DNA III
by Stephanie
Part 14
END OF HOSTAGE CRISIS +2 DAYS
Rob Petrucci looked into the mirror and wondered if he had overdone it. Then he looked again and decided he hadn't done enough. He wet his lips with his tongue and considered lipstick.
No, that would be overdoing it. What he was doing now would more than be enough.
He had started with female underwear. Rob remembered the utter shame he had felt when he had first been forced by necessity to put such garments on. But now he saw the simple logic of it. Like it or not his red-haired, muscled and slightly gangly body had been replaced by a stunningly beautiful, very well stacked, asian babe. Wearing underwear that supported, and frankly restrained, his new anatomy was basic common sense. Jeff's friend Mandy had suggested some rather outrageous lingerie that Rob hadn't seen outside of some of the better strip joints. That would have given entirely the wrong impression, but he had felt a little strange when he wondered what it would be like to try them on.
He went for the plainest cotton white blouse he could find. He did it up almost to the top button. Rob was glad to see that he was displaying none of his ample cleavage, though it did nothing to hide the swell of his impressive breasts.
A simple pair of black slacks and a plain belt was next. Rob turned side on and sighed. The basic problem with his new body was that it would look good in a dumpster.
A simple pair of flat-heeled shoes completed his outfit.
It was a simple, almost dowdy, outfit, but Rob knew it was still going to be far too much for his father.
He tied back his thick, long black hair into a simple ponytail. He'd somehow not found the time to get it cut short as he had wanted to when he had first woken in this body. It had been very hectic in the two days since the hostages were rescued. Rob had had more than enough debriefings and interviews, but the end of those meant that he was now free to tell his family his decision.
Did he really want to go through with this? Anne Chamberlain had prepared the stronger version of the Virus based on his original DNA if he wanted it.
Maybe, it would have been the right thing to do if the body he had been stuck in was old, or severely disabled. But to risk his life simply because he had tits and a pussy instead of his dick was just stupid.
There was a knock on the door, "You ready in there?"
"I'll be out in a minute, Jeff." Rob called.
Rob thought about Jeff for a moment. She was the quiet twin of Paul, but in even the short time he had known her she had changed. Paul was glad of it as he had wondered if she would ever recover from her captivity at the hands of Quince's thug.
Rob knew most of her story from the press reports and he found it hard to believe the quiet young black woman had ever been a heavily muscled cop. But now some of her old self was returning, but with it had developed a relationship with one of Anne Chamberlain's research team.
Jeff hadn't been gay, but now he seemed happy to start an intimate relationship with a man. This was what worried Rob the most. A physical change was one thing, but the mind was not separate from the body.
Rob wondered how deeply he would be affected. He had already seen other men through different eyes. Knowing a man was attractive and actually feeling that attraction were two very different things.
Even if that was the case. Even if in time the change so overwhelmed him that he would spread his legs for a man, it didn't matter. It would be his choice and no one else's. His choice and his life. Simply being a woman was not nearly good enough a reason to risk his life over.
He took several long and calming breaths and then joined Jeff to go see his parents. END OF HOSTAGE CRISIS +2 WEEKS
"You do know that if you applied together, you could get a double room," Mandy said as Jeff got ready on the other side of the cramped dorm.
"Then who would look after you?" Jeff replied.
"As if you ever look after me. You're always mooning over Marcus."
"Jealous?"
Mandy looked up from the laptop she was working at. "Well, yes actually. He's quite hunky. I'm glad you're feeling better."
Jeff put on lipstick carefully. She checked the results and then grinned. "It's odd really. Here I am having sex with a man - really great sex with a man - and yet I feel more like my old self than ever. So how's the book going?"
"I think I'm getting the hang of it."
"What part are you doing now?"
"I just reached the bit where you have the orgy with half the soldiers on the base."
"Hmmm, I think I better check that book before you send it to a publisher."
"What? I'm not allowed a little poetic license?" Mandy paused for a moment. "Do you know who first suggested I write a book?"
"No."
"Simonds, back when she was on the base and we all thought she was Tanya. She was actually quite nice to us."
"Mandy, she was a psychotic bitch, and she wasn't that much better when she was a man, believe me."
"Yeah, I know, but she seemed to genuinely feel for us."
"She was insane and I had no sympathy for her. What I went through was as bad at least as her experience and I didn't go postal."
"I'm not justifying what she did, I think I just understand her better. She saw herself as a victim, first of Quince and then of the virus. And she saw us and Rob as similar victims of the DNA Virus as well. She saw us as just the same as her. I think she actually believed she was fighting for us."
"Unless, you've forgotten she caused Rob to be in the body he's in."
"Yeah, well. I didn't say Simonds was rational at the end, did I. So what's the plan with you and the hunky doctor tonight?"
"Marcus has found this nice secluded Italian restaurant. We should be able to have our meal in peace there."
"Then it's back here and a night of loud and passionate sex."
"We're not loud."
"These walls are paper thin, baby. I can hear you begging for more each night."
"What are you talking about? Marcus' room is right down the corridor."
"Exactly." Mandy arched her eyebrows, "Anyway, I want to hear all about it, later. What the meal was like, what positions you tried."
"I'm not telling you anything," Jeff replied with a grin. "If I did it'd be in your book."
Mandy laughed. "I resent that. My book is a serious inside view on the last few months. I promise no more than half of the book will be taken up with your perverted sexual escapades."
Jeff headed for the door. "Okay then. I tell you tomorrow."
"Good, I can use that for the sequel."
Jeff sighed theatrically and shut the door behind her. END OF HOSTAGE CRISIS + 2 MONTHS
Michael's laugh was high and musical. "She's like a kid with a new toy."
"She is a kid with a new toy," Paul said.
"Stop moaning," Anne told them as she checked out the new labs. "Finally, we get to leave that base behind and get some real research done. I wouldn't expect Paul to understand, but I expected better of you, Michael." She told them in mock disapproval.
"Don't worry," Michael told her, "I'll be ready for the start, but right now I have to go. My stuff should be arriving at my new apartment soon, and I've got to be there."
Paul walked with Michael down to the reception of the new institute. "I don't think I've seen her so happy," Michael said.
"She was always like this with research. I'll be lucky to get anything non-scientific out of her for weeks. How are you doing? I haven't seen you for days."
"I've been getting my head straight about a few things," she replied. "I'm beginning to accept that I'll be this blonde bombshell for the rest of my life."
"Yeah, I noticed."
"Oh, you mean the skirt and pantyhose? You should try it, they don't feel that bad."
"I have in private, but I still don't feel right wearing them."
"Give it a go, you'll be surprised."
"I thought your stuff arrived yesterday?"
"I got the days wrong."
Paul looked at her. "What are you up to? You're blushing!"
"Alright, I'm meeting someone."
"Who? A man? A woman? Both? You can tell me."
"The person in question has sworn me to secrecy. But I'll tell you when I can."
"Very cloak and dagger."
Michael drove the short distance to her new apartment block. The press had finally begun to drift away from around the new institute and no one seemed to notice her arrival at her new home.
Michael checked her make up in the rearview mirror before heading inside. As she rode up in the elevator she considered how lucky she had been. Simonds had told her, shortly before she was transformed, that her new body was brain damaged. But her mind had survived intact.
When the donor used by Simonds had been tracked down it had been discovered that her mental disability had been due to an auto accident early in her childhood. The DNA had the blueprints for a perfectly healthy brain and so Michael had not suffered any impairment.
Several researchers suggested replacing the damaged sections of the brain with new tissue and then injecting her with her own DNA. Michael knew that years of testing was necessary before such a thing could be allowed to go ahead - if ever - but she hoped some good came out of her transformation.
Once in her flat, she set about sorting out the bedroom. She found herself nervous about the evening. Was she doing the right thing? Well, there was only one way to find out.
Virtually everything was new to her at the moment. The media attention had made nearly all social contact impossible, but now that they were moving onto other things Michael felt it was time to try it.
The knock at the door was fairly hesitant. Michael wasn't the only one unsure of this path.
She took a deep breath and opened the door. She smiled at the person standing beyond it. "Come in. How are you?"
"Fine. You?"
"Never better."
A drink for her and her guest finally helped to break the ice and they relaxed.
"So," he finally asked Michael, "did you get it?"
Michael didn't answer but reached down beside the couch and pulled up a bag which she handed to him. He held it for a moment, before reaching inside and pulling out the object.
"I-it seems bigger."
"Well, I never got a chance to measure the first one, but I don't think it is. We'll have to just try it and see, unless you're having second thoughts?"
"I'm having third and fourth thoughts," Arnold Lester replied, "but I have to at least try this."
He turned the double-ended dildo over and over in his hands. END OF HOSTAGE CRISIS + 4 MONTHS
"It's eleven o'clock on a Friday night and you're taking this weekend off."
Anne looked up to see Paul standing at the entrance to her office. "I'd love to Paul, but I'm on the edge of a real breakthrough here--"
"And it'll still be there on Monday morning."
Anne sighed and reluctantly shut down her computer. "Let me just set something running in the lab, then I'll quit for the weekend."
"So what exactly is this breakthrough," Paul asked as they headed down the stairs. "A cure for the stronger virus?"
"No, I've got nowhere with that," Anne admitted.
"You don't want to find a cure, because then I'd give up this sexy body." Paul rubbed against her. "So what is it then?"
"So far all the virus does is copy information, the DNA of another. I think I've found a way to actually create new information. To build new templates from scratch."
They reached the lab and Anne punched her code. "It's in the early stages, but I'm about to begin tests. If it all goes well, by the middle of the week the world will have it's first six-legged mouse."
"What use is that?"
"It means that we'll be able to build bodies with the exact specifications we want rather than just copying someone who is close to our idea. In the long term we could have more radical forms adapted to life in different environments like the sea or extreme heat or cold."
The door to the lab clicked shut. "You've learned nothing have you?" came a voice from the door. "Now you want to create monsters. Seems I was just in time."
The figure moved forward into the light and Paul could see that it had a gun. He knew who it was even before the figure's face was illuminated. "Simonds! I should have known you'd have survived."
"Don't worry about it, Paul. You saw what you wanted to see, my corpse."
"Who was it who died?"
"Largo. We had to knock him unconscious after we changed him. Do you know how difficult it is to dress an unconscious body, even one as small as mine? I heard he regained consciousness just before he died." Simonds smiled. "A little quicker than I had planned, but still rather satisfying."
"What do you want?" Anne asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
"You, of course. All this is your fault. What happened to me, to Paul, to all the others. It's your fault. I've spent the last few months setting up with a couple of Largo's lieutenants. We control the DNA Virus supply. They don't realize that they'll lose the monopoly in the long term, but they'll be dead before then. First I deal with the supplier and then I'll deal with them."
Paul put himself in front of Anne. "Leave her alone. She did nothing to you. I'm as much a victim of the virus as you are and you made Michael pay as well."
"I won't kill her. All I want her to do is inject this into herself. If she doesn't I'll kill first you then her." Simonds carefully removed a syringe and slid it across the floor to Anne.
"How can I trust you to leave Paul alone?" Anne asked.
"As I told him before, it'll be much more painful to leave him alive. I've heard Orangutans can live for decades."
Anne reached down and picked up the syringe.
"Don't do it--," Paul started, but Anne held the syringe as she would a dagger and drove it into her left arm just below her elbow.
Paul stared in shock and the only sound was a contented sigh from Simonds. "I knew you'd do it. Love is a remarkable thing. When the people see what your own discovery has done, the tide will turn. The DNA--"
Simonds stopped as Paul screamed like a banshee and leapt straight for her. She was so startled she only got off one off-target shot before the enraged black woman crashed into her.
The two slammed to the floor with Paul scrabbling at Simonds slender neck. Simonds tried to bring the gun to bear but Paul grabbed her wrist and held it safe. Simonds backhanded Paul across his face with her free hand.
As small and light as Anne's virus had remade her, she was still bigger than Paul's female form. She bucked twice sending Paul sprawling, but losing the gun in the process. Simonds lunged after it and grabbing the hilt tightly she turned around to hunt for her opponent.
The sound of breaking glass alerted her and she ducked as half a flask went sailing over her head. She brought the gun up to see Paul standing with a shard of glass in his hand. As she watched he slowly drew the shard up the dark skin of his arm, releasing a flow of red blood.
Simonds was transfixed by the sight of Paul's blood. She could almost see the DNA virus coursing through it. A stronger version of the virus in her own blood. A version that could turn her to liquid ruin if it touched her.
Paul smeared the blood on his hand and then ran at her. Simonds wailed and turned to run, her gun forgotten. Paul landed on her back and drove her to the floor. All she could think about was the death she would suffer at the hands of Paul's DNA virus.
Simonds screamed in utter terror as she felt Paul's hands, slick with his blood grab her head. With all the strength he possessed he smashed her head on the shiny floor. Once. Twice. Three times.
She went limp and the dark floor was slowly stained by her blood as it poured from her gashed head. Paul staggered to his feet and smashed the nearest fire alarm with the butt of Simonds' gun. Sirens began to wail throughout the building.
Paul paused for a second that felt like eternity. The DNA Virus would be doing its work on Anne. Stripping her humanity from her. Then he turned to face her. He would not desert her now.
Anne was still standing where she had been and the syringe was still impaling her arm. Paul looked closely, but couldn't see any sign of the transformation beginning. She carefully lifted that arm up and he could see the needle sticking out the side of the arm. Anne had driven it into her arm that it had gone right through the muscle and out the side.
He ran over and inspected the wound. As he watched he saw a single orange hair sprout and grow next to the needle. "No," he whispered in despair.
"Damn," Anne said. "Okay, Paul. Paul! Listen to me!"
Paul looked up at her and nodded.
"Go to the bench there and open the red sample box," she instructed. "That's it. Now take vial number three. Make sure it's number three."
"I can't find a syringe!" Paul shouted, panicking.
"Doesn't matter. Give it here!" Anne took it, popped the top, and gulped the contents down.
"Whose DNA is it?" Paul asked fearfully.
"Mine." She paused a few moments then relaxed. "If it was going to dissolve me it would have done it by now.
She closed her eyes as she felt the tingling sensation rapidly spread out from her stomach. There was far more of her virus in her system than Simonds' and within a minute it had infected almost every cell in her body.
Anne grabbed the syringe and pulled the needle out of her arm. It hurt fiercely where she had driven it through the muscle. The small patch of orangutan flesh looked little more than a hairy wart. "Removing that won't be a problem."
Paul grabbed her tightly and started weeping. "I was s-so afraid I was going to lose you there."
"It's going to take a lot more than that mad bitch to separate us, Paul."
Later watched as Simonds was strapped to a stretcher. He was a little embarrassed to find that he was disappointed she was still alive. Anne was just finishing her statement to the police. There would be more questions and interviews the next day, but for now Paul had convinced them that he and Anne needed time to rest.
"What time is it?" Anne said as they got into her car.
Paul squinted at his watch. "God. It's half past one. I feel like I've been up a week." He looked over at Anne. "Are you okay? You don't look too good."
"Sorry," she said with a small smile. "It's just I'd put the whole business with Simonds behind me and then up she pops again. And then, of course, there is the virus inside me."
"It doesn't matter. It's a shock, I know, but you survived and you haven't changed physically. Or is that small bit of Orangutan bothering you?"
"No, that's not the problem." She turned to face him. "Paul, you--"
She was cut off by the sound of Paul's cell phone. "Who the hell is calling at this time of the morning?" he moaned. "Hello? No, you didn't get me up, long story. What's up?... SHIT! Um, okay. We'll be there in about quarter of an hour."
Paul ended the call and then sat there looking at the phone.
"So are you going to tell me who that was?" Anne asked eventually.
"I'm going to be a father," Paul said. "Tonight." TO BE CONCLUDED...