Part 11

Chapter Thirty-One: Mirror, Mirror...

Herr Doctor Professor Hal Steinert, walked up the steps to the Institute chatting amiably to his director of finance Sylvie Dacor. His conversation was rudely interrupted in a most unfortunate way. Hal gaped as his favored postgraduate student ran up to him and announced in a clearly manic voice.

"Sorry, Herr Professor but I must interject - I really must..." Anna ejaculated the phrase.

If her words sounded strange, then her actions were - insane. Without pausing for breath Anna turned and kissed the shocked finance director, but this was not the polite European double cheek kiss. No, what Anna delivered was a passionate, open-mouthed, lip-numbing kiss. The audacity of Anna's action was only matched by its inappropriate nature - Anna had never even been introduced to the influential Sylvie. The kiss over, Anna pulled herself abruptly away from the gasping administrator - and vaulted down the rest of the steps to vanish into the staff car park.

"I'm most dreadfully sorry, I cannot apologize enough," Hal, stuttered "she has been under immense pressure recently, please excuse me - I feel I should care for my colleague."

The professor moved with a speed that denied his bulk, in a few seconds he too had dashed into the car park. Sylvie was left alone - a picture of bemused lust; her neat blonde bun had unwound. Strands of almost platinum hair concealed most of her taut blouse covered bosom, but not all. Raised domes of cotton peaked provocatively through the shimmering curtain of hair; hard evidence of the erupting flesh. Hal would have relished the sight; platform nipples were one of his fetishes. He had confessed as much to Anna - as he had stroked hers during their recent lovemaking. Sylvie shuddered, and then swiftly made her way to the ladies room in the Institutes foyer. Once safely ensconced in a private cubicle the ice-maiden melted - acting for once, in a most unprofessional manner.

The professor skidded on the loose gravel in the car park, almost losing his footing. He recovered his balance, and his stressed senses just quickly enough to spy Anna - riding out of the car park on her putting Vespa. Hal fumbled for his keys and eventually slid behind the wheel of his BMW 523. Innocent bystander's recoiled from the shower of stones that pelted them; the silver car flew from the car park in a frenzied pursuit of the scooter.

'She has lost it - completely' the panicked academic fretted, he couldn't understand it - she seemed so controlled; just like all her predecessors. Why she should suddenly see their relationship as anything other than an enjoyable extension of her career path amazed him. He drove on ignoring the polite German driving conventions, and the stream of offended motorists. Gradually it became clear where she was headed, his part of town, his street - and his house. 'Oh God above!' his wife! Why had he invited her to the barbecue, she knew Margit - this must be stopped.

The beamer screeched to a halt opposite the neatly trimmed lawns that bordered his path. Anna's Vespa lay discarded on the other side of the road at the curb, just short of his gateposts. Hal got out of his car and gazed, agonized as his front door opened and Margit welcomed Anna - he was dead! Anna then did an incredible thing; she kissed Margit just as she had kissed Sylvie. The women broke their impassioned embrace and were swallowed by the closing door as they slipped into the house. Hal was galvanized into action, he sprinted across the road; this he had to see!

Unfortunately he didn't, time slowed; his life unfolded before him. His senses became so clear, he heard the squeal, he smelt the burning rubber, he saw the approaching fender, he felt the impact, and finally tasted the blood. He was indeed dead.

Macy McKechnie collated her latest results from the mainframe, smiled with satisfaction, and retuned to her laboratory. Macy sat in front of the workstation and booted up the molecular modeling program, her spirits rose even higher. She, Macy McKechnie, from a Glasgow housing estate had made her first breakthrough; the Ph.D. was as good as hers.

Precisely what the mutation she had found did she was uncertain, but her probe hit it without fail, time, and time again. The demographics all stacked up - all these families had histories of premature death. A note to the Lancet and her future was as good as guaranteed.

Macy stood up and walked to the filing cabinet where she stored her old journals. She bent forward to hunt for her latest copy of the Lancet; an e-mail to the editor was completely in order. Behind her the screen of her workstation darkened to a deep crimson, and fingers of mist burnt their way through its swirling screen. The inquisitive tendrils reached out and slipped unseen up the crouching researchers skirt. Macy did not see the writhing smoke approach her, but she soon reacted to its delicate touch. Her body convulsed as the vapor slid around and through the gusset of her panties. Her pretty face glazed, and small sounds burst through her twitching lips.

Her unobserved lover stroked the length of one fat tendril fluidly through the valley of Macy's vulva. Covered with fresh desire the irresistible mist pulsed into her open vagina, filling her to the brink; pushing incessantly against her cervix. Macy howled her crisis into the gray metal of the filing cabinet, she came, and came, and changed. Exhausted, but gratified she slumped to the floor.

The laboratory door burst open, as a fearful technician rushed to investigate the scream.

"Macy, Macy, are you alright? What happened?"

Macy opened her eyes and stared hungrily up at Alison.

"I'm fine, just fine" answered a breathless Macy.

"Your eyes, did you get something in your eyes?" Alison enquired "They are so bloodshot - was it acid?"

Macy just grinned, as she covertly watched the red mist re-emit itself from the bubbling surface of the monitor.

"Come closer, I need to whisper - too exhausted to speak"

Alison bent forward bringing her as face close to Macy's as she politely could. This gave Macy a grandstand view of Alison's facial expression as the sinful vapor enslaved her. Alison's face first registered concern, then surprise - followed closely by uncontrolled desire. Macy's tongue mashed against Alison's as her hands sought the slimmer girls breasts under the white lab coat. Together they designed a new, exciting experiment shedding their clothes just as rapidly as their unneeded morals.

Chapter Thirty-Two:... On The Floor...

"And so onto the main part of the presentation" Dr Braggart's voice boomed across the lecture theaters P.A. system.

"This video details the work of my laboratory, and our hope for the eradication of genetic disorders - within the next 10 years," Eloise Braggart paused for effect, then continued "No more Mongolism, no more Cystic Fibrosis, an end to unnecessary suffering..."

"Many more abortions! Selective culling of the unborn! - Isn't that suffering enough?" A lone strident voice bust out from a flame haired young woman.

"Ahem, colleagues - you may not have had the pleasure of meeting Pamela Morris. Now Pam I think you would be so much more at home with the protestors, OUTSIDE!" Eloise spoke sternly, motioning to the closest security guard.

"Murderer, defiler of nature!" Pam screamed as she was dragged backwards towards the illuminated exit sign.

"To continue, an end to unnecessary suffering - and expenditure" Dr Braggart smiled widely at the assembled politicians; they sure heard that last word.

Eloise stepped back to let the video underline the savings, it would run into billions; and the research grant would ensure the expansion of her personal empire and reputation. 'It's just a well us scientists are only interested in the well being of mankind, or this sort of thing could be misused' the ironic thought cracked her smile into a full face grin.

Eloise edged her rear onto a convenient stool, her hand slipped down surreptitiously to scratch an annoying itch that had flared up. Her fingers caught at the seam of her tailored suit, the friction was quite delicious. She stopped the scratching immediately shocked at her sudden arousal. The thoughts wouldn't be stopped as easily 'I could orgasm in front of these pompous fools and they would be none the wiser' a strong exhibitionist fantasy played across her mind.

She could see them all - Princes, Kings, Presidents and Premier's obediently sitting, watching; while she performed - it was intoxicating. Her finger pressed a little harder and the gentle, sly scratch started again. If she wiggled slightly the seam flicked across the bud of her hard clitoris - she was so close, so close. The video ended and Eloise reluctantly stopped mid-masterbation to walk back to the podium.

At her return the audience rippled into spontaneous applause, adn her unruly clitoris pulsed against her damp gusset.