Sarah uses a magic typewriter to rewrite reality. Sexy alien fun times ensue.
tags: alien, reality change
Sarah unpacked the car in only two trips: the first, an absolutely heroic effort to carry all of the luggage she and Amber had brought for their week-long vacation; and the second, a very focused and careful effort to deliver her roommate’s antiquated typewriter to the cabin’s dining room table.
Amber was already bustling around the cabin, knocking away cobwebs and firing up the central heater, but she paused to watch Sarah out of the corner of her eye. The track star gently set the hunk of metal down, then stepped back, looking at the scene and placement with a scowl so serious it marred her usually carefree face.
The expression made Amber… feel something, something akin to panic or elation or dread. Was Sarah unhappy? Focused? The answer came a moment later, when her roommate nudged the corner of the typewriter, making it perfectly parallel with the table’s edge, and then stepped back with a smile.
The smile and good humor only deepened the turmoil clenching Amber’s heart. This was her family’s cabin, and it had been her idea to invite Sarah along on their winter break from college. They were just roommates, but it felt like a lot was riding on this, like Amber really, really wanted to impress Sarah—Sarah, the affable, kind intercollegiate athlete that seemed impressed by everything and didn’t have a mean, judgemental bone in her body. But did she actually like the cabin? What if she didn’t? What if Amber screwed something up—
And then Amber realized she already had screwed something up.
“Oh shoot!” she cried. “Ah fuck! The typewriter ribbon! I forgot the typewriter ribbon!”
Amber almost burst into tears on the spot. She loved to write, but it had been a really rough semester; this vacation had been her chance to finally get back into the swing of things. And she had already messed it up! Everything was going wrong!
“Wait!” Sarah quickly interjected, then started to feel around the pockets of her down jacket. “It’s here somewhere… just let me… here! Ta-dah!” And sure enough, she pulled out a little cardboard box, the exact right size to hold a typewriter ribbon. “I thought you might write a ton this week, so I stopped at a stationary store and picked an extra up for you. You know, just to be—”
“Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyou!” Amber ran over and clenched her roommate in a bear hug, inadvertently crushing her glasses into the taller woman’s cleavage. “You’ve saved the week! I could k—”
She pulled back awkwardly before she could finish, interrupting herself by snatching the ribbon out of Sarah’s hand—and then blushed even brighter as their fingertips brushed each other’s. She collected her face with a glare of faux exasperation. “Don’t lie to me. You knew I’d forget the ribbon.”
Sarah smiled bashfully and looked away, rubbing her neck in agitation. “I, um. Yes. I thought you, uh, might. But!” It was her time to straighten and brush off her embarrassment. “The nice old lady at the stationary shop said that this ribbon was special, and that it would—” and here she affected the crone voice of an older retail worker “—‘make all your dreams come true, lassy!’”
She grabbed her smaller roommate by the shoulders and guided her over to a dining room chair. “So get to writing! Quick, type up that idea you were telling me in the car—about the alien? And what was it—the tropes? The roommate trope? You told me to tell you to type it up first thing when we go to the cabin.”
“Oh! Right! Yes! Let’s do this!” She dramatically cracked her knuckles as Sarah puttered off, unpacking food in the kitchen.
AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES!
Amber thought her perfect roommate Sarah was too good to be human. AND SHE WAS! Little did Amber know, her roommate was a SEXY INFILTRATOR from an ALIEN PLANET who was designed to be ALLURING AND SEXUALLY COMPATIBLE as a way of SEDUCING HER PREY. But then… … she FELL IN LOVE.
Amber leaned back, looking at the absolute drivel she had typed out. She smiled. It wasn’t more than a story pitch, honestly—but it was the first thing she had written in months, and drivel or not, it felt good to be creating again.
Then she blushed furiously, realizing she had simply subbed in ‘Amber’ and ‘Sarah’ for the characters’ names. “Oh shoot! Ah fuck!” she whispered to herself, struggling to pull the paper out before Sarah noticed.
“Hey, Amber?” her roommate called from the other, almost startling her out of her chair. “Could you come in here for a moment?”
She found Sarah awkwardly standing in the kitchen, looking stressed and unhappy. “I… have something I need to tell you.” The star athlete nervously crossed her arms. “I, um… I really like you.”
Amber blinked, a smile frozen on her face, not totally understanding what Sarah was trying to communicate. “I like you, too? I mean, we’re friends. Friends like each other.”
Sarah shook her head vigorously. “No, no. God, this is so stupid to say at the beginning of the vacation, but I have to tell you—I like like you. I like the way you giggle. I like the way you push up your glasses when you’re about to passionately talk about something. I like it when you tell me about your stories. I like watching your favorite shows with you. I like… holding you… when we watch your shows. I think you’re cute, and I… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m expecting you to say, I’m sorry, I—”
“Sarah.” Amber said the name with enough forcefulness that it cut through Sarah’s spiraling apologies, surprising them both. The other woman jerked her head up, waiting, the silence stretching out as Amber gathered her thoughts.
“I… I think I… what I’m trying to say is…” The vice of feelings around her heart began to throb, and then Amber realized that the vice actually was her heart, tight and scared. “I, uh, I invited you to the cabin because I wanted a chance to… I don’t know, say something like this, too? I mean, that sounds creepy when I put it like that, but… I love going to games and watching you compete, and I love how you snore when you fall asleep on your textbooks, and any time I think about doing something, I want to do it with you? I don’t know where this leaves us, but yeah, I like like you, too.”
The athlete gave a serious nod, her tone taking on an awkward formality. “I’m… very happy to hear that. But that might make this next part more difficult to handle.”
She gave a resigned, melancholy sigh and stepped back, her posture losing its nervous anxiety, her arms hanging loose at her sides.
“What do you—” Amber started, only to snap her mouth shut as she saw what Sarah meant: the taller girl was transforming.
It was subtle at first, a slight change in the pigmentation of the skin, from a dusky tan to something that looked almost green, slowly spreading across Sarah’s features. And then the texture began to change, too, as if she were no longer covered in flesh, but in a shiny almost-chitin.
Sarah’s shape was also changing, her proportions growing. Her yoga pants and t-shirt were stretching tight around thickening thighs and expanding shoulders, and she gained another head of height on her nerdy friend.
“Please, do not be alarmed. I mean you no harm,” Sarah assured her, and Amber looked up in time to see her friend’s facial features begin to shift: her lips growing fuller and darkening to an emerald green, her face growing longer and more severe, her eyes widening and darkening, until they framed her face, as if with two pools of stygian night. Her hair began to writhe, twisting and combining to form a head of long tentacles that dropped to her shoulders.
The final result was a creature that looked like Sarah, but somehow even more Sarah than Sarah: taller, fitter, possessed of an alluring and alien beauty. In the face of such a pleasurable sight, Amber could not muster her sense of fear.
“I am known as the Xara’ha’kot Tol on my homeworld. It is not a name, but a title; it marks me as an organism molded to infiltrate more primitive worlds, lest they grow in strength and threaten the Eternal Hegemony.”
Amber looked at Sarah—Xara’ha—in total bewilderment. “Excuse me, what?!”
“I understand that this may be difficult for you to hear, Amber”—she pronounced the name with the same warmth, but there was now a sibilant undertone to her words—“but I was designed to be alluring and sexually compatible as a way of seducing my prey. I am an artifice, designed only to fulfill a specific mission. But before I could turn the governments of this world against each other, I made a mistake. I…”
“… you fell in love,” Amber murmured, uncertain where her certainty sprung from.
Xara’ha’s eyes flashed with hope. “Yes, I did. I was tasked with entering the education system of this world, to learn to see it through the eyes of its dominant species. There was an… organism… in my introductory history class. It continued to distract me from my attempts to acquire knowledge. I told myself that approaching this organism was acceptable, that I could use it as an opportunity to learn of this world’s cultures and mores. What I did not expect was that I would come to cherish this creature’s giggles, and the way it—the way she—pushed up the ineffective optical device on her face, and how I would breathlessly listen to her entirely fabricated stories, which did not help my mission of conquest one iota.”
Amber’s own breathing was short and shallow, and she burned with a newfound heat that flushed her skin and left her brain fuzzy. The alien wasn’t lying; she was clearly made for sex, and being in such close proximity made Amber’s heart pound. “But… you said there’s some sort of alien invasion?”
Xara’ha clenched her fists, and her expression turned to one of implacable fury. “No. Never. They will not try again.” And then her voice softened. “Do you remember this past summer, when you learned I had lied about attending a tennis camp, and I made you promise you would never ask me the details of where I had been?” Amber nodded. “I was designed for one purpose, and I am very good at that purpose. I infiltrated the invasion fleet that was mustering in the shadow of this world’s moon. I destroyed it.”
“Uh. Wow. Huh.” Sarah cleared her throat, trying to think of something smart, but instead found herself unable to look away from the graceful lines of Xara’ha’s chitin. “Why, uh, tell me now?”
The alien woman gave a shuddering breath. “I was designed for deception and destruction. I do not want to be those things any longer. I have come to cherish this world, to have feelings for it, and a will to act in its defense, all because… because I woke up one day and realized that I wanted to see this world through your eyes. You have helped me become something more than myself, and I could not return the favor with lies. With the invasion threat gone, I have no moral justification for continuing to deceive you about my true identity.”
She looked down, an all-too-human expression of melancholy. “I understand if you need time to process this. I understand if you never want to see me again. Even though I was designed to be alluring and compatible with whichever mate I chose, it’s possible that you don’t want—wait, wait what are you doing?”
Amber had nuzzled up against the taller woman, breathing deep of her rich, alien smell. “No, that’s okay,” she murmured. “It’s completely fine. I think I can work with this.”
“I cannot let you do this!” Xara’ha cried. “It’s the pheromones! Your mind is being addled. I cannot trust that you—ah!”
The smaller woman reached high and grabbed Xara’ha’s collar, pulling her down to look straight into those black, alien eyes. “Xara’ha. Sarah. Whatever. Am I hornier than I have ever been in my life? Yes. Does breathing in your scent fill my mind with this consuming desire to be, like, pinned down and bred? Um, also yes. But I probably wanted all of that before… this. And hearing that someone destroyed an evil alien invasion fleet for me is probably the sexiest pickup line a girl could ask for.”
Xara’ha blinked back in amazement. “You’re not… scared of me? You don’t find me hideous? You still want to—”
Amber shut her up with a kiss, her smaller pink tongue losing the fight to the strangely sensual coils that slipped from Xara’ha’s maw. When they were done, Amber was panting for breath. “Human, alien, you must be a lesbian of some sort, because only a lesbian genetically engineered sex machine that is actively making out with her girlfriend could still doubt she’s hot and desired.”
“So… does that mean we’re dating now?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Amber groaned, then grabbed both sides of Xara’ha’s head with her hands. “How can I make this clearer: this hoooman feeemale wants your strange alien probes in her right now. Right now. Put me over your shoulder and haul me off to your spaceship, by which I mean the couch, because there are still no sheets on any of the beds.”
The worry finally lifted from Xara’ha’s face. “I like where this is going.”
“I’ve not been crafted for interstellar sexual conquest, but I can assure you: you will absolutely like where this is going.”
Xara’ha laughed, a strange and titillating alien giggle, and tossed her girlfriend over one shoulder. “A strong boast, hoooman feeemale! But I was trained in the pleasure pits of Tarsalon V! Prepare to have your galaxy rocked!”
As she was hauled off to the living room, Amber spied the typewriter out of one eye, and sudden realization clicked into place.
Oh shoot! Ah fuck! The typewriter! ALLURING AND SEXUALLY COMPATIBLE as a way of SEDUCING HER PREY! I accidentally wrote this into reality, didn’t I?!
And then Amber smiled, certain everything was going to be alright. This was going to be fun—like a dream come true—but if it wasn’t?
She had a whole week to brainstorm up another story.
This story was based on a prompt Jill provided me during my pandemic-inspired flash fic challenge, a simple prompt about a magic typewriter that can change reality. But I immediately defeated the purpose of a flash fic, and kept writing and writing and writing! My greatest regret is that this is an Extremely Devi Story, foregrounding all sorts of emotional wholesomeness and downplaying the explicit sex. Better luck on the lewds next time!