Date: Sat, 29 Oct 2011 19:41:35 -0700 (PDT)
From: Stephanie Silver <sjtw69@gmail.com>
Subject: I Was Abducted By Sex-Crazed Space Aliens in Burley, Idaho

I Was Abducted By Sex-Crazed Space Aliens in Burley, Idaho
by Stephanie Silver


Chapter 6


"How was your date, Runt?" asked my father in a loud voice as I closed the
front door behind me. I'm sure he meant the appellation as a form of
endearment, but a runt, for those of you who may not know, is a term used
to describe the smallest member of a litter. It referred to my status as
the youngest member of the family, as well as my small stature. I hated the
name.

"It was okay," I said. I didn't bother to tell him about the kissing, or
wearing Anna Marie's clothes, or walking past the skateboarders and buying
jewelry.

"Did you take her out for ice cream?" He was almost leering, I swear.

I had to be careful. If I said no, he might want his ten dollars back. If I
said yes, he might want more details. I suppose I learned to be an
accomplished liar from an early age, and so I quickly invented a story that
used up as many of the facts as I could think of. "We stopped for pizza," I
said, thinking of a pizza parlor that was along the route we'd taken home,
not far from where we'd walked past the skateboarders. It also helped
explain why I was so long getting back.

"Oh, pizza, eh. Sounds like you had a good time." He was still leering, and
I knew - I just knew - he wanted to ask if I'd gotten a kiss out of it.

Which was incredibly amusing to me, because the truth was, I had. Not to
mention a feel of her breasts. Dad would have been so proud, if he had
known the truth. A real chip off the old block. That is if I only told him
part of the truth. But if I only told him the part of the truth he wanted
to hear, I'd have to find a way to avoid telling him the other part. In the
end, it just seemed easier to pretend I was the shy, socially awkward runt
he thought I was, who somehow managed to get a date, but wasn't the type to
get any further than that.

"Yeah," I agreed, smiling shyly.

************

Part of the art of good storytelling is not only knowing what to say and
how to say it, but also knowing when it's time to quit talking. And it
occurs to me now that the time has come to begin bringing this story to an
end.

Because there's really not much left to say. At least not without repeating
myself.

I met Anna Marie at the fence again that night. I was wearing her skirt,
her blouse, her bra and underpants, my own necklace, earrings and anklet,
and finally the pantyhose she had loaned me. I'm proud to say I figured out
the mystery of panty hose on only my second try. Roll it into a ball, put
your toes in first, pull it up a little, start working on the second foot,
pulling it up a little at a time until, as Anna Marie had said, "they're
all the way up."

Kind of like the hokey-pokey. You put your toes in; you roll your stockings
up; you put your toes in and you pull it up some more. You do the
hokey-pokey and you work out all the bumps. That's what it's all about.

Once out at the fence, Anna Marie studied me with her flashlight again,
having me turn backward and side to side as she did. She even had me do my
usual slow stroll from first base to centerfield on the opposite side of
the hedge trellis. I slept that way, dressed in her clothes. I can only
imagine what my dad would have said if, for some reason, he'd come out and
found me that way. I suppose I worried about it, but, frankly, by that
point, I'd done so much that getting caught sleeping in girl clothes hardly
seemed to be a thought anymore.

I gave her back everything the next day in exchange for clean panties. Red
silky ones this time. Although I suppose they were actually more of a
polyester-blend than actual silk. With black hearts all around the waist
and a black satin bow in the front. Standard girl panties, you know.

I wore them all day. I felt different in them. I felt, oddly, more
confident. I didn't have the best relationship with my father, as you might
have figured out, but somehow, sitting around wearing my little secret
right there in front of him just gave me a sense of joy and happiness. I
guess I would describe it as a sense of amusement. He had no idea. Whatever
he thought of me, I knew he was wrong. If he thought that my date with Anna
Marie meant something about me reaching out and beginning to embrace
manhood, he was wrong. Okay, maybe if he thought I was some kind of wimp or
sissy, he was a little closer to the truth. But I doubted he knew how much
further it went that direction than what he was thinking.

There was just this sense of accomplishment. A sense of freedom. Kind of
like I was being delivered from some form of oppression. It was my secret,
something he'd never know about, and something he couldn't take away from
me. Even if he called me Runt. It just made me feel different. Like I was
finally doing something on my own. Like I was finally being who I wanted to
be instead of being who I thought someone expected me to be. It was
liberating.

We left early Sunday morning to go back to Utah. I made sure to give Anna
Marie back all her clothes the night before when we saw each other for what
had become our nightly meeting at the fence. She gave me some panties to
sleep in, and said I could keep them as a souvenir. A going away present.
They were gorgeous. Royal blue satin bikinis. Okay, I know, they were
really polyester, but they shimmered like satin and felt like satin, so
what's the difference? What matters is that I loved them.

We kissed one last time, there at the fence. Not so much a good bye kiss -
for we were both still a little too young for that - as just a kiss to
remember the things we'd done together. As she had instructed me, I opened
my mouth after our lips touched, and we again took turns putting our
tongues in each other's mouths.

And after I'd felt her boobs for a while, she pulled her top up and let me
look at them. And touch them some more.

And then we said goodbye.

That night, the night before we left, I saw that UFO again. It came from
the opposite direction this time, rising up over the house on the corner
and angling off to the northeast. I knew Anna Marie was on it, so I waved.
It flickered its lights off and on once in response and then disappeared.
Anna Marie's way of waving back.