You wake up

You awaken, with a headache and feeling a little woozy. Trying to get up proves impossible, as your wrists and ankles are being held down somehow. Opening your eyes slightly, you can see you're being held down by metal clasps on a table. Looking around, you see you're in what looks like a doctor's office, and you see two people talking, a male and female. The male seems somewhat familiar... you keep your eyes barely open, trying to get some, if any, information on what's going on.

"So he saw you?" inquired the woman. (He? Is she talking about me?) you wonder.

"Yes. I was in the process of assimilating her into one of us, when he showed up. Luckily F-S-23 was in the area. She was able to put him down." (So that's where I saw this bastard. He was that guy **** the girl in the alley. But what's he talking about, "one of us"? And what the Hell is this F-S-23 crap?) Your mind races as the conversation continues.

"What happened to the girl?"

"I'm not sure. I wasn't able to finish the process completely. If she's still on the streets, another one of us may have found her. I think M-F-17 was out that night..." (Again with this letter and number crap. Some sort of code?) "Do you think he was in league with the resistance?"

"No. He wouldn't have been alone." The female chuckled. "Speaking of which, I'd like to see if we can't change him."

"I'll be leaving then." The male turns and leaves the room through a door behind him. The woman walks over to you, and pounds the table with her fist, hard. The loud noise causes you to let out a cry of "Ahh, damnit!"

"Good, I see you're awake." The female smiled. Now with your eyes open, you can get a better look at her. She's dressed in a revealing shirt that comes down in a V to show the tops of her breasts, and a short black skirt, along with matching black shoes. Her red-You've seen her somewhere before... now you remember, she looks just like Trish Stratus from the WWF. But you know for a fact she's doing a show in Canada.. so who the Hell is this?

"What the fuck is going on? Get me the fuck off this table!" you demand.

She gives a sensual laugh. "I take it you don't know the way of things.. let me inform you. I am F-F-03, but you can call me Trish. No, I'm not her," as your lips start to move, "but I'm essentially the same."

"What the Hell.. what the fuck does F-F-03 mean?"

"The first letter is the sex of the unit. The next is the skill, whether it be -F-ucking, -S-ucking, or -T-easing. There's also -A-nal for the male-types and -B-reasts for the females. And the number is like a serial code. Did you get all that, John?" she purrs.

"Wha.. how the Hell do you know my name?" You're starting to get a little bugged out. "And what the fuck is all this talk about units and skills and crap?"

"It's not important how I know who you are." She smiles. "As far as the units.. I'm part of a gentically mutated group of people who can turn you regular folk into one of us by infusing some of our altered DNA into you through sexual acts. Most of us are just mindless soldiers, following orders blindly. But the first ones - like myself -have a decent intelligence. So we know just how to get you to the point where we can change you."

"Why are you telling me all this?" you asked warily.

She grins evilly. "I figured you'd want to know before you became a mindless sex soldier. Speaking of which..." she runs her hands over her large breasts, closing her eyes and sighing. She then opens them and looks towards you hungrily. "We'd better get started."

"Stay the fuck away from me, bitch!"

(Holy shit!) you think to yourself. (She may be a damn sexy bitch, but if this shit is true, well, I don't think I'd like being a mindless sex drone. But I really can't do shit held down to this table..)