y’ chromosome, and there is no way to restore it. Come, let us return you to your people.”

And that’s what they did. They sent me home with lavish apologies, and as soon as that was completed, they took off, and I’ve never seen them since.

It wasnt until the next day that the full force of what happened to me hit.

I had a massive “download” of information on the Queen, her people, and the world they came from. It was nearly overwhelming, but lucky for me I was still being “debriefed” by the government, and that gave me someone to tell everything I learned.

About three months later I walked out of government care, and began to make a new life as a girl. I got enough money from selling my story to live comfortably, so I gave up my job at the observatory which wasnt going well anyway.

No matter how smart I was now, it was hard for the others to take seriously someone who looks like a eighteen-year old supermodel, only slightly shorter.

So I left the work behind, changed my name to suit my new gender, and became an independant consultant. And wouldn’t you know it, I got back together with my girlfirend, who always was a little bi, and seemed to like me a lot better this way, not to mention the fact that I could now set my hours in a way that meant I could spend more time with her.

But that’s just my day job, my civilian life.

Because I still have one secret.

The Queen didnt actually turn me into a human female.

I’m closer to a hybrid of her people and mine, which means I have some special abilities which I occasionally use to help people in trouble.

For example, I can fly.

I have what look like butterfly wings, which by no means look strong enough to lift me off the ground, but what actually makes it possible for me to fly is actually a form of telekinesis.

That’s not my only power, I’m actually a lot stronger and more durable than I look, and I have a special surprise for anyone who tries to mess with me.

I have concealed in all-but-invisible sheaths a pair of stingers, one in each hand. It seems that part of my breasts are not mammary glands, but a pair of poison sacs that produce a powerful toxin, strong enough to knock out just about anybody with one sting.

The only thing I havent done yet is decide on a super-hero name - I mean Butterfly Girl doesnt exactly strike fear in the hearts of evildoers, does it?

As soon as I make a choice, I’ll go public, and then watch out.

The world’s first superhero will be on the case.

Assuming my girlfriend lets me, of course.