Deal or No Deal, How much is a Dream Worth?
This story is fiction and is intended to be treated as such. It has harsh language and deals with Transgender themes. If this would offend you please stop reading, I don't want you to go blind! Thanks to Janet, HER and Paula for the rush job in Proofing but of course any mistakes are mine. This is a different type of story from my others so keep an open mind please. Batteries are not included some assembly is required.
Mark had huge butterflies about this meeting, but the sooner begun, the sooner it would be over. Mr. Bix skittered in on its multiple legs with its six eyes waving covered with pseudo sunglasses. Its green, fur lined, broad brim hat with its bright feather was a shocking contrast with the orange leather coat it wore.
Things just hadn't been the same since the Galactic Organization for Trade and the Celestial Help Association had made contact just a short year ago. Representatives of various Galactic businesses had set up offices on Earth and had embarrassingly used old film and TV characters as templates on how to conduct affairs here.
Mr. Bix was dressed in a very misunderstood Alien version of a nineteen seventy's Pimp. Wasting no time, he placed the aluminum brief case on the table between them and slid it towards Mark. “So Bitch, Deal or No Deal?”
Mark cleared his throat. Just a year ago he would never had taken this kind of verbal abuse, but here in the GOT & CHA trade embassy, it was their rules. “My attorney and I have serious problems about the terms of this contract.”
Mr. Bix scratched himself where a human's sexual organs would be, but who knows with Aliens. “Yo, what's your problem, Whore? It states that in return for paying you one million Zulac's, you will be transformed into a female employee of Biz's Traveling Extravaganza, the finest sex show touring this Galactic Arm. The Bimbo-morph-ifer will make you a super-fine piece of Ass. You'll be everything a G-Woman ever wanted with big firm Tits, a great Ass, and legs all the way to here.”
Nervously, Mark pointed out, “That's part of the problem. According to the fine print, even my personality and memories may be erased or altered at your whim. Not only that, but the terms of employment is open ended giving no set time limits for return of the original personality or re-payment of the debt.”
“My attorney advised me to trash this thing because this is nothing more than selling myself into sexual slavery with no opportunity for freedom. What would be the use of being rich if I have no memory of it?,” Mark finished.
Mr. Bix gave a nasty laugh, “Yo, you got a fine attorney there, Bitch! The best scams are always the ones in purple and puce . You know you T-Bitches want it bad. What more would a breeder want, Whore?”
Mark replied, “How about a loving partner and a family to raise and nurture? What about love and compassion as part of a lasting relationship?”
The little Alien gave a dismissive wave of its tentacles, “So, Bitch, Deal or No Deal?”
Mark shook a little, “No Deal,” and slid the case back to the Pimp.
Mr Bix took its case, rose and left the room ignoring the tears leaking from the human. It loved these recently contacted worlds with low tech. T-Bitches were always so desperate for what it could offer that it never had any problems meeting its quota. So what if this one turned down the Deal? There would always be others.
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