Male Alien

By reflex, you check to make sure the "blaster pistol" -- a ridiculous-looking toy space gun that you've wrapped in aluminum foil -- is still in the waistband of your silver jumpsuit.

You're managing to talk over the loud music to a woman in a skimpy cheerleader costume and a blonde wig. A few extra pounds aren't doing her any favors, but she's still reasonably attractive.

"Well, you're the most human-looking alien I've ever seen," she says.

Playing along, you say, "I'm in disguise, obviously, so I don't stand out while I'm observing this planet."

"Then what about those things on your head?" she asks.

Unconsciously, you reach up and touch the headband to which are attached two glittery silver balls on springs. "Unfortunate," you say. "They are an artifact of my cyborg-enhanced brain."

"And what about the sunglasses?"

"These aren't 'sunglasses,' these are shielding humans from my eyes -- they can have interesting effects on you."

"Ooh," she says. She glances down at your crotch. "Is your disguise complete?" she asks pointedly.

Just as you open your mouth, a window near you slams shut, and the music suddenly stops. A voice cackles, sounding as if it's coming from all around you.

"Wow, cool," says a woman standing near you dressed in a pink leotard, a pig's nose held over her real nose with an elastic band.

The voice proclaims, "So, my warning was not heeded after all! Fine, then. Allow me to demonstrate my curse's might! Everyone currently in here will be trapped and **** to transmute into the very beasts they disguise themselves as! Furthermore, you all will be **** to enact your base impulses of lust. This is your punishment for defiling my culture. Now, begin your suffering!"

The cheerleader says, "Whoa, this is --"

A sudden flash of light blinds you, and a whine fills your ears.

You blink. Blinking? Ugh, such a shame that humans have yet to figure out how to genetically engineer themselves to avoid such "design flaws" as having to perpetually re-lubricate their eyeballs.

The whine leaves your ears, and now you can tell that the humans in the room are all screaming and crying and making odd noises for some reason -- oh, fascinating, it appears that their bodies, and even their clothing, is being altered. It's obviously not under their control, since they are quite far from having this technology.

As best they could, those who programmed your brain gave you the normal responses to stimuli of a 18-year-old human male, and so you feel yourself growing aroused at the sight of the cheerleader you were recently conversing with. That is because you can see the fat disappearing from her midsection as her breasts grow larger within the top of her outfit. It appears that the blonde wig has somehow become the natural hair that grows out of the top of her head, and it's growing longer. She has seemingly grown taller, but a quick inspection shows that her previous footwear has changed into what you believe are called "calf boots" with high heels.

Yes, it's clear that she has been altered to be even more appealing to human males, with her hourglass figure and --

She finally makes a coherent sound. "Like, my tits got huge! What happened?"

"Je ne sais pas," you answer. She looks at you with what you recognize as a confused expression. Your brain instantly calculates that you spoke in the wrong human language -- you were programmed with all the known ones, of course, and they all sound so similar to each other.

"I don't know," you say in the correct language, "at least not yet."

She appears to be in some pain and is holding a hand to her temple. You take note of the long manicured fingernails that were not like that before. Another odd feature of the human body. "Like -- oh, my God, it kinda hurts to think."

There is still noise coming from all around you. What is the problem with these humans?

The female who was dressed as a pig is now fatter, wearing no clothes whatsoever, her nose and mouth having grown out into a pig's muzzle, the human ears gone from the side of her head with pig ears poking up through her hair from the top of her head, a curled tail emerging above her buttocks cleft, four pairs of breasts on her torso -- but it appears that she's most upset about the fingers on her hands having grown together to make her hands look more like pig feet.

Behind you, a male who was dressed as the human mythological creature called a "gnome," complete with a red conical hat and a white beard, seems to be moaning about his newly rotund stomach, or perhaps the fact that his legs have shortened drastically, to the point where his genitalia may be brushing against the ground -- fortunately, he's still clothed in blue overalls.

"I can't move!" screams a female voice. You turn to see a woman with yellow flower petals surrounding her face, her body naked and green, her legs having grown together just below her genitalia, rooted in the soil of a large clay pot. She can move, judging by the fact that she's flailing the top half of her body, but she continues, "Somebody help me! I can't feel my feet!"

She's getting more and more hysterical. You pull the blaster pistol out of your waistband and fire it at her. Instantly, she stops screaming, as she's temporarily stunned -- you estimate that the blast strength will stun her for one one-hundredth of an Earth day

"What the fuck did you just do?!" exclaims the gnome.

You utter an oath in your home world language -- to humans, you know, it sounds like a burst of static -- and turn to look directly into his eyes, which means you have to look downward several feet. You pull your sunglasses down and order him, "Don't worry about it."

His expression changes, and he goes right back to obviously worrying about the changes to his body.

Finally, you can turn your attention back to the cheerleader, who is standing there with a vacant expression on her face. "I believe that in addition to the changes in your body, your mind has been altered to make you into what you would call a 'bimbo,'" you tell her.

"Huh," she says, and then, "Like, what?"

You look around and realize that, despite the transformation of their forms, most of the people in the room have become very obviously aroused, with some in the early stages of human sexual intercourse. The pig-woman, in fact, is now lying on the ground, clumsily using one of her appendages to manipulate her genitalia, the other running across her many breasts. Even through her heavy makeup, you can tell that the flow through the cheerleader's facial blood vessels has increased -- she's "flushed," in other words.