Fiction
- 4 years ago
- 29
- 0
"Q" Is Fictional free porn video
Q is Fictional
By [email protected]
Bob Quincy lay flat on his back and watched the ceiling tile roll by. The
gurney was hard and the foam mattress provided little comfort for his 230-
pound frame. In a few minutes they would slice open his chest and tear his
ribs apart in an effort to repair arteries clogged with too many years of
careless living. Bob Quincy might never see another sunset, and that was
more disturbing than the pain. He always thought there would be plenty of
time to watch sunsets. He was still young, only 53, plenty of time.
"How are you doing, Mr. Quincy?" the nurse asked as they pulled to a stop.
"Been better," was all he could mumble from his swirling consciousness.
"What was that stuff?"
"Just a tranquilizer. It'll take away some of the anxiety." She patted his
shoulder. "The doctor will be here in a few minutes. Just try to relax."
"Right, that should be easy."
Bob tried not to think about the future. Keeping that positive attitude that
everyone talked about was a lot easier when you're standing up. His doctor,
long time friend Sam Able, told him he had an excellent chance for a full
recovery. He would be better than before the heart attack. Somehow Bob just
didn't believe it. He had felt himself growing weaker for the last few
years. It had caused him to retire from the fire department.
He wasn't able to do the work anymore. It was a terrible blow to his ego,
and his wallet, but he had no choice. The chest pains and shortness of
breath made it impossible.
"Hello, Bob."
Bob opened his eyes and saw Dr. Able standing over him wearing his green
hospital garb.
"Hey," Bob mumbled, "you look like a real doctor."
"And you look like a real patient." Dr. Able nodded to the nurse. She stuck
a needle into Bob's IV line.
"We're ready to start. Don't worry; I've done this on a frog in biology
class. It'll be much easier on you. You're so much bigger."
Bob began to laugh but felt himself being pulled away. The sights and sounds
of the hospital faded quickly as he sped into a black fog. An instant later,
Bob found himself standing in a darkened room. The room was about 14 feet
square and completely closed. There was no visible source of light, yet
there was a dim glow that allowed him to see. The floor, walls, and ceiling
were smooth, without any means of egress, or even any marks.
"Welcome, Bob. I've been waiting for you."
Bob spun around in a panic. "Jesus Christ!" Bob yelled. "Don't do that to a
man who just had a heart attack. You scared the shit out of me!"
The man standing behind Bob was tall and pleasant looking. He was well built
with gray hair and a reassuring smile. There was something uncannily
familiar about him.
"Terribly sorry."
A deep, primal fear was swelling within Bob. "Where am I? What's going on??
Am I dead?"
"No, you're not dead."
"Not dead is good," Bob said, patting his chest, still trying to coax his
heart back to normal. "What is this place?"
"Well," the man said, "there is no easy way to explain that. There are no
words in your language to say what this place is. Let's just say that you
are in a space between worlds. For lack of a better word, a netherworld."
"Netherworld?"
"Like I said, there are no words."
"Well, who are you? Are you an angel?"
The man laughed. "No, there are no angels."
"I suppose there are no 'netherworlds' either."
"Okay," the man said, "let's see if I can explain this. My name is Harlan. I
am a being from another place. We travel the galaxy? participating,
watching, maintaining order. We are the Continuum."
"The Continuum? You mean like on Star Trek?" Bob threw up his hands. "I am
dead! Or dreaming!"
"Try not to be upset," Harlan said. "The reference is accurate."
"Are you telling me that you're 'Q'?!"
"Members of the Continuum often take human form. One of our members took the
form of a writer for that show. He used the Continuum as part of a story.
'Q' is fictional. None of our members would ever do the things that he did
in the stories, but the concept is accurate."
"So you're an omnipotent, god-like figure from another planet."
"We don't like to be referred to in those terms."
Bob shook his head. "I gotta be dead." "You're not dead."
"What do you want from me?"
"We don't want anything from you," Harlan said with a reassuring voice.
"I've come to give you a gift."
"What kind of gift?"
"Something you've always wanted." Harlan reached out with his hand. "Come."
Bob refused to take Harlan's hand but followed. They moved through the
darkened room yet never came closer to the wall. They seemed to turn a
corner when a column of light appeared in front of them. In the center of
the column stood the most beautiful, young, blond haired woman that Bob had
ever seen. She was naked and motionless.
"She is for you," Harlan said.
"What?!"
"I've gone to great lengths to make certain that she was perfect," Harlan
said with a smile. "I've outdone myself this time."
"I don't understand," Bob said. "You're giving me this girl?"
"She is for you."
"I can't," Bob said with a shudder. "I'm married. My daughter is older than
her. I'd never survive a sexual encounter with her." Harlan laughed and
shook his head.
"I'm not giving her to you so you can have sex with her. I'm giving her to
you so you can be her."
Bob stood in stunned silence for a moment. "I don't know if you noticed,"
Bob said, "but I happen to be a man. What kind of trick is this? Who are
you? And why do you think that I want to be a woman?even a woman a beautiful
as this one?"
"Don't be afraid," Harlan said, touching Bob's shoulder. "It's okay."
Bob was now trembling. This was wrong. This was terribly wrong. He felt weak
and dizzy.
Harlan held Bob's arm and guided him into a chair that had not been there a
moment before. As Harlan placed his hand on Bob's shoulder again, Bob
suddenly felt perfectly at ease.
"Everything is fine, Bob," Harlan said. "Just try to relax."
Bob took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't understand. Why are
you doing this?"
"Do you remember being 5 years old?" Harlan asked. Bob shrugged.
"You were in Kindergarten. There were two girls in your class, Pat and Pam.
They were twins. Do you remember?"
Surprised, Bob brightened. "Yes, I do remember! We played together. Being
with them was great."
"Yes. Do you remember saying something to your grandmother when you came
home one day?"
Bob thought for a moment, and then it struck him like lightning. He nodded
his head. "I told her I didn't want to be a boy anymore. I wanted to be a
girl now."
Harlan smiled briefly. "Do you remember what she said?"
"She gasped in horror! 'You must never say anything like that again! Never!
Do you understand? That's a terrible thing to even think!'"
"And you never thought of it again, did you?" Harlan said. "At least not
consciously."
"I can't say that it never crossed my mind, but I'm not a transvestite or a
transsexual or a homosexual. I really am a man."
"Yes, I know," Harlan said. He looked Bob straight in the eye and gestured
toward the girl. "Go look at her. See if you recognize her."
Bob slowly approached the girl. The closer he got, the more beautiful she
looked. Her skin was flawlessly smooth. Just by looking at it he could
almost feel how soft it was. Every feature of her face was sculpted into
Scandinavian perfection. She was small, perhaps 5 feet 3 inches tall, but
built like an athlete. Her muscles were well defined and rippled under that
silky layer of skin. Her hair was bright, silky blond that hung thickly to
the center of her back. It was shaded from light, silvery blond to a rich
gold. Bob stood directly in front of the girl and looked into her
crystalline, icy blue eyes. She blinked.
He jumped. "My God! She's alive."
"Of course she's alive," Harlan said. "Her heart is beating, she's
breathing; she's a fully functioning human female."
"But she doesn't move."
"That's because she has no life force," Harlan said. "That must come from
you."
"What?"
"She is alive, but she has no life. She will not be complete until you step
in and become one with her."
Bob circled the girl, looking closely at every inch of her being. It
suddenly struck him. "Holy shit," he said. "It's Gretchen, isn't it? It's
Gretchen Carlson."
Harlan smiled and nodded.
"She is the main character in the book I wrote. Good Lord, it's really her!"
"She is everything you wanted her to be, and more. Actually, this Gretchen
is even better than the character you created. In fiction, a good character
has many hardships, flaws, and trials to overcome. I've removed most of
Gretchen's hardships. For example, she was never raped or molested. She
doesn't have to cope with all that fear and uncertainty. She is the best of
all you wanted her to be."
"Is she still a lesbian?"
"Yes. I knew that would be important to you." "She's smart?"
"Brilliant! Physics professor?just like in the story." "Music?"
"Pianist," Harlan said. "She's also a pilot and artist. All in all, a very
talented young lady."
"What about the money?"
"96 million give or take a million. It's all being handled by a New York
accounting firm."
"And all I have to do is step in."
"That's it."
Bob circled Gretchen again. He was awed by the prospects offered to him.
This was all too much to believe. Bob knew Gretchen better than anyone
could. After all, he created her. His book was a mystery novel about
crashing airplanes and unscrupulous businessmen who wanted her airfield to
build a shopping mall. As he wrote the book, he dreamed of being her, having
her money and flying her antique airplanes. Now he could do those things,
all of them. He could even sit at a piano and play Beethoven like a pro,
what a joy that would be. Then there were the sex scenes with another woman,
so wildly erotic and indulging Bob's deepest fantasies. And she was so
beautiful. More than anything, he dreamed of being good looking. Even for a
man he was unattractive. He was always grateful that his children looked
like his wife. Now he had a chance to be all the things, and have all the
things, he ever desired; not just a chance to be attractive, but a chance to
be magnificent. If you are going for good looking, why not go for the best
of all; and best of all will be a woman. Without a doubt, the most beautiful
human will always be a female. But there was going to be a price. There had
to be. In Bob's experience, nothing ever came without a price.
"What's the catch?" Bob asked.
"You'll have to trust me, Bob. There is no catch. Her entire life, up to
this point, has been programmed into her memories. And not just in her, but
in people who would have known her, teachers, friends, lovers,
acquaintances, business people, everyone who would have met her, or even
heard of her. It was quite a chore to create this for you. There are even
baby and childhood pictures, family photo albums and relatives in Sweden.
You have no idea what this took."
Bob stood there dumbfounded. "Why? Why would you do this for me?"
Harlan took a deep breath and sighed. "Do you remember an auto accident
about 6 years ago?"
"I was a fireman. There were a lot of accidents."
"It happened right in front of you as you drove home from work. You stopped,
took you firefighter's gear out of the trunk of your car, and came to help."
"Yes. There was a fire under the hood. It spread quickly. My extinguisher
couldn't put it out. I got the guy out of the car just before the gas tank
exploded. A piece of shrapnel tore my back open."
"You shielded me with your body."
"You?" Bob looked closely at Harlan. "Yes," he said. "It could have been.
That might be why you looked familiar."
Bob suddenly looked up. "Wait a minute! If you can do all these omnipotent
things why couldn't you help yourself? Or me! Or prevent the accident
altogether?"
"If I had done that, you never would have had the chance to save me."
"You mean it was a test?"
"It was an opportunity to prove you were worthy."
"Worthy of this?" Bob gestured toward Gretchen.
"Worthy of a second chance."
The chair that had appeared before was there again, right where it needed to
be. Bob dropped into the seat and rubbed his face with his hands. "A second
chance at life. That's a pretty special thing."
"It's an offer made only rarely," Harlan said.
"You've done this for others?"
"Yes," Harlan said. "In the history of humanity, it has only been done a few
hundred times. And never with the complexity of this project."
"Really? Why?"
"You love to ask questions, don't you?"
"I just want to understand," Bob said.
Harlan made a gesture and suddenly they were in a mahogany paneled office
surrounded by bookshelves and paintings, plush furniture and sculptures.
They sat across from each other at a beautifully polished mahogany table.
Gretchen still stood in the column of light off to the left. Bob sat up
straight and grabbed the table, slightly disoriented by the sudden shift of
scene. "I wish you'd warn me before you do that," Bob said.
Harlan ignored the remark. "The Continuum was the first intelligent species
to evolve in the universe. We are more than a billion years old. In that
time we have learned all the secrets and rules of the universe and how to
manipulate them. That is how we do what we do. We have extraordinary mental
capacity and exist as pure energy. We have evolved beyond the physical
stage, but it is only through the physical that we can experience the
pleasures and triumphs of life. We have taken the form of virtually every
intelligent life form that exists. Therefore, we know, first hand, the
strengths and weaknesses of all life in the universe. I, personally, have
experienced 572 different species. Some excel at art, some at music, some
are warriors, some are pacifists, some have barely the talent to get out of
each other's way. Each is unique, but there is only one species that stands
above it all. Any species that can give us a Mozart and an Einstein is
something special."
"You mean us?"
"Yes. Humanity has evolved faster, with more diversity and potential than
any other species. You are destined to be the dominant species in the
universe. All you have to do is survive the next thousand years and you will
be unstoppable. You are capable of exceeding even us. It will take millions
of years, but you can do it."
"I'm afraid you have more faith in humanity than I do," Bob said.
"I don't think I like the idea of a species that is filled with murderers,
rapists, and child molesters becoming the dominant species in the universe.
Can you imagine Hitler and Stalin with the universe available to them!"
Harlan smiled. "And that is why you are being given this gift. It is people
like you, and your alter ego over there..." he gestured toward Gretchen,
"that will guide humanity in the right direction."
"Are you saying that I have a mission if I accept this gift? This is
becoming more than you let on," Bob said. "That's the catch, isn't it?"
"No," Harlan said. "No mission, no catch, you just do what you do."
Bob let the implications of all this wash over him and sink in. After some
time, he looked over at Gretchen. Something was swelling within him. He got
up from the table and went to her. He examined her even more closely this
time. "God?" he said with a sigh. "Look at her!" Bob reached out to touch
her, but stopped himself. "Her hair is so shiny! She is so beautiful! I
don't deserve this. I don't know if I want the responsibility for guiding
humanity anywhere."
"Don't think of it as a responsibility. It's an opportunity."
Bob reached out again, and again stopped himself. He wanted to touch her so
bad, but he dared not.
"Go ahead," Harlan said. "It's okay. You can touch her."
Bob looked at Harlan, then at Gretchen. Slowly, he reached out and ran his
fingers over her hair. He closed his eyes; his head fell back as he drew a
long deep breath. Beautiful hair had always been his fetish. The softness
and smoothness of hers sent a chill running through him down to his toes.
"It can be yours, Bob."
"What happens to me, to my family."
"You will not survive the surgery. Your family will mourn you. It will be
hard for them, but they have been preparing themselves for it since you
first had the heart attack."
"What happens if I say 'no'? Will I still die?"
"No. You will recover quite well and live many more years of quality life."
"What happens to Gretchen if I say 'no'?"
"She will be erased from existence."
Bob nodded. There were deep and powerful emotions running through him. He
had become a fireman because he wanted to make a difference. He had written
a book, but no ever read it because it wasn't good enough for anyone to
publish. He never had the intellect or talent to do many of the things he
longed to do. Now all the talent was being offered to him, and in a package
that thrilled him beyond imagining. Yet, there was a feeling that he was
deserting his family for his own selfish reasons.
"You would not be deserting them," Harlan said, as if he had read Bob's
mind. "You are ready for this, and so are they. Besides, you'll be a wealthy
woman. You can make a donation to them in Bob's name. Give them a million
dollars if you want."
"I could do that, couldn't I?" Bob said with a smile.
"What do you say?" Harlan said, gesturing toward Gretchen. "Are you ready?"
Bob smile nervously and moved as if he did not know which way to turn. "Will
I remember being me?"
"For a while," Harlan said. "Until you don't need it anymore. It would be a
terrible burden to remember your life as Bob while trying to be Gretchen.
You will keep the memory until you are comfortable as Gretchen, then it will
fade and soon be gone completely."
"Could I do it for a trial period, maybe for a few months?just to see how it
will be?"
"No," Harlan said. "You either do it or you don't. There will be no trials.
You must make the commitment either way."
"You're sure my family will be all right?"
"They'll miss you, but they will be fine."
"Okay," Bob said. "Let's do it."
Instantly, the room shifted. It became bigger. Harlan got taller, and Bob
was on the other side of the room and saw himself sitting at the table in a
column of light. He felt something tickle his back. He spun around only to
find long hair slapping him in the face.
"Whoa," he said. "What was that?" The voice was not his. It was high-pitched
and clearly female. "Shit!" He gasped and covered his mouth. "Is that me?
Did you do it?"
"It's all done," Harlan said.
Bob began to laugh, giggle a female giggle as he looked as this hands and
looked down to see his new pert breasts standing small, but proud. He ran
his hands over the skin on his abdomen and cupped his breasts. His nipples
became hard as his fingers grazed over the tips. He shook his head and felt
the softness of his hair sweep across his back.
"This is wonderful," Bob said. He took a deep breath, sucking as much air
into his lungs as possible, then let it out slowly. "That's the first time
I've been able to take a breath like that in years. Yesterday, I would have
started coughing."
"She is in perfect health, text book perfection. Of course I can't guarantee
that she will stay that way. That depends on how you treat her. You eat the
crap you're use to and you'll turn her sickly too, make her more vulnerable
to disease. A good healthy diet and everything will be fine."
"I'm not sure I know what a good diet is," Bob said.
"That's okay," Harlan answered. "Gretchen does."
Bob searched his new mind. Sure enough, Gretchen knew the right foods to
eat, and the funny thing was, these were her favorite foods. But Bob found
more as he searched her mind. "My God," he said. "I know how to do
calculus!"
"You know how to do lots of things now," Harlan said. "Just work on it for a
few days."
"Shit, Harlan, this is pretty spectacular! It's hard to believe that I'm
this woman. God, listen to my voice! It's going to take a while to get used
to this."
"The more you use it, the more you'll get used to it. It will just take a
little time. That is why Bob is still there with Gretchen. You will need to
temper each other, learn from each other. You'll do just fine. And I'll be
around if you need me."
Gretchen walked over and stood near Bob in the column of light.
"Good bye old friend. We did some good things. I don't even know how many
lives we saved. We did good." Gretchen took Bob's hand and held it to her
chest. "Are you going to take him away now?"
Harlan nodded. "It's time. And it's time for you to be dressed and get to
your meeting. The closing on your new house in Boston is in an hour. You
don't want to be late."
"Right," Gretchen said. "I've got to get to my hotel. Where is my room key?"
Harlan held up the key and waved his hand. Gretchen disappeared from the
world of Harlan and found herself stepping into the shower in her expensive
hotel suite. Strange dream she thought as she lathered her hair. Um, what a
great sensation. She loved the feel of all that warm, wet, soapy hair in her
hands. Her sexual juices were flowing, like they always did when she washed
her hair. Her nipples were hard and her clit was swelling with sensation.
God, I love being a girl, she thought.
The End
Alma
- 08.02.2023
- 25
- 0
