It's Alive

by S. L. Carpenter

  As she sat in the cafeteria, sipping on her fresh cup of espresso, she took a long, deep cleansing breath. Inga had left already because she had a date with a pair of nymphomaniac Vietnamese lesbians. The cases were pretty much wrapped up, and Mary figured another hour or two and she could leave. In the quiet, she started to daydream.

  Perhaps she should call Peter back. See if he’d be up for a date. She had left him asleep with a bag of frozen peas on his balls. He had a shiny glaze on his lips from eating her out, and was snoring from exhaustion.

  Maybe he could be a steady fuck buddy. He had great equipment and sure knew how to use it. She wondered what it would be like to be in a somewhat normal relationship.

  She reflected on all the different men and sexual partners she had been with in the past, and went back even further in her memories. She’d never been the most popular girl in school. Most women geniuses tended to be shunned and even though she had the looks and social skills, dealing with the arrogant divas in college fraternities wasn’t her bag. She tended to be drawn to the lab rats and nerdy guys who understood intelligent thoughts instead of football scores. The ones who boasted about the notches on their headboards from all the girls they gave drugs and alcohol to so they could fuck them then brag how good they were.

  A few times Mary had fallen into relationships but mostly she wound up in disasters.

  Brad had been the guy every girl wanted to be with. He played football, was boyishly handsome, popular and—rumor had it—was any young girls dream in the back seat of a car. When she was in her first year of college he was a junior, and scouts were already looking at him for the pros.

  Mary fell under his spell in class when she sat next to him. She let him cheat off her papers because that smile made her heart melt and her panties wet. She wasn’t the type to go for the fantasy guys. In fact she hadn’t gone for any guys up to that point.

  Being a virgin in college was almost as much of a sin as being the college slut. The line between the two wasn’t wide at all. Girls needed to be wholesome and pure but know about sex and giving blowjobs and maybe some anal on a special occasion.

  But most guys steered away from the girls known to be walking nymphomaniacs. The ones who usually spread diseases when they walked past a guy and had scabies and crotch lice leaping off their pussies. It was a known fact that a dude would have to be covered in a full body condom and have a major dose of Lysol over his jewels before entering the hazardous waste dump.

  Mary tried her best to walk that thin line.

  Brad took her virginity as a bet in college. He posted nude photos of her on the Internet after slipping her a roofie and fucking her when she passed out on a set of bunk beds in his dorm room. The images of her with a Barbie doll in her ass were the worst, but he had the softest hands, perfectly sized to hold her, and he took care of them because he was a tight end.

  However, she got some form of revenge a couple of years later. Brad came out as gay and was gang-banged by an opposing team after losing a bet. Now he’s a wide receiver.

  She was shaken out of her daydreams and memories by the loud ringing of her cell phone. Answering it, she heard the alert—there had been an accident and the ambulance was bringing in a couple bodies that needed to be set up for identification.

  Another quiet night interrupted by death.

  She led the guys in and glanced at the three gurneys covered by sheets heavily stained with blood. This was a sloppy one. “Just put them over there.”

  The other men rolled the gurneys in a row and left, except for Rob who was the senior ambulance driver and often talked to Mary on nights when he dropped off bodies and the lab was slow.

  “This one is going to be tough, Mary,” one of the guys said on his way out.

  “Why?”

  He shrugged left as Rob pulled the top sheet off to reveal a pile of various body parts. “Really bad accident with some guys in a Jeep. They hit a freeway wall and were thrown from the car into a tree excavation unit that was clearing off some dead trees on the side of the highway.” Rob held back a gag as he showed her what was left of the other victims.

  “It’s like putting together a puzzle.” She said not blinking.

  As she gazed over the massive pile of body parts she gasped. “Oh my God, that’s Peter.”

  “Who?”

  She reached in and pulled out a cock from the pile. “This is Peter.”

  “Yes it’s a peter. There are a lot of names for the male genitals.”

  “No you idiot, it’s Peter, a guy I met.”

  “How the hell can you tell it’s somebody you know from a dismembered dick?”

  “Oh, I never forget a cock once I’ve had it. And this man was special. Look it’s still hard.”

  Rob put his hand over his mouth and ran out, puking into the garbage can after seeing Mary rub the blood-soaked cock on her cheek and moan with her eyes closed.

  She felt sad because she had liked Peter. Not just because he had an odd shaped cock that rubbed her G-spot. Not just because he could make her come like a geyser in Yellowstone park. Not because he was into all her kinky side quirks like talking like a baby so she could breast-feed him.

  He was just a real nice guy. But as usual, something had come between her and a nice guy. This time it was the fact that he’d been chopped up into little pieces. She couldn’t win.

  But she had a job to do, and from then on she did her best to piece the parts with the corresponding torsos. What most people would feel squeamish about never bothered her. She believed that everyone is made of the same stuff, just in different amounts and sizes.

  She clicked on the recorder. “After completing analysis the CoD—sorry, cause of death...” She clicked off the machine for a moment. “Fuck, there were a lot of pieces. Hope I got them right because every part has a story. Look at that guy’s cock there. He only had one testicle. There’s gotta be a story there. And this one here has a penis the size of a child. He probably couldn’t get laid unless he paid for it…paid a lot.”

  She sighed and continued her formal report, “Cardiac arrest due to multiple organ failure, and caused by severe trauma.” She looked around. “The bodies are assembled and basically ready for identification.”

  Mary tilted her head and thought a second in silence. Clicking off the recorder she felt a strange expression curl her lips. It would be kind of fun to take the best part of different men and make the perfect mate.

  In life there are things that can trigger brilliance or jump-start extreme idiocy.

  For Dr. Mary Shelley, this was one of those moments.

  Chapter Three

  Her time was now devoted to the research she needed to better understand, before building the perfect beast. Something like this would make her infamous. She would be known everywhere for such a discovery.

  If it failed and people found out, she would be ruined and considered a freak of scientific horror. That was something she couldn’t comprehend or let happen. So she knew she had to get it right.

  Mary’s life had always included medical discoveries that rivaled those around her. While applauding her brilliance, her peers had envied and despised her on many occasions.

  Personal relationships were never her strong suit and she admitted that she had terrible luck with men. She was so tired of going from man to man and being let down or disappointed in some silly way, and yet she still dreamed of finding a wonderfully caring, compassionate, wealthy, brilliant man with the perfect cock.

  She didn’t think that was asking for much? Just a nice guy with a cock the size of a Pringles can.

  She could do some nerve and vein surgery to make him last forever and stay hard. This way he’d always be there and ready whenever and for however long she desired him. She knew there were more than a few procedures out there that would accomplish this…in fact she’d designed one or two herself.

  Her superior intelligence helped her create various experimental ways
to improve the male body. She had dabbled with male-enhancement-engineering and devised an automated erector. But no matter how far or how much she tested, she was left unfulfilled and needing to go further. Her flirting and letting the night shift guy at the bag-and-tag unit have three pairs of her pink lace undies, her favorite Coach purse and a full-on-rim-job after screwing him with a twelve inch strap-on dildo assured an unending supply of body parts for testing.

  Mary almost had one device perfected. It worked like a garage door opener but with thin fibers inserted in the walls of the penis. They would inflate, swell, then be adjusted. She had wired a few accessories into the head of the cock, and planned a small remote control for the miniature speaker and vibration unit tucked neatly inside. For an added bonus, it was preset to speak in five languages and she was thinking of adding an outlet for a MP3 player.

  I bet you can’t buy that at Target!

  She had tested her first prototype device on a live subject.

  It didn’t work too well, because one of the guys accidentally crossed two circuits so when it was supposed to make his penis erect—it did the opposite, inverting and retracting into his body.

  Author’s Note: Surprisingly, this event was viewed it as only a partial failure, however, since the device was immediately adopted by a different medical field, and there is now a new way to effectively complete trans-gender surgery.

  Jerry—I mean Janet—is doing well.

  Mary really was just annoyed by the lack of suitable partners in her life. So many men she knew looked at her and just wanted to jump her bones. She liked sex but the guys really weren’t her type. She didn’t need perfection, just someone that was easy on the eyes, funny, smart and really well hung. She started thinking about some of her colleagues.

  Trevor Monaghan was a psychologist on staff at the hospital and a borderline genius. He could mind-fuck most people before they knew he’d said hello. He liked to boast that all he left was a reamed out hole in their head and a small wet spot around the left ear.

  However, he wasn’t what most women would call great looking. In fact on a scale of one to ten, he was probably straining to reach a three. And the only reason he’d get ranked that high was his mouth full of perfect teeth, obtained by wearing braces for six years and inventing a whitening agent that actually worked. He stood a lofty four foot nine and three quarter inches tall, and weighed close to two hundred and fifty pounds.

  For a couple of years he had tried flirting with Mary and asking her out. His poor personal hygiene and abundance of body hair were a major turn off. As was his bad toupee and the acne marks from his teenage years.

  But even worse were his manners, and his bad habit of continually dropping change in order to look up her skirt with the mirrors he had glued to the top of his large shoes. She tried to picture seeing him naked, but the gagging reflex and thought of him doing anything sexual ended that in a hurry.

  Putting all these physical issues aside, he always gave Mary a satisfying intellectual challenge. They could spar back and forth about almost everything and converse on the same level. Maybe she led him on a little by wearing low cut tops and leaning over a lot, and going commando whenever she felt bad for him and knew he’d be trying to look up her skirt. She tried to feel guilty, but then again she did like the attention.

  Setting him up with Inga was a good idea that turned into an epic fail. Inga ended up hooking up with his sister in Trevor’s mother’s bathroom. Pretty much everyone agreed it wasn’t a good thing to get caught in a shower using the showerhead as a clit massager while finger-fucking each other.

  Author’s Note: Trevor really doesn’t have anything to do with the story but I thought it was funny to talk about him. It will give you an insight into the types of men in Mary’s life. Although no longer on Mary’s speed dial list, Trevor remained a pretty interesting guy. He ended up dying in a freak accident with a hermaphrodite prostitute, harpoon gun and an oversized chicken costume.

  Another colleague she’d thought about was her boss, Rob. He was a very detail oriented man and felt he needed to be in the lab area and be present so everyone knew he was in charge.

  Nice guy, but he was kind of dorky. He was also a pervert, hiring Mary right after her interview during which he stared greedily at her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra that day, and wondered afterward if she’d have gotten such a quick response if she’d covered the girls up better.

  She thought of hooking up with Rob mostly because he’d be safe. He would adore her and worship everything she said and did, and let her treat him like shit.

  But she didn’t want a guy like Rob. He was no challenge. He’d be crushed if she turned him away and she knew it wouldn’t take long before she did just that.

  She liked her job too much and getting involved with her boss had all kinds of other problems attached to it as well. For example, she also wanted his job and an affair would certainly mess up her chances of a promotion.

  He also seemed to be the nervous type, and she wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that he’d lose himself in his shorts if a woman became too aggressive. Doubtless he’d blame her for making him excited.

  She clearly understood what premature ejaculation was, but didn’t want to have to clean up after it.

  No, when it came to her colleagues, there was only one who really mattered. Inga was easily the best friend Mary had ever had. She had been there all along through good and bad times and Mary knew how lucky they both were. It’s not often friends are there for entire careers, and to have the chance to keep working together was an extra blessing. Their relationship had grown rock solid, with trust and respect in abundance.

  With a sigh, she continued to browse over the newspaper sitting on the counter in the lab. Mary accepted with where she was in life—it was okay, all things considered—and now she had something to look forward to. She was committed, intensely involved and ready to get going. Things didn’t distract her after she focused on...

  “Awesome. There’s a sale on shoes at Macy’s...”

  * * *

  Sitting in the college library was always a quiet and calming experience. Mary did some of her best research there, since there was a plethora of books containing the answers to any of her medical questions, and the peace and quiet made it easy to get immersed in the knowledge she sought.

  Especially now, since her focus was on the reanimation of dead tissue and the stimulation of lapsed brain function. Really interesting reading…not.

  It was also a nice place to catch a little eye candy now and again. Being an admitted nerd, she did let her mind wander when a good looking male or two walked by with dumbfounded looks on their faces, obviously lost.

  Watching them bending over, or reaching for books higher up while wearing tight jeans, was fun. She was a scientist but she was still alive and appreciative of a good-looking young beefcake. She’d wonder what kind of equipment the guy might be packing inside those pants or if they ever became suddenly struck with a serious case of a priapism and needed to test whether erections do, in fact, last longer than four hours. Hey, a girl has to dream a little.

  Staring at one of her books she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. She turned and found herself staring at a bulge in a pair of sweatpants and inhaling the scent of alpha male. Looking up she remembered her basic anatomy and followed a checklist; abdomen (nice), chest (very nice), neck (uh, what happened to his neck? It’s gone), face (very, very nice).

  “Sorry ma’am, are you the Biology tutor? I was supposed to meet her here tonight. I need to ace this test to stay on the wrestling team.” He turned the place where his neck should have been, making it crack.

  “Well I’m not a biology tutor, I’m afraid, but I am a doctor.” Mary figured she could get some studying in on this fine specimen.

  “Hmm, I don’t see the tutor and I really need this grade. I’d be willing to pay you to help me, if you could.” His smile widened. “My name is Mike.”
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  Mary paused. She didn’t need any money but there might be something else he could do in exchange for her help.

  She patiently explained to Mike hat the best way to get familiar with a topic was by doing a case study. She was more than open to being a test specimen for his personal usage in certain fields, like for example, sex.

  Her nipples were erect and she made sure to lean over so he would get the idea. Only problem was, he didn’t. He was built like a rock and unfortunately about as slow as one.

  “How about we go somewhere quiet and dark and do some in depth studying?” She tried a subtle hint.

  Mike frowned. “We won’t be able to read in the dark.”

  She took a more direct approach. “How about we go over the sexual anatomy parts first and then move on to other subjects?”

  “But I’m not worried about the sexual anatomy parts of the test.”

  What a fucking moron. Mary grabbed his face. “Just take me to your room and fuck me.”

  That he understood. “Well why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”

  Mary sighed.

  She wasn’t one to visit dorm rooms but this private lesson needed to be done—privately. Thankfully, Mike wasted little time when they got there. Like a bull in a china shop he was rough and strong, pushing Mary against the door and pressing his muscular frame against her. She gasped trying to catch her breath as he smothered her with kisses on her neck and nuzzling between her breasts.

  She reached down to grab his cock with her sharp acrylic fingernails. With a squeeze Mary regained control of the situation, and Mike quietly whimpered “Mommy?”

  “Mike, slow down. We have all night. Just lock the door and we’ll fuck. Oh yes, we will fuck. A lot. But let me catch my breath.” She let out a big sigh and let go of his cock. “First of all, did you know that women have two kinds of orgasms?”