The Professor tried to appear relaxed. He needed to be silent. To learn what they knew.
"Greetings, Herr Doktor." The woman said. Now that she stood in the light, the Professor saw she was dressed in a tight black uniform. The NAZI armband was around her sleeve. Had he not been terrified, he would have acknowledged that she was a very attractive woman. She walked over, her broad hips swinging, and sat down at an unadorned table.
After a minute, he realized she meant for him to join her. He got up, and pointed to the hand cuffs that held him to the bed. "Kinda stuck here." He said, keeping his tone light. keep her at ease, he thought, don't let her know that I know how bad this is. She gasped. Maybe a little too loudly to have been genuine. "I swear," she said as she got up and walked over. As she got close and began to lean forward, his mout fell open. Her breasts, so large. They strained against her jacket. She bent forward and their soft mass covered his thighs entirely. She had to know she was doing this. She paused, looked him in the eye with a smug, superior expression. Then she straightened.
"I told them you weren't to be treated like a prisoner." She made a pouty face. "I hope this didn't hurt too much." The Professor steadied himself as he dropped from the bed. "No..." he began, only to pause as he saw her. She was...tall. Tall was the only word. She stood, her prominent chest just above his eye level. He looked down and saw that those black boots did not have a heel of any kind. "ehem!" she said. He backed up, afraid he had offended her and ashamed he had been physically attracted to one of her kind.
"I'm glad to see you aren't a sexual deviant, sir." She smiled, obviously pleased. "It would be a shame if the first living man on this earth since 1948 was not suitable." That drew him short. Everything, this whole seduction the bed and table and even the handcuffs. It had all been for a purpose. These people, whoever they were, had outsmarted him.
"And she said I'm the only man alive since 1948?" He thought. How could that be possible. He was again disturbed by a noise. This time of a metal chair sliding on the floor. Looking up, he watched as she dragged it out and sat down. She kneatly folded her long legs and steepled her hands. Then with a confident, cool look she waved him over. "Have a seat, Professor Stone, we have allot to converse about." She pulled off her cap, and put it down on the table. Her long, raven black hair cascaded down her back. She leaned forward with a hungry look on her beautiful face. Her sharp, blue eyes glinted with intellect and fierce interest. She said, "Let's start with what you are, where you come from and how you got here."
He moved forward, trying to hide the growing pit deep in his stomach. His name. How did they know his name? Does that mean that they had recovered the machine? Do they have Megan! "How," he began as he sat down. "Do we know your name?" she responded, leaning back. She appeared satisfied at having rattled his composure. "When we found you in the desert, you in the desert. You were mostly naked, but you still managed to clutch a piece of clothing. Your lab jacket. On it was a photo ID. Dr. Stone, Professor of quantum mechanics at Cal Tech." She paused, letting him digest her words.
"I'm, uh, when you found me. Was there anyone else...?" he asked, realizing as he said it, it was a mistake to ask. "No," she said, flat. "Should we have?" He thought, searching quickly for something to say before finally answering, "No, I guess not." Wrong he knew as soon as he saw her face. That was the wrong thing to say, and the worst attempted cover ever. She leaned forward with a look of anger and disapointment. He was too slow to move and she grabbed his upper arm. With a stern look, she squeezed, her face showing zero effort. And soon pain shot through his arm. He winced at the pressure. Strong, she was stronger than he was by far. Stronger than any woman he had ever met. Then again, she was over three feet taller than any woman he had ever seen. After he began to cry, she finally eased up a little. "Listen to me, little man." She hissed out her words slithering and menace evident in every syllable. "The worst thing you can do is lie to me." He was beginning to wonder whether she would break his arm. Her long fingers circled his arm completely and he could feel the vice like grip strengthen a little. "I'm the only friend you have, so think really hard about what you say next." She released him, causing him to gasp in relief.
He sniffed a little. With an apologetic look he rubbed his arm and said, "there was....a woman. But she fell. I don't know if she's even alive. She wouldn't be on your world though." His interrogator smiled. "Good," she stood up and walked around to him. He flinched, but she didn't hurt him. Instead she began to massage his shoulders. Her hands completely covered them, coming down his chest. Another side to her size. He tried to resist but she was like magic. "Isn't that better," she asked, "Isn't honest so much more...pleasent," she leand in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
As she straightened she spoke softly into his ear. "Listen, it isn't safe to talk here. Feign weakness, go to bed and pretend to rest. Say nothing else." He stiffened and looked at her. For the first time since she came in, he felt he saw the real her. He saw fear.