That's Not My Wife
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It should have been a perfect anniversary trip for me and my wife Deborah. She’d booked the remote cabin for us, and before it got dark that first day, we’d gone on a mile hike through the woods. We came upon a clearing, and that’s where we discovered the alien craft. I wanted to leave, but my wife wanted a closer look. She began walking around the vessel’s perimeter, and was out of my sight for only a moment when I heard her scream. I rushed to her and found her mouth covered in a pink slime that seemed to be forcing its way into her mouth. I didn’t know what to do as she convulsed for a full minute, but then sat up. She smiled at me, but it wasn’t her usual smile that could light up a room. It was cold, calculating, and predatory. After a pause, she spoke with an awkward cadence, as if she were speaking English for the first time. “Sorry, human, I mean… ‘dear.’ I fell, but I am fine.” I wanted to panic, or to be really sad. But instead I pushed all emotion down, and helped her walk back to the cabin. It took twice as long because she kept losing her balance until the halfway point. But then she seemed to get it. In fact, the more time passed, . But the more time passed, the more she acted like herself. But I knew better. When we got back to the cabin, she found her phone and stayed on it the whole time, reading anything she could find about the local state of our world. When it was time for bed I said as casually as I could, “I’d like to try something a little kinky tonight in the bedroom if that’s okay?” She stayed silent for a few seconds as she processed what I meant. A sly grin formed on her mouth, and she said, “Of course, darling. It is our anniversary after all. In fact, I brought a special garment just for this occasion. I will go put it on for you.” She went into the bedroom to change. This also took longer that it should have, which was helpful, because I slammed down two shots of bourbon to work up the courage for what I needed to do. “I’m ready for you!” she called. Her voice sounded so normal now. Like the woman I married. I stepped into the room and there she was, looking so provocative nothing but a pair of black stockings and crotchless panties. I pulled out two pair of handcuffs I’d procured from my bag. They were the real deal, and would hold as long as they were attached to something solid. “Here, give me your wrist,” I said, trying to keep my steady. She held out her wrist, and I slapped the first bracelet on it. I quickly attached the other cuff above her head to the sturdy bed frame. She tensed and asked, “What is the meaning of this!?” I shrugged and said matter of factly, “It’s that kinky thing I was telling you about.” She calmed at my explanation and said, “Oh, yes, of course.” She allowed me to cuff her other hand to the bedframe as well. When she was secured, I stepped back and looked at Deborah, or the thing that used to be Deborah. “You can drop the act,” I said angrily. “I know you’re not her.” My wife’s eyes narrowed for a moment, but then she smirked. “Darling, don’t be mad. It’s not like your wife is completely gone. I mean, I look like her, don’t I? I sound like her. Smell like her. And I think you’ll find, I fuck like her too. See for yourself,” the thing teased as it spread my wife’s legs, revealing her wet pussy.
“It’s not like I can get away, so please, make love to me one last time before turning me in to your authorities.”
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need a second part
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need a second part
@wanyaromanoff if I could find who that actress is, I would.
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