Evolve

The girl will only slow you down. You amass the monumental energy you'll need, you hunker down, you focus.

Slowly, silk-like strands begin to come leaking out of the human's aching sex. It starts with one, but with each passing second more and more come crawling out, starting to weave into shapes. The process is slow and complex, but you are no amateur. Within an hour or two you've started to take a recognizably human shape, albeit an incomplete one. In another hour, you begin to pass for human.

The paralysis is starting to wear off. The human blinks and clutches at the air, freezing when her skin touches yours. She looks into your eyes slowly, face frozen in fear again. You press your hand over her mouth, holding her fast to the bed. You can't let her risk everything, not when you're this close.

Your body begins to fill out the last contours and crevices of a human form. Your brain shifts wetly out of your old worm-like body and up into your new head. You look down at the girl with human-like eyes. You smell her, feel her.

She screams, but your hand muffles it. The final steps are the quickest and most exciting. You shift your old body into your new tool for impregnation. You don't even have to change the size, it should fit perfectly snugly into any partner you want it to. You feel imitation breasts filling out on your chest, a set of testicles filling with potent alien seed. You drink in some of her memories through skin contact, in the process changing your hair and eyes to better resemble hers. Her eyes go wide.

You inaugurate your new body by pulling your cock almost entirely out before driving it back in, bashing her cervix. She screams again, eyes rolling back into her head. She pounds on your new torso, the slight pain of her weak blows only fills you with greater vigor. Feeling pain again is a bright and refreshing thing. You accompany it with another deep thrust, meeting the sensation with a wave of pleasure. The room is filled with the sounds of wet filthy noises and muffled screams. Every time the girl looks up and sees she's getting fucked by what seems to be herself she holds her eyes closed as if not looking will make it go away.

You whine as you bury yourself inside of her, releasing your seed almost directly into her womb. Her voice gives away mid-scream, turning into a pitiful mewling whimper. By the time you finish your release, her stomach distends slightly. You pull yourself out with a singular wet sound. The seed that comes trickling out evaporates almost instantly, but the majority stays inside.

You lean in and plant a kiss on her lips, in a few seconds, she falls back into her bed. Tomorrow, this will all be a bad dream. One her mind and body may never fully recover from, but a bad dream nonetheless. You stand up off of her bed, realizing you may have gone too far in a few places. You're probably at least a few heads taller than the girl was. This species isn't sexually dimorphic, at least not dramatically, but you're likely to be the tallest female anywhere you go, and one of the taller males. Your imitation breasts are bulging and fat, the way that the girl wishes hers were. Your cock slinks into your body slowly, fully disappearing and forming a penetrable slit like the girl's.

You step over to the girl's dresser, looking for some clothing. Quickly, you realize that very little she owns will fit you. Ultimately, you find a long white dress with a blue denim vest. The vest is likely baggy for her, for you it is tight and bracing. The dresses that for her hangs to the floor goes just below your knees.

You don't even bother looking for undergarments, even if you found some that fit, they would be an obstruction. You manage to find a pair of oversized working boots, they'll do. Perhaps you'll leave her with a more scant wardrobe as well as some confusing memories.

You quietly slip from her room, out into the living area. The electronic box that was showing images earlier now only broadcasts static. You can hear the stillness of the house, there will be no better time to leave.

You recall one of the memories you "borrowed" from the girl and step over to a dresser beside the main door. You grab a metal key from the bowl on top, then step out. The night is bitingly cold with how sparsely dressed you are, but soon it will become debilitatingly hot.

You unlock the door of the vehicle with the key, sliding inside onto the cushioned driver's seat. The girl recalls the button to start the engine, so you do in turn. You find it, just where she remembers it.

The engine sputters a few times before finally turning over and starting. You conjure every single memory related to the operation of these things and pull it reeling out of the dusty gravel driveway. The process of operation is harrowing for the first few moments, but quickly becomes nothing but a muscular operation. When you pull onto a paved road, you're faced with a right or left fork. Deciding that either road will eventually lead to where you're going, you pick left. Deciding to put the telltale signs of the sunrise at your back.

Even pushed to maximum output, the vehicle wheezes and puffs its way along the road. As the sun climbs up into the sky, several vehicles pass you by, screaming past when no longer trailing in your wake. It doesn't take long until the pitiful engine sputters and gives a dying groan. You step outside, the sun hanging overhead is becoming oppressively hot. You open the hood of the vehicle, already knowing full well that you have no clue of how to fix it.

You stand at the side of the road near the unusable vehicle. Fortunately, at this time of day, traffic is moving quickly. It doesn't take long for another vehicle to stop near yours. It's a boxy thing, much smaller than your old one. There are a set of red and blue lights on the top. It stops fully, the driver taking a moment to make some notes before he climbs out.

"Car break down sugar?" The man asks.

His outfit is dark blue, championed by a silver badge. What the girl would call an officer of the law, a policeman, a sheriff. He's wiry to the point of skin and bones but carries himself with physically unearned confidence. Especially considering his head only comes up to your armpits.

"This old thing always breaks down, Sheriff" The girl's voice sounds weird to parrot, it sounds like each syllable has been cut from a different sentence.

He seems to notice how awkward your speech is, "You not from around here?"

"No, out of town."

"Sounds pretty far out to me, where you from and where you headed?"

You pause, coming up with somewhere exotic and somewhere close. "Germany, I came to visit Roswell."

"You ship that old hunk of junk in from Germany too?"

You realize too late you've been caught in your lie. You didn't consider the details of what you were saying. A rookie mistake.

You put on innocent eyes, "Won't you help me, sheriff?"

"Why don't I drive you into town?"

"Oh, thank you."

You didn't think he'd bite that easy. However, you get a decent way down the road before the locked doors and radio mention of a suspect tip you off that he might not actually be giving you a free ride.

You need to think fast. You could either take him by **** or try to seduce him. If you take him by ****, it would attract a lot of attention but you could have his vehicle and any weapons he has. As well, you may be able to use them and his uniform to get some more supplies by pretending to be a sheriff. If you seduce him, you could get him to take you into town, but you'd be on your own there.

Of course, you could also just let him take you where he wants. It's not like anything there proves much of a threat to you.