Chapter #8An alien skinsuit by: Yote   The queue of passengers delayed at the security checkpoint as your dad is inspected all gawp and smirk as the official holds up what is clearly a high-end skinsuit, a full-body garment made of synthetic flesh designed to alter a person's appearance. It is evidently female, though of an inhuman, deep blue pigmentation blue. There's been a lot of negative press in the media recently of the use of such devices - mostly of perverted old men using them to engage in bizarre, kinky sex - and it gives you no end of satisfaction seeing your dad on the receiving end of mockery after the weeks you spent being laughed at around school for dressing as a girl. A few people in the crowd snap photographs on their phones, and your father's face blazes red.
"Look.... I can explain... you see, me and my son are going on a trip together..." -murmurs of disapproval- "... and we like to dress up..." -gasps of disgust- "N-not like that! Just for fun! We're off to a convention this year. You must have heard of Comic-Con?"
The flat expression on the official's face indicates that he has no idea what a "Comicon" is, nor does he care. He grinds his teeth. "Sir, what you and your son do in your spare time is no business of mine. The security of this airport and its passengers, however, is. Now I can hardly allow you to board a flight with an identity-altering-item in your possession. FUCT guidelines are very clear on the matter. The potential for swapping identities mid-flight is a risk to flight safety and to the integrity of border control. However..." He paused to suck air through his teeth, to demonstrate what a huge favour he was doing. "... I can allow you to wear the device onto the plane so long as you agree to the disabling of the suit's release mechanism until landing, fill out form AT58, and agree to a Deep Flesh Scan."
Dad blanches. "Wear it? But the suit is for my son, shouldn't he be the one to wear it?" he pleads.
"The suit was in your luggage. Either you wear it yourself or you leave it here to be returned to you once you return to the country."
Dad sags in defeat and shrugs, taking the skinsuit and reluctantly beginning to strip. A few cameras flash across the security checkpoint as he tugs off his shirt to show his flabby, hairy chest. You laugh. So he'd intended you to be the one in the suit, once again playing the role of the girl while he got to be the big damn hero. You relish the humiliated look on his face as he kicks off his shoes and trousers and slips his bare feet into the clinging skinsuit. The suit is a little too small, sized for you after all, and he grunts as he works it up his body, sucking in his gut to get the skin over his belly. As the cowl is pulled into place over his head, the suit contracts, clinging to his body like a second skin for only a moment before his outline starts to morph, condense. His gut is sucked in, his waist cinched. His arms and legs shrivel and taper, the spare mass almost seeming to run to fill out the chest.
The transformation seems to incapacitate him long enough for two security guards to seize his arms and bend him over the X-ray machine, while a third steps up behind him, pressing a handheld device tight against the zipper that runs up the spine of the suit and squeezing the trigger. The zipper peels away from the suit, leaving the "skin" smooth and unblemished behind it, and your dad trapped inside it. The official slips the zipper into an envelope. "Don't worry, Mister Anderson, the release mechanism will be waiting for you at San Diego once you land."
The guards release their grip. When dad speaks, his voice is breathless and weak, and oscillating between different pitches as the suit attempts to modulate it correctly. "It better be," he gasps, clutching his crushed waist. He seems in some discomfort, limping through the Deep Flesh Scanner. A laser beam runs down his altered body, and a picture of his insides shows on a monitor, showing clearly his pink insides squashed inside the thin curvaceous blue skin enveloping him.
He now looks just like:
Mystique: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/co...
A Twi-lek: http://janmi.com/wp-content/uploads/2014...
An Asari: http://loschaos.com/wp-content/uploads/2...   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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