Raising the Dead... Ch. 15

Raising the Dead, in Spite of the Natural Order: A Cautionary Tale

Chapter 15

Entirely possible that I oversold my confidence on the subject of my saving everyone from certain doom. I will own up to that. Not out loud or anything, and what they don't know won't hurt them. Right up until the point where it could possibly hurt them. But it'll be far too late by then anyways, and I don't expect it'll happen.

I do have a plan. It just isn't as concrete, or tested, or generally as complete as I made it out to be. But that can really be said about almost anything in science, at least when I do it. I didn't fully expect Eve's reanimation to work, but here we are. Of course, failure there wouldn't have meant certain peril for us all. Success did, yes, but we didn't know that at the time.

Still, if I can reanimate a dead brain and body, then controlling the living brains and bodies of the collective of yokels of this town, that don't understand the sacrifices required for greatness, should be a snap. I hope.

I won't bore anyone with the specifics of my plan. It's very intricate and would require a genius level intellect to comprehend, anyways. That's why it's so iffy to begin with, so many variables. On top of which, it's got so many levels of genius, that even I, Victoria F. Stein, struggle to understand the brilliance of my own plan.

That and everyone would bitch and generally be difficult about the whole thing. Cross to bear, yadda yadda.

What would actually, really help, is if I could find what I'm looking for in this colossal mess that is my 'not entirely successful projects' room. Not failed, as certain assistants like to call it. Nothing's cataloged or organized right. This is probably Iga's fault. If she can't get the name right, how can she organize it? I'm not sure if I asked her to, but it seems the most likely.

It's like the whole room is mocking me. So many different variations on ray guns, and all of them would solve the problem succinctly. Well, not the Micropenis Transfiguration Projector. That one would just be funny. But disintegrating an angry mob would have too many long term implications that would just make things worse. I'd end up having to destroy the whole town, eventually. Which would add an extra twenty minutes onto just about any errand I have to do, and also probably have some other negative consequences. And Eli would be upset with me.

I do believe, however, that I can use a variety of radio waves at the right frequencies to stimulate and inhibit certain patterns of neurons. Normally, the signal would be too weak to be relevant at any sort of distance, but if they're showing up on my doorstep, it might be enough. Hopefully it doesn't fry out anyone's prefrontal cortex in the process. Figuratively. And maybe literally. But that probably won't happen. I give it a good 40% chance that it absolutely, probably won't.

Eurek- No. That's not the one. Yeesh, I've tried to mess with people's brains almost half as much as I've tried to create a reliable death ray. And I could focus better if it wasn't for that weird, inconsistent slurping sound that I can't quite pinpoint. Almost like some amateur with no technique is giving a blowjob in here.

Oh.

It is actually kind of refreshing to occassionally be wrong. It's a change of pace from the burden of having to always be right.

Granted, I wasn't -that- wrong, but still incorrect in a very technical sense. I did not hear fellatio. But I did hear oral sex. Which, I don't know how you make that much noise by eating pussy, but here we are.

They're just in the next room. I'm not surprised to find Karen on her knees. Her position as being our not-sex slave kind of predisposes her to it, on top of the whole lesbian thing. Though I had thought maybe we'd converted her after the most recent foray. Old habits, I guess.

I am, however, surprised to find that it's Iga standing between her and the wall. One would have thought Karen would have needed to get some books or a stool for Iga to stand on to be at proper crotch height while on her knees. You know, because Iga is short. But Karen manages anyways. Hopefully she doesn't get a neck cramp from leaning downwards. I hate those.

It's also surprising because Iga's engaging in sapphic activities without the urging of any third party. It's typically been at Eve's urging. Or at my own. Which was just a means to arouse Eli, by the by. I'm not into that stuff. Except when it's a matter of sexual urgency. Mouths are mostly the same between men and women. I mean women have softer lips, but lack the firm jaw and rough stubble. I wouldn't be much of a scientist if I didn't take inventory of the particulars of each experience.

I digress. Iga is riding girl tongue of her own complete volition. I think she's perhaps finally accepting that she's an inferior woman, physically and intellectually, and that she'll never get a man of Eli's caliber on her own, and that she might as well avoid the disappointment by lezzing out.

I approve. Maybe she'll stop trying to bogart Eli's cock all the time if she goes full dyke. There are more important things to worry about at the moment, though.

I clear my throat, to no effect, so I try again, more loudly. Iga's eyes fly open and she gasps in surprise.

Okay, maybe that wasn't in surprise. That may have been more 'in cunnilingus' than 'in surprise'.

"This is getting the tarps?" I demand, raising my hands in the air.

"Already did it!" she gasps out, steadying herself on Karen's shoulders, "We only have like two. They're down in the lab."

"What?" I say, "That's nonsense, I very vividly remember there being at least-"

"Beetle-Pigeon incident," Iga succinctly reminds me, using Karen's hair as a handle.

"Oh," the memories come flooding back, "Oh right. Yeah those tarps, they... they needed to go."

I shiver a little at the memory, then snap myself back to the matter at hand. Namely, Iga liberating sexual fluids all over the floor of my storage room.

"That doesn't explain... this," I gesture at Karen continuing to bury her face.

"You didn't ask me to explain this," Iga retorts.

"I..." I pause, as she's actually, technically got me there, "Right. What is-"

"Exactly what it looks like," she proceeds to grind her pussy into Karen's face like a cat in heat.

"...Right. Why?" I ask.

"Aren't we kind of past the point of being weird about unexpected sexual activity among our housemates?" she points out.

"Fine, I guess that's fair. Just a little surprised to find you lezzing out up here," I tap my teeth, "Wait, no. What's the opposite of surprised?"

"Are you... ah," she clenches her eyes shut, "Are you seriously judging me on this? After you were using her face for a bicycle seat? Talk about dyking it up."

"Eli was otherwise occupied, that doesn't count!" I shout.

"Oh, I'm Victoria, I let my boyfriend fuck strange women and use that as an excuse to get all sapphic and act like it doesn't count, then pretend like other people are strange degenerates, but totally not me!" Iga performs a fairly unflattering impression of me.

I narrow my eyes at her and cross my arms, but she doesn't seem to notice. She's a bit occupied.

Karen pokes her head up from below, "I really don't mind it, I was so amazed with-"

Iga forcefully shoves her face back down, "Talking isn't licking!"

"Look, she's a little taken with our Eli," Iga says, turning to me, "She's become enamored with anal sex for some reaason, and she was following him around like she was expecting him to trip and fall into her ass or something."

"It is a very weird development," I say, examining the girl under Iga.

"I know, right?" Iga throws up her hands, then quickly moves them back to press Karen wit ha vacuum seal to her cunt.

"Probably completely natural though, and not the result of anything chemical," I make sure to point out.

"Eli and his cock need some rest, and she was all amped up, so I thought I'd give her something to occupy herself with," Iga says.

"And you're doing so in the storage room, because...?"

"Oh, I was looking for that AI-driven vibrator, see if maybe that could keep her busy. But no such luck, so I improvised," she explains.

"Iga that's a terrible idea. You do recall that thing's behavior?" I remind her.

"Yeah, but you broke its legs off before you put it up here, so its ability to do harm is minimized by at least like 30%," she argues.

It doesn't really matter. A robotic phallus with a personality disorder is a minimal problem compared to what's going on now, anyways, so no point in pursuing it any further.

"In any case, c'mon, I could use your help with finding what I'm looking for here," I turn to go back to what I was doing.

"Coming!" Iga shouts after me, but doesn't proceed to follow. Which takes me a moment longer to process than it probably should have.

Iga does actually manage to be of some use. When she finally joins me after concluding using Karen's face as a carnival ride, she joins me in my search. Most of what I'm looking for actually predates her arrival at the house, but she has enough of an understanding of science and technology that I can actually communicate to her what I'm looking for and she understands.

Mostly. I do have to break it down a little bit when she doesn't understand the difference between 'thing' and 'thingie', 'long' and 'longish', and 'humming' and 'buzzing'. But overall it's easier to convey the concepts to her than it would be to most people.

I do have to occasionally deal with her attitude about 'what exactly my plan is' and 'how this is going to help, even remotely'. It's not that I'm bothered by her asking, I can't properly convey all of this at the moment, and we're running short on time. It's more the skeptical tone she has, implying that what I'm doing is somehow not practical or helpful. She's seen me raise the dead, a little more faith in my abilities wouldn't be the end of the world.

We carefully set the sensitive pieces equipment into the wheelbarrow and we're off. I'm not sure why I had a wheelbarrow up here, but that's looking a gift horse in the mouth. Which may have been what happened, literally, because there's teeth marks from a large herbivore all over the rim and handles of this thing. I'm completely blanking on that one, though. Maybe for the best.

When we manage to get it down the stairs, which is hard with a wheelbarrow and kind of makes me rethink the usefulness of it, we find that Eve has indeed brought down the transmitter, as I requested. Among a few other pieces of equipment that are not the transmitter. I guess I didn't really describe it in detail, but she figured it out.

With that done, she has apparently elected to move on to more odd sexual shennanigans, right in the middle of the lab, because why wouldn't she.

She has Eli sitting in a chair, with her standing behind him. She's resting her hands on him, one pair holding his shoulders, the others on the sides of his head. She isn't holding him in place or anything, but I definitely get the impression that leaving that position is not an option.

She's not actually doing anything to him, just focusing him to watch Karen. Who is sitting in a chair across from them, completely naked and vigorously masturbating.

"Hey, Eve," I cautiously announce myself, "What's... um, what's going on?"

"Exposure and conditioning," she says flatly.

"...For whom?" I set the wheelbarrow down.

"Karen," she responds, "She must get used to being an object of arousal for Eli."

"I think she was already into it, last I saw," Iga says with a little snort.

"She has become very attached to heterosexual sex, in particular anal," Eve contines, pushing Eli's head back when he turns to acknowledge Iga and I, "but she currently sees him as just a walking penis, or elaborate dildo. She needs to be attracted to him as a man. She is not properly bisexual yet. We will fix that."

"That's... kind of sweet. In a psychotic kind of way. We need to do this right now?" I ask.

"It's best not to wait," Eve replies, "To get the maximum effectiveness out of conditioning, it needs to be frequent and it needs to be timely."

"...Even when we're in-"

"Yes," she promptly informs me.

"Right," I consider how to navigate this, "Look, I don't want to rush anyone. And I don't want to be all doom and gloom about this. But our very literal doom and the associated gloom do seem rather imminent, and maybe we should be using our time more constructively."

Eve slowly turns her head to me and instigates a look of... not quite anger, but certainly intense annoyance. That was apparently the wrong response.

"Eve, we are very much in real danger. Now I have a plan, but it doesn't involve masturbation," I say.

"You're free to prepare your plan," she tells me, and turns back, "We will continue here."

"Okay, but, Eve!" I snap, and her head snaps back to me immediately after, looking less than amused.

I continue anyways, "I need help with the equipment. The transmitter you brought down, especially. It's heavy stuff, and Iga and I are going to have a hard time without you or Eli helping."

She stares, "Don't you have something you created to help you move-"

"Yes I do, as a matter of fact, Eve, I have you!" I declare.

She just looks back, "I'll help you prepare your devices, if you help me with Karen."

"Thank you!" I sigh with relief, "I just need to... wait, what was that last thing?"

"Help me with Karen," she repeats.

"...How?"

She gives me a look like it should be utterly obvious. Of course.

I rub the bridge of my nose, "Fine."

I walk over to our guest who doesn't even appear to notice me at first. She's slouched down in her chair and knuckle deep in her cooch. She's... really into it. Writhing around, all sweaty, the whole works.

I doubt I can really help with this in any way that she doesn't have it handled already, but a deal's a deal, and I don't have the time to fuck around. Well, yes, we are fucking around, but you get my point.

Feeling a bit impatient, I grab Karen by the hair and hoist her up out of her seat. She cries out in pain and surprise, but doesn't fight me.

"All right, enough messing around," I promptly bend her forward and shove two of my fingers into her, from behind, "Hurry up and cum with my Eli watching so that you can get used to the idea of being a sperm receptacle, and so on and so forth."

"Fuck!" she shouts as I jam my digits into her.

She leans forward and steadies herself on the chair. Eli and Eve get a profile view of me working her, while she acts like and attention hungry whore.

"Very to-the-point, babe," Eli remarks, smirking at me.

I sigh, "The things I do for science."

"Does this really qualify as-" he pauses as Karen lets out a gasping moan, "-qualify as 'for science'?"

"It involves Eve. Transitive property," I yank on her hair as she slouches down, "Quit squirming."

"So I guess it's not gay if you're doing it for science?" Eli asks.

"Oh, don't you even start with me," I squint at him, elicitng a little laugh.

"Wouldn't the process of having Victoria work her defeat the purpose of conditioning Karen to want to focus on pleasing me?" Eli tilts his head up towards Eve.

I open my mouth to explain it, but Eve beats me to it.

She sharply pushes his face back down to observe us, "No. She is still aware that you are observing and the purpose of her being allowed to be pleasured. Whether she does it herself, or Victoria does is immaterial."

I nod, that was actually very on-point, "Thank you Eve. Boys just don't get science, sometimes."

"And since Victoria is directly beneath you in the hierarchy, it basically like you're doing it by proxy," Eve continues, after the point when she should have clearly stopped.

I furrow my brow, "What exactly is this hiera-"

"Oh god, oh fuck, I'm almost there!" Karen screams, quite rudely.

"Quiet, no one cares when you cum," I chide her, giving her ass a harsh slap.

Which seems to be what she needs to send her over the edge. But no sooner does her pussy start to clamp down on my fingers, than the room echoes with a series of loud bangs from the front door. We all jump in surprise at the suddenness, and I unfortunately manage to put Karen off balance, and she tumbles forward, along with her chair, crashsing to the ground mid-climax.

We all stare at one another, wondering if it's what we think it is, and if it's too late to do anything. Except Karen, she's busy fingering herself on the ground, trying to salvage her orgasm.

It doesn't even occur to me that Iga is not with us until I nearly crash into her as she comes down the stairs. Fortunately, her overall lack of mass means that she just bounces off of me and we both manage to stay on our feet.

"What's happening?!" she hurriedly asks, "Where are you going?"

"Where have you been?!" I reply with my own question.

"Setting up the cables for where you said you wanted the transmitter, right above the doorway," she informs me.

"Thats... very helpful, actually, thank you, Iga," I'm a bit taken off guard that she was being so productive.

"I might ask the same of..." she sniffs the air, "Nevermind. Who's banging on the door?"

"I don't know, but I'm certainly not answering it!" I shake her by the shoulders, "I need to get a better look without them seeing me, it can't be anything good."

I move her to the side and proceed upstairs, Iga in tow. An empty bedroom sits above and to the right of the front door, giving a clear view of what's in store for us down there. There's another loud knock before we get there.

"Get down, get down," I hurriedly whisper as we approach the window.

"I don't think they can hear us from down there," Iga whispers back.

Iga and I crouch beside the window and peer from behind the curtains. Okay, maybe 'clear view' wasn't accurate, the awning obstructs a full view of the porch, but it's enough to make it clear that there's multiple people down there. I don't recognize any of them, but then I probably wouldn't recognize any of the local plebians.

"How many do you see?" I whisper to Iga.

"Five? Maybe six?" she whispers back, "Why are we still whispering?"

"Stealth is a state of mind, Iga, you can't remain undetected if you don't remain in that state, whether they can actually hear you or not," I continue to whisper, "They do look a little agitated, but it's hard to tell from here. Is six enough to qualify as an angry mob?"

"Not a very effective one, at least," she replies, "Kind of limited in what they can do. More of a rowdy gang. I think it officially becomes a mob at ten."

"I'm a little insulted by their lack of committment to the endeavor, if I'm being honest," I say.

"There could be more coming. Maybe it's a first time mob and they just didn't coordinate properly," Iga speculates.

"Who is it at the door?" Eve asks, in full volume, standing in plain view of the window, from behind us.

"Eve!" I yelp, jumping and managing to bang my head surprisingly hard against the windowsil that, "Ow! Get down! They'll see you!"

"They don't appear to be looking in this direction, they're quite focused on the door," she dismisses my concerns, "Especially the one with the axe."

"At least cover your tits, Eve," Iga says, facepalming as if she can compete with me.

Eve is wearing her robe, actually, it's just not closed, thus defeating the purpose of its function.

"Why? My breasts are immaculate," Eve displays her humility, "More people should see them. And regularly."

"I mean, you're not wrong, technically speaking, but now is not really the time for anyone to see any of you," I try to explain.

"So maybe don't stick 'em in the window," Iga adds.

"Wait, axe?" I finally catch that and go back to peeking out the window, "Iga, was he there before?"