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Avarice By Erin Shoemaker, Jr. I was called to California a few months ago to take care of the personal business of my mother. She had passed away suddenly in a car accident, and I was named her Executor since my father had died several years before. This was a very unpleasant duty because I was always very close to her. Not only was she the most beautiful woman I had ever known, but she loved me and took care of me as only a mother can. I recall it hurt her so when I moved out on my own and took my current lodgings in Chicago. One afternoon soon after the funeral (I had stayed on for a few weeks to take care of her business and close up her affairs), while going through the basement I came across a large cardboard box stashed up against the cement wall in a corner. I began to rummage through it. Odds and ends were in there, some photos of what looked like tiny torpedoes with holes in them, old clothes, bits and pieces of newspapers, etc. Also inside, was a smaller box, tied closed with sting. On the box was written "For Erin Shoemaker Jr.". I was shocked that there was something with my name on it, and so I took the box and went back upstairs to examine it. Inside the box was bottle of what looked like brandy and an audio CD simply labeled "Charlie" Also in the box, was a small folded piece of paper. I unfolded and read, "Erin, my dear son. If you are reading this, it means that I am most likely dead. This bottle contains some brandy which you dear father and I used to enjoy. As you listen to the CD, which tells my story, please drink some of this in remembrance of me." 'What the hell is this all about?' I wondered. I looked at the cut glass bottle, but there was no label on it. I opened and smelled it - smelled like good brandy to me, so I took a long hard draught on it. It had a distinctly metallic taste, and as I quickly put it down on the mantle, I realized that the handwriting of the note did not appear to be my mothers. I put the CD in the deck, and sat down on the couch to listen. A woman's voice came on and this is what I heard on the recording: _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ I have to tell you a very unusual story. In fact, you probably won't even believe it. But it is even more unusual because it is true. The events of which I will speak actually happened to me, are continuing to happen at this moment, and are rapidly reaching their inevitable conclusion. I know now that there is nothing I can do to change my fate, but I must tell of this folly before it is too late - before that portion of my psyche which has defined my existence since birth, ceases to be a part of me, and is replaced by an new set of emotions which are at once abhorrent to me, yet, by the very nature of their forced incorporation, are beginning to feel right. I do not know how much longer I can fight the urge to submit. This is a tale of ego, of greed, and of the perversion of science to satisfy a personal quest for fame and recognition. Little did I realize that by following the path of avarice, that I would become so completely changed by the experience that I would begin to loose myself utterly to the feelings and emotions of a different me. I must tell of this now because very soon, probably tonight, I will cease to exist and I will have no choice but to surrender my soul and accept my new role. There must be a record that I once existed. My name is, or was, Dr. Charles Griffin. I am writing this from my bedroom in a farmhouse just outside of town. I have been a prisoner here of my own device for many months mow. There are no bars or chains holding me. Only my shame prevents me for leaving. I am 34 years old, and hold advanced degrees in biochemistry and electrical engineering, and attended Johns Hopkins Medical School specializing in oncology. Up to this point, my life has been pretty normal. I grew up in the suburbs of a large American city, attended public schools, and graduated high school near the top of my class. I have always been interested in science, and the application of science for the betterment of mankind. I was what you might call a 'science geek' when growing up. I was mostly quiet and unassuming, and as a result, was the subject of much ridicule in school. Upon obtaining my Doctorate and M.D., I began work for a large biomedical company located in Southern California. Here I was to obtain some modest fame by designing two new anti-cancer drugs, primarily those which inflict the male and female reproductive organs. Although my therapies would slow the progress of these debilitating diseases, they did not eliminate them. As my discoveries brought in more and more money for the Company, and as my scientific fame grew, I began to desire the ultimate recognition of finding a cure for cancer once and for all - the so- called magic bullet. I became more and more convinced that I would be the one to give mankind its much anticipated cure. In 2004, after several years of fruitless investigations, I became convinced that I could not ultimately succeed with drug treatments alone. The problems lie in cellular recognition. Cancer, as you know, hides itself within our genes, producing millions upon millions of copies of its infected cells, until our bodies can no long tolerate them. Normal checks and balances do not apply, because the cancer cells are tagged with the recognition code from our own genes. In short, our bodies do not recognize the cancer cells as anything but our own. I reasoned that what was needed is, for lack of a better term, a cellular policeman. This could be a drug or other delivery system which would, first, identify cells that have had their DNA sequences changed from the original and second, that would enter the cells and restore the sequencing to the original, thus eliminating the cancer at the most basic genetic level. Since one is only restoring a broken cell, tissue should not be changed since the cells' fates have already been decided by the biochemical environment it was first created in. I discussed this approach with several of my colleagues, in both industry and academic circles. All were intrigued, but most had doubts, as I myself did. As we mulled over the prospects, it was again pointed out that drugs are too indiscriminant. Although great strides had been made is specificity of drug target and action, most felt that still it was trying to hit a flea with a shotgun. Side effects, non- target cell disruptions, and systemic metastasis all seemed to point to the need for a highly specific delivery system. In spite of these impediments, my mind was so stretched by the very thought of becoming the one who finally solved the problem, and of course the receipt of the Nobel Prize I would undoubtedly receive, that I became completely obsessed with the research. I strained every hour of every day trying to come up with a solution. I usually did not go home at night, but slept on a little cot I had in the corner of my lab, if I slept at all. I was loosing weight, becoming unkempt, and frequently becoming angry and short with co-workers. Still, I could not fathom anyone but me being the first to succeed. In early 2005 (I can't remember anymore the exact date), the Head of Medical Research, Dr. Robert Jennings, called me in his office. He asked me to close the door, and I sat, dirty lab coat, hair disheveled, unshaven, before him as he began: "Charlie, I called you in today because I have received a number of complaints about your work habits as of late. We have all seen a change in you and are concerned about your well being. I remember when you first started working for us; you brought to the table, not only your superb academic and medical background, but a willingness to work as a team member. Your early successes were the result of these collaborative efforts, and you always seemed to remember that. Recently however, you have become so obsessed with this cancer problem, that I think you are beginning to burn out. Staff has reported to me that you have become incommunicative and withdrawn, and that when you are forced to interact, you are frequently rude and condescending, especially to the women. Charley, you are one of my most brilliant employees, but you must get a hold of yourself. You're a mess. What do you have to say?" I sat for a moment, staring at him, and feeling the anger swelling within me. How dare he talk to me that way? If it wasn't for my research, he would be on the production line right now. I could see his expression change as the blood began to rush into my face. I replied, "Look, there is some small aspect to the work I have overlooked. I know it's there - I can feel it - and I know I am very close to coming up with a solution. Think about it, we could be the wealthiest men on the planet if I can only solve this one tiny riddle." "That's all fine and well," he replied, "but you cannot solve any problem by driving yourself into the ground. Now don't take all of this the wrong way. I believe in you Charlie, but I also believe that you are going to kill yourself if you don't get centered." I sat quietly, head thundering with abstract thoughts on how I could get back at him. It finally rushed over me like a cascade of hot water. My head fell into my hand as I bent forward in the chair. I had reached the breaking point, and was only just now realizing it. I began to choke up. "Bob, you're right. I have never felt or acted this way before. What can I do?" "Well" he replied "there are a couple of ways we could approach this. You could take a sabbatical, cool off, and take your mind off your work for a while, maybe travel a bit. Another idea I have thought about, is to get you an assistant. This could be someone to take some of the burden off your shoulders, and give you some free time to get back in shape. What do you think? "I don't know. I'm so close to finding the answer, I cannot just walk away from it now. How about the assistant route?" The idea of sharing my research with someone else absolutely galled me. But I was not stupid enough to not see the writing on the wall. If I did not do what Bob was suggesting, I would be fired, and then there would then be no backing for my research. Yes, if I wanted to become the man-god that I wanted to be, I would have to swallow some pride, and accept his suggestion. "Let's see, your background is in biology, but as I recall you also have an electrical engineering degree in there somewhere, yes?" "That's correct." "When I was at the NICR meetings last month, Bill Morton, you remember Bill from Berkeley, mentioned that he has a recent Ph.D postdoc with essentially the same background as yourself, minus the MD of course. I hope you don't think me presumptuous, but I contacted them and inquired if they would be interested in working with you. It seems your reputation proceeded you, and they were more that willing to dispense with the postdoc and come over to work with us. If you agree, I will set up a meeting with them for next week, and we will go from there. Sound reasonable? "Look Bob," I said tersely, "I know what's happening here. I can see that in your eyes I need an assistant. But, if I go ahead with this, it must be clearly understood that I am in charge of the project, and any credit for discoveries made should be made to me." Dr. Jennings' eyes widened as he stared back at me, "Charlie, you see, that's the very attitude which continues to get you into trouble. We will work on that, but OK, that's the understanding." * * * * * * Over the next week, I continued to think about what Jennings had suggested. Still I could not escape the thought that someone else would get credit for my work. But each time I did, it was quickly put back in its place by the remembrance that I needed the resources of the Company to succeed. On Wednesday, Bob called me and asked me to meet him in the conference room at 11:00. He also mentioned, not too delicately, that he wanted me to be on my best behavior. I entered the conference room to find it empty, and so took a seat at the side of the long table there. I did not have long to wait. I could hear Bob's voice, and another male voice coming down the hall. As then entered the room, I recognized Bill Morton, and re-introduced myself (I had not seen him for several years). As we took seats, I was wondering what was going on - where was the postdoc? I condescendingly inquired, "So, where is the hot shot postdoc that's supposed to help me with my work?" Bob stared back and replied, "Now Charlie, remember what I said. She will be here in a second. She needed to use the facilities. There was a slight chuckle from Morton. We sat, awaiting the entrance of my would-be savior. As the sound of footsteps became louder in the hall outside, we turned toward the door. In walked the most gorgeous young woman I had ever seen. She was slightly short, probably about 5'4," with long flowing black hair and bangs covering her forehead. Her large eyes shown a beautiful shade of green, and her small mouth and lips were outlined with frosted pink lipstick. Her eyebrows were thick, but angled just right so as to be forcefully feminine. She reminded me of an anime girl. She was wearing a tight, deep blue, sleeveless blouse which covered her upper chest as it approached and encircled her thin neck. Her breasts we ample, but not overly large, and her sheer bra could be seen underneath the blouse creating a smooth outline to her fantastic figure. Her waist was thin, which widened out to rounded hips. Below was a black miniskirt, held in place by a large black belt with brass buckle. Her legs were incredibly shapely and fit, and were sheathed in black panty hose. She wore black shoes with a slightly spiked heel. I was awestruck. I almost fell to the floor rather than standing when she entered. Before Bob could say anything, I reached out my hand to her and said, "Hi, I'm Dr. Charlie Griffin, welcome to the Company." She quickly grabbed my hand and said smiling in a soft voice, "Hello, I'm Dr. Marsha Hammond - a great please to finally meet you. I have read many of your papers, and found you work fascinating." As I took her hand, I noticed her lovely thin fingers and relatively short but manicured pink nails. Her skin felt soft and warm as I released her hand slowly. As she sat, she reached under herself to insure her skirt didn't ride up. I quickly ran my fingers through my messed hair to attempt to comb it. "Good," Dr Jennings began. "We are here to entertain the idea of Dr. Hammond coming to work for us and the Company." What followed was about 30 minutes of questions and answers centered on Dr, Hammond's credentials, and her willingness to work long hours under unusual stress. Every answer she gave was perfect. I have to confess, that I could not concentrate very well on her answers because I was mentally undressing her. That is, until the subject came around to academic credit. She made the statement that she would love to work for us, but that she expected to get her fair share of credit for any discoveries or devices that came out of the research. Suddenly, I was back in the room. Blood flushed into my face as I worked hard to contain my sudden shock back to reality. "Dr Hammond," I said in a forceful voice, "It must be understood that this is my lab, and that any credit to be given will be determined by me." She looked at me with a sudden glare and fire in her green eyes that just as quickly retreated into a submissive smile. "I understand that Doctor," she said calmly, "I just want to make sure that if I work on some aspect of the project that you don't, the fair credit is received." At this point Dr. Jennings broke into the conversation. "Charlie, I hope you will remember that any discoveries you make while an employee of the Company, belong to the Company, and not you personally. Certainly credit for the discovery can be given where credit is due, but the underlying fact is that you work for us, not the other way around. Dr. Hammond - this is a standard clause of all our professional contracts. Is this acceptable? The stunning scientist looked down toward her feet for a second and then looked directly at me. "This is Ok with me if it's OK with Dr. Griffin". Still infuriated, I abruptly said, "OK". "Good," said a beaming Jennings, as he shook the hand of Dr. Miller who was also grinning ear to ear. Marsha Hammond reached-out and took my hand, and held it surprisingly tight. "I look forward to working with you Doctor. I know we will make an unbeatable team." She smiled, showing her beautiful white teeth and lovely mouth. I was struck down again - "Ah-h-h yes," I said hesitatingly, " We'll begin work on Monday next week." Again she slowly slid her hand from mine, and turned to leave the room. Back at the lab, I felt the sudden urge to clean the place up a bit. * * * * * * During he next couple of weeks, I began to become used to the having someone else running around in my lab. Marsha and I began to become comfortable in working with each other, and I began to appreciate having an extra pair of hands around. I quickly was able to determine her strengths and weaknesses with regard to assisting with my research, and purposely gave her a very large amount of reading to get up to speed on it. She handled this with enthusiasm and cheerfulness, in spite of it begin enough to overwhelm even the most aggressive medical student. As I said, I slowly became comfortable working with her, but always, in the back of my mind, was the paranoid notion that, first, this was my project, and second, that she was a beautiful woman. Nevertheless, I found myself having more spare time to take coffee breaks, go for walks, or get some fresh air. As time progressed, our scientific conversations began to focus more and more on the idea of what we called 'specific delivery' - the idea of targeting only cancer cells and delivering the cure only there. We racked our brains, spent hours together pouring through the literature, bouncing ideas off one another, failed experiments, and so forth. But nothing seemed to gel. Finally, as we were sitting having a coffee in the Company cafeteria, we both overheard a conversation from the next table where they were discussing nano-technology. Nano-technology is, for lack of a better description, the shrinking down of technology to accomplish various tasks. Suddenly, we both realized what had happened. We began a series of inquires as to the state of nano-technology. We discussed ideas with experts in the field, found the latest progress reports, and generally went back to engineering school to refresh our minds about these little machines. We slowly began to piece together a game plan we thought would have promise. The basic idea was that we could create nanobots, or molecular-sized machines, which we could program with genetic information from an individual's normal, healthy genetic information. Once programmed, we would release these cellular policemen into the system of the patient. There the nanobots would hunt down any cells that did not have the specific, pre-programmed coding sequences. Once discovered, these cells would then be invaded by the nanobots, and the sequences repaired to prevent the spread of the cancer. This was our working plan. Unfortunately, the technology was lacking. We traveled to scores universities and biotech firms, both in and out of the U.S. Each time we were confronted by the same answer - sorry we just can't do that yet. Months and months had gone by, and we were both becoming highly agitated at the lack of being able to carry out our plans. By the end of the year, we were becoming convinced that we may be barking up the wrong tree. I began to have my doubts about the nanobots, and it began to show. I was once again becoming despondent, angry and rude, especially to Marsha. I began to call her stupid, and became overly-critical of anything she would suggest. She seemed to be taking it all in stride, even during my most outrageous diatribes, but I was slowly becoming convinced that it was her that was holding me back, and I showed it. Nevertheless she persisted. * * * * * * It was sometime that late the following spring when Marsha called me a home late on a Friday night, and told me she had something important to show me, and it could not wait. Thinking this was just another lost effort, I protested. She responded by saying that she needed me to come to her house immediately to see what could be the answer to our 'specific delivery' quandary. I immediately got dressed and drove the six miles to her house. Was she doing research at her house without letting me know? I began to become even more angry and I began to think of all kinds of conspiracies. Her house was an older farmhouse, situated between two large hills just outside of town. She had moved in there soon after coming to the Company because she wanted quiet and privacy. A little odd I thought at the time, but hey, whatever floats your boat. I had been there only once before - soon after she had moved in when she was having a house- warming party. As I pulled off the highway onto the dirt road leading down to the house, I noticed how dark the place seemed. No cheery lights in the windows, only a dull yellow glow from one of the downstairs windows. I parked the car in front of the large covered porch, and approached the door. As I was about to knock, the door swung open and there was Marsha standing in her lab coat, her hair pulled back into a large pony-tail. She motioned me in, and we sat down in the living room which was to the right of the entrance hall. She began, "Ya know Charlie, I think I have discovered the answer to our prayers." As she spoke, she nervously wrenched her hands together. "I wanted to tell you this before anyone else, so that we are clear about what I have accomplished, but I think I have our answer." I looked quizzically at her, and said angrily, "What do you mean? Don't tell me this is another one of your stupid attempts to merge the coding sequences to a retrovirus? I told you before, that is not specific enough to allow the targeting of only the cancer cells." She stopped her movement immediately, and glared back at me with fire in her eyes. "No: she said in a definitive tone, "This is more in line with what we have thought of all along. As you know, we have been unable to find a source for the actual construction of the nanobots. So, not having a readily available source, I decided to try to make them myself. I have managed, over the past few months, to, I believe, successfully create our little policemen here in my own lab." I was dumbstruck! This was my idea! How could this woman do what no other engineering firm could do, and do it in such a short time and in her own lab at home? I dismissed it from my mind as folly. "Oh yeah - Sure," I said. "What makes you think you can do what no one else has been able to? You're just a bimbo who enjoys the attention of other scientists by soliciting your supposed brain power in an attractive package." And then I snapped. All of the pent-up anxiety and disappointments of the past year suddenly came to the surface, and I could contain myself no longer. "Listen cunt, I am sick and tired of you trying to ride on my coattails!" I screamed at her. "You probably got this job because you gave Jennings a blow job! You make me sick, and I am not going to sit here and listen to your pseudo-scientific babble about how you have solved one of the most difficult engineering tasks of history. I have had enough of you and your mini-skirt ways. I am going home now, and I expect that when I show-up to work on Monday morning, that you will have packed up your things and left MY lab." I was incensed, but I remember beginning to stand up to walk out when Marsha buried her head in her hands and began to whimper, "You're right Charlie. What was I thinking? Of course my ideas won't work, but I wanted you to see for yourself how far I've gotten." As she began to cry, I could feel my anger subsiding. "I only wanted your approval because your opinion means so much to me." I stood there watching for a few moments while she composed herself, but the sight of this beautiful creature sobbing was enough to melt me like butter. "Of course, if you no longer want to work together, I will honor your request. But please, do me the favor of at least taking a look at what I have." By this time, I my calm had returned, and I actually felt a little sorry for her. "Well OK, but please, if this is going to be a sham, let's just call it a night and be done with it." "Oh I think you will be surprised" she said. But I was taken aback by her sudden change of demeanor and the sly, deeply penetrating look she fired back at me. "Let's step out to the lab and I'll show you". * * * * * * We returned to the entrance room and followed the passage that was next to the stairs back to the kitchen of the house. The farmhouse kitchen had a large island in its center, and a screened-in back porch. As we started out through the porch, she stopped and said, "Look, how about a drink? I could really use one after that thumping you just gave me. Just as kind of a last hurrah?" By this time, it was already approaching midnight, and to be honest, I remember that I was already tired, and thought that a drink would probably make the drive home a bit dangerous. But I acquiesced. She reached up toward a cabinet that was above the refrigerator, but she was too short to reach the door. I remember her turning slowly and effortlessly around toward me, and said, "Gee, the poor little woman can't reach the cabinet. Could you please help me?" 'Smart ass' I said under my breath, but I walked over and quickly opened the cabinet. Inside was a bottle of wine. I took the bottle down from the cabinet, and turned to see that she had already pulled two wine glasses from a cabinet at the other side of the room. We met at the island, and I opened and poured a little of the amber red into each glass. We stood for a moment, each holding a glass, and she finally said, "Here's to past collaborations, and future endeavors". I remember lifting the glass to my mouth and taking a long hard drink, but Marsha fumbled her snifter and spilled hers on the floor. "Shit," she said. "Oh well, I'll get some more when we come back." She looked up, "I know this is uncomfortable for us both, and so I'll get you on you way quickly. So please, follow me." I did, bringing the glass with me. I recall going down the steps of the back porch, and crossing the grass covered yard to the barn beyond. As I entered the barn, I was struck by what I saw. There were two a large shipping containers sitting in the middle of the barn. They were side by side, and adjoined each other. "Welcome to my world" she said as we entered the closest one via a door cut in its side. Inside was a modern, complete, sanitized, well-lit laboratory. In the center was a large operating table with restraints dangling from both sides, and a large surgical lamp above. The table at one end had been fitted with OB/GYN stirrups. On the far side of the room, I could see a glass enclosed space with about a dozen cages in it. There appeared to be chimpanzees in a couple of the cages. "My God!" I said. "Do you have any idea of how much trouble you would get into if they knew you were using primate research models without permits? This is highly illegal." "Yeah, but no one will find out about this anyway, so not too worry. Besides, when you consider what I have accomplished, I think I will most likely be rewarded rather than prosecuted." "There you go again. Ok you got me here, now hurry up and show me what you got." "Over here," she said, as she motioned to a computer screen. She sat down and began to enter keystrokes. The screen zoomed into an image of a small cylindrical device, which had several holes in one end, and a small slit in the other. It appeared to be made of stainless steel, and shone with a metallic look to it. "What is it?" I asked her. "This, my fine scientist, is a nanobot. What you are looking at is approximately four angstroms in length, is powered by a miniature heat pump engine, and contains a microchip to allow programming of DNA sequences. Believe it or not, there is enough memory in this little gem to store a complete DNA sequence profile. They are created by the machine over there," and she pointed to another console across the room. "I just place a healthy sample from the patient into its feeder syringe, and the machine will make millions of these little guys in a couple of hours." I reacted violently, 'But this is incredible! How did you manage this? I can't believe that you could..." Then I realized that I was beginning to sweat as I dropped the glass of wine on the floor. I turned to look at her, only to find her with a large grin on her face. She began to laugh out loud. "Yes, how could a sweet helpless little girl like me ever do such a thing, right?" Listen you pompous ass. You have done nothing but harangue me since I came onto this project. You and your sick paranoia about fame and glory". I could see the flame in her eyes as she spoke. "Well I did it myself, and guess what Dr. Charles Griffin, you won't get ANY of the credit." By now I was sweating profusely, and my mind was getting dizzy. "You bitch!" I screamed. "You will never take credit for my work! I'll see to that as soon as I...." but again the world became hazy. I recall falling forward toward the operating table, and grasping my stomach in pain. "Oh I don't think so," she said. "You see, my experiments have already been completed. The nanos can not only fix a cell's broken sequences, but they also can replace or remove any DNA sequence I desire. And ya know what, big shot? I think it's time to take you down a peg. Soon you will not only have to live with the stigma I have had to, but your very essence will soon become lost in new waves of emotions and behaviors which are completely foreign to you now. And there is nothing you can do about it. Nothing! So go to sleep my dear mentor, and we'll get started right away." At this point, I remember only that I could not effectively move. She approached my contorted body, and with a mighty shove, placed me upon the operating table. "What are you doing to me? I asked her in my now slurred voice. "Never you mind, Sweetheart," she said in a matter-of- fact tone. I recall seeing her moving around the table, placing my arms and legs in the restraints. I had become her prisoner. She began to cut away my shirt with a pair of medical scissors. "No! Stop!" I cried, but she only laughed. My mind was going fast, like a locomotive headed toward a dark tunnel. The last thing I remember was her approaching with a large syringe, and saying, "OK Sweetie, let's give mama some of your DNA to work with." As I watched the syringe being lowered into my abdomen, the train reached the tunnel and all went black. * * * * * * How long I was out is uncertain. I awoke exactly as I had been when I had succumbed to her drug. My mind was foggy, and I felt as if I was going to be sick. My mouth was completely dry. I lay there for what seemed like an eternity, when I heard the door open and close. Every time I tried to lift my head, I almost blacked out, so I did not even try to see who it was. I could hear footsteps, and in a second, there was Marsha leaning over me, he long black hair hanging down around her shoulders. She was dressed in a t-shirt. She examined the point of entry from the syringe and said, "Good, looks like no infections for you." "So Dr. Griffin," she said in disgust. "Here we are at last. Our journey together is about to take on a whole new phase. It should be only a few more minutes before we have your DNA coding figured out, and then the real fun begins." "Water!" I said in a hoarse voice. "Oh of course, you must have cottonmouth from the anesthetic. I'm sorry, here you go." She leaned over me to retrieve a cup. As she did, her breasts rested upon my chest. I instinctively reacted, at which she up-righted herself and said, "Enjoy that while you can, because soon that will be a thing of the past, or should I say, a thing of YOUR past." She bent the flexistraw into my mouth and I sucked in the cold water. It crashed through my mouth like a flood of relief. "What are you going to do to me?" I croaked out. "Well I don't want to spoil the surprise, but I suppose I'll let you know in advance since I want to see your reaction." She paused and stood upright glaring at me. "Listen you cocksucker - oh that's funny - you have spent your entire professional life thinking you were the smartest thing around, and because you are a man, you could bully your way with any girl you had to work with." A sudden alarm went off somewhere in the room, but I could not tell where it came from. "It's soup!" she exclaimed. "That will be your sequencing," and turned back to me. "It's time to think a bit more about your fate. As I was saying, it's assholes like you that have made science so difficult for women like me. You have fucked us up so much so that today only the most aggressive and man-like women can make it in your science world. Your greed and ego and desire for fame have led you to sell your soul to the devil, so to speak." She stopped for a second, and raised her finger to her mouth as if pausing to think carefully about her next words. "So soon, you will see what it is like to be a second class citizen, at least from your point of view. For you see, Sweetheart, I have decided to remake you into the one thing you yourself have pooh-poohed all these years - the one thing you fear the most - a subservient, sweet, obeying young woman whose life will be spent in the pursuit of pleasing her man. And there is nothing, absolutely nothing, you can do about it. By the time I finish with you, the only thing you will be able to think of is having a large throbbing penis slipped into your sweet, wet vagina; of sucking cock until it erupts in your mouth; of doing whatever is asked of you to make sure your man is kept happy. You will be a fully functioning female, and you will eventually be transformed so completely, that your will forget about who you were, and only focus on your burning desires. You will continue to have your memories right up until the very end. Only at the last excruciating moment when you mind completely submits to your new emotions and desires, when you consciously surrender to your burning desire to be completely female, will you be free of the utter humiliation you are going to feel. At that point you will cease to exist, Dr. Charles Griffin. And you won't be able to stop it. Your desires will be so strong that even though you want to stop, you will be powerless. Your mind will scream to stop, but your new body will not want to. You will eventually have to give in - It is inevitable" "And oh yes, and by the way, this comes with all the baggage too. Periods, cramps, mood swings, and the risk of pregnancy all are part of the deal, but it won't matter to you because all you will think about is pleasuring him." Now here's the best part - because the nanos are body heat powered and not dependent upon an outside energy source, they will continue to repair any cellular damage, and replacing bad sequences with the programmed sequences I am going to give you. That means, you will never grow old, and you will never loose your desires to pleasure and serve men. You will be a sex slave forever. How's that for a mind fuck baby? I hope you choke on it - no, on second thought, I hope you choke on dick," she laughed. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Surely this would not be possible. I struggled against the restraints, kicking wildly and trying to break out of the bonds. " No - No - you can't do this!" I screamed. It was to no avail. I soon wore myself out and I stopped struggling. "Good," she said. "You are already beginning to become submissive. Just wait until I finish with you. Look, like I said, this is going to happen to you no matter what, so you might as well accept it. Fighting the change will only prolong your physical and mental anguish." She turned to the bench and began to put on some surgical gloves, "Now unfortunately, I need to take care of some business. I need to erase any trace of your visit here tonight - your car, etc. - and make it look like you have decided to chuck it all and disappear. I need to you to do something for me. I want you to write a little note telling the world that you have decided to leave science and go away. Can you do this for me?" "Fuck off," I yelled at her. "Listen Sweetie, you better do this, or, ya know what (?), I'll give you the DNA of one of those chimps over there, and you could wind up being the subject of experiments yourself. Would you like that better? Or perhaps, I'll give you the balls of an elephant." she laughed. "Now here, take this pen and write what I tell you," she commanded. Again I yelled, "Fuck you!" "No No No," she said. "It will be you getting fucked this time. I could just as easily kill you right now and make it look like a suicide - now write!" she commanded. She took a pen, put it in my tethered right hand, and slipped a piece of paper under it. "Write this...." she said. "I can't - - take it anymore - - period. I - - have decided to - - stop working in science - - and go away - - to someplace - - where life is simpler -- period. I instruct - - all my possessions - - be given to my brother - - David Griffin - - of Pasadena - - period. Don't - - try to find me - - period. Fuck you all. - exclamation point. Now sign it" I hesitated. She picked up a large syringe and said, "I'm not sure what's in this one, shall we find out?" and moved it toward my arm. I signed the paper. As she took the paper, she said, "Excellent. I am sure there will be questions raised, but gee, I'm just a poor defenseless girl, and when I tell them you promised to marry me, well, who do you think they will feel sorry for, hum?" She walked away from me toward the back wall, and returned a moment later with a loaded hypodermic. "Nighty night Sweetie - I'll see you when I get back. By the way, do you have any preference for a name, you cup size, hair color, body type, etc.? Would you like to be oriental? That might be fun. Be thinking about it and when I get back, we can discuss it a little more." She giggled hysterically as she injected me with the solution - I immediately felt the buzz of the anesthetic as my mouth went dry and my world shrank to nothingness. * * * * * * I again awoke on the table, but this time, I was completely naked, and my legs had been opened wide. Straps were around my ankles and wrists, and a large strap was across my lower rib cage. There was a terrible smell in the room. I heard noise coming from behind me, but could not turn my head enough to see - every time I did, I went dizzy. Eventually Marsha came around in front of me and gave me a little drink of water. "Feeling better?," she asked. "Oh oh," she said, "I see you made a mess," as she looked toward my rear end. "But that's good. We want to be sure your system is cleared of any solids before we begin your change." She produced some toilet paper, and began to wipe my bottom. She then bent down and brought up a large yellow bucket, and threw the soiled paper in it. She walked across the room, opened the door, and set the bucket outside. "That's better" she said. After a few tries, my voice was strong enough to talk. "Marsha, please don't do this. I will give you full credit for the discovery and will quit the Company. Just please don't do this," I begged. "Nice - begging.... Soon you will be begging for something else. No I'm afraid it's too late. Look, you made your bed, and now you will have to sleep in it - so to speak." She paused. "I have a few suggestions about the new you. I thought about 5'2" would be nice - that was we can ensure you will not be too strong to resist your fella. I was in doubt about the hair color though - what would you prefer? Blonde, brunette, redhead or black?" I sat in silence. "Well OK then, we'll make you a blond. Pubic hair too I think" As she spoke, she made little notes on a Post-It paper. Now, since you will be a willing partner, and will want to keep you man around, - God I love saying that - let's give you some nice knockers. Say a 36-C should do it, especially with your smaller frame. I have already selected a few other attributes for you such as general body shape and coccyx angle, pelvic width, slim waist, percent body fat, and so forth. So bear with me now, and I will get the nanos started. I could see her cross the room, sit in front of the nanobot machine, and begin entering data. I again tried kicking and pulling at the arm restraints, but it was no good. Exhausted again, I stopped struggling. She looked up, smiled, and said, "See you are mine now, and nothing can save you. There you go," she said to herself as she stopped typing - "...all programmed. Baby, you are gonna be so hot, I think I will be envious. Your mind and body will be designed for one thing - sex." She crossed back over to me, and examined me closely. She stopped at my penis, and began to play with it with her long fingers. "Ya know, I always wondered how endowed you were." In spite of my situation, it began to respond in its familiar fashion. "My my," she said "perhaps I should give you one last organism as a man, just so you will remember, at least for a while, what that burst of body rapture felt like." She began to stroke my penis softly and it soon became rock hard. "Now, this is what you will soon enjoy most of all..." She bent forward and caressed it with her rounded lips. Tongue flicking and swirling around my member which was now fully inserted into her mouth. She began pumping up and down on it, until I began to feel my internal muscles start the familiar pulsating. Suddenly she stopped, stood erect, wiped her mouth and said, "Sorry Charlie" I'll leave this for you to dream about while I'm gone," and laughed hysterically. Adjusting her clothes, she said, "OK Doc, it's time for me to go to work. I'm so sorry you decided to disappear the way you did. Poor Dr, Jennings is in a mess with Administration now, and has offered me your job. After some soul searching and appropriate protestations, I accepted it. By the bye, the Police showed up at the lab yesterday asking questions about you. You should have seen my performance. Oscar worthy! I began by pleading ignorance, and then broke down into tears as I told them that you had asked me to marry you. How could you have done this to me? The Policeman was so nice, putting his arm around me and consoling me. I pleaded for them to find you but he said there was no trace of your whereabouts. It seems that the cops have written off Dr. Griffin." "I am sorry for having to keep you under sedation, but of course, I cannot risk your escaping yet. Soon you will not want to anyway, but for now...." I felt the now familiar pinch of a needle enter my arm, and she threw a blanket over my naked body. I once again began to fade out into darkness. * * * * * * The now familiar haze was beginning to lift. My head felt like was full of cotton on fire. As the spinning world began to slow down, I thought I was alone in the lab. I was still naked, but my feet had been clamped into the OB/GYN stirrups at the end of the table, and my groin area was spread eagle to the world. I could see a catheter tube running from the end of my penis. Again and again I struggled against the bonds that held me. But they were too strong, and each time I tried harder, I made myself dizzier. I finally gave up. Soon Marsha walked in and said, "Well tonight is the big night. I can see that the nanos are ready, and I assume you are too. You know, I really think you're going to enjoy your new life. What a deal when you think about it. No responsibilities, nothing to worry about except keeping your man happy and your girlish figure in trim shape. Sometimes I envy women that are satisfied with this kind of shallow existence, but I couldn't live without more challenging endeavors. Oh well, this won't be your problem, that's for sure." "Now I'm not exactly sure how this is going to feel for you. In my chimp experiments, they seemed to go into a lethargic period of about two days. The changes happen slowly as the cells of your body are reformed according to their new codes. I suspect that the bone transformations may be a bit painful. But not to worry, it's the weekend now, and I will be with you the whole time. Here, let me take care of this.... " She wheeled over a hanging bottle of solution and inserted the needle into my wrist. "Try not to disturb this if you can. This will be your nourishment for the next couple of days." She removed the needle as she slipped the butterfly in a bit further in, and taped it tightly against my wrist. "Just one more item and we'll be ready to go," she said. She produced a razor and some soap, and lathered up the area around my penis. "I think this will be better observed without any confusing hair around." She began shaving off my pubic hair. "There we go. That's better," she said as she washed me down and dried me off. I could see my penis below me and the clean shaven area above it. Next she came around to my head, and with a pair of electric sheers, shaved my head clear of all hair. She then crossed the room and brought back a large 20cc syringe. She produced a piece of surgical tubing, and tied off my left arm above the elbow. Examining the inside of my elbow, she thwacked the vein a couple of times and said, "Well, Dr. Griffin, this is it, "with a large grin on her face. I began to struggle one more time against my restraints. "No! God please don't do this! I'll give you anything! Don't! Don't!" But it was too late. I saw her fingers depressing the plunger of the syringe. I stopped struggling, closed my eyes, and suddenly realized that I was going to die. "There ya go," she said as she removed the syringe and dabbed the entrance wound with a cotton swab. She released the constrictor band on my arm, and I in a few seconds I felt a flutter in my heart and a slight pain in my stomach as heaviness invaded my head. I swooned, looking up at Marsha going in and out of clarity. I finally blacked out completely. * * * * * * I don't remember much about the next few days. I can recall myself going in and out of consciousness. Each time I moved back into the real world, there was Marsha's face smiling down on me. At one point I was awakened by Marsha slapping me lightly back and forth on the face. I had no concept of time, so I did not know how long I had been out. "Wake up Sweetie," I recall her saying. "I though you might want to say goodbye to Captain Winkie" and she gestured toward my feet. She lifted my head and I was shocked to see that my breasts had grown dramatically, and the nipples had become larger and surrounded by large pink areolas. I tried to move my hands up to touch them, but I was still restrained. I remember feeling an intense agony that I couldn't touch them. My stomach had become a broad flat plain, accentuated only by my navel and crests of my two ileum bones protruding slightly under the skin. My hips had widened, while above them my waist had restricted. I could just make out my ribs above that. My hips blended smoothly into my stirruped legs and were completely smooth. My feet, visible up in the stirrups, had become small and dainty looking. In between my legs I could see my still cathetered penis. As I looked, a terrible pain began to build deep within my abdomen, and I simply gave-up, turned my head, and gave in to the anesthetic again. Again I was awakened by Marsha slapping me in the face. She excitedly said, "Here I wouldn't want you to miss this," and through the drug- induced haze, I could see her move a large overhead mirror into place in front of me. "See OK can you?" she asked. "You bitch," I tried to say but I couldn't get the words out. Then suddenly I felt a tugging at my penis. As I watched, its base began slip further between my legs. 'Oh my God' I thought to myself, 'This is really happening'. With a sudden shake, I could feel my penis slip down further under my body, and begin to shrink. At the same time my scrotum flattened against the base of my abdomen, immediately in front of my rectum. I felt like someone had kicked me in the balls, and I squirmed in pain as I felt them pull back into my body cavity. There was a distinct popping sensation as they broke through the abdomen wall into the interior cavity. As I looked, where the testicles had been absorbed the remaining skin began to move slowly, pulsating back and forth. As it did, it began to develop into the shape of a large eye, with distinct lids on either side. My penis became smaller and smaller, while above it, the space it had occupied was slowly bifurcating into two halves. Then I felt an intense burning sensation at the place where the penis was retreating, but it continued to shrink and eventually took up residence at the head of the eye just inside the front of the eye. "I think we can dispense with this now," Marsha said as she slowly pulled the catheter from my new orifice. I could feel every centimeter of the retraction. The deep abdominal pain that I experienced before came back with a vengeance. It became too great, and I blacked out again. I came to again, but this time I was alone, or at least I thought I was. I sensed that the abdominal pain was still there, but it has subsided some from its previous intensity. As I shook off the haze, I looked down to see my breasts had grown in size, and had taken on a lovely shape. Lovely? How could I think this way? The nipples were firm as I again felt the uncontrollable desire to rub them. Still I was restrained and my physiological agony returned. As I continued to look down I saw that my body had continued its feminization, and now looked wonderful. 'Wonderful' - what was I saying? How could this be wonderful? And I shut my eyes in disgust. Yet in spite of the continued pain, and in spite of the revulsion I felt, there was something else which gave me pause to look at myself again and again. 'NO!' I would say to myself and close my eyes, only to open them again in a few seconds for another look and feeling of amazement. Then I looked into the mirror. What I saw shocked me beyond any attempt to describe it. There, between my legs was beautiful female genitalia. But the second I recognized the image before me, the pain shot through my body again. Intense pressure - intense pain as it felt like I was going to split open and my organs burst from within me. I winced in pain, screamed aloud, and watched as a burst of blood shot from the eye between my legs. I moaned in pain and went unconscious. I awoke in fog. I could see the shape of someone below me, moving back and forth. As my vision cleared I could see Marsha darting around. She approached and said, "Hi. Glad you're up, Sweetie. Well we're just about done here. That was a little messy wasn't it? I think another day or so, and the change will be complete. Now, take a look at this," and she gestured toward my feet. I looked into the mirror and beheld my newly formed vaginal opening. I couldn't believe it. How could this be? I was still me, but look at my body! Oh God! I cried to myself, as I realized that this was the way I would be forever. I had an overwhelming rush of emotion, and began to sob. "Now, now," said Marsha. "You should be happy I gave you this gift. A sweet little pussy for your man to love every night. Think how happy you will be. Think how happy it will make him. Besides, you better get use to crying - it's all part of the package." As she spoke, my mind raced and spun. I was completely without coherent thought and a million different things crossed through my brain at once. * * * * * * I awoke still on the table. My feet were no longer elevated, but were restrained as before. Most of my pain had subsided, but I felt weak beyond belief. I tried to shake my head into consciousness, but it seemed only to confuse me more. I was covered by a loose bedsheet, and could not see myself except to the two large lumps of my new breasts under the sheet. The overhead mirror was been retracted up toward the ceiling. I lay for some time, thinking about what had happened to me. How was I going to live? What will become of me now? They would believe me if I went to the police and told them what happened. They would lock me up in an asylum. I began to whimper again and suddenly realized that the sound coming from my throat was not what I was used to. "What the hell?," I screamed out, only to realize that the voice that came out of my mouth was not my own. It was a distinctly feminine voice. 'Oh my God' I said to myself. Even my voice has changed. Then I realized there truly was no hope for me. That she had won, and I had become the very thing I had ridiculed and tried to control most of my adult life. I began to cry uncontrollably. Eventually Marsha returned. "Hello lover," she said. "How are you feeling tonight? I am beat - a long day at the office you know." She laughed out loud. "Well let's see how you are doing then." She grabbed the sheet and threw it off toward my head. It didn't quite clear my face. "Oops," she said, "let me get that." And she threw it the rest of the way off. "My my!" she gasped, "Aren't you a lovely young woman now?" I tried to look down, but could only get a partial look at myself. I could see my large perfectly formed breasts, and between them, the broad flat table of the stomach. Beyond, it dropped off into nothingness. "Please, please...." I began to whimper and plead with her. She just ignored me, and moved around to the end of the table. There she began examining my new femininity, gently pressing and rubbing here and there while looking closely at the new me. I could feel every move she made. "Well OK then. I think we are done here. Welcome to your new life..., 'um... well what shall we call you then? We forgot to give you a name." She looked at me in anticipation. Suddenly from nowhere, I blurted out the name "Linda" in my new voice. "Linda it is, Linda Hammond. I always liked that name - and such a lovely soft voice too. OK you will be my cousin Linda from... where?.... Vermont. That's far enough away so that there will be no chance of anyone checking. So nice to see you are already moving toward becoming completely female. "Fuck you!" I yelled at her, but my new voice seemed to not relay the full measure of my anger. "Now now," she said. That is no way for a proper young lady to talk. Look let's get something straight right now," she said as she pointed her finger at me. "You are no longer Charlie Griffin. Dr. Charles Griffin is dead and there is no way to bring him back. You are now Linda Hammond, young prot?g?e of the famous Dr. Marsha Hammond. You will always be Linda Hammond. You will never again look like Charlie Griffin, never again sound like Charlie Griffin, and eventually you will not even think like Charlie Griffin. Shit, soon you won't even remember Charlie Griffin. You will eventually give in to the inevitability of your new desires as they grow and grow within you. And when you finally do, the change will be 100%. This is what you get for fucking over women all these years. This is the humiliation of not being able to control your desires such that you want only one thing - to love and be loved by a man. Welcome to the world of women Linda Hammond. I hope you enjoy your stay." With that, she turned and stomped out of the lab. I was left crying on my table. * * * * * * I awoke again only to find that I was terribly hungry. My pain was completely gone except for a little twinge deep within my abdomen. Still restrained, I tried once again to fight the bonds holding me, but now I felt that my strength was not what it used to be. I had the muscles of a woman now, and not the strength that I was used to. Marsha walked around from behind me, and asked, "How are you doing this morning Linda?" Linda - that name reverberated in my head. It was at the same time both sickening and exhilarating. "I could use some food," I said in my new soft voice. "I bet you could - it's been about a week now, and you've been living on bottled nourishment." She paused and gave a sigh. 'Look I hope you have accepted by now that you are a woman. That the old you is gone forever and is never coming back. When you think about it, you are going to need to adapt to this new life whether you want to or not - you simply have no choice. Now we can do this the hard way - in which case I will drug you, take you out into the city, and drop you off on a corner. Or we can do this the easy and correct way, and you can agree not to try to escape, and I will train you in what you need to know. Considering that no one would believe your story anyway, I think the latter choice is the one to consider. What do you say?" As I began to review the two options, again a rush of emotion came over me and I began to cry. Marsha came closer and laid herself down across my breast. "Please don't cry," she said. "Soon you will love your new life. What do you say?" As she embraced me, I felt a warmth to her words which instantly made me want to respond in the affirmative. I said, "But what will happen to me - I'm so afraid?" "Don't be afraid," she replied. "I won't let anything happen to my little cousin now." And she embraced again. "All right," I said weakly, "I will do what you tell me to." As I said those words, I felt as if a great burden had been lifted from me. I felt, for the first time since this all began, that it would be OK, and that I perhaps could continue to live this way. We were bonding as women. "Ok then - Linda - if you promise...." I will try to work something out to get you into the big house, off this uncomfortable table, and begin your training. I think I will have to continue some restraint on you since if you got the urge to leave, you could get really messed up out in this nasty world. I don't necessarily want to see you hurt physically. I just want you to start thinking about your new role." As she said this, I detected a wry grin on her face, as she turned and headed toward the door. "I will bring you back some food." she said and disappeared out the door. * * * * * * The next day, Marsha entered the lab and said, "OK I think this is moving day - what do you say?" I became terribly excited and said "Oh yes, please Marsha!" Very well, but I think for my safety, I will sedate you for the move - sorry," and she approached with a syringe she had picked-up by the door. "Oh please, I won't give you any trouble. I promise." "Well OK, but your legs are too weak for you to walk. Let me get the wheelchair I have and I'll roll you into the big house." I was becoming more and more excited at the prospect of seeing the outside world again. I could hardly contain myself. She returned in a few minutes. As she entered, she hit a button mounted on the wall next to the door. The end of the lab opened, and slowly lowered to the ground outside in the barn forming a giant ramp. "I had to get this equipment in here some how...: she said with a giggle. "Ok so let's go. I brought you a little something to put on since it's a little chilly outside." She loosened the straps on my legs first. Then she said, "See if you can bend your legs. I tried with great effort, but the pain in my knee and hip were excruciating. "OK don't push it. Here, let's get these on," and she pulled a pair of long jogging pants up my legs. With some effort, she lifted my hips and slid the pants over my ass and up to my waist. Next she released my arms. "OK let's try to sit up." She grabbed my arm and together we moved me up into an upright position. As we did, I felt an unknown weight pressing down on my chest. Looking down, I could see my unyielding breasts below, mounding outward to perfectly positioned nipples. "Here we go" she said as she assisted me in slipping the long sleeved jogging top over my head and feeding my arms through the sleeves. As she pulled the top down toward my waist, I felt a kind of togetherness with the fabric as it embraced my new body. It felt right. "Here we go," she said again and together we swiveled my legs around until they were dangling over the table edge. "This is gonna be tricky," she said, but with her lifting, I plopped down into the seat of the chair. My ass felt strangely cushioned. She then lifted each leg in turn, and placed them in the unfolded steps of the chair. Then we were off. As she pushed me from the building and out into the open, a burst of fresh cold air hit me in the face. It felt wonderful - like I was suddenly free of so many worries - free from that torture chamber. We continued around the building to the end of the front porch which was fitted with an ADA ramp. "Glad this was here," she said. With some effort, she pushed me up the ramp, onto the porch and toward the front door. We entered the house, and she paused. "Um - I wanted you to use the upstairs bedroom, rather than mine down here. Do you think we could make a try for it?" "Oh yes, I just want to lay down on something soft for a change," I said. I hardly knew what I was saying; the words seemed to just come without thinking. She smiled and moved the chair closer to the stairs. "OK now hang on to me and the railing and let's try this." We struggled to get me to my feet, and slowly, one by one, we negotiated the steps to the upstairs. It took about 10 minutes to reach the top. Once there, she said, "Let me go down and get the chair now." "No!" I shot back, "I want to try to walk some more." She smiled, and assisted me as we worked our way down the upstairs hall to the far bedroom. Once there, we moved to the bed, and I collapsed on it. We both gave a very large sigh from the ordeal. She fixed the pillows at the head of the bed, and said, "OK, now lie down and rest." "Yes Ma'am," I said. She stopped and looked at me. "Very good, you are going to make a fine wife for someone." With that a flash of anger rushed back through me. I started to retort, but something made me decide against it. After all, she was only trying to help me now, I thought. As I lay back, I could feel the pressure of my breasts leave my shoulders. She swung my legs up onto the bed, and covered me with a large comforter. As the weight of the fabric pressed on my body, I curled up slightly and felt warm inside. "Now rest," she said, "I will bring you some food in a bit. See isn't this so much nicer that that old metal table?" "Yes Ma'am," I said without thinking. * * * * * * The following day, I awoke to see the sun coming up on the first day of my n