Paige Spiranac, Hottest Female Golfer on the LPGA Tour
Paige Spiranac, calidissimus Female Dirigendae in LPGA
“It is jet-black. A shade of black so deep, your eyes just kind of slide off it. And it kind of shimmers when you directly look at it. An elongated spider, big as death and twice as ugly. When it flies past, it’s like you hear a scream in your mind.”—Warren Keffer, describing a Shadow Vessel
Addressability resumes …
To dither: colloquial usage. Formal usage: super bit mapping (SBM). Dithering is science’s non-magical version of gateless travelling, and, as such, is instantaneous and you arrive before you leave therefore it’s untraceable.
Somehow, a month into the expedition being onsite, things have gone sideways, which is why Number Seven has been dispatched to the latest Starfleet archeological dig by the Borg Queen. Tasked with unearthing the why, the who, and the how, she’s here to investigate.
So … Without any fanfare, whatsoever. Number Seven dithers so slick into the dig site that she literally “slides” almost undetected into existence—i.e., the robotgirl phases into the normal space/time continuum. From departure point to arrival point, arriving before she left, having travelled an inch through a quantum warp corridor.
She’s in the CNC. The command-and-control room appears to be empty. The black site is a joint venture of Starfleet (Section 31), SS Paranormal, and the Smithsonian Institute. But oversight is Starfleet, so it’s a Starfleet operation, nonetheless.
Any commercial partner(s)? Yes. There are two. Kill Command. They are supplying the SAR units. And, a silent partner, alluded to earlier: The Borg Collective.
Based upon away team protocols. No longer looking like she’s dressed way too young and Steampunk for her age. This is a Number Seven who, on the surface, is more akin to an Alice Quinn. This is Seven-of-Nine ostensively in her role as Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One.
Prudz in place of those long kid gloves. Perls in place of that big diamond choker. Thinz in place of thick-readers. Strait hair in place of a Grune. The bottoms from that snakeskin two-piece of hers, with the bottoms worn underneath her fishnet tights, as if for modesty. In place of the bikini top is a hand-bra. No Parts. But, everything else, especially psychologically, is the same.
The brassiere. A bra, short for brassiere or brassiére, is a form-fitting undergarment designed to support or cover a woman’s breasts. Bras are designed for a variety of purposes, including enhancing a woman’s breast size, creating cleavage or for other aesthetic, fashion, or more practical considerations.
Hand-bra. A parasite. A devious contraption, by its very nature. Of murid permutations. It looks like one of those nightmares birthed by the fertile mind of H.R. Giger. Hans Ruedi Giger is a Swiss painter, best known for airbrush images of humans and machines linked together in a cold biomechanical relationship. This particularly nasty flavor of pushup bra is constructed from two oversized elderly female severed hands; veiny liver spotted skeletal hands that have been fused together. Normally, the hands have been hacked off of a convicted thief who was executed by hanging. In this case the hands are exact prosthetic reproductions, with the one notable exception that they’re that pale sickly-grey color normally associated with a Borg’s complexion. On the back of each hand is a large nipple and its surrounding areola—large, freakish, succulent, sickening, lickable, suckable. Her large breasts are compressed, bulged, torqued, and presented in the expected pushed-up-and-straight-out serving which further deepens her already deep cleavage. Mauling and mutilating, the torturous bra vice-grips her, digging the long-ragged fingernails of its hands into her lily-white flesh. Its hands are tit huggers for her milk white orbs—i.e., its bra cups are the equivalent of a Xenomorph facehugger. In the palm of each hand is a slit mouth filled with razor-sharp serrated teeth. Mouths with well-educated killer tongues. Mouths that fit over her ripe nipples. Mouths that feed, suckle, bite, and chew. Sheer agony and pure delight. Wearing your atonement. The atonement for sins and for pleasure via self-mutilation and the cilice. The hand-bra is both your cilice and your proxy for self-mutilation.
Xenomorph facehugger. Known taxonomically as Manumala Noxhydria and designated a “Stage 1” Xenomorph by Weyland-Yutani scientists, is a parasitoid form of the species Xenomorph XX121 that hatches from an Ovomorph. It is the second stage in the Xenomorph’s life cycle, and exists solely to implant a Chestburster within a host creature via their mouth. As such, it has no real offensive capabilities (beyond an ability to spit acid, which is generally only used to gain access to hosts and not for attack) and must rely on stealth, surprise or their victims being previously immobilized by an attacker to achieve implantation. Notably, a Facehugger dies shortly after its task has been completed.
Thinz. Another kronos device. They are thin readers, but with a Kate Spade Joyann 0S4P Burgundy Black Transparent eyeglass frame in place of the usual Kazuo Kawasaki 704 frame. Thinz also have functionality that dwarfs that of regular smart glasses. Much of which, just like dithering, is of anonymous propriety design—i.e., no one knows, or at least no one admits to knowing, who is the tech’s inventor.
Strait hair. That severe, outdated, very unbecoming hairdo. Long, straight, golden tresses framing a hard, pretty face. Parted down the center. Poker straight hair worn sleek, minus the lift with a bit of backcombing at the crown needed to achieve the smooth, rounded bouffant of a Grune—i.e., the hair lays flat on the crown of the head. It is not the long, flowing, voluminous hairstyle of the Grune, the mopp, and that ilk. It is simply let down without any styling. In a word: severe. The pre-Goth hairdo popularized in the 1960’s by Morticia Addams a fictional character from The Addams Family television and film series. Although it was worn in the 1950’s by TV and movie starlet Vampira who was the so-called “mother of Goth”, its appeal never took off back then with the general population for obvious societal reasons. It can easily be yanked up and back into a sternka.
Two more dithers. Her black fishnet body stocking and her snakeskin bikini top materialize. One beside the other. The bra at shoulder height.
Gravity defying. Just standing there all by their lonesome. Filled out, just like they are being worn by an invisible person who’s frozen in place—i.e., FSFF: free standing and fixed form. A low-cut black fishnet body stocking. If the girl were wearing it, coverage would include her hands and fingers. And. That snakeskin bikini top which doubles as a torpedo bra.
Upon putting on the fishnets, it will self-activate, fusing seamlessly to her body, rendering her coverage prosthetic—i.e., Transfiguring her, just like EXO. Technically and colloquially, it’s known as LITE. It does not offer her the same ballistic and DEW protection as EXO. But. It clearly is much more revealing, which is the intent and purpose for wearing it in lieu of an EXO.
She walks over to her newly arrived smartware. And promptly sheds her prudz, boots, blazer, skirt, tights, and hand-bra. Her mutilated tits quickly and completely heal themselves, including growing back their succulent nipples. Gone is any evidence of her huge knockers being brutally and violently fed upon by her hand-bra.
Number Seven slips on her bikini top. It’s a fully boned, underwire bra. Therefore, the pushup presents her knockers in the same contemporary projectile fashion as her hand-bra did. Contemporary projectile? Yes—i.e., rounded instead of pointed bullet bra cups.
As “good” underwear should. The bikini top and bottoms, functionally and literally a bra and panties, mask her nipples and her crotch. In effect, neutering her.
Next, she slips on her LITE, at that point the robotgirl becomes as prosthetic as Number Nine. Prudz are slipped back on, and worn over her LITE.
Dwelling on the subject, intentionally. A sheer, not opaque, low-cut cleavage-baring fishnet bodystocking. LITE does not afford her the same opaque masking as EXO. Wearing it means that her body is unmasked. Therefore, if she were wearing LITE, and not wearing any appliances underneath, you would see telling anatomical details—e.g., her nipples and “private” parts.
Appliances? Her bikini top and bottoms. Worn underneath her LITE, smartware performing their roles as underwear aka unmentionables.
The peepshow is short-lived, though. Blazer, skirt, and boots follow suit. Slipped back on, and worn over her LITE. The hand-bra and tights are left behind. Side by side. The hand-bra at shoulder level.
Gravity defying. Just standing there all by their lonesome. Filled out, just like they are being worn by an invisible person who’s frozen in place. The hand-bra and black fishnet tights.
Being smartware, all of her ware is self-cleaning in hygiene mode, keeping clean the ware and its wearer. And is self-repairing.