by Gentry Race
Trevor tried to remember what happened. Dr. Betamax, the Russian general… and that sexy robot, Ms. Joy. Trevor felt his dick grow a bit when thoughts of what they had done came to mind. But then there were the jocks.
Dr. Dickens took notice of his excitement on the rise and covered the window completely. “Listen, Trevor. I know this is intense, but we’re not camping in tents, so roll up, if you know what I mean.”
Trevor heard another voice, softer in the background. “Camping in tents? What are you talking about, Father?”
Trevor finally understood what the doctor was getting at, but he couldn’t control his erection. Ms. Joy was hot, and now he heard a sexy voice behind the doctor? Great. He tried pushing down his full-on, rock hard boner.
“Is it me, or did this thing get harder?” he asked.
Dr. Dickens continued, ignoring the comment. “You are here because we can help each other. You need our scientific research to reverse your telephantom condition, but first, we absolutely need to know where Dr. Betamax is.”
“Fair enough. Just get me out of here,” Trevor said.
“Great,” Dr. Dickens said. “Now, tell me what the Soviets want with Dr. Betamax. Is it the vodka potato sprouts?”
“What? Potatoes?” Trevor echoed, clueless as to what the doctor was saying. “This is hopeless. Let me out of here.”
He could feel his body heating up and glowing brighter now as his anger swelled. He looked down at his limbs, seeing more of the dark bone within. For a second, he could feel a power within himself, but he was distracted by Dr. Dickens waving something in the window.
“How do you explain this? We found a message. ‘ROVERT’?” Dr. Dickens asked.
When the excited doctor stopped waving the rectangular object furiously, it was obvious to Trevor what it was. “Hey, that’s my name badge.”
A beautiful girl, with hair pulled back into a neat bun, shot past the doctor and ripped the badge from his hand. Trevor could make out her soft features, though he was trying not to stare. He recognized her from the MolecuLab video from before.
“Dad, your dyslexia has put you ass-backwards again,” Anita said, disappointedly shaking her head and trying not to eye Trevor’s private parts. “Listen, Trevor. We need your help. If you cooperate, we will get you out of there… and into some clothes.”
Trevor could see that Dr. Dickens was embarrassed as he removed his spectacles and cleaned his glasses slowly, like it would fix his condition.
“Cooperate? You guys can’t even fix your own issues. How can I trust you?” he asked.
“Because you have no one else,” Anita said, raising to the glass what looked like a deep diving suit of some sort. “Now try this on.” She unlocked the Teledeportator door and quickly threw in the makeshift suit, trying not to look at Trevor.
He caught the garment. Upon closer inspection, he could see it was indeed a deep diving suit, fitted with glass tubes, radio dials and brass knobs. A thick collar was on the neck and seemed to have a respirator fan fitted to it. He slipped the suit over one leg at a time and zipped it up, finally clinching the metal neck collar with a snap. The suit felt skintight as he raised each leg, engaging the joints and checking the fit. He looked down and could see the contour of his cock bulging against the material.
“Jeez, is this suit for a child? Trevor asked. “It’s kind of tight in the crotch area.”
“Oh my god.” Anita rolled her eyes.
“Done,” he announced.
Anita unlocked the teledeportator door once more, jetting the steam from within. Trevor could feel his body holding steady this time, despite feeling like he was wearing a leotard that was two sizes too small. He felt his feet touch the ground for the first time in what seemed like hours.
As the thick metal door opened wide, he stepped out. He could feel the small fans on his neck collar pulsing while they worked to keep his body in place. He focused his eyes on the two figures before him. First, Dr. Dickens, his face coated in an odd expression. Next to him, his young daughter Anita eyed Trevor up and down. He could tell she was mesmerized by his body.
He pulled on his crotch area to relieve the tightness that was suffocating it. “Welp, looks like we are all good here now.” He shot past the two in a sprint for the door. “See ya, Four-Eyes.”
“Stop him,” Dr. Dickens yelled out.
Trevor looked back just before reaching for the door, and saw Anita pull a small remote gadget from her white coat pocket. He felt an instant shock and fell to the ground. When he looked up, he realized his body was now a pile of ectoplasmic goop inside the suit, flopping on the floor.
“That was a jolt of plasma energy,” Anita told him. “You are not invincible, Trevor. You need help with your condition.”
“Okay, you brainiacs. You win. I just want to be normal again,” Trevor finally said.
5
Holy Molecule
Trevor felt like shit the next day. He was aware of a hard medical table under his body. He thought he seemed a little more back to normal, in the state he was in before he was viciously shocked by Anita.
There was something about Anita that felt strange to him. She was a genius in her own right, something Trevor could never aspire to. Maybe it’s the way she looks at me, he thought. But nonetheless he wanted one thing from her: to be normal again.
He raised himself up onto his elbows and looked down at what appeared to be an ancient deep diver suit, save for the helmet, clinging to his body. Despite the weight, it felt better fitted than the previous suit. He noticed the various knobs scattered all over the suit, and realized electrodes were connected to him, extending from a computer station not far away. His eyes were fuzzy, but he could make out Dr. Dickens walking briskly back and forth, like he was pondering an equation and wracking his brain with forced concentration.
He saw Anita walk back to the computer station, eyeing calculations that printed out in long paper stacks. Her white coat was shorter than Dr. Dickens’, revealing a tight black miniskirt that caressed her perfect ass. Trevor bit his lip when he realized she wore tight, black-toned leggings with a bow printed on the back of each upper thigh.
“Trevor, are you awake?” Anita asked, purposely never turning her head toward him. “We found a better suit for your… uh… body.”
He smiled, noticing again that his dick wasn’t as pronounced under the fabric as it had been before. Then thoughts of Anita putting him into the new suit herself made him swell a bit more. “I bet it was a great hands-on experience for you.”
He tried to see her blush, but she was distracted, dropping the stack of printouts she was holding. She bent down, squeezing the miniskirt’s hold on her ass to the max; every inch of her butt cheek, panty line and juicy thigh could be seen slightly through the stretched fabric. He couldn’t make it out completely, and his imagination went wild. He felt his dick immediately engorge and roll to his tummy.
He could now see Dr. Dickens giving him a strange look. “So great to see you are ‘up’ for some questions.”
Trevor smiled in embarrassment.
“Now, tell us about what you saw,” Dr. Dickens continued. “Did you see Dr. Betamax get into the Teledeportator?”
“Yes.”
“And what happened before that?”
“I heard him with a Soviet general,” Trevor said, conjuring the faded memory in his head. “Something about teledeporting Sharkanoes.”
Dr. Dickens’ head perked up. “Sharkanoes?”
“Yeah, like lava shark eruptions all over the face of the world,” Trevor stated matter-of-factly. “Is there a problem?”
“Hold on, I am picturing that visual… Sounds gross, we must hurry.” Dr. Dickens walked over to Anita, who was now closer to Trevor. “How is his suit holding up?”
“Well,” she adjusted more dials on Trevor’s suit, “I not only designed this suit to keep his molecules together, but it can also help us find where Betamax went.”
“You…” Trevor said softly
as he peered warmly into Anita’s brown eyes as she turned another knob. “You did this for me?”
“Nope, did it for us,” she corrected coldly, walking back to the workstation. “Because your molecules fused with the same Teledeportator’s ionic coils that Dr. Betamax’s did, your brain will work like a central mainframe beacon, pinpointing his location.”
“What does that even mean?” he asked.
“It means,” Anita growled as she turned around, “that if you make enough of an effort and can manage to think, you can figure out where Betamax is.”
“Concentrate, Trevor,” Dr. Dickens said, now slightly holding Trevor’s translucent head and pretending not to be disgusted by his gooey, blue flesh. “Concentrate, lad. You… are the Telephantom.”
“What the fuck is a Telephantom?” Trevor asked, pushing Dr. Dickens’ hands away.
“Concentrate,” Anita yelled.
Trevor immediately closed his eyes. He focused his mind on the moment. What had been just a blur now seemed defined, with purple and pink striations. A tunnel of some sort.
“I think I see something,” Trevor said. “Purple and pink colored goo.”
“Yes, yes,” Dr. Dickens said. “That is the infamous vitro-plasma of the Quantum Cosmos. No one has seen it before.”
Trevor opened his eyes, breaking his concentration, confused by the doctor’s comment. “Then how do you know the colors?”
“Shut up, dear boy,” Dr. Dickens said, placing two fingers over his eyes to motion them shut. “Back to the Cosmos.”
The lavender striations in Trevor’s mind’s eye began to fluctuate. As the pale red and lavender colors began to oscillate in a disorienting manner, a familiar human-like figure, heavyset in frame, began to interlace. Brilliant yellow emanated from its hands, but then vanished.
He then saw a figure come into view, donning a fish head for a noggin.
“I think I see something else,” he said, waving his hands out in the air like he was trying to feel something. “But I don’t think it's human.”
Flashes of red, fuming lava came to Trevor like a dream. Then a viscous magmatic river could be seen flowing from a small island and crashing into a cold ocean, jetting hot fog just around its base. Higher up, pockets of lush jungle grew on flat, crimson, rocky cliffsides until they reached a facility that looked like it was carved out of the volcanic rock.
Trevor’s heart fluttered when he saw a group of beautiful Femroids patrolling the outside of the facility.
Intrigued, he pushed his mind further into the dream-like vision, past the Femroids and into the facility. He was now in front of what looked like another makeshift Teledeportator that was made from an industrial freezer. A Femroid that looked just like Ms. Joy stood typing furiously on a large keypad. The screen read ‘ERROR’, while inside, god rays of voluminous light careened from the seams of the machine.
Trevor felt his body float up, now above the Teledeportator as it rocked like an out of balance washing machine. If it weren’t for his dream-like state, he wondered if he could have fixed the error, with him being a custodial technician, and all.
The machine stopped the chaotic movement, and agonizing screams filled the room. A Femroid stepped forward and opened the door, venting steam in hissing jets. Trevor watched a figure that looked like Dr. Beta drop to the floor with his back to turned to him. The doctor raised his hands, now scaly and webbed, reaching for his face, hidden behind long, flowing, red, blue and purple locks.
“Damn you, Trevor Jones!” Dr. Betamax yelled, slamming his fist into the ground. “I will be known as ‘Dr. Beta’ from now on.”
“We got it,” Anita said, locking the signal in the computer. “I found Beta’s receiving pod, but we are going to need parts from it to revert your condition back to normal, Trevor.”
“Wow, you’re like a magician,” he said.
“Well,” she blushed, smiling, “I dabble in quantum mechanics.”
“No, a magician, indeed,” Trevor continued with a cheesy, bony smile. “’Cause the more I look at you, the more everything else disappears.”
Anita looked around the room and then at her father in disappointment at his cheesy advances.
“Anita,” Dr. Dickens ventured, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood, “How will he be able to bring not just himself, but his suit, with him?”
“It’s not going to be easy,” she admitted, giving Trevor a dull eye. “I will need to teach Trevor some manners, as well as how to use his… new rig appropriately.”
“I’m sure with the right training I can be…” Trevor trailed off slyly, “‘up’ to par.”
“All right, Trevor. It’s time to get you up to spec on your gear,” Anita said, walking over to the Teledeportator and connecting electrodes to it.
Dr. Dickens stood not far off, reading what looked like schematics. By his feet was a pile of goo, reminiscent of what Trevor had become when he’d tried to run off.
Anita unrolled the electrode ball of wires, walking back over to him, and clipped a small clamp to each of his nipples.
“So, looks like we’re getting kinky already,” Trevor said, trying to resist the pain of the clips. “You know, I knew your name was Anita Dickens, but I didn’t think you’d need it so soon.”
Anita threw down the switch to the machine, arcing electricity through the wires and onto Trevor’s nipples. His skin lit up a brighter blue, and he grimaced with pain, his bones staying a dense black.
“You know, Trevor. If you were a little more respectful, you could go far in your life,” she said, unhooking the electrodes.
“Like how far? Second base?” Trevor asked.
Anita rolled her eyes in disappointment, picking up a bowl of fruit. “Were you like this before the accident?”
Trevor smiled and thought about it for a second. Perhaps he was acting a bit out of line, compared to usual.
Anita came over to the dials, reading a small window. “Well, your testosterone levels are pretty high,” she commented, picking up a large orange from the ceramic bowl. “Say, can you catch this?”
She threw the fruit at Trevor, and he instantly reacted, catching the piece of fruit with ease. He was amazed. All his life, he’d been so clumsy; it seemed the accident had truly changed him.
“Nice reaction,” Anita praised. “Now, since your molecules are unstable and being held together by the suit I made you. You will be able to focus your energy onto new things. Here, try to teledeport the orange from one hand to the other.”
“What?” Trevor asked with a confused look. "How am I supposed to do that?”
“By touching the orange, your molecules are rubbing off some of their instability and can cause the fruit to teledeport.”
“Rubbing, eh?” he asked slyly.
Anita grabbed the newspaper her father was reading, rolled it up, and swatted Trevor like a misbehaving dog in training. She pointed at a nearby pile of goo, reminding him that if he kept it up, that would be him. The last thing he wanted was to be that blob again.
“Okay, Okay,” he agreed, walking over to help Dr. Dickens as he strummed through the Teledeportator’s back engine panel. “You see? I can learn.”
Trevor touched the wire. A large shock was sent through his body, illuminating his insides. He felt unfazed as the bolt of electricity hit him and then pulsed, rippling out through the room. Anita and her dad were hit by the pulse, though, unable to let it just pass through their solid molecules. They fell to the ground.
Trevor shrugged his shoulders and lifted his hands. “So, what’s next?” he asked wryly.
Anita look at her father incredulously. “Come on, let’s try integration.”
Trevor peered with a deadened stare at the dirty shower curtain that hung from a stall just down the hallway from the Teledeportator machine. Soot and dark patches of filth corroded the facility, like the doctor and his daughter hadn’t cleaned it in years.
“This is fucking nasty,” Trevor said.
“This is the lab facility bathroom,” Anita said, tiptoeing in. Trevor could see she was making sure not to touch anything. “My father used to perform odd experiments in here, but now it’s time for you.”
“Uhh, time for what?” Trevor asked.
“Your molecules are unstable and therefore you may have the ability to integrate with objects. Inside the Teledeportator, you were being held together, and now that suit is holding you together,” she said, walking to his suit and turning down a bright red dial. “If you turn down the atomic shell spacing of the suit, this will lower your covenant bonds and integrate you.” She wore a serious expression.
Trevor couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “And you want me to integrate with what, exactly?”
“The shower curtain,” Anita said, pointing at the disgusting shroud that hung from a rusted rod.
“What?” he asked, stepping back. “Why not something a bit more… clean?”
“Okay,” she smiled. “How about the toilet, then?”
Trevor’s eyes widened at the thought, and his stomach sank. “Fine. The curtain, it is.”
She nodded. “Now, focus,” she coaxed as she slowly stepped out of the bathroom, “on the curtain.”
Trevor closed his eyes and did as she’d instructed. His mind felt strong, empowered by his new abilities. Flushing all his worries down a metaphorical toilet. His muscles became tight, hard like a rock. His brow seemed to sweat more now, though his face was cold. He opened his eyes in horror when he couldn’t move.
“Oh my god,” Anita said, laughing. “Let me find my dad.”
Trevor’s worst nightmare had become a reality.
His eyes were just a foot above the toilet bowl, looking outward. His mouth was the bowl itself. He tried to speak, but to no avail. He felt like he was sitting on his butt with his mouth open, gargling water — trapped.
“Anita? You in here?” a voice called into the bathroom.
After a moment, an ominous shadow washed over him, blocking the harsh light from above. Trevor tried to make out the dark silhouette looming above him but could only see the frame of what looked like a man.
