Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Mult, Mind Control, Lesbian, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Science Fiction, Sister, BDSM, Orgy, Interracial, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Fisting, .

Desc: Science Fiction Sex Story: Prelude - An Experiment Gone Horribly Right! This Crichton-esque novel is about genetic manipulation, and how when you alter genes you might alter what it means to be human.

James Rhodes cringed at the doorbell. He knew it was coming, but hoped it wouldn't. His youngest daughter, Tania, was already asleep, and Alice was doing her homework.

"I got it!" he called up the stairs.

"I know, Dad," Alice called back. "I'm heading to bed. Good night."

"Goodnight, Sweetheart," James called back to her, wondering if she would ever see him alive again.

James opened the door.

At the door were two men, both wearing dark suits.

The first was a balding dark haired man in his fifties, he was about the same height as James, but looked short in relation to the second man.

The second man was younger, in his mid-thirties, with black curly hair. He was at least 6'9", with very broad chest. He had the look of a retired pro linebacker, though James did not recognize him.

"Good evening, Mr. Rhodes," said the shorter man, in a pinched voice. "May we come in?"

James led them to the kitchen table, which was to the right of the door. The father sat down at the table. The shorter man sat across from him. The tall man stood behind him.

"I believe you know why we are here," said the short man.

James nodded glumly.

"You owe my boss, $50,000. Do you have it?"

James shook his head. "I don't. I am completely tapped out. My business is failing. I can't get any more money out of my house. My credit cards are maxed out. I can't pay you. If you just give me time..."

"Time?!" the balding man exclaimed. "My employer has been nothing but generous in his time. Three times he has given you an extension on his loan, getting only the interest. This time you don't even have that."

James cowered in front of the two. "W-What are you going to do to me?"

"Normally, we'd seize control of your business, sell it off, take all your worldly possessions, break a few fingers, and leave you homeless on the street. But this is your lucky day. You can do just one thing, and you will be square with us."

"W-What do you want from me?" whined James.

"You have a daughter."


"No, the older one."


"That's the one. We want her. Give her to us, and your debts are paid."

James stood in stunned silence, mouth flapping but no words coming out. "You can't have her!" he finally got out.

"You don't have a choice," said the shorter man, pulling out a small caliber gun with a silencer on the muzzle. "If necessary, we will kill you, then take your daughter. That will leave Tania to find your body in the morning, and her an orphan.

"You don't have any other family members, do you?"

"No. I was an only child. But-but-but, I can't just let you..."

"You can, and you will, Mr. Rhodes," he said, leveling the gun at him. "It is either allow us to take her, or die. Either way, we will have your daughter."

Tears of frustration ran down James' face. Never in his life had he felt so powerless, so impotent. He balled up his fist and pounded the table.

"Well, Mr. Rhodes, what is it going to be?"

Looking down on the desk, James muttered "do what you have to do."

"You have made a very wise decision, Mr. Rhodes. Not a very easy one, either. But the only one you could make."

The shorter man nodded to his brawny cohort.

The large man pulled out a rag and a jar containing a gel-like liquid, the color of petroleum jelly. He unscrewed the jar, and quickly covered the opening with the rag. He turned the jar upside down briefly, getting the rag wet, then resealed the jar. An odd alcohol-like odor filled the room.

"Where is she?" asked the large man in a flat, emotionless voice.

James did not speak.

"You better tell him," said other man. "You don't want him to chloroform the wrong girl by mistake, do you?"

"Upstairs, first room on the right," he mumbled.

"Thank you, Mr. Rhodes," said the shorter man.

The large man then went up the stairs, with surprising speed and silence.

He was up there for about three minutes. All during that time, the shorter man covered James with the gun. The large man then came down, bearing in his two outstretched arms, Alice, wrapped in a sheet. The muscular man carried her as if she had no weight at all. In his right hand was her flower print travel suitcase.

The shorter man got up from the table, pistol still out, though not aimed directly at James. "Tomorrow morning, report Alice as a runaway to the police. Any mention of us will reinstate your debt with our boss, and your sacrifice will have been for nothing."

The two men left the house quickly and silently into the quiet suburban night. James heard a car start up and pull away from the curb.

The businessman sat in stunned silence for a moment, then burst in bitter tears.

Miranda Lind entered into her apartment with a stumble. She almost tripped on the long black slinky evening gown Ed Henderson followed her in, also slightly tripping over his own feet. His tuxedo was already partially undone. His bowtie was hanging loose around his neck. The shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a mass of brown chest hair.

"I think we had a little too much to drink," said Miranda with a giggle. She pulled a loose strand of red hair out of her face.

"Hey!" said Ed, too loudly, "When Rico throws a party, we are expected to drink."

"I know. But getting drunk could make us sloppy."

"Oh, don't you worry about that! We've been at this for two years. They haven't caught on yet!"

"Shhhh," Miranda loudly. "You never know who might be listening."

"Riiiight," slurred Ed. "In a week it won't matter though. The big shipment of cocaine will have arrived on Rico's ship, and Rico's boss, and his boss' boss will have been there to receive it..."

"... And the whole ring will collapse like a deck of cards," finished Miranda.

"And we will be promoted to captain, decorated by the chief, and given a long, well-deserved vacation."

"Whee!" cried Miranda, collapsing on the king-sized bed. The low cut top pulled sideways, revealing an erect nipple Ed flopped onto the bed beside her.

"You know," said Ed. "We've been playing the roll of lovers the past two years..."

Miranda pointed a long tipped finger at Ed's chest "You the buff, ambitious, hustler,"

Ed ran his finger down her cleavage. "And you, the arm candy, that actually had more brains than the boyfriend.

"In those two years, we never actually slept together."

Miranda ran her hand through his chest hair. "Wouldn't be professional."

"But you fucked a bunch of other guys during that time."

"Only three, and they were in the line of duty. But I seem to remember you screwing lots of other girls too."

"Ahh, but that was different. Those girls were gorgeous. The three guys were trolls."

Miranda sighed. "Tell me about it. Why can't a drug dealer also know personal hygiene?"

"I don't know.

"All I'm saying is that this may be our last chance to find out what it's like."

Miranda feigned ignorance. "What what's like?"

Ed ran his finger lightly over the exposed nipple. "You know. You and me. Together."

Miranda ran her hand over the growing bulge in his black tuxedo pants. "Do you think we should?"

The undercover detective ran his hand up his partner's thigh. "If we don't, I think we'll regret it for the rest of our lives."

Ed's hand reached for the panties, only to find Miranda's bush.

Miranda let out a gasp at the contact.

"No undies?" asked Ed.

Miranda smiled. "No bimbo goes to a party, or anywhere else for that matter, wearing panties. It is just not done."

"I stand corrected," said Ed, as he slid his index finger between her two pussy lips.

Miranda gasped in pleasure and rotated her hips.

"Lets get these pants off you," she moaned, reaching for Ed's fly.

When Ed's penis came out, it was only at half mast.

The alcohol is affecting his performance, Miranda realized. But Ed did not seem to notice.

Miranda spread her legs wide, bending her knees. "Oh yes, Ed. I'm ready. Take me now!"

Ed groggily pulled himself up on top of her, and pushed his semi-erect penis into her.

He then collapsed. His head fell on her breast.

"Ed? Are you okay?" cried Miranda.

The female detective then felt everything going gray. Then black.

It would be a long time before Miranda woke again.

It was 2 am when Angela Matzke walked out of the entrance with the grocery store's security guard accompanying her. Since she had been threatened last month by those hoods, she had been more careful about being alone.

And, besides, her guard, Alexia, was a nice girl. She worked on the Tucson police department in the daytime, and worked security at nights to make ends meet. She would have asked her out on a date, but she was already married.

All employees, even the pharmacists, had to park their cars at the far side of the lot. All the close ones were for customers. So going out to her car was not a short walk.

"Thanks for the escort, Alexia," said Angela, as they arrived at her blue Mazda.

"No problem. All part of the..."

Alexia's head exploded into a cloud of blood, bone and tissue.

Angela let out a shriek.

What just happened? Alexia is dead. I am covered with Alexia's brains. All these thoughts went through Angela's mind, as she stood in stunned disbelief.

Finally, the thought hit her: I got to get out of here.

She bolted for her car.

As she fumbled for her keys, something hit her on the back of her head, and she blacked out.

In Mexico, two hundred miles south of El Paso, and fifty miles northwest of Chihuahua was a small town called Dos Alamos. It was sleepy little town of about one hundred people. It was slowly dying, because almost all the young people have moved to the big city, where there were more opportunities.

Thirty years before, the governor of Chihuahua province tried to attract young people to the area by building large state of the art high school, five miles outside of town. It did not work. Most of the classrooms and most of the equipment were never used. It stayed open for five years. When the governor, who had it built, retired, his replacement had it closed.

Since then, the school had fallen into disrepair. It became a white elephant that was not needed, and no one knew what to do with it.

Three months ago, a odd young man from the United States, bought the school. He paid a good price, considering nobody else wanted it. And he paid for it in cash. Since then, a dozen large trucks had arrived, carrying unknown cargo.

Anyone making the five mile trek to investigate, was turned back by large, intimidating, security men.

Though a source of much speculation, the new occupants of the old school didn't affect the daily life of the small Mexican town. But that was about to change.

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