CONTAINMENT: BUILDING 9 - FIRST CONTACT

CONTAINMENT: BUILDING 9

FIRST CONTACT

**2:47 PM - Apartment 2B**

Sophie Park had always loved lazy Sunday afternoons, but none had ever felt quite as perfect as this one.

She stepped out of the shower, steam curling around her petite frame like silk scarves as she wrapped herself in a plush white towel. At twenty-six, she'd finally found the kind of life she'd always dreamed of: a job she loved as a freelance graphic designer, a girlfriend who made her laugh until her sides hurt, and a cozy apartment in a building that was just cheap enough to be affordable but nice enough to feel like home.

The afternoon sun streamed through their gauzy curtains, casting everything in a golden glow that made even their secondhand furniture look expensive.

"Babe?" she called to Maya, who was sprawled on their weathered leather couch, laptop balanced on her knees. "The water pressure's being weird again. Felt almost... tingly?"

Maya Torres looked up from her case files, her dark eyes crinkling with amusement. "As long as it's not ice cold like last week, I'll take weird pressure over Arctic torture any day." At twenty-eight, Maya had the kind of steady presence that made her perfect for her job as a social worker. She was the calm one, the planner, the one who remembered to pay bills on time and schedule dentist appointments six months in advance. Sophie was the dreamer, the creative chaos to Maya's methodical order.

They balanced each other like yin and yang, light and shadow, passion and patience.

Sophie padded across their small living room, her bare feet silent on the hardwood floor they'd refinished together last summer, working side by side until their backs ached and their hands were raw. She'd lived with Maya for two years now, and the comfortable domesticity still made her heart flutter. Simple moments like this felt like tiny perfect miracles she'd never learned to take for granted.

She curled up beside Maya, reaching for her favourite mug on the coffee table. The tea inside was still warm, Earl Grey with honey, just how she liked it. Maya had made it for her an hour ago, before Sophie's shower, the perfect girlfriend ritual of care and consideration.

The first sip tasted... different.

Not bad different. Just... unusual. Sweeter than usual, with an almost metallic undertone that made her tongue tingle like she'd licked a battery. She licked her lips, frowning slightly. It was an odd feeling... Just a strange, chemical sweetness that seemed to coat her mouth and make her gums feel warm and swollen.

"This tea tastes weird," she murmured, but took another sip anyway. The tingling spread, a warm buzz that seemed to flow down her throat and radiate outward through her chest. Not unpleasant, exactly. Just... odd. Almost electric, like bubbles dissolving under her skin.

Maya glanced at her own mug and took a sip. Her brow furrowed as the strange taste hit her tongue. "Mine too. Kind of... fizzy? Did you use different water or something?"

"Just tap water, same as always." Sophie drained half the mug, chasing the strange sensation. The tingling was growing stronger, spreading. It felt almost... pleasant. Tingly and warm and slightly electric, like being gently electrocuted by happiness. "Maybe it's the honey? I bought a new brand at the farmer's market yesterday..."

But even as she spoke, something else was happening that had nothing to do with honey.

The towel around her chest felt looser, like she was somehow... smaller inside it. She tugged it tighter, confused and slightly alarmed. Had it stretched in the wash? That didn't make sense. It was practically new, and she always air-dried their nice towels.

And Maya. Sophie blinked, staring at her girlfriend with growing confusion, looked different. Older, somehow. Her cheekbones seemed sharper, more defined, her jawline more pronounced. The laugh lines around her eyes looked deeper, more established.

"Maya? Do you feel... strange?"

Maya set down her laptop with hands that seemed larger than they'd been minutes ago, her fingers longer and more elegant, like a pianist's hands. Her tank top was pulling tight across her chest, the fabric straining in a way it definitely hadn't been when she'd put it on this morning. The cotton stretched tight over curves that seemed more pronounced, more womanly.

"I feel... warm. Really warm. And..." She paused, pressing her hands against her head as if trying to hold her thoughts in place. "Kind of dizzy? Like I stood up too fast, but I've been sitting here for an hour."

Sophie giggled. It sounded younger than her normal laugh, almost childish, like a teenager who'd just heard a dirty joke. "Sorry, I don't know why I-" Another giggle, followed by another. Soon she was laughing helplessly, one hand pressed to her mouth, unable to stop. The laughter felt good, felt right, even though she had no idea what was funny. Like her body had decided to be happy without consulting her brain first.

"Sophie? What's-" Maya's words died as Sophie's towel slipped, revealing what was happening underneath.

Her girlfriend's body was changing.

It was subtle at first... A softening of angles, a smoothing of muscle definition that Sophie had worked hard to maintain through thrice-weekly yoga classes and weekend hiking. But as Maya watched, transfixed and horrified, Sophie's breasts grew rounder, perkier, defying gravity in a way that seemed to mock physics itself. They'd always been small. A-cups that Sophie had been self-conscious about since high school. Now they were swelling, filling out, becoming perfect handfuls that belonged in men's magazines.

Her waist turned inward while her hips flared slightly, creating an exaggerated hourglass that looked almost cartoonish. Her face... Christ, her face was shifting, features becoming softer. The sharp intelligence in her eyes was clouding over, replaced by something wide and disturbingly vacant.

Younger. She was getting younger. Not just looking younger, but actually regressing, like time was running backward inside her skin.

"Oh fuck," Maya breathed, her own voice deeper than it had been moments ago. Richer, more mature, carrying an authority that seemed to emerge from somewhere deep in her chest. "Sophie, look at me. Really look."

Sophie's giggles faded as she focused on Maya's face with the intense concentration of a child trying to solve a puzzle. Her girlfriend looked... powerful. Sophisticated. Like a successful woman in her forties who owned a wine bar and had very specific ideas about what she wanted in bed and how to get it. Her dark hair had gained elegant silver streaks that caught the afternoon light, and her body had filled out, but in a way that screamed sex and power. Womanly. Commanding.

Maternal.

"You look... like, really hot," Sophie whispered, her voice pitched higher than usual, breathier, like she'd been running or crying. The observation should have been alarming, her girlfriend aging a decade in real time while she watched, but instead it made her feel warm and fluttery inside. Safe. Protected. Like she was looking at someone who would take care of everything. "Like, really, really hot. Like someone's sexy mom... A mommy milf..."

The words hung in the air between them like a confession.

Maya's breath caught. The phrase sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core, and with it came a flood of sensations and thoughts that didn't belong to her. Confidence. Authority. A bone-deep certainty that she was in charge here, that Sophie was hers to guide and protect and... use. The urge to take care of Sophie, to make decisions for her, to keep her safe and happy and satisfied and obedient.

"That's because I am," Maya heard herself say, the words emerging in a purr that seemed to come from someone else's voice. Someone older, more experienced, someone who knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it. "I'm exactly who you need me to be, baby girl."

Sophie's eyes went wide and glassy, her pupils dilating until only thin rings of brown remained around pools of black. "Yes," she breathed. "Yes, you are, Mommy."

The word hit Maya like a physical blow, and the last of her resistance dissolved away completely.

The transformation accelerated with frightening speed.

Sophie's proportions shifted like putty being molded by invisible, expert hands. Her legs lengthened slightly while remaining delicately slim, the muscle definition she'd built through years of yoga melting away into soft, smooth curves. Her ass rounded into a perfect heart shape, higher and tighter than it had ever been, defying gravity. Her skin took on a flawless quality, every freckle and blemish fading until she looked airbrushed.

Her hair lightened several shades, taking on an artificial platinum blonde colour that caught the afternoon light like gold. It grew longer too, growing past her shoulders in waves that looked professionally styled, like she'd just stepped out of an expensive salon. Most disturbing of all was her face, features rearranging themselves into an almost doll-like perfection. Pouty lips that looked naturally bee-stung, a button nose that belonged on a Christmas ornament, eyes that seemed permanently widened in innocent surprise.

She looked like a college freshman. Barely legal, designed to trigger every protective and predatory instinct simultaneously.

Meanwhile, Maya's body was moving in the opposite direction, each change bringing her closer to a fantasy of mature feminine authority. Her frame broadened, gaining several inches in height until she towered over Sophie's diminishing form like a protective goddess. Her modest B-cups swelled into heavy, full breasts that strained against her top until the fabric finally gave way with a soft ripping sound. They were magnificent, round and firm despite their size, with dark nipples that had grown larger and more sensitive.

Her hair darkened to a rich black that seemed to absorb light, and somehow styled itself into elegant waves that framed her face like a magazine cover. Crow's feet appeared at the corners of her eyes, not aging so much as adding character, gravitas, the kind of lines that spoke of experience and wisdom. Her lips filled out, becoming sensual and knowing. Her body had curves now, real curves: wide hips, thick thighs, and an ass that demanded attention and respect.

She looked forty-five. Maybe older. A woman who knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it, who'd raised children and run boardrooms and fucked men into submission.

"I feel so silly," Sophie giggled, running her hands over her transformed body with obvious delight. "Like, really, really silly? But also really... tingly? Down there?" She gestured vaguely at her pussy, which had become a neat, pink slit that seemed to glisten with moisture even though she hadn't touched it yet.

Maya's new maternal instincts warred with a surge of raw, predatory lust. The social worker part of her brain, the part that was still Maya Torres, MSW, who helped troubled families and filed reports and believed in consent and boundaries, screamed that this was wrong. Sophie was regressing, losing herself, becoming someone else entirely.

But the new part of her, the dominant part, the *Mommy* part that had taken root in her transformed brain like an invasive species, knew that this was exactly right.

This was what Sophie needed. What they both needed.

"Come here, baby," she commanded, her voice carrying an authority that made Sophie instantly, unquestioningly obedient.

Sophie practically bounced across the couch, settling in Maya's lap with her arms draped around her girlfriend's neck like a child seeking comfort. This close, Maya could see that Sophie's eyes had changed colour, shifted from brown to bright blue, like coloured contacts. But natural, biological. Her lashes were longer, darker, framing those wide innocent eyes like a doll's.

"I love you, Mommy," Sophie whispered, the word slipping out naturally, as if she'd been saying it her whole life. As if every other form of address had been wrong, and this was what she'd been searching for without knowing it.

Maya's hands found Sophie's waist, marvelling at how tiny it had become. She could almost wrap her fingers all the way around, could span it with her hands like she was holding something delicate and precious. "I love you too, sweetheart. Now be a good girl and kiss Mommy."

Their lips met, and the last of their old selves dissolved.

Sophie tasted like honey and something else, something chemical and sweet and addictive. She kissed like a teenager, eager and sloppy, all tongue and enthusiasm with no finesse or technique. Maya took control immediately, one hand in Sophie's platinum hair, the other gripping her ass, guiding her, teaching her, showing her how a good girl should kiss her Mommy.

"Slower, baby," Maya murmured against her lips, her voice a low rumble of authority. "Let Mommy show you how it's done. Let me teach you everything."

Sophie whimpered and obeyed, melting into the kiss like butter in a hot pan. Her small hands clutched at Maya's shoulders, seeking anchor points in a world that had suddenly become wonderfully, terrifyingly simple. She was so small now, so delicate. Maya could pick her up with ease, could position her however she wanted, could do anything to her and Sophie would just smile and say thank you.

The thought made her wet.

"Mommy," Sophie gasped when they broke apart, her lips swollen and shining. "I feel so weird. My head feels all fuzzy and light, like... like I can't think about complicated stuff anymore? But I don't wanna think about complicated stuff. I just wanna make you happy and feel good and be your special girl."

"You do make me happy, sweetheart." Maya's hand slid between Sophie's legs, finding her soaked and ready, already dripping with need. "And you're going to make Mommy even happier. Would you like that, baby?"

"Yes, Mommy! Yes, please!" Sophie's hips bucked against Maya's hand, seeking friction, seeking more. All shame, all hesitation was gone. She was pure need, pure eagerness to please, a creature designed for pleasure and service.

Maya carried her to the bedroom. Actually *carried* her, with Sophie's legs wrapped around her waist like a koala, and laid her out on their bed. The same bed where they'd made love as equals just last night. Where they'd talked about their future, their plans, their dreams of opening a design studio together someday.

That Sophie was gone now. That future had been rewritten.

This Sophie spread her legs without being asked, her fingers playing with her own nipples, her blue eyes glazed with lust and trust and something that looked disturbingly like worship.

"Please, Mommy," she begged, her voice high and needy. "I need you. I need you so bad it hurts. Make the aching stop."

And Maya, the new Maya, the Mommy Maya, the woman who'd been born in the last thirty minutes, gave her exactly what she needed....