On the elevator ride up I pondered how strangers might react to what we publicly call “the office”. They’d probably think they’d stumbled into an episode of “Breaking Bad” and call the FBI. By the way private labs are always referred to as “the office” or “the store” to deflect unwanted attention from larcenous junkies looking for drugs.
As I stepped out of the elevator I took a moment to admire my second home. The former factory was jammed with chrome-plated machinery and polished glassware, all gleaming under the soft muted light of twenty huge salt-water aquariums housing my live specimens. The combined hum of machinery with the bubbling of the aquarium filters gave it a peaceful, Zen feel. It was nice place to spend every waking hour… which I pretty much did.
Denise was at her station pouring over data. After tonight’s disappointment I envied her naturally thin physique and wondered how she kept it considering she ate enough licorice every day to keep the “Twizzler” company in business.
She gave me a puzzled look, “Hey Shelly, I thought you had a big date tonight?”
“It ended earlier than I expected,” I said, barely hiding my frustration. I walked over to the aquarium housing my prize specimen, “Any progress on our expectant father?”
“Nothing yet, but Bob should be birthing within the next twenty four hours.”
Before you decide I’m some wanna-be “Doctor Mengele” let me clarify that my “live specimens” are all Hippocampus; more commonly known as seahorses. There are a thousand reasons seahorses’ are ideal for genetic research… and they’d all bore you senseless. Oh, the expectant father thing isn’t some weird gender experiment I concocted. Male seahorses naturally carry the fertilized eggs.
We called our prized seahorse Bob, because using cartoon character names makes our scary work seem all warm and fuzzy. I’d genetically altered Bob through Gene Shooting with a mix of actual gold and light emitting jellyfish DNA. The process transformed him into a radiant golden seahorse that was a sight to behold. But he wasn’t just a pretty face; the alterations had also made him resistant to toxic pollutants and bacteria that could eventually make seahorses extinct. Unfortunately being a golden glowing seahorse was like wearing a neon sign on your back saying, “Hello predators, please eat me!” But then Bob did something in response that defied all the laws of genetics.
I tapped lightly on the aquarium glass and Bob shut off his golden glow, like a light switch.
Denise smiled at me, “Can’t resist making Bob do his trick can you?”
“Sorry, but it still amazes me. I mean we made him glow, but that must have triggered some forgotten component in his DNA…”
“That allows him to turn the glow on and off” Denise chimed in, “something no known species is capable of.”
I realized I must have said the same thing a thousand times, “Hey, if I wanted a parrot…”
“… You’d genetically engineer yourself one!” And we laughed, because that’s what passes for humor in a genetics lab. See why we never get invited to the cool kids parties?
We had analyzed DNA samples from Bob in his glowing and non-glowing states. For all intents and purposes they were entirely different species- a scientific impossibility. Here’s a simple explanation of why that can’t happen. Over thousands of years a grizzly bear can evolve into a polar bear, because a white bear can hunt more successfully in the arctic. That’s all part of natural selection… thank you so much Charlie Darwin. But a grizzly bear cannot evolve into a mountain lion because he doesn’t possess the right genetic raw material. No creature can become two species at the same time. But somehow Bob had done just that… though it would have been way cooler if he was a grizzly bear that glowed in the dark.
I stared at my genetic wonder pony, “Pretty soon we’ll find out if he’s passing his superpower onto the next generation. If he doesn’t that means he’s a one of kind mutation, if he does we’ve created a dual species… so hurry up and give birth Bob, cause you’re killing us here!” Needless to say Bob didn’t respond, so I scrambled around for something to occupy my mind. “Did we hear anything from ‘Fearless Leader’ today?” That was the clever name I’d given our mysterious benefactor.
“Yeah, three emails” Denise replied, sounding bored, “But all the same thing, ‘inform us the moment anything develops’. They’re really chomping at the bit aren’t they?”
“Yeah… whoever they are.”
“Does it ever worry you?” Denise asked inquisitively, “I mean not knowing who we’re actually working for, or why they want this research done?”
“No… maybe… sometimes. But we’re not doing anything that could be weaponized or harm anyone. If we succeed we’ll be able to eradicate genes that lead to cancer, or preserve endangered genes of animals heading for extinction. We can help humanity and the animals we’ve almost destroyed. Deep down I hope that our benefactor shares that ideal.” I took a moment to ponder my deep thought, “Plus, how many people can order a Genetic Sequencer or Indonesian Jellyfish DNA and have it arrive the next day… no questions asked? That’s pretty sweet.”
“I guess it beats academia where you have to blow the dean just to get Xerox paper.”
“Exactly, and please, never blow anybody for Xerox paper, cause you might still run out of toner.”
Feeling restless I turned on the flat screen monitor. When I get frustrated I’m like a teenager on too much Ritalin; I need some background distraction. I channel surfed to the all news network, “Let’s see if anything important happened today, like World War Three, or Kim got a boob job.”
It was business news, which usually bores me… except when it’s about Jonas Nilsson. Maybe it was because he was incredibly handsome, or because he was worth over a billion dollars or because he was a genius with a slight but very sexy European accent. Who am I kidding? It was because he was an incredibly handsome-billionaire-genius-with a sexy accent. Call me superficial.
Nilsson had been on the cutting edge of every tech development for the last decade, and today he was unveiling his company’s latest consumer breakthrough. It was a mobile device light years ahead of the competition. According to the news his stocks had just risen from very high to orbiting around Jupiter.
Jonas Nilsson stood before a crowd of media, marketing executives and techno groupies. He wore an impeccably tailored suit, his hair showed traces of silver that enhanced his piercing gray eyes. I read somewhere that gray eyes indicate a personality that doesn’t visualize the world in black and white but understands the subtle nuances other’s miss. It’s considered a sign of inner strength, analytical thinking and leadership. Being a genetics geek I know it means that a recessive ocular gene came to the forefront during fetal development… Did I mention that we don’t get invited to cool parties?
“Today we introduce a revolution in personal technology,” Nilsson said with practiced confidence, “But more importantly it is a breakthrough in communication, a way to unite people across the globe allowing them not only to share voice, images and messages but also their thoughts, hopes and dreams. Communication is the only thing that can unite humanity, bringing us closer to a new age of enlightenment. I hope that in some small way we will contribute to that enlightenment.”
His charisma was undeniable. I flashed back to college literature courses, recalling Anthony’s speech from ‘Julius Caesar’ ‘I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him’. Anthony took a simple eulogy and used it to turn Rome against Caesar’s assassins. Nilsson was taking a retail gadget and using it as a clarion call for peace and unity. I hoped that deep down his message was sincere.
Denise must have noticed my schoolgirl crush expression, “He’s a fascinating man isn’t he? I mean to have accomplished so much so young?”
“True, and most people don’t even know about his real breakthroughs. I mean half the stuff orbiting the earth uses his technology. Hell half the stuff in this lab probably has his fingerprints on it.”
The news report shifted to the public per
sona of Jonas Nilsson. The exotic car collection, the luxury villas, the private planes he piloted himself and, of course, the endless parade of supermodels and Hollywood starlets that hung on his arm.
“See,” I added, not hiding my annoyance, “Why do they only focus on the cars, girls and planes?”
“I guess when someone’s that powerful people want to know about him.”
I shook my head, “But that stuff’s all image, I’ve never seen anything that defines the man himself. Even his company biography only lists his place of birth as Sweden… how vague is that? He could be a damn Volvo for all we know!”
Denise just grinned.
“Not that I spend hours studying him, I’m just saying… ” But my justifying babble trailed off.
To be honest I’d studied Nilsson intensely, and not just because of his looks and wealth. There was something commanding about him; the alpha male personified. Even on television his gaze went right through you like a shot of truth serum. But those piercing gray eyes somehow seemed… haunted. Jonas Nilsson was like looking at the pyramids; a solid object and a mystery rolled into one.
“So you do find him interesting?” Denise asked, pressing the issue.
“Honey I would definitely blow him, no Xerox paper required. So now that I’ve confessed can we get back to work? I mean you’ve only been here sixteen hours for goodness sake.”
I shut off the monitor and the sudden dimness revealed that Bob’s tank was now filled with sparkling lights the size of pinheads. There must have been three hundred newborn “fry” whirling around, exploring their new world. The proud poppa seemed to be glowing brighter than ever.
I looked at Denise and nervously approached the tank, the moment of truth. I raised my hand and gently tapped on the glass. Three hundred glowing fairy lights snapped off as one.
Almost shaking I turned to Denise, “We’ve done it, I don’t quite know how but we’ve created a dual species!”
“A shifter,” Denise said in whispered reverence.
I had never heard that term before, “Well I guess you could call them that. Okay, we should leave them be and file our report. I hope fearless leader is sitting down when he gets it.”
The next two hours was a whirlwind of data compilation, email messages and burnt coffee. By midnight we’d transmitted all of our findings. Fifteen minutes later we received a three word email reading “congratulations, sleep well” followed by silence.
“I guess we’re done for tonight,” I said to Denise, “So why don’t you go home, I’m going to wrap up a few things.”
Even the inexhaustible Denise looked beat, “No argument from me, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” She picked up her bag and headed for the door.
“Technically it’s already tomorrow morning, so get some sleep and come in around 1:00PM.”
As soon as she left I realized how exhausted I was after such an emotional roller coaster of a day. Despite my success an odd melancholy fell over me when I realized I had nobody to share this momentous day with. It was as if “Eleanor Rigby” won the lottery, with nobody to tell. The thought of driving home to an empty condo just made it more depressing. I decided to take advantage of our insanely comfortable leather sofa on the upper level and the bottle of white wine lurking somewhere in the refrigerator.
After pouring myself a glass I decided to get comfortable. I stripped down, enjoying a wicked thrill from being naked in my own lab. I glanced over at the full-length mirror in bathroom. I was a big girl, but I took care of myself, exercised and had a pretty awesome level of cardio fitness. My size was who I was… genetics if you will. I was not ashamed of how I looked, it was my body and I took proud ownership of it.
I emptied my glass and lied back on the sofa. Closing my eyes I reflected on the day that was, and the day that could have been. If Craig had continued holding me, pressing his lips harder, hands restlessly exploring, pushing the boundaries of public affection. Instead of going home we would come back here where I’d proudly display my handiwork. I’m ready to show off my precious creation but when I turn to Craig… he’s gone. Another familiar voice echoes through the room.
“You’ve created something that can benefit all mankind.”
I turn, amazed to find Jonas Nilsson standing in my lab. He walks towards me, all poise and confidence. Touching my shoulder as he says, “We share the same dream of creating a better world.”
“How did you find me?” I ask, stunned.
“I’ve been watching you, following your work and your life. I’ve been searching for someone like you,” and he leans forward, kissing me gently, caressing my head in his strong hands.
My body is responding, nipples hardening as a warm sensation spreads through my panties. He’s experiencing the same thing, his breath is shorter and I can already feel his erection growing, pressing against me.
We kiss again, deeper and his hands roam freely, caressing my breasts. I loosen his tie, tossing it to the floor and unbutton his tailored shirt. I struggle with removing his French cufflinks but I eventually master them and they drop to the floor. His chest is solid, lean defined muscle honed by endless rounds of tennis, or polo, or whatever the hell billionaires play. I kiss his nipple, inhaling a trace of some subtle, exotic cologne mixing with his own manly smell.
Jonas unbuttons my blouse, hands stroking my cleavage lightly as electricity surges through my body. I moan as his lips kiss my chest and his hands expertly unfasten my bra. Seconds later my breasts are free, cupped in his hands. Well, not cupped exactly cause those puppies are big. I have a killer pair of tits by the way… you girls know what I mean. Now he’s moving faster, overcome by desire as his tongue rolls across my breasts, savoring every dimple on my areola and finally sucking on my hard nipples.
My hands roam downward, rubbing his hard cock through his pants. Lowering his zipper I reach inside and his body tenses with delight as I caress his thick penis. We kiss again, deeper, and then I kneel down, sliding his pants to the floor. He has a beautiful, thick cock. I giggled for a moment when I noticed he was uncircumcised… remember he’s European. I’ve never played with an uncut penis, so I take a moment to playfully slide his foreskin back and forth. By his breathing I can tell he doesn’t mind me exploring.
I take real joy in oral sex, maybe it’s because I deny myself so many traditional snacks, or is it the thrill of total control? Sliding back his foreskin I run my tongue around the head savoring the salty taste of pre-cum. Then breathing through my nose I let it slip down my throat. His hands are caressing the back of my head, fighting the urge to push on it, but he lets me do the driving. After a few minutes of oral bliss he pulls me up and kisses me again, deeper… if that’s even possible.
He leads me to the leather sofa and gently lays me down. He unbuttons my pants and slides them off, revealing my red panties. I prefer the lacy boy-shorts style, trust me, they’re flattering for a bigger girl. He kisses the inside of my thighs and heat radiates through my crotch. His tongue probes further, kissing the outside of my panties. My body shakes with electric jolts at each touch of his lips. In a flash my panties are off, and his face is buried between my legs, his tongue hungrily probing my hard clit. The shakes are becoming constant, the fire inside burning hotter until I can’t take any more.
“I want you inside me, please Jonas,” I gasped, not ashamed to beg.
His chest slides across mine until we’re face to face. He kisses me again as I arch my back allowing his hard cock to slide into my pussy, muscles twitching with each thrust, faster and faster. I feel his hot breath panting on my shoulder with each thrust. Our bodies are in perfect synch and I sense it building until my back arches and my body stiffens grinding against his cock. Then a wave of bliss washes over me as I cum and cum again. He can feel the heat from my pussy radiating as he moans in ecstasy, releasing a load of hot cum inside me. Our bodies entwine, crushed together tighter than I ever thought possible. And then we release our grip, spent, happy. We lie side by side, spooning in sil
ence because nothing needs to be said. Then I blissfully slip off into darkness.
I snapped awake. How long had I been asleep? I’m alone, fully aware that my billionaire tryst was a dream… but what a dream it was! Then I heard a sound… someone moving around downstairs. Shit, I think, Denise must have come back again, that girl should get a life. Oh wait; maybe I should get one to. I fumble around in the dark, finding an old Mariner’s t-shirt I keep lying around. I know I’ll never get back to sleep, so I lightly pad down the stairs… and my blood freezes.
Two men are tearing through my files, jamming hard drives and preserved specimens into black shoulder bags. I can tell they’re not run of the mill burglars. They know exactly what they’re looking for. I backed up quietly, but stumbled on the step behind me alerting them to my presence. One sees me and we lock eyes for a millisecond then he reaches into his jacket drawing a pistol.
But I’m fast for a big girl and hit the floor as the gunshot echoes through the room. The aquarium above me explodes, raining salt water and shards of glass down onto me. I keep moving, guided by innate survival instincts. Another shot fires. More glass, more water. I glance down and in that fleeting second see poor Bob twitching on the floor, his golden sheen fading. I crawl along the wet floor; my only advantage is knowing the layout intimately.
The second man has joined the hunt and a cascade of bullets strike around me. I never experienced true terror until this moment. I jump up, running towards the door when a sledgehammer blow strikes my shoulder. Balance lost, I tumble to the floor, knowing I’ve been shot. Adrenaline keeps me moving, staggering towards the door. The intruders approach me with terrifying casualness. Why waste bullets killing your prey from twenty feet when you can do it nice and close? I realize my life is about to end.
Suddenly the steel entry door bursts inward as if struck by a cannon. I looked over and saw a four-legged shape leap through the doorway with blinding speed. It was massive, like a German Sheppard on steroids. It attacked the closest man, knocking him to the floor, his pistol firing harmlessly into the air.
Paranormal Curves (BBW Collection) Page 9
