You do as you are told.

You sit there for a moment, unmoving, he sternly says, “Do it.”

“Okay.” You say and click the switch. The top of the box opens and you peek in. A writhing mass of tentacles lashes out and wraps around your head. You try to pull back but they wrap up every inch of you till you are basically mummified by the purple mass of tentacles. You are sure it has stripped you naked or simply dissolved your clothes. Suddenly you sort of feel it inside of you, and not as if it was penetrating you, more like it is now sort of growing inside of you. Then as fast as it happened, they vanish.

You blink and open your eyes, the world is blurry. Your little slender fingers feel around you and find a pair of glasses as if you knew they were there. “Fuck I feel so...” You can’t pick the right word. You actually feel fine just something isn’t quite right and you can’t quite place what it is. You wiggle your toes and stretch your whole body before hopping to your feet and making your way to the bathroom. Plopping down as you kick off your tiny thong that seems to be covered in odd purple goo, “Eew.” You say as you use the toilet. Tossing an equally filthy midriff baring tank top you finish and immediately get in the shower. Scrubbing yourself you can’t help yourself as you begin to play with your perky nipples, “Oh wow, have they always been this big?” You can’t help but cup your breasts in your hand, “Fuck this feels so good. I’ve got to stop or I’ll never get to work.”

Images of yourself as a secretary of some interstellar police force flood your mind. You grab your head and feel a very soft buzz cut. “I know my hair was longer, right?” You turn off the water and grab a towel. As you dry off you can’t resist the urge to spend a little to much time on your tight little pussy. Another image flashes in your mind of a woman, a doctor, slowly licking your pussy as she probes your asshole with a long green glowing dildo. You stand in front of the mirror brushing your perfect teeth and watching as your cute silver tongue stud moves about in your mouth. Finished you spit and rinse then quickly zap yourself with a makeup wand and you have subtle smoky eyeshadow, eyeliner, and a bit darker and slightly glossy lips. You give your nose ring a little tug, you sort of remember getting it, yet it feels new at the same time.

Just then your com rings and you instinctively answer it, “Damn it Brianna where are you?” Somehow you know it’s your boss, Captain Montana of Nova Securities. A glance at the clock tells you that you are 45 minutes late.

“Oh I’m sorry, I think someone slipped something in my drink last night. I feel really weird.” You say, your mind swimming with memories that somehow feel new like someone planted them in your head.

“Do you need us to come get you? I can send a car.” He asks sounding concerned.

“Maybe you should. I’ll get dressed.”

You hang up and go to get dressed. Looking around you can see you aren’t actually in a hotel room like you we sure you remembered checking in yesterday after you arrived. You are in a one bedroom apartment on at least the 20th floor of a very tall building. The place is immaculate and the furnishings all seem rather new. A memory of picking out the long black couch fills your mind. You shake your head and go to the bedroom. Picking through the drawers and closet you choose your outfit and get dressed. A lace black demi bra, thong panties, and cute pink no show socks are where you begin. Over this comes a pair of skin tight low rise black leggings and a red dress that is ever so slightly sheer so you can just barely see the black underneath.

Your novacom announces that someone named Vance is downstairs and you grab a black suit style jacket with several pens and a small computer tablet in the front pocket. Slipping it on it is heavier than you would have expected, “Oh its armored.” You say as you grab your keys, and slip them in a pocket. Grabbing a small wallet you head out the door.

Just then it occurs to you that your id’s should be right in there. An overwhelming urge hits to see who you are as if suddenly you weren’t sure. Fear slows your hand.