Telephantom

by Gentry Race

  Dr. Dickens.

  An unzipping sound struck Trevor’s nerves with every unfastened tooth. Relief came in stream form, and Trevor caught all but a few trickles of the yellow, ammonia scented urine.

  He squirmed and shifted, but his blocky base was too strong. To get out of this integrated form, he had to think bigger — become more than what he thought he was.

  The doctor reached over and flushed.

  Trevor freaked. A flash of blue light shot out from the bowl, and his body returned to normal.

  Dr. Dickens was thrown back. Trevor dropped to his knees, dry heaving what had been flushed down his throat.

  Anita popped her head in with an accepting smile. “About time you cleaned up that dirty mouth,” she quipped, motioning for him to follow her. “Come this way. Back to the fruit.”

  Just down the hallway, she picked up the bowl of fruit by a lab table. Trevor saw she was also holding a new dial of some sort in her hand.

  “I think I found a way to make it easier for you to teledeport the orange,” she said, pinning the dial onto his suit, along with some circuited wiring. “What you need is a depressor to lower your heightened abilities.”

  Trevor nodded his head, pretending to understand.

  “Now, hold this bowl in one hand,” she said, handing him the cornucopia of fruit. “Try to teledeport this now.”

  Trevor held the bowl steady, focusing with his mind’s eye. A flash of blue light shot from his hand, and the bowl vanished before his eyes.

  He looked down, confused. “Where did it go?” he asked.

  “Wait,” Anita said, holding her hand out. “How long did you focus on—”

  The bowl of fruit reappeared in midair, dropping into Anita’s outstretched hand.

  “Looks like you have the hang of it,” she finally said. “Remember, the longer you focus, the longer you’ll hold your load.”

  Trevor felt too exhausted to chuckle at her phrasing. Anita walked off, gesturing once again for him to follow her. Once in the main study, they watched Dickens put the fine-tuning elements on a bulky, nineteen-fifties refrigerator. This one was stouter in frame than the one Trevor had seen at MolecuLab.

  “Now, tell me again why a fridge?” he asked. The thought of using a fridge seemed archaic and slow. Why not use a fast car, he wondered.

  “It’s not a fridge, you brute,” Dr. Dickens fired off. “It’s a refrigerator. The first Teledeportator. It works by sucking the molecules from things like how a refrigerator sucks the heat from food.”

  Trevor held back his words, making sure not to piss off the man that was trying to help him. Dr. Dickens showed his passion and wasn’t afraid to defend it. Now, if only he could conquer his dyslexia, maybe he could get the upper hand on Beta.

  “It was the first working prototype,” Anita said, stepping closer to the machine and placing her hand on its cold exterior. “He has modified it to help you with your first jump.”

  “Okay,” Trevor said with enthusiasm, trying to open the door to the machine. “Let’s do this.”

  “Wait, before you leave,” Anita said, grabbing Trevor by his gloved hands. “I have modded the fingertips of your suit to allow a… release.”

  He could tell she was trying to refrain from saying those words exactly, knowing what would follow from his mouth.

  “Release?”

  “Energy blasts,” she said.

  “Energy blasts?” Trevor said with a smile, holding his black-fingered tips to his face.

  “Think creatively how to use them. Remember, we need to be monitoring your jumps, so make sure to stay connected,” Anita said, fiddling with a blocky comm system around his neck.

  “Let’s razz some berries!” Trevor said, stepping into the Teledeportator. He could smell the muggy perfumed mist that began to surround his body.

  Anita closed the door, but not before winking at him. He smiled and felt the cold air embrace him. Energy arced around him, and a warmth began to grow, expanding the air.

  A burst of blue light blinded him from within, and Trevor felt his body disappear for the second time.

  6

  Enter the Quantum Cosmos

  Trevor felt light, weightless inside the long tunnel of pink goo cut with purple striations, stretching as far as the eye could see. He remembered the colors from before. Dr. Dickens had called it the Quantum Cosmos. He felt at peace, looking at the slimy goo; it seemed to give off good vibes. He reached out, trying to touch the flowing current, and his middle finger grazed the surface, sticking to the tip.

  Trevor inspected the goo closer, as it seemed to shimmer in the light from the tunnel. As it passed, he could make out what looked like a human form. He remembered this from before. Trevor stuck his hand in the goo, waving away the striations to get a better view.

  Brilliant yellow light shot out in voluminous, god-like rays. What a goddamn religious sight, he thought. Two hands reached out, both stricken with cracks of gold, extending up the forearms. He looked closer and was able to make out a face. It was Joe!

  “Joe, is that you?” Trevor asked. His coworker looked sickly and disheveled. “Look at your hands, man, you got that Midas touch?”

  “Trevor,” Joe said, “You did this to me.”

  Trevor recalled the events of that day. The events that had changed him too. “Me? Yeah, well, looks like we both got the short end of the stick, man. I’m a fucking skeleton ghost.”

  Joe’s face grimaced, more in pain than from Trevor’s response. “Idiots like you aren’t worth protecting.”

  “Joe, it wasn’t me that caused your condition,” Trevor pleaded. “Wait, why are you in that pink goo?”

  “Looks like we both can do strange things,” Joe said, his eyes turning a jaundice yellow.

  Energy began to swell from within him. Trevor could see his bones, like he was radiating X-rays from his core.

  The light was blinding, and Trevor began to panic. He touched his dial ready to call to Anita with his goo-covered hand, and the electrical overload caused the suit to steam up. His stomach dropped. As if the long tunnel had turned on its side, he felt gravity’s pull, and he was falling — fast. The pink goo blurred past his eyes in a fast, whipping motion.

  “Doc? Anita?” Trevor screamed out.

  The radio was silent, and he could see the end of the tunnel. A dark circle climbed its way toward him, becoming larger and larger.

  The black hole engulfed him.

  Warping white light stretched and expanded, illuminating the harsh, reddish environment. Land filled the ground, and Trevor’s feet planted firmly on the spiny rock. The smell of sulfur filled his nose, and he knew where he was… he had made it to the volcanic island.

  Thick fog hung above the dense jungle and covered the top of the jutting volcanic monolith. Just below, two spouts of lava flowed freely into the ocean, cracking and popping as it contacted the salty seawater. He could see two small air duct tunnels extending from the base. Just as before when he made the quick jump and saw Dr. Beta condemn him, Trevor remembered the layout. But he also needed to remain in contact.

  “Can anyone hear me?” Trevor said, talking into the comm on his neck. “Dr. Dickens? Anita? I have made it successfully, but my suit’s geo-thermal battery is shot – I will proceed with the mission.”

  Anita was working at the console, and it was easy to see her frustration. Her brow furrowed, her fingers were working slower than she was thinking. She needed to find Trevor, but couldn’t pinpoint his location. Instead of going to the volcanic island, there had been an unusual breach in the connection. Trevor could be anywhere this very moment.

  She looked at her dad. He scratched his bald head, which was shiny in the light of the hot lamps above. His mind was working as much as hers. They needed an answer, and they needed it fast. She reached back and undid the tight bun constricting not just her head, but also her thoughts.

  “Rovert,” Dr. Dickens said, “Eh lliw eb enif.”

  “Trevor will be fine,” A
nita translated, shaking her head in response to her dad’s debilitating dyslexic condition. “Something is wrong. He jumped fine, but we can’t track him?” she asked, staring at the blank monitor.

  “And why doesn’t his comm work?” Dr. Dickens asked, “Oh dear, Atina. Well, keep trying to tune into his signal. We must make sure he finds Beta.”

  “Anita,” she corrected him.

  Then she looked closer at the blank screen. An image flashed, conjuring a memory of a long-lost friend; one she used to train, before his accident. She shook her head, and the image was gone. Curiosity filled her mind.

  She rose from the chair, making sure to fix her attire before she started walking. Wouldn’t want anything slipping out, she thought. After a quick once-over, she left the lab and walked to the study. That’s where she liked to vent and clear her head. Especially when something was really frustrating.

  Hundreds of books lined the walls around a deep mahogany desk. Endless amounts of information speculating conditions, hypotheses and theories about human ailments and multiple human genetic deformations. She just needed something to preoccupy her.

  One book stood out among the rest. She reached up and pulled the thick documentation from the shelf. Its purple binding accented with gold linings was easy on the eyes. The cover was dull, but it was the contents that were important.

  She slowly read the title of her favorite volume: Monster Musume: A day in the life of a Squid Woman.

  Trevor pushed through the thick jungle like he was on the hunt for a ‘sheila’. All the pretend target practice back at the lab had paid off. Never in a hundred years did he think he would be turned into a monster hero, sent to a volcanic island, and thrust into saving the world.

  The rocky basalt had turned to soft dirt, and he was able to tread easily as he made his approach. He couldn’t help but think that, just yesterday, he’d been doing his custodial duties and catching teenagers sneaking off to have sex at his work — look at him now. He was Telephantom, seeking revenge on the ones that had allowed this to happen.

  Just a few feet ahead, the jungle cleared, and Trevor could see a strange armed guard standing in front of a door. He looked closer at the voluptuous shape, noting a high waisted white pencil skirt and long hairdo — slightly different from Ms. Joy, but still a Femroid. He felt his dick swell a bit, watching her tights dig into her plump silicone flesh.

  Marching noises came from his right, and he ducked back into the jungle just as two more Femroids passed by. From his hiding place, he could hear their conversation.

  “I cannot wait for my next upgrade,” one Femroid said to the other, as she reached down under her skirt, adjusting what looked like panties. “My oil leaks have been irregular.”

  “I know what you mean,” the other Femroid said, shaking her head in disappointment. “My protonic sacs have periodically been swelling. It’s out of control.”

  “I hear ya, sister,” the other Femroid confirmed just as they passed by Trevor. “I’m just glad he fixed our hair.”

  Trevor’s eyes followed a hedge of well-trimmed bushes that ran along the exterior wall to the standing Femroid. He planned his route and executed it with stealth, rolling onto the upper deck in front of him. His swift tumbling somersault and holding his index finger and thumb like a gun, making sure the coast was clear showed he was embracing his inner secret agent.

  He felt the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He was doing it. He was the man now, ducking and hiding like a super spy. He poked his head out, still close to the wall, to see the Femroid still there, her round butt jutting out just past the bushes. She’s fine as fuck.

  “And now time for integration,” he whispered to himself, rubbing his hands together.

  As he approached, he made sure to step lightly and slowly. He didn’t want to close his eyes, as they ran up and down her curvaceous body. He felt lighter as he got nearer, and before he knew it, a quick pulse pushed him into her.

  His perspective change was immediate and clear; he was looking out at the forest, catching the crashing waves just beyond. His legs felt stiff and his lower body restricted. He placed his hands on his hips and realized the larger proportions his male form had taken. He instinctively took a step, spreading his legs like a man, and realized the dress wasn’t stretching enough — his ankle buckled, and he nearly dropped to one knee.

  This was going to be harder than he thought.

  He turned his head and saw the two Femroids now marching their way back, in sync with each step. He quickly got back stance and resumed position. As he stood there watching the sexy bots, strange sensations were overtaking his body. His nipples felt more sensitive, and instead of a semi-hard dick, an inverted lining swelled within him.

  “Oh my god,” Trevor said, reaching for his vagina, “Dr. Beta really updated them well.”

  He could feel a slightly wet vaginal opening and labia that felt like they wanted to be stretched. He pulled back on his thoughts, his yearning. The Femroids were closer now. From the corner of his eye, under his heavily lined eyelid, he could see one bot shoot him a look of disapproval.

  Like clockwork, the Femroids spun in perfect unison, marching toward him. One stepped forward, standing out from the rest, and looked him up and down.

  “Alyssa, what is your status?”

  Trevor’s thoughts squirmed, knowing he had such a hot name. He tried to think fast, but was distracted by how beautiful his interrogators were. The one on the left was more brunette, her eyes like a blue waterfall shining in sunlight. Next to her, a redhead that looked feistier than a pair of red-hot pistols. Their lips were the same red and finished in a high sheen that, to Trevor, begged for a good licking.

  “I am… wet,” he answered, realizing he’d made a mistake.

  Both Femroids stepped back, looking at each other and then checking their surroundings.

  “We are too.”

  “This new upgrade has shown us possibilities we never knew,” one Femroid said. “How are you… adjusting?”

  Trevor was relieved by the question; finally, he could be honest with his feelings. He looked each one in the eyes with sincerity. “I am so glad you asked. My protonic sacs are swelling.”

  The brunette Femroid smiled, showing a set of teeth, perfectly white and straight. “You know, I have found a way to relieve it.”

  He was flabbergasted. He had no idea what they were talking about, but if he could spend a few more minutes with these hot bots, he would. He caught eyes with the brunette, who bit her lip in excitement.

  “Okay, girls,” Trevor said, stepping forward and adjusting his tight dress to keep it from sliding up. “Where can we relieve these… sacs?”

  The redhead Femroid grabbed his hand, pulling him along to the side of the building. A small doorway was nearby and stuck out like a sore thumb, with its obvious pink doorframe and a doorknob to match.

  “Where does this lead to?” he asked curiously.

  “This was just built for us upgrades,” the brunette Femroid said, now lowering her tone in a more sensual manner. “Dr. Beta calls it the ‘Relief Room’.”

  “Relief Room?” Trevor asked.

  The brunette swung her curly hair back with a flip of her soft hands, her nails a bright pink to match the door knob. With a twist of the knob, the room opened to a series of curvy pillowed stalls, each one unique. Trevor counted five, the first one being a right triangle shaped pillow.

  The brunette pulled his hand toward it. “This one is called the Bender Pillow,” she said excitedly. “The angle really allows for a reach that can relieve those swollen protonic sacs.”

  Trevor was a bit more cautious at the thought of sticking something inside him. He had never done anything like that before, and from what he knew, girls liked to stick large things in there.

  The redhead Femroid grabbed his wrist. Her hand was as soft as silk, pulling him toward the next stall. “This one is my favorite.”

  The contraption looked like a large industrial kitchen
mixer topped with a long dildo. It sat just below a plush leather seat that reclined at odd angles; it had stirrups to match. Trevor shuddered at the idea of that machine ripping through his lower end.

  “Uh, ladies, ladies,” he said, trying to take hold of the situation. He walked over to what looked like a normal bed. “How about we start things slow?”

  The brunette smiled and pushed him down. “We can nurture.”

  She threw herself on top of him. Her hair fell over her socketed face, paneled together in soft silicone fashion. Trevor brushed it back with overwhelming excitement. He felt what a woman would feel, being with another woman.

  He tried to remember the mission, though it seemed far away.

  “Tell me, where… is Dr. Beta now?” he asked softly.

  He didn’t notice at first, but something was different about how he felt. He was slower with his touch, not so forceful as he had been with Ms. Joy. Maybe it’s the estrogen now pumping through my body? Thoughts of her still ran though his mind, but were wiped empty when the brunette Femroid planted her lips on his.

  “He’s just on the other side of this wall and a few floors up,” Ms. Red said, slowly rubbing his legs.

  Ms. Brown’s lipstick smeared atop each other, and he could taste the cherry wax base, creamy and sweet. Between his thighs, he felt her push her leg into his groin, her pantyhose grind in a heat of friction. He couldn’t have ever fathomed how this felt.

  Then the redhead came in for her kisses.

  Two bodies at once, caressing his body all over. Trevor’s nipples were on fire now, and he instinctively unbuttoned the nurse-like outfit, freeing the supple tits he now bore. They were beautiful from his view of the top, and he grabbed them, pushing them together to squeeze any last sensation from them. Ms. Redhead instantly started sucking on them.

  He felt both Ms. Red up top and Ms. Brown below. They were nurturers through and through. The combination of ecstasy threw Trevor into a crescendo of cascading emotion. He could feel his clit; it was engorged, throbbing and pulsing for more stimulation.