The Gathering Book 1Chapter 10 Getting Our Daily Quotient
- 2 years ago
- 23
- 0
Intelligence Quotient free porn video
Intelligence Quotient
by Prezelgirl
"I want to borrow your brain for a few days," said Vicky.
Vicky is my older sister. She's a junior in high school, while I'm just a
lowly 8th grader. Most of the time she's pretty cool. She hangs out with
me at home and gives me some advice on how not to be such a dweeb.
But I had no idea what she was talking about now.
"Um, sure whatever," I replied. "Yeah, you can borrow my brain."
She playfully smacked me upside the head. "I'm serious, dumbass! I
want to borrow your brain ... well, just the really smart parts of it. And
only for a few days. I've got the SATs next week and well..." she trailed
off and shrugged.
Vicky's a great sister and one of the nicest people you'd ever meet. But
she's not the smartest apple in the barrel. That was me!
"Okay, Vicky you can have my brain," I laughed. "When do I get it
back?"
"I told you, Daniel I'm serious," she said without a hint of amusement in
her voice. "I want to trade the school-type book learning smarts you have
for all the nonsense that's crammed in my head. And only through the
SATs."
"Vicky," I said as gently as I could, fearing my sister had finally gone off
the deep end. "I'm not sure if you're aware of this or not, but opening up
my skull and removing little chunks of my brain won't do either of us a lot
of good."
"I'm not going to do the swapping," she said. "We're going to use
Joshua's lab."
At this point, I suddenly grew VERY interested.
Joshua was Vicky's boyfriend. He lived a couple blocks away and had
some very well-to-do parents. His dad had been a research scientist at the
university, but had disappeared mysteriously a few years back. Though
no one ever found a body, he was eventually declared dead and Joshua's
mother (Mrs. Malaclypse) received a hefty life insurance settlement.
Joshua had been following in his father's footsteps it seemed, and had
used a good chunk of money in building a laboratory of his own in the
basement. Whenever he came over to our house, I used to pester him a
lot, trying to get a chance to see it. But he never let me come over.
"We're going to Joshua's lab?" I asked.
"If you're still interested?" Vicky answered with a smile.
I grabbed my coat and we were out the door just like that. On the way
over, Vicky told me Joshua was out of town tonight at some Junior
Science Convention or something. Normally he wouldn't let Vicky touch
anything in his lab either, though she had at least been down there and
seen it once or twice.
Apparently his father had left some notes and design schematics on a
thought-transference machine. According to what Joshua had explained to
Vicky, the machine could selectively move the memories of one person
into the mind of another. Joshua had tested it on some lab animals, but
supposedly hadn't done any research on human subjects yet. Vicky
wanted me to tinker with the computer he had rigged up to the machine
and see if I could program it to swap my book-smarts into her head.
I admit, I wasn't thrilled about the prospect of losing my intellect to my
sister, but I figured the machine probably didn't really do any of this stuff
anyhow. It would just be a neat chance to see Joshua's lab.
His mother met us at the door and let us in. Vicky told Mrs. Malaclypse
she had left some notes for school in Joshua's lab and we were just going
to pick them up.
We trotted down into the basement ... and WOW, it was awesome! There
were six computers networked together and a gigantic contraption the size
of a furnace, with exposed wires everywhere. I flipped through Joshua's
lab notes quickly. It seemed to be pretty genuine stuff. According to his
notes, the device could remote-target any subject within 20 feet of it's
transceiver.
"Can you do it, Daniel?" asked Vicky.
"I think so," I shrugged and started messing with one of Joshua's
computers. After about a few minutes I found the control software Joshua
had designed to run the device. He had some macros and templates
already loaded for human test subjects, so I didn't have to figure out how
to run everything. I target Vicky and myself, and clicked "okay" ...
Everything went black for a moment ... dark black and utterly silent. It
was only for an instant, but it seemed so much longer.
"Did it work?" Vicky asked hesitantly.
"Well, I felt something happen," I replied. "But I don't feel any dumber
now."
Vicky laughed. "That's not very nice, Dan! I'm not a dumb person. I just
don't share the same interests in math and science that you do."
She stopped abruptly and stood poised in thought for a moment. Then
suddenly she embraced me in a tight hug and spun around in a quick circle
with me, laughing.
"It WORKED Daniel! It WORKED!" she shouted.
"H-How do you know?" I asked confusedly.
"Because right after I said I didn't have your math and science abilities, I
suddenly remembered my math homework. The extra credit problem I'm
doing for Mr. Franklin's Trigonometry class? ... Except then I
remembered that Mr. Franklin teaches 8th grade math. That's YOUR math
problem. But I was thinking about it!"
I frowned. I remembered that I had Mr. Franklin's class and I knew that I
was doing some extra credit in there. But I didn't remember the specifics
of the problem. It seemed sort of vague and fuzzy. Actually, everything
seems kind of distracting and cloudy now. This must be the way Vicky
always saw the world.
"Well, I'm glad it worked, I guess," I said. "Maybe we should trade back
for now. And you can borrow my intellect, or better yet borrow Joshua's
for the day of your SATs."
"No can do brother of mine," she said. "Joshua already told me no human
experimentation with his machine. ESPECIALLY not involving his
girlfriend. So we have to keep this a secret from him, 'kay? That's why
we had to do it tonight. Tomorrow he'll be back and this is probably the
only chance we'll get before the SATs. But I promise that as soon as the
SATs are over, we will trade back intelligence at the soonest opportunity."
"But what if you decide you like being smarter better?" I asked worriedly.
Vicky laughed. "Daniel, you just don't get it. I liked being me. And I
always HAVE been a smart person. God, you're so stuck up sometimes!
But anyway, don't worry about this. You have my word of honor that we
will trade back at the soonest opportunity after the SATs ... no matter how
I feel about having your knowledge crammed in up here. We WILL trade
back. Feel better?"
She hugged me and I flashed a weak smile at her. I didn't feel that much
better. Actually, I felt kind of betrayed and tricked into going along with
this. I hadn't really believed any of this would work until it did. And now
it seemed too late.
Vicky drove us back home in silence, whereupon she immediately went
into her room to start studying. Vicky never studies, I thought to myself
as I plopped down on my own bed. My thoughts wandered lazily and I
found myself growing bored and restless. After about an hour, I stood up
and went to talk with Vicky. I bumped into her right outside the hall.
"I was just on my way to see you, Dan!" she said. "Um, I was wondering
if I could borrow a book from you?"
"Actually, I was kind of hoping I could borrow one from you," I replied.
Vicky blushed and stared at the floor, twisting her foot in the carpet. "Um,
actually ... this is embarrassing. Can I borrow one of your comic books? I
just suddenly want to read a comic book. One of your Green Lantern
ones, please?"
Vicky had NEVER been interested in comic books. In fact, she
continually chided me for reading them, telling me they were kids stuff
and not what the cool people should be spending time and money on. But
suddenly, I didn't care. I shrugged and we went back into my room. I dug
out a couple of comic books and handed them to her.
"Thanks so much, Dan!" she said. "Now what did you want to borrow of
mine?"
"Maybe not a book," I answered. "How about one of your magazines?
Like Cosmo or Seventeen or something?"
She laughed. "Sure thing, little brother. Not a problem."
We headed into her room and I returned with a big stack of glossy fashion
magazines. I immersed myself in them for the better part of the evening.
That night I had odd and disturbingly disjointed dreams. After a very
restless night, I staggered out of bed and headed for the shower.
Instinctively, I used Vicky's shampoo and conditioner, and was about
halfway through applying moisturizer to my body afterwards when I
realized what I was doing. This was more serious than I had originally
thought. I couldn't afford to go to school acting like my sister!
At the breakfast table I whispered to Vicky that he had to talk.
"Later!" she hissed back.
We headed off to school without "later" ever coming along ... I to Junior
High and she to Brookdale High School. I went through my daily routine
of classes without many incidents. In social studies I found myself staring
at Heather Diamond's sweater and thinking, "gosh, that's so pretty! I
wish I had one like it."
It was a cute sweater. A short one, more of a top really. Light pastel blue
in color with a bit of ribbing. And the most GORGEOUS skirt to go with,
black silk with a floral pattern.
But it was pretty disturbing to me to be thinking these thoughts. A couple
of times in class I found myself with my legs crossed girl-style. But other
than that, the day was just a hazy blur. I couldn't concentrate on my work
and found myself spending most of my time doodling pictures in my
notebook.
When I got home, there was no one else around. Mom must've been out
grocery shopping and Dad hadn't come back from work yet. There was a
note on the fridge, though: "Kids," it read. "We won't be back till late
tonight. Dinner is in the fridge. And clean up your laundry off the dining
room table."
Mom had gone and washed and folded all our laundry and had it neatly
piled in individual stacks on the table. I grabbed my stack and headed off
to my room.
But when I got there, I realized it wasn't my room I was in ... and it
wasn't my laundry I was carrying. I had an armful of my sister's
underwear and was standing in her room.
Just then, I heard a laugh from behind me. I whirled around and saw
Vicky giggling at me.
"Oh, it's all right Daniel," she said. "I almost grabbed your pile by
mistake as well."
I flushed beet red and found myself at a loss for words.
"I'm going through the same thing," she said. "I've been thinking your
thoughts all day long. And going through the motions of saying and doing
very 'Dan' type things! If you want to wear my clothes, it won't bother
me. Seems a fair trade, don't you think? My fashion sense for your brain
sense!"
She smiled at me again.
"I ... I wasn't really going to wear them," I stammered. "I just picked
them up without thinking."
"Daniel, don't worry," she said softly, hushing me. "Mom and dad are
gone for the night. I know how stressful this is right now. Though if I
were in my RIGHT mind, I'd NEVER want you wearing my stuff. But
let's face it: we're both literally not in our right minds. I think it would be
good if we both relaxed in each other's lives for a bit. It's been a stressful
day. How about if tonight, you wear my clothes and sleep in my bed and
I'll do the same with your stuff. We'll both feel better."
I nodded silently.
"Holler if you need anything!" she said and skipped off into my room,
jumped down onto my bed, and picked up another comic book.
Wordlessly I went into her room, closed the door, and contemplated the
stack of laundry in my arms. What would be so bad about it? It would, in
a strange way, feel more natural and comforting. And she had said it was
all right.
I stripped off my T-shirt and jeans, shoes, socks, and underwear and
stood naked before her floor-length mirror. God, my body looked
horrible. Small and scrawny.
Turning away in disgust, I stopped to pick up the pile of laundry I'd left
on her bed. I picked out a pair of light pink panties, not real lacy or
anything, but comfortable looking and pretty. I slid them on, and paused
for a moment wondering if I should wear a bra. I felt somehow that I
should. But it seemed bizarrely unnecessary. I picked through and found a
matching bra and put it on. It seemed such a strange device, but my
fingers worked the clasps as though I had been wearing bras for years.
Next I went over to Vicky's sock drawer and dug out a couple pairs of
socks and stuffed them into my bra. Standing in front of the mirror now, I
looked more ridiculous than ever. But somehow, I felt calmer and more at
ease. Not to mention prettier. It was the strangest sensation.
Quickly, I found a pair of designer jeans and silky chocolate brown blouse
to wear. I considered putting on make-up ... I instinctively knew how.
But I decided against it. That would be going to too much work, since I
was only going to spend a quiet evening at home.
I plopped down on Vicky's bed and flipped open another 'teen magazine.
Something was still missing though. I snapped my fingers and leaped out
of bed. Gotta have music! ... I popped in one of Vicky's favorite CDs into
her stereo, and then jumped back onto the bed. Now everything was right.
* * * * *
The next morning I awoke to the sound of an unfamiliar alarm clock. I
stumbled out of bed and found myself still in Vicky's room wearing a
long "Cathy" nightshirt. The funny thing was, I didn't remember putting it
on, though. If I was starting to behave in "Vicky-esque" ways without
even realizing it, we had a serious problem on our hands.
I quietly slipped out of her room and down the hall back to my own. She
was already awake, though was wearing one of my T-shirts and a pair of
my boxer shorts.
"Vicky, we've got a problem," I said.
"I know," she replied glumly. "I just woke up after having ... um ... a
rather erotic dream involving several girls from your grade!"
"We have to change back," I said.
"We can't," she answered. "Not right now at least. We'll have to wait at
least another week. You can make it until then can't you?"
I shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I mean I could barely get through
school yesterday. What's going to happen to me there?"
"If you're worried about your grades: don't be," she replied. "You've
stacked up enough high marks already that one week of being 'out-of-it'
won't kill you. Besides, you're at that age when people expect kids to do
weird things. Your teachers and friends probably won't give it a second
thought if you act up a bit this week."
"Vicky!" I exclaimed. "It's no big deal for YOU, sure. But I'm going to
get the crap beat out of me by every bully in school if I started
involuntarily doing girly things in class!"
I started sobbing and Vicky gently hugged me.
* * * * *
School went by MUCH better than I had feared it would. I mainly just
kept to myself and didn't socialize much with anyone. My teachers did
comment a few times that my mind seemed elsewhere, but Vicky was
right: no one was too concerned. No one noticed that I was behaving more
and more like my sister.
The worst that happened was that I spent awhile fantasizing about some of
the guys in my gym class. It was pretty disconcerting. But I found that
female sexual thoughts are much easier to repress than male ones.
Vicky and I continued to sleep in each other's rooms at night without
drawing any unusual attention. I wore her clothes to bed each night. And
she did the same with mine.
The problem we had now was that Joshua was back and had noticed
Vicky acting unusual. He didn't seem to catch on to what had happened.
But they began fighting a lot and didn't seem to see eye-to-eye like they
used to. My worst fears were realized when the day before the SATs,
Joshua broke up with Vicky.
I was in tears, hysterical. She told me everything would work out and we
could just sneak back into Joshua's lab the next night and fix everything
back to normal. If we got caught, it was soon enough after the breakup
that we could fabricate some story about coming over to beg forgiveness
and patch things up or something.
So Vicky took her SATs that day, and did remarkably well on them. She
tried calling up Joshua after she got home, but no one would answer the
phone.
"Relax Daniel," she told me. "We'll just go to Plan B. Meet me out in the
driveway around 3 a.m. okay?"
I went to bed, but couldn't sleep at all that night. I was out at the
driveway, pacing up a storm a full hour and a half before Vicky came out.
"Having trouble sleeping little brother?" she said with a smile.
"It's not funny!" I snapped. "I feel more like your little sister right now!
Let's just get this over with."
We walked over to Joshua's place under the cover of darkness. Vicky
knew that Mrs. Malacylpse had a habit of always leaving the back porch
door unlocked, so we crept in through there and snuck down into the
basement laboratory.
It was in shambles this time. It looked as though Joshua had totally
immersed himself in some new project that involved taking apart
everything component by component. I felt tears welling up in my eyes
again at the thought of being trapped with these feminine thoughts in my
brain forever.
"Hushhhhhhhhh," whispered Vicky. "It's all right. I recognize the core of
the thought transference machine. He's only making some superficial
cosmetic changes to it. We can probably still use it."
She sat down at a computer terminal and fiddled with some controls for
what seemed like an eternity.
"Well, it appears as though he's erased all the templates files that were in
here last time," she said. "So I'll have to come up with a new set of
instructions on the fly. It might not work perfectly, but here goes
nothing!"
* * * * *
Well, it worked and it didn't. It turned out Joshua had disengaged several
key safety overrides when he dismantled everything. He didn't really
know what he was doing when he built the device. He'd only been
following the blueprints and schematics left by his genius father. The
machine burned out and exploded, setting fire to the house. I screamed
and ran up the stairs. I'd gotten halfway to the front door when I realized I
wasn't in my own body anymore. I was completely physically Vicky ...
her thoughts and her body, with only a shred of my own original identity
left here.
I turned to find Vicky and saw nothing but the flames licking up from the
basement. I ran down there, through the choking smoke and dragged my
unconscious body out to the lawn. By the time I'd gotten there, I could
hear fire trucks in the distance. Someone had called the fire department.
Joshua and Mrs. Malaclypse came stumbling out of the house in a daze
shortly later.
As we watched the firefighters extinguish the blaze, we quietly huddled
together and sorted out what had happened. When the machine blew, it
had scrambled ALL our minds around. I was Vicky, but Vicky was now
in Mrs. Malaclypse's body ... STILL with all of my old booksmarts! Mrs.
Malaclypse had become her son Joshua ... and Joshua now inhabited my
former body.
Vicky and I confessed the story of what we had done ... after which,
Joshua had to confess to his mother that he even HAD such a machine in
the basement. We all tried to comfort ourselves with the thought that
maybe Joshua could rebuild the device and get us all back to normal. But
the truth of the matter was that all his father's notes were destroyed in the
fire. No tangible record of how this had happened remained. Sure, maybe
after a couple years of intense research he could construct a similar
machine. But he now had 8th grade trigonometry homework to contend
with as well.
I adjusted to being Vicky and actually found it pretty nice and relaxing
being a girl. Joshua doesn't seem too peeved about the situation either. He
says becoming an 8th grader again just means he has a couple of extra
years added to his life. Vicky is pretty upset, being a middle-aged woman
... but with another insurance check coming to her after the fire, she's a
WEALTHY middle-aged woman, and that seems to comfort her
considerably. Mrs. Malaclypse really came off the worst. Trapped in the
body of her own son ... and with no immediate hope of ever changing
back. She's sunken into a deep depression and hardly goes anywhere or
does anything. Vicky is talking about getting her into a counseling center
for therapy.
And I go off to college soon. That's the ONE good part about all this.
Vicky did SO well with my brain on those SATs that I managed to get a
full-ride scholarship. Of course, now that I have these clunky, confused
thoughts in my head, I'll actually have to WORK real hard to make it
through college. But I figure that's a small price to pay for becoming a
beautiful, well dressed, and soon-to-be well-educated woman.
(the end)
Lizbeth
- 16.03.2021
- 31
- 0
