3 SUM (8 page)

“Now let's see how the little soldier responds to real pain,” said a lab rat, holding a sterilised needle. I was beginning to feel like a pin cushion.

She prodded and poked, but I stood firm. Then she brought out its friend, a spiked cog on a roller, and proceeded to travel the shaft.

Even the metal rod couldn't dampen my ardour, as it slid further inside, up and down, back and forth.

Anais had obviously seen enough, and clapped her hands.

“OK that's all for today,” she said.

I sighed with relief.

“We can start all over again tomorrow.”

Damn these women.

I was handed a magazine on the mummification rites of ancient Egypt, and ordered to read. Whilst I was deflated on page three, they slipped on a plastic cage, but it didn't have spikes and was two sizes bigger.

“I don't want you to ruin anything,” said Anais, “and I don't want to ruin you, just yet.”

“Indeed not, my dear Colonel Anais Eve,” said the un-young scientist entering the room. His lab coat was rich with golden thread, and his swagger was as big as his name badge; I guessed he was important.

“No need for formalities, my dear Professor,” said Anais.

He looked at me, as if down the barrel of a gun and I was in his sights. Someone handed me my clothes, and I quickly slipped them on.

“Allow me to introduce myself, Valery 01. Professor Cygnus Caveat. I've been watching your progress for quite some time.”

I was still staring at his name badge.

“That's right, I have no number,” he said.

His hair was thin, grey, and his face covered in craggy lines. He should have moisturised years ago.

“I helped Vespertina back in the day,” he said, smiling like a fairy godfather.

I'm sure he wasn't the only turnpetticoat, but what did he do now?

He clicked his fingers, and a book of calculations was placed in his hand.

“Impressive, but haven't you forgotten something?”

The lab rat looked at her notes, turning bright red before stammering, “Circumference.”

“That's right,” said the prof, “thickness counts too, my dear. I should know,” and he winked at the girl, causing her further embarrassment.

“I'm on Lusterone,” she said, trying to compose herself.

“My first breakthrough,” said the prof. “Lucky you.”

“Oh, how ill mannered,” he returned his attention to me. “I'm ignoring our guest. Well keep it up, Valery 01, so to speak. Splendid job, no really, splendid. Oh and your name, doesn't really fit anymore, does it? Now you're Valiant 01, got it?”

“Got it,” I replied with my chest puffed out.

“You'll need a razor from now on,” he said, “for your face.”

I stroked my chin; I was bristling with excitement.

“Where from?” I asked.

Too late, he was gone. Anais wiped her brow.

“You should know, Valery, sorry Valiant 01, the Professor advised I choose you for this experiment,” said Anais.

“Why? How?”

“Data, of course. He can access anyone's personal database.”

“But ...”

She placed her finger to my lips, and I wanted to kiss hers.

“Don't ask too many questions, not yet,” she said.

I wasn't in the mood to argue. I just wondered if her body wanted mine just as much. But even before she clapped her hands I could hear the heels of my guardian shemales approaching. How was I supposed to sleep tonight? I couldn't get her out of my head.

Chapter Thirteen

I was staring at the night sky, wondering if I was moon-struck or love-struck. Certainly something felt different, but I still wasn't sure what I wanted; I had no experience. I was convinced Anais would fall into my arms at some point, but when and could I wait? I tried on my new clothes out of loneliness, boredom.

I opened a packet of tartan socks, crisscrossed purple and red. Brand new and laddered, but I wouldn't be taking them back. I reached for my sewing kit, and saw the token. Quickly I laced up the vintage gothic boots. Torn hosiery had a desperate appeal, and I was feeling pretty desperate.

I remembered Danny 55, and the Judge's boots, dirty, exciting. Now that I had a sex drive, should I drive it underground to Mason? Feelings of love, lust, surged through my body; I was pulsating, vibrating. Perhaps female authority was stamped on my soul, in which case my passion could only be sated by swimming in subservience.

A black spider, maybe a widow, was on the wall watching me. I quickly searched for a suitable swatter, before picking up the glass that had held my toothbrush. I lifted the window, not glancing back, and I and the arachnid were suddenly both free, alive. We understood the meaning of captivity and fear.

Three floors up, I slid down the drainpipe light as a feather, but not a white one; I was courageous. The Lake, Tilda's Boat House, was an hour's run away. I'd cut across the woods, not for speed but cover. My tank was full of testosterone, tostestalone, or whatever they wanted to call it, and risks now felt challenging, not crippling.

Across the Lake the lights were out, but Tilda's had wooden shutters on the windows. I jogged, in hope, along the path.

I was brazen enough to tag behind the crossdresser with the smudged lipstick. He'd wandered out of nowhere, and I followed him down the wooden boardwalk to the entrance.

“First time?” asked the female at the door; she was in mufti, I was in a leather dress.

I looked up at her, and nodded. She was in charge and knew it, but it was a different sense of authority. Not quite mutual respect but one of immediacy, intimacy, between user and abused, dominatrix and her sub.

“Token?” she asked, holding out her hand.

I handed her the coin Danny 55 had given me. She looked at it, bit it, and then returned it.

“You'll need it for later,” she said.

“Where's the free ride?” I asked.

“Take a look in the mirror; you'll soon find it.”

I smiled, at least I'd been broken in at the office, but I wanted to take a good look around first.

Lartley 87 from Rinse Gardens brought me a drink, vodka.

“I'm not surprised,” he said. ‘It's always the quiet ones.”

“I just like my privacy,” I said.

“Oh don't worry, there are rooms upstairs. Not everyone likes to put on a show.”

“How?”

Lartley sighed.

“Your token,” he said, “what's the number?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“OK, when one of the Madame's shouts it out, just follow her.”

“That's it?”

“Oh don't worry, Valery, she'll make all your dreams and nightmares, come true.”

A guy walked by in nipple clamps; it was Coussan 6. He looked whipped, literally.

A female came close, whispered in my ear.

“I hope I get you. I just love the newbies,” and she bit my ear.

There was something strange about her hands, or perhaps not, considering where we were.

“Walrus teeth,” she said, noticing my stare.

She wore finger claws attached to silver rings.

“I'd love to put you through your paces,” she said.

Her face was pretty, an angel with a demon's heart. I'd dreamed of her many times before, but the screams coming from upstairs no longer stiffened my intent. She was right though; I was pacing, to the exit. I did a double take on my way out, was that Gillian and Claire?

I was outside again, but not completely in the cold; I had Anais. I looked over my shoulder, no one was behind me.

Chapter Fourteen

No one came for me, nor woke me up. So I made my own way for breakfast. Anais was waiting, and waved me over to her table.

“So, where did you get to last night?” she asked, stirring her coffee.

I still had a sore head from the ice cold vodka and night, and now it was spinning. Of course, they'd checked my room.

“Oh don't look so worried,” she continued. “I half expected it now that your tanks are full.”

“Really?”

I was relieved.

“Of course you need to explore, invade new territory. So tell me, who was the lucky woman?”

“No one.”

“Man?”

“I'm not gay.”

“Solo?”

“I'm not into solitaire.”

“I'd better put the lab rats on alert. Today is the last injection, a stabiliser. Then it's your turn to hold the syringe. I thought that would put a smile on your face.”

I grinned further.

“You sure you'll know where to stick it, given the chance?”

“I get confused easily, Colonel, perhaps you could show me.”

She wiped her mouth with the serviette and stood up.

“I don't think you want to miss your last appointment.”

“No,” I replied, and was left to make my own way to the lab.

One final injection and my hormones would be permanently restored as, I hoped, nature intended. Maybe that would be even higher; hell, didn't we have a war to win? And I was their prototype, protégé. There could be more to follow, but would I want them following Anais?

The lab rats had turned into sex kittens, the white gowns replaced with short skirts, hosiery, and heels. If this was an attempt to measure the greatest circumference it worked, and they all looked suitably impressed. I guessed it was no coincidence they discussed their dorms.

I hardly felt the injection in my posterior, and there was one last test to be recorded for posterity: the shopping trip. No Guards, just me and Anais. I was salivating as I heard her footsteps move ever closer, the taps in tune with the beat of my heart.

Anais was a sex bomb, and she'd just hit my target, boots replaced with booty. Flat shoes, we were on a shopping expedition, but sheer electric blue nylons, a pink knee length skirt, and a tight black shirt. I should have been quarantined; I was foaming at the mouth.

“Glad you like my outfit,” she said. “Let's go shopping. And, Valiant, this time you can take the lead. I want to see some initiative.”

I wanted her so badly, but now my libido had finally hooked up with my brain, I decided to play it smart. The fact she liked what she saw boosted my hand. How could I tell? The way her eyes lingered, the mirrored body language, and for once she seemed interested in what I had to say. The playing with her hair helped. Speaking of which, I needed a drastic makeover, and this time that meant no makeup.

There were no hairdressers prepared to give me a short back and sides. Instead I bought a pair of scissors. I was still forbidden a beard and moustache, but razors were unheard of. The prescribed cocktail had been our trimmer for facial hair. Eventually I threw in an electric razor from an antiques shop.

I was wearing my dark brown catsuit, feeling conspicuous, and was busy scouring the display windows for something a tad smarter, crisper, that marked me out as a lady's man and not a ladyboy.

There was nothing but men's chiffons, plaids, bell bottoms, and hipsters. A few shops were already stocking their autumn/winter outfits to get ahead of the game, but it was fake fur and corduroy with frills.

With a sigh of resignation, I led Anais to the women's outfitters, and we received our fair share of glances and disapproving scowls. Perhaps she would understand what it was like to be a man. A grey suit caught my eye, but the tranny refused to assist me until Anais flashed him her ID card.

The suit was packed by a wide mouthed crossdresser, alongside a white shirt. I gave him a wink and Anais threw in a slim black tie without the inconvenience of any additional payment. She had the pips on her uniform, even if it was back at the campus, and he was a pipsqueak.

After dismissing the fur-lined men's boots for a rugged terrain all weather women's pair, we were ready to head back for some head, or so I hoped. I insisted on carrying the bags.

We hardly spoke in the taxi. The crossdressing driver did it all for us, and all I could do was stare at Anais and drool like a fool.

“Don't speak,” she said as the door closed in her apartment and the bags hit the floor. “The bed's this way.”

But the banging was coming from the other side of the door.

“Damn,” she cursed before answering.

It was her guard of honour, the shemales, and I hated them more than ever.

“The surgeon general wants an update on your new toy,” said one. She stared frostily down her long crooked nose at me. I could sense the hate, the jealousy.

Anais hesitated, and the shemale looked over her shoulder, at her superior officer.

“Immediately,” she said. “Don't worry about packing, she's in London.”

“I'm coming,” said Anais, and suddenly I wasn't.

Still, I was certain we'd get another chance soon. After all, I was her toy.

Chapter Fifteen

Anais had been gone for two days, and I was both high and low. I liked the new me and the associated feelings; I felt alive, but I was worried too. What was taking her so long? Was Vespertina going to pull the plug on the experiment, on me? After all what had Anais said, ‘we need a new man who can fight without fighting off the opposite sex'? But I could think of nothing but sex, with a female. I wanted love, not war.

I decided to stretch my legs on campus. I begged my nervous shemale overseer to let me go it alone, and promised to be good. It took some flattery but even a newly qualified heterosexual sex addict like me could appreciate a great pair of legs on the third sex. I, on the other hand, dressed androgynous in trousers and a shirt.

It was in the canteen he surprised me. I was lazily sipping an iced tea when someone placed their hands over my eyes.

“Surprise, surprise. No, don't turn around. Who is it?”

I had hoped it was Anais, but the voice was distant.

“Vespertina?” I joked.

He removed his hands, and was standing in front of me. I was confused; he was in uniform. Dorian 3309 was in the secret police, PUSSI (Police Undercover Search Surveillance and Intel)?