Transformations: Morpheus Ch. 02

***

She left the room with her clothing intact, despite my best efforts.

Five minutes later, I was bored. There was no television in the room, no radio.

I began to pace back and forth.

A half hour later, Thompson came in, happily without Stafford.

"I need books," I said.

"What kind of books?"

"Any kind of books. Trashy novels... no! Textbooks. Math, science, engineering." I was still pacing. "Philosophy, religion, science fiction, history. Medicine! I need medical texts."

"Okay, Eric, I'll have some books for you within an hour."

I nodded. I felt like I was on speed. "A television and a radio as well. Magazines. Oh, and for fuck's sake, can I please go to my apartment and get my art supplies? I need paint and canvas."

"Eric, we'll get them. Are you okay?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"Eric, you're literally running back and forth."

I stopped and looked down at my feet. At some point, I had ceased pacing and had begun jogging.

"What's going on right now?" He asked. "What are you thinking?"

"It's... like I'm hungry. But, not for food. I'm hungry for books, knowledge."

"Have you eaten?"

"What? No, I don't want to slow down..."

"Eric, eat. We will get you books and everything else you've asked for, but you're beaded with sweat. I think your metabolism has gone up. You need to eat and relax."

"I need the books, Thompson!"

He backed out the door. "We're on it. Just hang on."

***

An hour later I had a stack of medical and science textbooks in front of me with a promise of many more. They rolled a television into my room, and I turned the knob looking for news and educational programs. I let it drone in the background as I went through page after page of Grey's Anatomy.

I turned on the radio to a classical station.

Melody came in a few minutes later. "Little loud isn't it?"

I looked up from Grey's Anatomy and smiled. "Is it?" I pointed at the radio. "You hear that?"

"Um, Beethoven?"

"Mozart. Can you hear it?"

She smiled at me. "The music?"

I laughed. "No! The numbers. The numbers in the music. The mathematics? The music is art, but its also math."

"Okay," Melody said. "If you say so."

"And it's the same math as this," I said and held up the anatomy book. "The human body, its all about math. Everything is balanced mathematically, Melody." I couldn't stop laughing.

She glanced at the television. "What are you watching?"

"Uh, weather report. It's wrong."

"It's wrong?"

"Yeah, they're saying that storm is going to develop into a hurricane - it's not. It's going to die out east of Puerto Rico." I stared intently at the anatomy book. "Come here."

She walked toward where I sat in the chair beside the bed. "How do you know what the storm will do?"

"Hmm? Oh, they got the math wrong. Transposed a number when they were figuring the probability. Computers won't make that mistake."

"And you got all that from watching the news while you were studying..." She peered down at my lap. "...female anatomy. I might have known."

"Yeah, and I read three books on meteorology. Spread your legs."

"Excuse me?"

"Come on. I have a hypothesis and I need to test it." I looked up at her.

"Can I get dinner and a movie first?" She laughed.

"Will they let us leave?"

"Actually? No. None of us can leave. I mean, I guess Stafford and Thompson can. They put up quarantine signs outside saying the building is off limits due to measles."

"Well, sorry, no dinner no movie." I ran my hands up the back of her stockinged thighs and pulled her close, kissing the hem of her skirt.

"God, have you always been like this?" She whispered.

"Yes." I gently parted her thighs, pushing up the hem of her dress at the same time.

"God!"

I kissed the top of her stockings and then the front of her white lace panties.

Her breathing increased as I began to lick the panty crotch over her clit. The nubbin within was small but beginning to swell.

Her fingers wound in my hair and she whispered a moan.

I leaned back and smiled up at her.

I took her right wrist in my left hand and felt for her pulse.

"What are you doing?" She murmured as she stroked my hair.

"Taking your pulse."

"You're taking my pulse?" She giggled.

"Yes. You should stop wearing panties."

"I am not going to stop wearing panties."

I was waiting. Waiting on her pulse to calm, waiting on the music to change. "I have this theory."

"Mm, hmm?" She whispered. She had her eyes closed.

Her pulse dropped.

Bach came on.

I gently stroked her clit through the panties with my index finger.

She gasped.

I smiled. "It's all about math."

"Uh, huh?"

"Listen to the music. Your body is vibrating from the sound. And, if I stroke you in time with the music?"

"Oh, God!"

I laughed. "It's all about vibrations and finding a harmonic between the music, your heart rate..."

"Uh, huh?"

I smiled. "And your nervous system."

She went rigid and dropped into my lap, the crotch of her panties soaked as she orgasmed.

I kissed her and she screamed into my mouth.

She curled into a ball on my lap.

"See? Math is fun."

She burst out laughing.

***

Stafford and Thompson stood in a room on the fourth floor and stared at the black and white monitor.

There was a camera hidden in the ceiling of Eric's room, and they had watched everything that happened.

"His intellect is increasing," Dr. Thompson said. "Finally, we got what we were looking for."

"Yeah, we got a guy who can predict weather and make a slut cum," Stafford grumbled.

"No, we now have a man with an unlimited intellect and a photographic memory. He read five books this afternoon - two of them at the same time."

Stafford clenched his fists. "We had better than him. Good men who were smarter to begin with. Soldiers who knew how to follow orders. And instead? We have this freak. I'm going to move the operation to the east coast. Try one of the ivy league schools."

"No," Thompson said.

"LBJ will be out soon, Thompson. The Viet Nam clusterfuck is going to doom him. This will transition to military control when Nixon wins. Just like it should be. Then I'll be giving the orders."

"Perhaps, but, until then? This is my project, Colonel. And, I say we work with Eric."

"And when he fucks up?"

Thompson smiled and shook his head. "He's a good kid, Colonel. I don't think he's going to fuck this up at all."

***

Melody stepped out of Eric's room and straightened her skirt as she closed the door. She smiled. In the midst of all this horror, she had fallen in love with Eric Morrison. And she was fairly sure the feeling was mutual.

She turned and almost ran straight into Head Nurse Marapova.

The woman stared down at her with disdain.

"You scared me," Melody laughed.

"Are you fucking him?"

"Excuse me?"

"Are you deaf? I asked if you are fucking Eric Morrison? Your patient?"

"Is there something wrong with my job performance, Maria?"

The tall blonde Russian raised an eyebrow. "We are under scrutiny here, Nurse Hutchins. If the doctors or Stafford find out about the 'extra services' you are providing Mr. Morrison, they will dismiss you... at the very least."

Melody put her hands on her hips. "Yeah? And what do you think their reaction will be to two of their nurses making love?"

Maria took a step back, her icy calm exterior cracking for an instant.

"Oh, yes, I know, Maria. I know all about it."

Maria swallowed. "If you say anything, Evie and I will never work again. Not just here, nowhere in the Bay Area. Would you do that? To her?"

"Of course not," Melody said. "I know how to keep a secret. Do you?"

Maria nodded and looked away. "Please. Just be careful."

"I will. You do the same. Now, if you'll excuse me? I need to get Mr. Morrison his dinner and draw his blood."

***

Dr. Simon Balenger stood in Dr. Thompson's office and looked nervously back and forth between Thompson and Stafford.

Thompson was reading the report Balenger had prepared on Eric Morrison's blood work. Thompson shook his head. "Human Growth Hormone?"

"Yes," Balenger said. "At levels someone who was still growing would have. I'm seeing evidence of bone growth."

"In a thirty year old," Thompson whispered.

"There's more. His immune system is strengthening, his testosterone levels are climbing steadily, muscle growth has increased without meaningful exercise."

"Are you telling me he's going to be some kind of fucking giant?" Stafford asked.

Thompson shook his head. "I doubt it."

Stafford smirked. "You doubt it? Jesus..."

"We're in uncharted territory, Colonel. The gods were, almost without exception, described as tall and pleasing in form. I think it's a safe assumption that Eric Morrison's transformation will be similar."

"Unless he's a Titan," Balenger said.

"Huh? What's a Titan?"

Thompson winced and glared at Balenger. "Titans were giants the gods defeated."

"Goddamn it," Stafford hissed.

"Anything else, Dr. Balenger?" Thompson asked.

"Well, yes, actually. I was wondering if I might go home?" Balenger asked. He shifted nervously under Stafford's gaze.

"Why?" Stafford asked.

"My... wife, Colonel. She isn't used to being alone. If I could just drive home in the evening..."

"No," Stafford said.

Balenger looked at Thompson.

"Don't look at him! The United States Army is handling security, Dr. Balenger. I said no."

Thompson rolled his eyes. "Simon, Stafford is correct. We need to stay here in the building focused on Eric Morrison. You understand what is at stake here?"

"I do. However, if I'm not allowed to go home once per day? Well, I won't be interpreting any more lab results for you."

"What did you say?!" Stafford growled.

Dr. Thompson held up his hand. "Stafford? Just wait a moment..."

"Jeff, you know I'm the best doctor in northern California. You get anybody else for this, you'll need to bring in somebody new who doesn't know anything about the case. I'm just asking for eight hours in Sausalito with my wife."

"Find his replacement, Thompson," Stafford said. "And, just so you know, Balenger? When the intel guys get done with you, you won't be able to get a job selling band-aids. We'll yank your medical license..."

Balenger went pale but stood his ground.

"Simon, what if we brought her here?" Thompson asked.

"This isn't a goddamned hotel, Thompson," Stafford said.

"It's whatever it needs to be to get this job done."

***

Sausalito, CA

"Constance Balenger, you're the luckiest bitch I know," Regina Morgan laughed.

They were lying on lounge chairs by the pool at Constance's house.

The house was one of the largest in Sausalito, made of white stone with a red tile roof.

Constance Balenger was thirty-five years old with a tanned, voluptuous body and jet black hair that reached to the middle of her back. "Luck had nothing to do with it. I made appointments with every doctor in this town till I found Simon."

"What kind of doctor is he?"

"Research Endocrinologist - he studies hormones and that kind of shit. Pity the poor thing doesn't have any himself."

Regina laughed. "You're wicked, Connie."

"You have no fucking idea," Constance said and leaned over.

"Ooo, hi," Regina whispered as Constance kissed her.

Constance sat back and winked.

"So, Simon isn't coming home tonight?"

Constance shook her head and smirked. 'No. Limp dick got caught in some quarantine at Berkeley. They say it might be weeks before they let him come home."

Regina laughed. "You poor thing. Whatever will you do without your husband's cock to keep you filled up?"

Constance fell back in her lounge chair and laughed. "It's about the same thickness as a pencil. Seriously, I can barely feel him in there."

Regina was rolling on her chair.

Inside the house, they could hear the doorbell ring.

A slow grin spread across Constance's face.

"Who's that?" Regina asked.

"I'll give you a hint: their dicks are a lot thicker than my husband's."

"Constance! You didn't!"

"Oh, I did." She hopped up and adjusted her big boobs in the black bikini.

Her hips swayed as she went through the sliding glass doors into the house.

A moment later she emerged with a tall, skinny man with long, curly black hair in tow. She reached down and cupped the bulge in the crotch of his cutoff jeans. "Regina, you remember my dealer, Kyle, don't you?"

Regina smiled and bit her lower lip. "Oh, yeah. I remember you. Who's your friend, Kyle?"

A second man emerged from the house. He had long, straight blonde hair and a full beard.

"That's Abe." Kyle reached down and cupped Constance's big left breast. "Crank up the stereo, baby. Let's get the party started."

She leaned up and kissed him, and then disappeared into the house. A few seconds later The Doors began singing "Light my Fire." She re-emerged from the house with two fifths of Vodka.

Kyle scooped her up and she laughed.

Abe walked over and sat down beside Regina. "Mind if I..."

She scooted over into his arms and they kissed.

Kyle set Constance on her feet, and she knelt down and set the bottles of Vodka on the concrete. Then she smiled up at Kyle as she unzipped his cutoffs.

His eight inch cock emerged from the fly and Constance sucked her way down his length.

Behind her, Regina had already shed her swimsuit and sighed as Abe went down on her blonde pussy.

***

Stafford cursed at the dirty hippie who refused to step out of the way of his Ford. The Maze, the name given to the tangled route through downtown San Francisco to the Golden Gate Bridge took him close to Haight-Ashbury, and this was the so-called Summer of Love when hippies basically owned the area.

The disheveled druggie in the crosswalk peered through his windshield and slammed his palms down on the Ford's hood when he saw Stafford's uniform.

Stafford reached beside him on the seat and set his Colt 1911 on the dashboard.

The hippie's eyes grew big and he backed away mumbling and waving his hands.

The roadway was cleared, and Stafford rolled through, smiling at the hippie.

He hated San Francisco, drugs, and commies. Now, here he was knee deep in all three. He stewed behind the wheel as he threaded through lefts and rights toward the Golden Gate Bridge and Sausalito beyond.

Thompson was a genius, but he was also a fucking pain in the ass.

They should have stuck with the original plan of using soldiers, engineers, and scientists instead of Thompson's tactic of finding 'non-traditional' thinkers.

Goddamn Eric Morrison. Even if he now had an unmeasurable IQ, he was still a fucking hippie waste of space.

And now he was running a fucking taxi service for doctors' wives.

He pulled onto the bridge and headed north toward Sausalito.

***

Kyle was too big for her to take all the way down her throat, so Constance was jacking him with her right hand while sucking his thick head. With her free hand, she rubbed and caressed his thick, hairy balls.

Behind her, she could hear the slap, slap, slap of Abe's nuts as he fucked Regina missionary on the lounge chair.

"Goddamn, now I see why he said he didn't want to leave you alone," a voice said. "Mrs. Balenger? Are you the brunette whore or the blonde getting stuffed?"

Constance was shocked enough to stop sucking, but she still kept her hands moving.

Regina and Abe were oblivious to the Army Colonel standing just outside the sliding glass doors.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Oh, the brunette blow job artist. I'm Colonel Carl Stafford, United States Army. Your husband works for me."

"Shit," Constance whispered. "Get out!"

Stafford smiled. "Okay Mr. Natural, you're going home with blue balls. Stop jacking him off, Mrs. Balenger."

"Fuck you, G.I. Joe," Kyle said. He guided Constance's lips back to his dick.

"You got a draft card on you, junior? I make a call and you're in basic training by Saturday soaking your sore nuts in a rice paddy by Thanksgiving."

"Fuck," Kyle said as he pulled his dick away and tried to stuff it back in his cutoffs. "Sorry, baby. I ain't goin' to Nam."

"Unnh, can I at least finish?" Abe asked as he continued pounding Regina.

"I don't give a fuck. Knock the blonde bitch up as far as I'm concerned."

"Jesus, I need to fucking cum," Kyle groaned, unable to force his cock back in the tight denim.

"Use the blonde's mouth," Stafford said.

Kyle waddled over to the lounge chair.

Regina was too close to her own orgasm to evidently care. She sucked Kyle's cock into her mouth as Abe fucked her harder.

Constance just stared at her best friend getting double teamed while she was left wanting.

"Get your fat ass upstairs and pack. You're joining your loving husband in quarantine."

She stood up and glared at him. "My ass isn't fat, you motherfucker! And I'm not going anywhere!"

He walked toward her and loomed over her. "Get your ass upstairs and pack or I'll go back to Berkeley and tell your husband about your pool side orgy."

Constance swallowed hard and headed for the house just as Abe and Kyle finished at the same time, Abe deep in Regina's pussy, Kyle in her throat.

"Now, you two take the blonde slut and get the fuck out of here."

***

"What the hell, Melody?" Evie Price whispered at the nurse's station.

Evie wasn't due for shift change for three more hours.

"Maria told you," Melody said with a sigh.

"Of course, she told me! You threatened us?!"

Melody took her hands and got her to sit down in the chair beside her. "Yeah, but I didn't mean it. I'd never do anything to hurt you, Evie. I wouldn't even do that to Maria. But she threatened me first."

"Messing with the White Witch is a dangerous thing, hon."

"White Witch?"

Evie laughed. "That's what they used to call Maria in World War II. She was part of this group of female bomber pilots the Germans used to call the 'Night Witches'. Her friends called her the 'White Witch'. Seriously, she'll beat the shit out of you if you piss her off."

"I'm sorry. It's just... I panicked, okay? If they made me leave..." Melody looked away.

Evie smiled and touched her face, turning her back to look in her eyes. "Holy shit, you love him?"

Melody smiled shyly. "I know it's insane."

"Insane? Fucking romantic is what it is! Dish!"

Melody laughed. "He's just... he's not like any other guy I've ever met, Evie. He's smart and funny and... a total pervert."

"All positives."

"I know. He makes me laugh. He stimulates my mind." She turned red. "And he can make me cum like the Fourth of July."

"Tell me he has a brother."

"Only child, sorry."

"Just my luck."

Melody looked both ways. "I thought you were into Maria?"

"Oh, I am. She pushes all the right buttons, but she and I are just bed buddies. I don't know who's going to tame the 'White Witch' and melt that icy heart, but it won't be Evie Price. Besides, I like boys and girls, she's strictly pussy."

Melody laughed and turned red.

"And I want a baby. I mean I really, really want a baby, Melody. Maria is amazing, but she's missing the tools for that job." She grinned. "Speaking of tools. How's he hung?"

Melody looked away, beet red. "You're terrible."

"Come on! You know about my exploits beneath the sheets. How big is it?"

"I... I'm not sure. I haven't measured it," Melody giggled.

"Show me with your hands."

"Huh?"

"Hold your hands apart and show me."

"I... don't know. Like... this?" She held her palms apart.

Evie looked at them and laughed. "No, honey, that's like at least ten inches."

Melody nodded.

Evie stopped laughing. "No fucking way," she whispered.

"I'm terrified."

"He's that big?"

Melodie nodded. "He hasn't put it in me yet. I mean, I felt it through his pajamas... I'm scared."