- Age / Gender:
- 36, Male
- Ann Arbor, MI
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It is better to sit in silence and be presumed a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt. -Mark Twain
- Community Stats
Level 12 Musician
Ranked as Civilian
Contact Info / Websites
Today I grew a third arm. Woke up this morning and it was there, apropos of nothing, completely articulate and controllable, as though it had been there my entire life. Believe me, it hasn't... and I nearly went mad asking myself how it could have happened.
The x-rays showed that it was complete with an entirely new shoulder structure that allowed for full movement and strength from both arms. In a bizarre irony, I realized that my job was to give people extra limbs... though usually they had lost their originals, first. Robotic prosthetics that look and move just like the real thing. I laughed at that then choked it off as it threatened to become hysterical. The doctor looked up from his notes. He was obviously as confused as I, though he did his best not to show it.
"Mr. Wilkins?" He said. "I don't know what to tell you. The arm seems perfectly healthy and if I didn't know that it wasn't there before, I would say you had it your entire life. I've never seen anything like this before, but I don't see it harming you in any way. I'll give you a sling that you can use to keep it immobile under your clothes if you feel self-conscious about it, but that's really all I can do for you."
"Thanks, Doc." I answered. "I don't think the sling will be necessary. I don't suppose you know a good tailor, do you?"
It was a weak joke, but the doctor gave a polite chuckle anyway. I left without any real answers. When I arrived home I decided it was time to stop panicking and figure out what the hell had happened. As the garage door rose, I noticed that the door into the house was slightly ajar. Dammit, I really need to pay more attention when I leave. Luckily it's in the garage and I guess I kinda had a good excuse, considering.
I looked at the clock on the dashboard while the garage door slid closed. 12:30. Josh and Mel wouldn't be home from school for another 3 hours... Allie gets back from work at 5. I should cook dinner. I don't get to do that enough. Closing the door behind me, I take off my jacket and slide it over one of the chairs at the kitchen table. As I reach the refrigerator, the events of the day catch up to me, and I begin to hyperventilate. Leaning my head against my hands (all three of them I realize, and I'm sent for another swirl through panic) I feel tears of fear, frustration and confusion run soundlessly down my cheeks.
Eventually I regain a bit of control and am able to slow my breathing. Wiping my eyes, I take a small chicken out of the freezer. As I turn around I hear a voice say, "How do you like your arm?"
I think I screamed. I definitely jumped. I also definitely dropped the frozen chicken... right on my foot. I probably yelled again, but I'm not sure, because my mind threw up its hands in resignation (all three of them) and I slid out of consciousness.
I came to in a white room lit by humming fluorescence dressed in only a pair of pajama pants with hearts on them. Shit... still have three arms. At least I don't have four. Give this room one of those beeping heart monitors and it could be a hospital... or desks and you have a classroom. Gotta love places so nondescript that they could be anything. A completely modular space, defined only by what is within.
A greater surprise than waking up in some random place not my own was that I was not the only one here. A young woman was curled up on a tall hospital-like bed. She seemed to be asleep, or unconscious. I wondered briefly what the difference was, then realized I should probably figure out where I was and see if I could leave.
I hopped out of my own bed only to crash unceremoniously to the floor as pain shot up my leg from the foot I had dropped the chicken onto. I would have yelled, but the pain choked any sound from my throat. I nearly vomited, and the world went a little grey for a short while. A bizarrely calm voice in my head told me that I couldn't afford to be passing out now, there were things to do. It was hard to hear him from the rest of my brain and body screaming "OW!" at the top of their metaphorical lungs, but somehow I held on.
"Sir, are you okay?"
It was the woman I had seen earlier. My thumping to the floor must have awakened her.
"I'll be fine. I hurt my foot earlier and I stepped on it wrong." I noticed she wasn't looking directly at me, but when I spoke, her head moved just a fraction, centering itself to me. I realized that she must be blind.
"That sounded like it hurt a lot, are you sure you're all right?" She asked.
"Well, it's probably broken, but I'll live. Dropped a chicken on it just before I was brought here."
"Yeah... I was making dinner for my family and I got startled and dropped the chicken out of the freezer onto my foot."
She chuckled a bit at that. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to laugh."
"That's okay. Once it doesn't hurt quite so much it'll probably be funny to me, too. By the way, I'm Jack. It's nice to meet you."
"Do you happen to know where we are?"
"No. Sorry. I think it's a hospital or a laboratory or something. I was brought here to fix my eyes. Are you blind, too?"
"No. I can see. Who said that they'd be able to fix your eyes?"
"The Lazarus Corporation. I'm in their human trials for replacement eyes. They say they can take some skin cells, turn them into stem cells and grow me a new set of eyes that work perfect. It sounds rather fantastic, but if it works..." She choked up on the last words.
That name rattled me, because all of a sudden a few pieces of my own puzzle fell into place. Lazarus was the company we beat out for the military contract. Their approach of using genetic modification and stem cell techniques to re-grow lost limbs and organs seemed years away, whereas our prosthetics had successful prototypes already and were just in the process of refinement meaning we could get them to production quicker and cheaper. Lazarus lost millions, if not billions, by not getting that contract, and that miss probably set the science of genetic manipulation back decades. If they were the ones who had taken me... or were the ones responsible for my arm then this was even more serious than I had imagined. I wondered what their endgame could be.
I finally hobbled my way to my feet (or rather to my foot, as I was careful to keep my weight off my injured leg) and hopped over to Jenny's bed and sat next to her. Unconsciously I put my arm around her and she relaxed for a second then stiffened and jerked away.
"Who else is there!?" She asked, frightened.
"Wha...? No one. We're the only ones here." I said.
"Then who..." she stopped. She reached out tentatively towards my shoulder and suddenly it dawned on me. As her hands found my neck and slid down to feel my dual set of collarbones, she paused. I could see the gears in her head turning as her face ran a gamut of emotions, from fear and disgust to shame, pity, and sadness. She seemed to set herself and continued to feel her way over my shoulders, and followed each of my right arms with one of her own, ending up holding each of my hands in her own.
Tears appeared on her cheeks again as she held her head downcast. Somehow I knew the tears were for me, were her apology for being afraid. I reached up with my single left hand and wiped them away. She pressed her cheek into my hand and held my right hands in her own. She understood. And she accepted me. In that simple gesture she lifted a weight of fear I hadn't even realized I had been carrying, and I began to cry as well.
She let go of my hands then to embrace me and we both cried a bit. She kissed me on the cheek. I kissed her on the mouth. She kissed me back. It shames me to say that as I laid her back on the bed and undid her blouse my family never even crossed my mind. When her breasts came into view I gasped. Small and humble, topped with dark chocolate nipples, they may have been the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. She smiled, unseeing eyes closed. I closed my eyes, too. If I should join her in darkness, that would be the most sublime final vision one could hope for. I kept them closed, allowing my other senses to reign.
I caressed her neck, her face, and her breasts all at once. The sensations from three palms, three sets of fingers at once was probably the most erotic thing I'd ever felt. Her lips captured fingers while more fingers caressed and pinched a nipple, and a third set entwined with one of her own hands. Her breathing, and mine, quickened. I could smell her personal scent beginning to break through the light perfume she wore, rich and musty and could feel the slightest beginnings of a sheen of sweat on her skin.
I kissed her neck and could feel her pulse race beneath her skin. I trailed little kisses over her collarbone, across her chest, around her breast avoiding the nipple while a hand pinched the other one. I continued down her stomach, licking her belly button lightly which made her giggle. Releasing her hand and her breast, but keeping one hand caressing her cheek and neck, I carefully removed her slacks. I wondered briefly why I was in borrowed PJs and she had real clothes on, but her lacy panties distracted me back into the moment.
Suddenly I wanted even more arms. More points of contact. More connection. I wanted to cover her entire body with caresses. As I removed her panties and leaned down to kiss her most private place I felt a slight tug on my left side. Grabbing her left hand in one of my right ones I used my other right hand to spread her labia, exposing the pink pearl of her clitoris. My left hand drew circles around her stomach and breasts, my other left hand grabbed her leg behind the knee and lifted it over my shoulder.
She arched as my tongue brushed her clit, and moaned as I delved deeper into her pussy with my tongue. Her wetness overflowed and a pearl of moisture slid down her perineum and over her crinkled anus. She writhed as I brushed her labia with my tongue, tasting the salt of her sweat and the tang of her juices. Reaching down with her right hand, she curled her fingers in my hair and held me to her pussy, demanding more. I responded by teasing her even more, brushing her lips and inner thighs with the lightest of strokes, tickling her sides and legs with gentle strokes of my hands. Her groan was one of frustration and joy.
I finally relented and grabbed both of her legs and arms in my hands, folding her back onto her shoulders, I attacked her pussy with my mouth, twisting my tongue insider of her, and laving her clit in long, full strokes that caused her pussy to pulse as though it were kissing me back. In that position all she could do was twitch and moan. With me holding her legs back and arms down, she was completely at my mercy. I had never been so aggressive during sex, but I realized that I liked it. Judging by how turned on I was, I liked it a lot. I felt like any contact would bring me off, as though I would shoot in a sympathetic cum when she orgasmed.
As if on cue her writhing tensed up and her moans took on a new pitch. Her legs straightened out despite my grip on them and locked around my head. Her moans suddenly stopped and her breath hitched in short gasps. Her hands gripped mine so hard it hurt, but I didn't care. She suddenly lunged and screamed and squirted a jet of cum that went mostly up my nose, then arched out, splashing on the floor and wetting the bed. I spluttered a bit while she shuddered in the aftershocks of her orgasm.
Luckily for me the unintentional inundation distracted me from my own orgasm - unluckily it stung like crazy and gave me a bit of a sneezing fit. By the time I recovered, so had she, and she reached out for me, tracing my arm up to my face, which she pulled down into a kiss. I shifted and guided myself into her vagina, reveling in the heat and moisture. I thrust in in one quick motion, burying myself full in a single stroke. She gasped at the sudden intrusion, but her own wetness and arousal kept it from being uncomfortable. I slid two hands under her ass and held her against me as I ground my pubic bone against her clitoris. With my other hands I grabbed her breasts and held her hands, fingers intertwined.
I could wait no longer and began to thrust into her, long deep strokes that bottomed out with the head of my dick tickling her cervix, and nearly exited on the out-stroke. She gasped and groaned with each thrust, her nostrils flaring and her eyes rolling sightlessly as though searching for God. I moved my hands from her breasts to her face, as I kept her arms pinned, and my other hands kept their grip on her ass, fingers teasing her anus and perineum. She sucked in two fingers, wet with her sweat and juices as the other hand slid around her neck, lightly grasping and playing with the notion of breath control. I slid a finger into her ass and she arched her back and her pussy clenched down on my dick. She obviously liked it, and enough of her own lubrication covered the area, so I slid in a second finger, keeping my strokes long and hard.
I wasn't going to last long, and I had an unbelievable desire to pin her down, control her, own her. Two hands pinned her own down, two others held her ass, two others grabbed her legs at the knees and pinned them to her chest and two more wrapped around her neck and squeezed and released and squeezed and released in time with my thrusts. She gasped and moaned and tried to thrash around but was held fast at every point. I thrust faster, gripped harder, and felt her clench fully and her pussy spasmed around my cock as she came again. A couple more thrusts and I came as well, and she arched again, almost breaking free, but I held on harder and poured myself into her. She bucked and squirmed and came like nothing I've ever seen. My own orgasm made the world go a bit fuzzy. She finally came down and collapsed, senseless to the bed. I rode my wave for a little while longer, then collapsed as well against her chest. It took me a while to catch my breath. That was the most intense sex I had ever had.
Something was off.
Something was wrong.
What was wrong?
Jenny wasn't moving. I had seen women pass out from orgasm before, but usually they had come round by now. Then I noticed it. The wrong. Her chest wasn't moving. She wasn't breathing. I leaped up, off of her and onto the floor. Red marks, quickly purpling, wrapped around her neck and a blue tint to her lips told the story. I had held her too hard. Controlled her too much. Asked for too much from her. How was I standing? My foot. There wasn't any pain. I looked down and realized I now had 8 arms. And I killed a girl. My god, what would Allie think?
The world went wobbly and I suddenly felt... what? The wrong. It seeped into me, and came from me. I had done this, my own desire and lust and hideous self had morphed into a monster, a Kali that strangles the only person who would understand. A leg suddenly sprouted from my torso, half-formed and twisted, foot clawed like a talon, or one of those Chinese woman's bound feet. I stared as new perspectives opened up, and I saw the room from different angles. I realized I was growing new eyes, some functioned well, others only saw fuzziness. My mind scrambled to make sense of all of the new input as my horror and fear multiplied. It cascaded into new mutations, as limbs and organs and flesh sprouted from every bit of my body. My mind gave up, left, broke, fled into darkness.
A new room swam back into view, seen from every direction, incomprehensible flesh everywhere. I couldn't move. Couldn't speak, and nearly slipped back unconscious when I saw Jenny walk into the room. She wore a white doctor's coat and held a clipboard, which she consulted through a pair of slim glasses.
"Hello Jack. I would ask how you're feeling, but I think I can guess." Jenny said.
"I know you've got questions, but you seem to have lost your ability to speak... scans show no more vocal chords, so it'll be hard for you. You've been a beautiful test subject, by the way. I do wish you hadn't killed my clone, though. She took years to perfect. She did serve her purpose. Now we can see the results of what strong emotions do to the particular modification we gave to you. Things will obviously need to be tweaked if we want to market this to the populace. Imagine, though... being able to sculpt our own bodies how we want. Need extra arms? Just think it and voila. A larger dick? What man could resist? More eyes, better eyes, more or fewer senses to focus on certain objects. Imagine the music that will be possible when we aren't limited to the body plan we are given. Imagine that we can change our mind's house, our soul's room, our self, on the outside as easily (more easily, even) as we can on the inside. You have been invaluable in realizing the dream of a human race able to forge its own image through desire alone.
"As for your current condition... I'm afraid you've mutated beyond what we expected. Your metamorphosis has damaged some of your critical systems. We expect that you will die from either renal, pulmonary or heart failure within a few days. I'm sorry there's nothing we can do to stop it. I'm sorry it came to this. I'll be back in a little while to run some more tests. If you want, I can stay and sit with you. I wouldn't want you to be alone during this."
She turned and left. A dozen eyes wept. A brilliant broken mind slipped back into madness.
Recent Game Medals
Total Medals Earned: 18 (From 7 different games.)