The alarm buzzed, 6am.... and Barbara reached her hand over to the Off button. She stretched her feet and all four big toes as she yawned, her groin arms pulling off the sheets. Still groggy she slowly got out of bed, stretching her long-double jointed legs and swung her tail, which was still asleep. Yawwwnnnnn.
She walked over to her dresser, her torso hunched over as she walked in her peculiar way. It was rather messy, drawers sticking out, clothes thrown around. Last night was supposed to be the night to clean up but her giant head was pounding so hard, all she could do was gulp down Celebrex and fall asleep.
She scrounged around for some panties, two separate ones sewn together, and for her three-cupped bra. Her groin arms put on her panties, their two fingers and thumb shockingly nimble and dextrous, as her arms strapped on her bra. Barbara then walked over to her closet where she put on her lab coat and skirt, her lower legs uncovered. Her wig was the next step, to cover up her bald head, which extended back over a foot. Of five choices, she chose her sexiest; Michael would take nothing less. For today she resolved to, after work, no matter what else happened, ask him out.
After dressing, she went to her kitchen, small and utilitarian, sharing the same space as her living room. Barbara lived alone, in a non-discrete apartment building, just off campus. She'd always lived alone, which was fine by her, she only came here to sleep, and she had zero interest in socializing. A small bowl of cereal was made as she caught the morning news, which she really didn't care for either. Everyone on there were idiots, bad grammar, bad economics... Reality television was the only thing outside of work she paid any attention to, and then only as a way to turn off her overactive mind. She leaned down to pet her cat, Spot, with her hands, her two bilateral thumbs per each rubbing behind his ears. She lifted him up and nuzzled his head to her chin.... it was soft. She always loved the feeling of its warmth against her soft skin. Putting him down she fed him, gave him water, and emptied his litter.
Within a fifteen minutes she was out the door. She aimed to miss the morning traffic, the stares, and just get to her laboratory as fast as possible; where she would be until she went home at night. Fortunately she never wore shoes so her feet, especially adept at running, could get her there quickly. The ground and sidewalk was cold as she leaped from one step to another, all her arms huddled in as the summer morning was unusually chilly.
This was her least favorite part of the day, when she could be seen by all the other students. If it wasn't for the laboratory, Dr. Shaharazar and best of all, the hot research assistant by the name of Michael, she'd probably spend her entire day cooped up in her apartment. She wasn't accepted, everyone thought she was a alien. Sure, people knew her to be the smartest woman in the world, but the tail, the groin arms, her legs, hands, three-breasts, and giant head, such was the price she paid. So what if she could speak 47 languages, and got her PhD in biochemistry at the age of 13, she was a freak, and nothing more.
Abandoned at a early age by her parents, she spent the first 10 years of her life essentially tucked away in the halls of science. Scientists were baffled by her, and her mysterious genetic makeup. She was passed, like chattel, from one researcher to another, barely even treated as human, until Dr. Shaharazar became her ward. Having himself a mutant daughter he sought to discover the connection, if there was any, between Barbara and Arianna, his daughter. Years were spent, and Barbara, now just barely 19, had joined the esteemed doctor as a equal in his study in progressive evolutionary activity. For the longest time, the two girls were the only known subjects, and the reasons behind their mutations continued to allude them, arguably the greatest minds on the planet.
However, in recent years the number had expanded, a girl in Indiana, and a rumored mutant in Wyoming. So far there were no males. Attempts to the contact the former were firmly rejected and the later, too few details were known.
The Professor led the University's Rapid Evolutionary Phenomenon Program. A leading innovator in the field, the particular technique faced considerable competition from the more mature "Art of Splicing". It had taken years for the mutant rats to be viable, and the mortality rate was high. They had so far failed to produce any long-term viable subject, all failing within a almost preset span of four months.
Yet, it couldn't be them. The math was right, the science flawless, it had to be the money, or lack thereof. Genetic engineering was a rapidly expanding industry, it was madness they were as ill-funded as they were. Several of the most promising research assistants and scientists that had begun the program had since quit in frustration, being taken up by private pharmaceutical companies, eager for profit and innovation. The program was down to the wire, and the stress level was at all time highs.
The laboratory itself was small, with several computers, cages for test animals, and a secure sterile room where specific experiments were carried out. Things were falling apart and the place reeked of the decay of neglect and mutation.
"How is your Friday morning, Professor."
"Good morning Barbara, how are you feeling?"
"Pain has been reduced by 58% from last night, I took the Celebrex as you prescribed."
"40mg every morning, and your headaches should go away my dear. Now, I'm sorry to burden you with some grim news. This afternoon I will met with the Governor's Science Council, along with the Trustees of the University, to plead for additional funding."
"The Governor's top aide is hiding a affair with his wife, it is easy to tell. Leak to the press. Our Program cannot be terminated."
"Oh Barbara, I can't do that. We must be on the right, even if they aren't. Budget cuts are through the roof, and in house programs are out of fashion.... I'm sorry, but it seems we are a dying breed."
"But we are so close. Termination at this stage is ill-advised Professor!" Her tail flew in appear-ant anger.
"I will do my best, that's all I can say. Do not worry about it Barbara, it will all be okay."
She could read faces, essentially mind-reading, and it was obvious he was wrecked with anxiety and loss.
"You do not have to lie Professor."
"Oh Barbara, sometimes you're too smart for you're own good."
From behind them walked in the lab's Research Assistant named Michael Deliyannis. Young, brilliant, and stunningly handsome, Barbara had been enamored with him since the day he joined the program. Besides the old Professor, he was the only other person she interacted with, and yet their level of conversation never evolved beyond that of matters of work. She was too shy to ask anything else, to ever delve in deeper. She'd look from the distance, and inside she could imagine the sweet joys of pleasure as his hands gripped her three breasts, and his dick down there, both at the same time, and just the fantasy made her seemingly explode in ecstasy.
Her groin arms lifted the biohazard suit from its wall-hook as her double thumbed upper hands put it on her body. It was custom made for her physiology, and allowed her access into the sterile lab, where the greatest secrets were uncovered.
Michael as well was tasked with helping her catalog the DNA sequence of Mouse 72, the longest-living specimen. With four eyes, and primitive flippers, it was still alive at nearly 5 months, 1 month past the last record. Death could be eminent, yet it showed no exterior signs of decay.
"Pretty incredible." said Michael, his voice laborious from under the suit.
"The subject's polymers are still fully intact, no tumors, and dopamine levels are still stable. Yes it is incredible."
"Not much for smalltalk."
"All 52 Chromosomes have been isolated." Was he trying to flirt with her? She looked at him, so it seemed. She had no idea how to respond, all her extra neurons and yet she could not find the proper response."
"I have never done 'smalltalk'." Stupid response. It was true, she had never done it. But she wasn't a robot, she had feelings. She just kept them locked up, as she could not understand them. No one cared about how she felt. To them all, she was a computer, a freak of nature, her lack of personality was a necessary loss, long ago sacrificed, in the cage of her youth.
"It's easy, everyone does it, even you could, if you tried. Smartie."
"It is not easy, as I have never done it." She never used contractions, her grammar was meticulous, and her voice articulate but slightly monotone. "I would not know where to start." She clicked on a switch with her left groin hand as her upper hands typed data into the computer. "Sample has been collected."
"Just be empathetic. Not everything is numbers you know. Ask me a question."
"What type of question?" This was amazing. Never before had anyone other than the Professor taken a such a interest in her, and there the feelings were not the same. She could feel a bubble inside her bursting. Please, just let me be normal, not think, not think too much. I always think too much. Her head began to hurt.
"Anything, ask me how my day is."
"How is Friday, July 15 2011, for you, Michael Deliyannis?"
"Noo, don't ask like that. Just say it simple. How's you're day. Repeat that."
It was a struggle, she tried to roll it off her tongue. "How's you're day." she even matched his tone and the deepness of his voice.
"That's freaky.... you can mimic voices."
"No, I do not mimic, I repeat exactly."
"This is sorta fun, I never really tried talking to you.... candidly."
"It is.... intriguing... Michael Deliyannis." Who knew it could be so simple? She turned her head once again, ignoring the samples in her hands.... and just looked at him... Today would be the day. Well tonight rather. Time it right. Walk home, make contact of lips, and then coitus. It had to work, it had to! Such was the dichotomy from what came out and what was locked inside.
The rest of the day went by, slowly they inched their way closer in discussion, her nuances still habitual, but communication smoother, and the topics more diverse. Thus time quickly passed by. Simultaneously reviewing previous conversation, she never forgot a thing he said, and analyzed all he said.
After lunch the Professor left for his meeting. He was there for a long time, and when he got home his eyes were red. Just by looking at him what happened could be easily discerned.
"No success? Professor?"
"As you have so quickly deduced my sweat Barbara, that is sadly the case."
No, no, she had been so carried away with Michael she had completely sidelined her anxieties about the Program.
"And what now?"
"I don't know.... the Trustees will review the Program in two weeks time. They will decide if it is worth even the remaining funds. I am so sorry."
"And of me, Barbara Maldovar, and Arianna Shaharazar?"
"Return to private lives."
She felt weak, she turned around, she couldn't talk anymore..... She didn't want to think. The trustees, they would fail them, that was obvious. Tears welled up, she couldn't let them see. Emotion was bad. Must be hidden, must be strong. Must impress Michael.
Barbara wobbled into the woman's restroom where she fell into the floor, and vomited. From the privacy of that room she kicked and screamed. Even tears came streaming down, she couldn't control herself. "Bad Barbara Maldovar!" She kept saying, hide your emotions. They may hear.
For a few minutes everything went black. She swore she dreamt of Michael, together, they worked on the Program. State of the art equipment, not the run-down computers of the lab. All was well. No one stared at her, no one thought her odd for her mechanical way of speaking. A wave of hormones swept through her, as bliss filled her entire self, and for a brief moment she finally felt happy.
"Barbara! Barbara!" Are you okay? Wake up." She felt a hand on her shoulder.
She opened her eyes, her tail was tucked up, her body curled on the bathroom floor. The Professor leaned above her.
"Barbara, answer me."
"I am fine Professor. Blackout. No need to exhaust yourself." What had happened? Where was she? For a moment, she could not remember anything. Michael? Oh God please don't let him see my vulnerable self.
She slowly got up, her feet gripping around as she propped herself up.
"You had me worried there for a second."
"The rapid movements of your eyes reveal high levels of anxiety."
"Good. You're back. Now, I must leave for my office. Keep your phone on, as protocol."
"I can comply with this order Professor."
"You and Michael finish up your projects for the day and lock up."
"I can comply with this order Professor."
For the first few minutes after the blackout things were a bit woozy but she soon regained her composure, her body hunched as she walked bent-legged, as was her normal gait.
There was not much work left to be done, and soon most things were finished up.
They left the lab, it was dark, and the air was cold. Dr. Shaharazar had left the laboratory early, back to his office to do paperwork, where he would likely be until very late. Barbara locked up the doors and turned off the computers, while Michael waited outside with their coats. This was her most looked to part of the night, where she would finally be alone with Michael and chat away until they got to his apartment, which was on the way to hers. He had not brought up the blackout, and she felt much better. All was fine, all was going to plan. Her mind felt strangely fuzzy, perhaps increased hormone production since the blackout.
She looked back as her groin hands turned the key on the door, he was so gorgeous. Oh how she could look at him all day long. Her body and two too many woman parts tingled with joy as she thought of his swift but strong movements, his toned muscles under his lab coat, oh how she long wanted to embrace them, to feel them, to know them.
Tonight. She would ask him tonight. No more being shy and withdrawn. Barbara longed for companionship, even a mutant needed love. As she turned around she tried to downplay her giddiness, which was difficult, as her tail constantly sought to sway in happiness or anxiety. He smiled as she came toward him, maybe he felt the same… she was so sure. What was not to love? With two pussies and three breasts, she was more woman than anyone he'd ever meet, that was fact. The smile and his eyes seemed to convey some element of lust, or so it seemed. Normally she could easily tell what others were thinking by their facial movements, but Michael was always harder to read than the others; which was why she was so attracted to him. So mysterious was he.
As they left the building he started up the conversation. Slow start, they'd never really talked much beyond work, and he asked her about her life, where she lived, what she did. It pained her that she could barely tell him anything. She simply did not have much to tell. Work was her life, beyond that there was nothing of value, beyond sitting home watching reality TV, and taking care of her cat; When he broached the topic of her childhood, she deterred the conversation to other directions, it was traumatic, and she didn't want anything to ruin tonight.
So instead she turned the conversation on him. What was his life story? And boy did it impress her. Butterflies flew in her two stomachs as he talked about being on the football team, the crush of the cheerleaders, and his full ride to John Hopkins, where he graduated the top of his class. Admittedly, she knew little of football, having never seen a game, real or on TV, but she asked questions regardless. She could tell he thought the questions simple but the smile remained, and maybe it was willful ignorance, but she refused to look deeper in him. Even if he didn't return the feelings, she didn't want to know. Not yet.
Up until they passed Charles Village, just a few blocks from his apartment in Harwood, they did not touch hands, but as they passed 28th, she slowly put her left groin hand next to his right, and to her gleeful delight, he did not refuse. Never before had she touched another man's hand, and it was slightly awkward as she tried to position it comfortably, her three fingers with his five (including thumbs). Now she couldn't control it and her tail begun to swing, slowly, but a dead give away to her joy. This was going to work.
They were both laughing as they came upon his town house, and within a minute, as they crossed the street, they said their departing good byes.
"It was a pleasure walking back with you Barbara; I hope you make it home safely. I'll see you this Monday."
"Oh, Michael Deliyannis, our walk was most satisfying. Only 5% of my time is spent outside of Program or Home"
"Talking to you, it would not seem that way." A lie, which was a dead give away, but he was charming, so she could excuse him.
"Well, 'good night', as you say…." She leaned in, it was right. Her voluptuous lips out for the kiss. He leaned in as well. This was it, this was the moment she had always dreamt of.
And as she stuck her long pointed tongue out, he pulled back.
"I'm so sorry Barbara, I can't do this. It's not right. "
"What? What do you mean Michael Deliyannis?
"I mean, it would be wrong of me, you're, you're not even human."
"I am! Rachel Maldovar is human!" tears down came from her big blue eyes.
"I'm so sorry; I'm so sorry, good bye. Please forgive me."
He turned around, and went up to his door. He looked back, through her tear covered eyes, she could read a sign of sadness on his face, but it did not matter. Her toes were about to give out, and her legs felt weak. She could hear people coming; she wanted to be nowhere near anyone. Someone would say something, whispers, eyes everywhere. She was bent over, her legs bent as well, as she was usually hunched when she walked bent legged. She straightened her legs as she ran at full speed, her double-jointed "dinosaur" legs leaping from sidewalk block to block.
The walk up to her apartment was arduous. Tears streamed down her face, her monstrous head felt heavy, her groin arms down low. As she came into her living room, she collapsed upon the floor, bawling. Why? God? Are you out there? You can't even exist! There is no point! Why have you made me so hated? Will I die alone? Am I nothing but a specimen to be studied? To be prodded?
I have emotions too! DO I NOT HAVE A SOUL?!
Barbara lost track of time, which was saying a lot, as she could remember every moment of her life, ever secret, and replay it. While normally she could delete certain segments, this would not go away. "you're, you're not even human." flashed through her head countless times, her head pounded; she grabbed the Advil and took a good four,.
If life would be so cruel, she had no desire to remain its cruel joke. Being the world's smartest woman meant nothing if it meant being trapped in her abominable body. Years of research and still no reasons why? How? Maybe.
Gripping all her strength, she pulled herself up off the floor, her upper hands, two thumbs and three fingers each, gripping the counter as she gained her balance.
And so she made up her mind. If tonight would not be the night, it would be her last. She walked bent over to the cabinet below the bathroom sink and pulled it out….
She had made it a few months ago, but she lacked the courage to actually do it. Now, nothing mattered. Her program was on the verge of being defunded, she had no future, no chance of ever falling in love. There was no reason to fight to survive.
As she swung the rope around the ceiling fan, which was tall enough that even with her long double-jointed legs she could not stand, and prepared the chair to get up on, the phone rang.
She paused… should she answer it? Why should she? What did it matter? Who could it be?
Maybe it was Michael, maybe he changed his mind. She could forgive him, she knew she could.
So she got down from the chair, it could wait; she would still carry through, if it wasn't him.
"Hello?" her voice was muffled with sadness and phlem.
"Barbara", it was Dr. Shaharazar, "Barbara, I need you to come to my office immediately. There's something big. I need you here."
She tried to swallow her tears, "What is big Professor?"
"Are you okay? What happened?"
"Do not worry about it Professor? What is going on?"
"I don't have time to explain. Get here as soon as you can."
Goddamn it. She would do this one last favor for a man who sacrificed so much for her, and when she got back home, she'd finally kill herself.
She put back on her coat, applied some makeup, put on her wig, and wore a long dress that this time covered her legs, groin arms, and tail, and set out.
One last favor, one last hour, and Barbara Maldovar would be no more.
Introducing new Character: Barbara Maldovar.
It's certainly different than the previous ones, but that's a good thing. I have a feeling the stories will come together at some point. It's an amusing character and I'm curious to see how this all fits together. Very good.
I've read the first half so far and it's really interesting. I'll give a proper review when I have time to read the rest.